Page 70 of Tested
“No.”
“Then why ask the question?”
He lets go of his shoulder, hissing as he moves it up and down. “Because there’s only so long I can be entertained by naked chicks eating each other out. We maybe got off on the wrong foot, but I think you and me can be friends.”
I’m blinking at him like he’s rambling on in a foreign language. Maybe French, since I don’t speak it.Why would he think we could be friends?
“Names Balderdash Dolivo, but you can call me Dash.” He extends his hand like he really thinks I’m going to shake it.
What the hell?I grasp his hand and it immediately turns into a wrestling match. I’m able to extract myself from his grip by the application of the pointy end of my hunting knife to his chin.
“Aw man, we coulda been friends.” He scoots away from me and I stand there stunned, shaking out my hand where he squeezed it.
“I’m guessing that since you didn’t knock, you didn’t come through the front door.”
“Correct,” I say, wondering how the hell I’m going to get out of here before either the women come inside or Betancourt rises. I decide to roll the dice and let him know why I’m really here. “I’m looking for an elvish princess…arealelf, not some overpriced glamour.”
“Ahh…unfortunately, you missed her.”
“She’s dead?”
“No, but she’s gone beyond our everyday existence.”
I parse that, trying to decide if I can trust this guy or not. Just because we look like cousins doesn’t mean he’s not selling me a load of garbage. “How do I get to where she is?”
“You need to be a good boy and say your prayers.”
I spin around, reaching for my pistol. Betancourt is standing between me and the doorway out. His eyes are frosty silver and he’s aiming a classic Colt Python revolver at my head. “You halfbreed piece of shit.” The words are hard and deadly. “What are you doing in my home?”
Since I’m likely to die, I might as well try the truth. “Looking for the Princess Tatiana.”
Apparently, that was the right answer, because instead of shooting, he narrows his gaze. “What makes you think she’s here?” He coughs weakly, wiping away some spit with the back of his hand. He’s not nearly as physically impressive as Trajan. He’s short and wiry, with grey eyes that shine silver when he’s angry.
And right now his eyes shine like chrome.
I ease my pistol from its holster. If I can get a good shot at him, I’ll put an end to more than one problem. Of course, if I miss, I’m a dead man.
My first priority is to keep Trajan and David safe. Then I want to keep Trajan from finding out I’m working with the Elites. Then I want to find the Princess. And then, I want to get out of here alive.
Yeah, I’ve got my priorities in order.
“I don’tthinkshe’s here, I know she’s here,” I lie. “And so, Jacques Betancourt, I’m going to do you a favor.”
“What makes you think I want one from you?”
“Because there’s a price on your head and I figure you might appreciate a warning so you can beat it.”
Not as bold a lie as the first one. More of a useful exaggeration. I force myself to stand calm. Dash, the security guy, has come around next to Betancourt. “I don’t know, Mr. Betancourt. Can you trust a guy who was dumb enough to get busted sneaking into your house?”
Excellent question. I really should have waited for back-up.
“That’s true, Monsieur Balderdash, except that he’s got the kind of connections that make me think he could be telling the truth.” He’s still aiming the pistol at me, but his hand is wavering.
I meet Betancourt’s gaze head on, aware of the tell-tale vibrations in my aura that say he’s trying to manipulate my thinking.
“Won’t work,” I say.
Betancourt shrugs, relaxing his arm so the pistol is aimed at the floor. “So tell me what you think I want to hear.”
