Page 72 of Kingmakers, Graduation

Sabrina frowns, thinking hard.

Her eyes flick around the room, table to table, understanding that each group represents a center of power with which we will have to contend.

At last she says, “What we need is a resource. They’re fighting over what already exists—we could make something new.”

“Make what?”

“The thing everyone wants …” Sabrina smiles. “A good time.”

“The Slavs already make their own molly. They can buy in higher volume than us and undercut our price.”

“If we can’t compete on price then we have to compete on quality. You said the stuff coming in from Amsterdam is shit?”

“Only one in three shipments tests pure.”

“But you can get the raw materials?”

“I can get anything once I know where to look.”

Sabrina bites the edge of her thumbnail. I see the wheels turning in her head as she sits across from me, scowling in concentration.

“We need something no one else can sell …” she says softly. “Something unique … that we cook ourselves …”

“You want to be in charge of it?” I ask her.

She looks up, eyes large and luminous in her tanned face. I see her excitement, but she plays it cool as always. “Could be fun.”

“You should bring Hakim on board. He took two years of biochemistry.”

“Oh yeah?”

“His parents wanted him to be a pharmacist like his sisters.”

Sabrina grins. “Then I guess it’s time to make his parents proud.”

21

SABRINA

After another hour or two of discussion of raw materials and the best place to set up a lab, Adrik leans back in his seat, arm slung around my shoulders.

“How about another drink? So much work … must be time to play.”

His large hand massages my shoulder, warm and heavy and pleasant.

Even in this room of strangers and criminals—the kind of people who would slip a knife between your ribs for an insultingly low sum of money—I feel comfortable, even safe.

Anything seems possible with Adrik. I’m full of wild energy and outrageous plans. I wish we could start this minute.

His hand dips lower, his fingers grazing the top of my breast. His arm is heavy around my shoulders, possessive. If I didn’t like it, I’d shake it off. But it never feels wrong for Adrik to put a claim on me. Actually, it’s flattering. With all the expensive escorts in the room, he’donly be human if his eyes wandered. Adrik only has eyes for me. His attention is addictive—the more I get, the more I want.

I lean against him, letting my own hand slide up his thigh over his jeans. Feeling the thickness and firmness of his thigh, how it radiates heat through the denim.

I look into his face. He’s outrageously handsome—the kind of good looks that are even better up close. His skin is smooth and clear and brown, stretched tight over the sharp edge of his jaw. The shape of his lips makes me weak and melting.

“Two hours is a lot of work?” I tease.

“It’s work keeping my hands off you long enough to have a conversation.” He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my head back, kissing me so deeply that I taste the vodka still burning in his throat.

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