Page 13 of Consume Me

“Are we interrupting?” Smith asked.

“No.” The older man brushed off his concern as they both stood. “Mr. Ford and I are finished with our business.”

The two shook hands, exchanging farewells with such ease, I might have thought they’d simply had afternoon tea.

“Your Majesty.” The younger man, Ford, nodded as he passed but didn’t seem ruffled to discover that the King of England was meeting with a mob boss. He also didn’t display a hint of humility. Instead, he prowled past us, exiting the room and returning to whatever dark world he inhabited.

“Smith Price. I didn’t expect to see you walk through my doors.” Marcus DeAngelo’s eyes skimmed over me, tightening at the edges before they skipped to my companion. It was the only sign of surprise at my presence. “I’d hoped you came to accept my job offer, but it looks as if you’ve found another organisation in which to invest your talents.”

“I’m retired,” Smith said.

“So I’ve heard.” DeAngelo paused to pour himself a drink. Each moment of delay irked me. We were wasting time while playing at niceties with a known criminal. “But here you are—and with such auspicious company. It seems you’ve found a new family.”

“I suppose I went legit.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” DeAngelo said. He lifted the crystal decanter in offering.

I wanted a drink, which was why I shouldn’t have one. I needed to keep my mind sharp, especially in the presence of a wolf.

“No, thank you.” I shifted on my heels. It was difficult to be polite to a man who actively worked against my country, who ran weapons and controlled drug trafficking. It was hard to ignore that those were the least of his sins.

DeAngelo waved to a set of leather cigar chairs. “Sit, gentleman.”

He wasn’t the type to use my title. I wasn’t the type to take an order.

“He asked nicely,” Smith said under his breath, sensing my dilemma.

And I was the one who’d agreed to come.

“What trouble brings you to my door?” DeAngelo swished his bourbon thoughtfully while he waited for us to respond.

“Why do you assume there’s trouble?” Smith asked nonchalantly. He might not practice anymore, but he was still a lawyer.

“If you came to me for help, I assume there must be trouble. Particularly, given…” DeAngelo leveled a long look at me.

It was an odd game we were playing, skirting around the fact that he and I were connected by more than this spontaneous meeting. DeAngelo didn’t seem interested in keeping that information close to the vest.

Smith had obviously been expecting a different reaction. He looked between us, his eyebrows drawing together. “What?”

“He must be new to your circle,” DeAngelo drawled, “if he doesn’t know.”

“It’s not common knowledge that you provided the gun that killed my father,” I said coolly. If he was going to show his hand, I might as well. The king beat most cards, after all.

“That complicates things,” Smith said, shooting me a look.

It wasn’t my fault that I hadn’t told him. I didn’t know where we were going. But I was lying to myself if I pretended that I hadn’t suspected where he was bringing us.

Smith had been part of the investigation that had led from Jack Hammond to Oliver Jacobson. He knew more than most about my father’s assassination, but I’d never shared the information about the gun. It hadn’t seemed important. Then again, I didn’t know he associated with the DeAngelo family.

“Does it?” DeAngelo said, his lips twitching. “It was a business transaction. Much like the one I expect we’ll conduct this afternoon.”

“MI-5 would rather nail him for something larger,” I explained to Smith, my eyes remaining on DeAngelo. Smith was wrong. This man wasn’t the devil, but he’d sold his soul to him—and hell would come to collect eventually. No man could play with fire forever without getting burned.

“Yes, they would.” He didn’t seem the least bit ruffled by this fact. Maybe he always knew he was on borrowed time. Maybe that’s why he did it.

“There’s been a security breach,” Smith said, “and we’re wondering what you know about some recent events.”

“The bombing of that symposium, I assume?”