“Ah.” Lazlo smiles, flashing a couple of gold teeth. “I also have a piece of information that I think you’ll like.”
“Not interested. We have enough sources feeding us information.” I shoot an annoyed look at Eros and lumber to my feet. “Why the fuck did you arrange this?”
“You should listen,” Eros says, jerking his head toward Lazlo.
I look at the twitchy separatist, cocking my head. “Do you know where Constantine is?”
A puzzled look crosses his face. “Who?”
“This is a waste of my fucking time.” I turn, pushing my chair out of the way as noisily as possible.
One single word stops me from barreling out of the bar.
“Persephone.”
I hesitate, turning back on Lazlo with a glower. “What did you just say?”
He clears his throat, standing up.
“Word on the street is that you are looking for where someone might be holding a girl named Persephone. And I happen to possess an address that I think will please you.”
It only takes me a moment to lurch over to him, grab him by the shirt, and put my face right in front of his. From this close, I can see Lazlo break out into a sweat.
“Where?” I demand to know.
“Easy,” Lazlo says, prying his shirt from my grip. “We have some details to see to first.”
“Hades don’t believe this guy. He is definitely high as a kite, blowing smoke rings and hoping that you will be a fool enough to fall under his spell.” Ares puts a hand on my shoulder, which I fling off.
“Don’t,” I warn him. I look at Lazlo. “If ye don’t give up the address right now, it’ll be your last decision, because I’ll fucking gut ye.”
I reach for my waistband, a district threat.
Lazlo gulps but doesn’t back down. “Do we have a deal?”
“Hades, I’m telling you?—"
“Fuck off.” I focus all my attention on Lazlo. My heartbeat pounds like a drummer on cocaine. “Aye, ye asshole. We have a deal. Eros, go get the damn papers.”
Ares throws his hands up, storming out of the bar. Eros follows him, leaving me alone with the Hungarian.
He takes a seat, his body language still strung as a notched arrow. He gestures to the seat next to him.
“Sit. Soon we will have signed the papers. You will give me the address of the trucks… and then I will give you the address of the girl. Yes?”
I grab the chair that he indicated, flipping it around. Honestly, I’m having trouble focusing on what he’s saying.
Persephone.
I can get Persephone back.
My heart thuds against my ribs, slamming itself with a kind of reckless abandon.
“Ye give me the address. Then I give ye the address. We sort all the money out after we are both satisfied.”
Lazlo’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Is this Persephone worth so much to you, then?”
I give him a sharklike smile. “Ye already know that I will skin ye and eat yer heart if ye decide to fuck around with my money. So I feel sure that yer little separatist friends will make good on that part. I just hope ye realize that yer information had better be good, because if not…”