Page 3 of The Shadows Beyond
Seeing the jet, and screaming at the woman that there was no way he was going anywhere with her, no way he wasflyingin anaeroplane.
The woman offering him a bottle of pills from her pocket.
Screaming at her some more, saying that there was no way in hell he was taking anything.
And then… darkness.
The bitch must have drugged him, after all.
His anger brought him back to full alertness, and Cinn’s eyes darted around the jet, taking stock of his options while trying not to think about the fact he was flying thousands of feet above the Earth in a metal bird that could explode or crash at any moment.
Cinn glared at the sleeping woman. Light wrinkles made her certainly past fifty, yet her dark, glossy grey hair was cut into the box-fringe style often seen on women thirty years her junior, hovering abovethick-rimmed black glasses. An unfinished glass of champagne sat on the table between them. Cinn leaned forward and flicked the glass over, spilling the liquid all over her lap.
Oops. Turbulence.
Her eyes snapped open as she muttered various curse words while wiping her white linen trousers with her sleeves.
“Morning,” Cinn said with a perfectly straight face.
The woman glared, lips pursed, blue eyes icy.
Cinn countered with a foul look of his own. “I told you not to drug me.”
A razor-sharp smile. “I didn’t.”
Their staring contest continued until Cinn grew bored. He didn’t need games. He needed answers.
“I need to go back to London,” he snapped. “As soon as we land. My friend is in danger.”
“The same ‘friend’ who forced you to allow Heino Richter access to burgle your restaurant, destroying your career prospects and your life?”
Her words stunned Cinn into silence.
“He didn’t force me,” he eventually got out. “I offered.” It was true. When Tyler had appeared at his doorstep, black and blue, eyes so swollen he could barely recognise him, Cinn promised him he’d sort it out.
Because that was what he did.
Tyler fucked up. Cinn sorted it.
Just this time. One last time.How many times had he promised himself that?
“What I don’t understand,” said the woman, genuine curiosity peppering her voice. “Is how Richter thought there would be enough in your little restaurant’s safe to cover Tyler’s debt.”
Cinn flinched backwards, his head colliding with the seat. “How… How do you know all of this?”
The woman smiled again, adding more fuel to the inferno of anger quickly building within Cinn.
“It was just meant to be a start,” he said. “The first of a few jobs I’d help Richter with. And then Tyler would be free of him for good. He agreed not to let Tyler deal for him again if I got him the money. Fuck knows what’s going to happen to Tyler now, if Ricther hasn’t got the cash. That’s why I need to go back. Even if I’m in a cell, I can call people—”
“You’ll be able to call people when we land. We’re not going to the middle of the jungle.”
Cinn turned to look out of the window, which he’d avoided so far, needing to break eye contact with the infuriating woman. The dizzying expanse of clouds and sky sent an immediate wave of nausea through him.
Rage boiled up, pulsating through every vein. He’d been taken from London, drugged, and then forced into enduring one of his worst nightmares—flying.
Cinn jumped to his feet, snarling, “You still haven’t told me where we’re going or why you’ve kidnapped me!”
The woman tucked a long grey strand of hair behind her ear. “Sit down.”
