Joints? Harpoc wants a hit, or whatever drug dealers call the stuff? He said he rarely used.
Zeki has the good sense to tremble as he rises and scurries toward me, then past.
“And be sure they’re only the highest quality,” Harpoc calls after him. Harpoc winks at me, and I know he’s messing with the guy.
I hear the squeak of hinges in need of oil.
Harpoc nods at the squirmy dude I hit where it counts, and the goon goes still. I give Harpoc a long look, but he doesn’t comment.
Not more than a minute later, those hinges protest again and Zeki soon reappears with a plastic sandwich-size Ziploc bag stuffed full of rolled joints.
I furrow my brow. That’s got to be enough to be high for days, like I’d know.
Harpoc takes the bag, then nods, and Zeki collapses, sinking to his knees, then toppling to his side, on the ground, his red turban falling free to reveal a balding head in the process.
My mouth drops open. “What…?”
Harpoc exhales heavily, and it’s only then that I realize he’s barely been breathing the whole time. Five strides and he’s pulling me against his chest and wrapping his arms around me still holding that bag of joints. One of his duster’s buckles digs into my cheek, but I don’t complain.
“Well done, Rose,” he says, into my hair as he nuzzles the top of my head. I swear I hear him inhale, there’s no possible imagining this time.
It’s a minute or two, longer than a casual hug for sure, before Harpoc’s arms slacken.
That guy called me Harpoc’s greatest weakness. The thought’s crazy; there’s no way, he didn’t look at me the entire time, yet he’s still holding me.
I’d never have dared to ask such an intimate question before, but I want adventure and my heart speeds.
Surprisingly, my inner voice doesn’t caution me with the disappointment I’ll feel if Harpoc says, no. Maybe she’s getting on board.
I swallow and ask, “Am I your greatest weakness?” I hold my breath.
Chapter Thirty-One
Harpoc stiffens. Only in his arms would I notice it, he’s that subtle, but I do.
Harpoc forces a laugh, then asks, “With all that just happened, that’s what you want to know?”
“Well, that and why you didn’t just knock them all out when they put a machete to my throat.”
He steps back, and I love the smile that’s spread across his face. “Don’t hate me, but I was curious.”
“Curious?”
“I wanted to see what you’d do, after I promised I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.”
“It was a test?” My voice rises and my temper flares to life.
He raises his hands in surrender. “After your complete disbelief in anything I said when we first met”—My temper fades in an instant because he’s right—“I wondered how much trust I’ve managed to earn. There’s nothing like a serious situation to understand.”
“You’re right that I doubted everything you said at first, but come on, Harpoc—” I inhale quickly then glance around after I slip, not calling him His Kinglyness Rose. I’m relieved to find all the goons still sleeping. “—it was a sphinx you were trying to get me to believe in… a sphinx.” I wave my hands.
He shrugs. “I wanted to know.”
“Why’s it so important?”
He drops his gaze to the ground.
“Oh come on, give me a freaking break. Tell me.”
He doesn’t elaborate, and I step back, my temper igniting.
“I’ll tell you what I saw.” He meets my eyes again.
I throw up my hands. “Fine, what’s that?”
“You trust me with your life.” He draws a hand to his chest. “And I am honored.” There’s no humor on his face, he’s not joking.
I wanted to start probing him about politics and double standards, but how can I when he goes and says that? I open and close my mouth. Harpoc is frustrating as all get out, but the sincerity I see in his gorgeous eyes disarms me. He’s honored by my trust?
When’s the last time someone cared if I trust them or not? Like never. Yet it’s a theme with him, and I’ve no idea why. There’s more to it, I can sense it. I just don’t know what. It’s yet another layer of this onion I need to peel, and I will.
Yeah, this and so many questions about his involvement in stuff I care about.
“Now that that’s behind us”—he’s still gazing into my eyes—“while we’re here in Turkey, I thought I’d take you to see a few ruins today, unless you prefer not to.”
“Is that where we are?”
He hasn’t answered my question about whether or not I’m his greatest weakness. He thinks I don’t notice, sneaky bastard, but I do. What’s more he’s using ancient history, my greatest weakness, to distract me, but that’s okay, there’ll be time to probe Harpoc’s mysteries tonight. He can run, but he can’t hide.
“What about King Midas?”
Harpoc tosses the baggie of joints up and catches it. “Not yet.”
“Did you get those for yourself or me?” I nod at the bag as he tosses it again.
“Neither.”
“Then who?”
A corner of his mouth rises, and I know he’s not going to say.
“But I trust you with my life”—I draw a hand to my chest in dramatic fashion, making him laugh—“so you can trust me.”
He tucks the baggie of weed inside his duster, then his magic does up all the fasteners, and he extends his arm, which I step into after zipping up.
“Where are you taking me?”
Of course he doesn’t answer before darkness and disorientation swallow me.
A large body of blue water appears as Harpoc steadies me not long after. I swallow down my stomach’s protest to the rough treatment, then take a deep breath and let it
