Page 419 of The First Taste

“Stop!” Ares screams. “Stop the car!”

Eros stops moving long enough to aim at the car and shoot out its back tires. The car spins out wildly, spraying gravel everywhere. Eros takes aim a final time and fires again, hitting the front tire closest to us. The person driving slows the car as all of the Lyon men descend on it.

As I reach the driver side door, I can barely make out who is driving because the car’s windows are so grimy and dusty. I see a person raising their skinny arms and determine that Persephone is not in the car. Yanking the door open is difficult. It creaks loudly and I lean down, grabbing at the person blindly.

Something sharp cuts my palm and I startle. I grit my teeth and reach in, grabbing a handful of fabric. It rips but I’m much stronger than our witness. In moments, I pull an angry looking young woman out.

Whip thin and shoulder height, she has warm tawny skin with a mane of obsidian hair that just brushes her shoulders. Perfect dark brows, brown-black eyes rimmed with long lashes, an aquiline nose, and cheekbones as crisp as well-honed blades. Two blotches of red outrage are splashed across her face as she fights me with everything she has. Her nails bite into my neck. I have to grab her hands to keep her from going for my eyes.

“Quit… fighting… me… I just want to know if ye’ve seen someone that is missing!” I tell her, my teeth gritted.

“Never.” Her response is in perfect French, her accent as European as it is Moroccan. That’s unexpected. “I’m not your rat.”

The fact remains that she knows enough English to understand me. She could have easily pretended not to grasp what I’m trying to tell her.

“What’s your name?” I implore her.

She grunts, trying to worm her way out of my grasp.

“Hey!” I give her a sharp shake, causing her head to bounce around on her angular neck. “Tell me your name.”

She looks at me from beneath her long lashes, her black-brown eyes crackling with heat. “Aphrodite.”

I pause, my brow furrowing. Somewhere, in the back of my brain, I feel like I should already know that name.

Is she connected to my world, somehow?

“Aphrodite,” I repeat back to her.

I glance at Ares and Eros, who are both boldly staring at her with what feels like distinct notes of desire. Eros grabs her upper arm, and she grimaces.

“You can’t touch me like this!” she says in French. “You have no idea who you are messing with, do you?”

Aphrodite seems to vibrate with unease. I relax my grip, relying on Eros and Ares to step in, boxing her in on all sides and helping me control her.

I scan her face, reaching out to touch her chin. She hisses like she’s been burned and lifts her hand to block me.

“Please.” I implore her, looking deep into her eyes. “Persephone has been taken. I am trying to save her.”

“Save her!” Aphrodite spits out in English. She switches languages easily and fluently as a snide little laugh follows her words. “If she has been taken, it’s too late now. She’s well on her way to the coast. And then she will meet the man who threatened my life, the life of my family, the life of everyone in this whole damned town. If you were smart you would just forget about her.”

I grip her chin with my thumb and forefinger, looking at her with a ferocity that scares even me.

“What is that man’s name?”

Aphrodite darts her tongue out, wetting her lips. She glances at my brothers for a second as if sizing them up. Then she rolls her shoulder in an elegant shrug.

“You’re digging your own grave.” Her lips curl up in a cruel, tight smile. “His name is Constantine. And you do not want to cross his path.”

Her words put a cold knife in my heart and a sneer on my lips. I lean in, letting her feel the heat and sheer size of my big body.

“Constantine is a dead man. He’s fucked with me for the very last time. Persephone ismine. Nobody touches what’s mine.”

Aphrodite’s brows rise but she shows some sense and doesn’t say another word in response to that.

I shift my gaze to Eros, my sneer curling into a semblance of a smile.

“Let’s go.” My lips twitch. “Bring Aphrodite along for the ride. We might need her again.”