His eyes blinked open. “Wha—” He swallowed thickly.
“One move, one sound, and I take your heart,” I said, applying more pressure to his throat, prepared to slice him all the way down.
“Grégoire,” the blonde whispered in heavily accented French. “Come here,bébé.”
Her eyes blinked open, but before she could scream, Donato held a hand to her mouth, and the gun hand to his. She understood his meaning, but thought we were after something else. She kicked off the covers, exposing her naked body.
“Cover up,” Donato said, nothing friendly about his voice. “Now.”
She did as he ordered, covering up to her neck.
“What is your name?” Grégoire asked.
“Your worst fucking nightmare,” I said, my hand itching to cut him from throat to heart. “Tell me where my wife is. You have seven seconds.”
“I—”
“One—” I applied a little more pressure.
“Who—”
“Two—” A little more.
“But—”
“Three—” This time I drew blood.
“Attendez—”
“Four—” The knife went in a little deeper.
“The Italians have her! Nemours has been going insane. Aurélien was supposed to bring her to me. But the Italians stole her from us!Les traîtres!I should have known they would attempt to steal what belongs tome. She is worth money! Money that is owed!”
The pressure increased on his neck, and droplets of blood bubbled to the surface faster, slipping down and mingling with the water from my hair. “Wrong,” I said. “She’s belongs to me. You have three seconds. My wife.”
The French crossed himself. “The lion does not live, but the Dragon does.”
“Wrong again—”
“Attendez!S'il vous plaît!Aurélien tells me they are holding her around Pietraperzia. He is close to capture. He cannot find the villa, as of yet. It is well hidden. Somewhere in the hills.”
“Call him off,” I said.
“I cannot do this. I do not hear from him each day. I do not always have a grip on Aurélien. He and Nemours—” He lifted one bony shoulder and let it fall. “It is a competition, you see? He does not like your wife because Nemours wants her. I cannot say for certain what he will do. I cannot say for certain he did not do something to cause the Italians to take her and run. He is a wild card in my arsenal.”
That would be onesanguisuga.The otherbloodsuckerhad a bullet lodged in the back of his brain and had been left on the side of the road for the flies and wild animals. If what the family in the villa said was true, it was two Italians and the French—this Aurélien—who took her.
I could feel Donato’s eyes on me, solid and steady. He was ready to call this party done and get on with our travels. He must’ve felt Grégoire was telling us the truth about the most important aspects.
We knew for certain where she was, if this French bastard Aurélien hadn’t charged in and taken her for himself. One thing was for certain, though. Grégoire was lying about not knowing what Aurélien had done to the Italian. Those were his orders. For a man who ran one of the most ruthless French criminal families, he was an easy talker. We expected to have to use more persuasive means. Even if it meant having to take him back with us until he gave up what we wanted.
“Believe me,” Grégoire said, attempting to coax me into believing we were friends. If I’d turn around, the knife under his pillow would be stuck in my back. “I would tell you more, if this were possible.”
“Ah,” I said, sniffing up a droplet of water. “I believe you wouldn’t. Are you on good terms with God, Grégoire?Altrimenti fai pace.”Otherwise, make peace.
His eyes grew wide and his mouth parted. The woman whimpered.
“We have a message for Nemours and Aurélien,” Donato said to the woman. “Be sure to tell them.”
