Page 45 of Shai

I forced a laugh of my own. “Probably not. You’d be six feet under, or at the very least missing all your fingers and toes if you’d caught him in a good mood.” I held his gaze. “Got any idea what he looks like?”

Cocky punk considered the question for a moment. “Dark hair. Brown eyes. Tall. Taller than you. From what I’ve heard, the guy is an absolute psychopath. I bet you can see it in his eyes. People like that can’t hide it. You know what I mean?”

“Oh definitely.” I scanned the street, looking left and right before leaning closer to him. “At least that means you can see him coming, right?”

My new friend gave an enthusiastic nod. “Right.” He pulled a packet of cigarettes out of the pocket of his jacket, flipping the lid back and holding the box out. “Want one?”

I accepted one, rolling it between my fingers as he pulled out a battered lighter. It took him a few attempts to get it to light. Once he had, he lit my cigarette first before giving his own the same treatment. He took a long drag on the it and then exhaled a huge cloud of smoke. “What you looking for anyway?”

I placed the cigarette to my lips and took a half-hearted inhale. As a

rule, I didn’t smoke, but it was all part and parcel of the bonding process when it came to this guy. “Got any Void?”

His eyebrows shot up, his gaze raking me over from head to toe. “You

don’t look like a Void junkie.”

“I’m not. It’s for a friend.” My lips quirked at the idea of classing Elijah

as a friend.

Whatever inhibitions he’d had left had been well and truly blitzed under

the influence of Void. He wasn’t happy unless he’d taken a load in every orifice he had, and I was only too happy to provide that as many times a day as he required.

“I see.” My new friend paused to take another drag of his cigarette,

pursing his lips to release a perfect smoke ring into the air. “I don’t have any at the moment. There’s not a lot of call for it anymore, you know, given its high body count. Sorry about your friend. I hope he doesn’t join the long line of people who’ve overdosed on it.”

I gave a shrug. “It’s fine. He’s happy. I regulate his dosage for him.” He gave a crooked smile. “Sounds like you’re a good friend. Speaking

of friends, you never did say who it was that hooked you up with me. If I’m going to be getting hold of some Void for you, I’d rather be sure you’re on the level. You seem like a stand-up sort of guy, but I’ve gotta be careful in this business. You understand, right?”

“Of course.” I was enjoying this game far too much to bring it to an end

quite yet. “Guy’s name was Smith. Don’t know his first name.”

“Smith?” The punk’s brow furrowed as he thought hard. “Don’t

recognize the name.”

“You probably know him by his first name.”

He pulled his phone out, still frowning, as he began to scroll through his

contacts. “I’m always careful. I get both names. And this is my work phone, so all the names are in here.” He shook his head, the frown growing deeper. “No Smith, though.” Before I could interject, the idiot provided his own excuse. “Probably gave me a false name. Some people like to keep their drug habits on the downlow.” He pressed a button on his phone. “You might as well give me your details while I’ve got this in my hand. Name’s Chris. Chris Potter. What’s yours.”

“Shai.” I watched his fingers tighten reflexively around the phone, the cigarette dropping from his lips to the pavement below. “I normally only go by my first name. Hope that doesn’t mess up your system too much.”

Chris’s gaze lifted slowly to my face. His skin had lost all its color, the cocky smile well and truly wiped off his face. I leaned in, bracing my arm against the wall by his head. “Take a good look. What do you think, can you tell I’m a psychopath just from looking at me?”

Chris’s shake of his head was spasmodic and erratic, as if the workings of his body were no longer under his control. “Listen, mate. I—”

“I’m not your mate.” I signaled behind my back, the slam of a car door telling me that my message had been received. Chris’s gaze moved to focus on something over my shoulder, his eyes going wide. Taylor and Wyatt’s progress across the street was much quicker than mine had been, and in less than a minute they were silent shadows at my back.

Chris stuck a trembling hand deep into his pocket, pulling out a wad of notes and thrusting them in my direction. “Take it. It’s all yours.”

I did take them, passing them back to Taylor. “You got that right. Now, the drugs.”