"Okay, so the Genie's Wish has worn off," Keir said as he stood. "That's good. That means you two will be able to concentrate."
"That was a test?" Taz asked, setting his beer down on the island with a hard clank.
Unfazed, his brother shrugged. "And since you didn't tear my head off my shoulders and she didn't turn all hot and bothered, I'm happy to report you both passed with flying colors."
"You're a dick," Bianca muttered.
"Abso-fucking-lutely I am." Keir picked up his stool and sat back down. "But I'm just the dick you both need." His face twisted with horror as what he'd said registered. "That came out wrong. Let's move along."
More than willing to move past that distasteful mental image, Taz asked, "What is Genie's Wish?"
"Up until tonight I thought it was just a problem in Eastern Europe, but it looks like it's crossed the Atlantic." His brother secured the two vials of blood into the black pouch and zipped it up. "It's usually inhaled, although there've been rumors of injections, but those experiments turned gnarly fast, from what I understand. The drug elevates whatever central emotion the user is feeling at the time and grants you that wish. Take lust, greed, and fury as examples. If you're at an orgy, you're going to fuck your brains out. If you're at the casino, you're going to gamble until you can't anymore. If you're on the battlefield, you're going to kill until you're the only one left standing. This gets into the wrong hands and we've got a country where everyone's a porn star, gambling addict, killing machine. It'll get ugly quick, which is why the DEA has a bounty out on any information about it."
The longer Keir talked, the paler Bianca got. By the time he finally shut up, the pallor was tinged with green. Reaching across the island, Taz covered her chilled hands with his. She glanced up at him and the world shifted on its axis. In the next breath he knew he wouldn't ever let anything happen to her. Period. The Davies-Smythes were about to have their asses handed to them, Roma style.
Her fingers curled around his. "Shit," she said, her voice barely audible.
"That's about the sum of it and you two are right in the heart of it," Keir said. "They've yet to get anyone to come forward who survived their dance with the Genie. Don't worry. All of the bodies have track marks and you two weren't injected."
For a silver lining, that was a might fucking thin one.
"I need to get in touch with your DEA contact," Taz said.
"Who do you think I'm taking these samples to? Their lab is the only one that knows the chemical markers to look for to confirm it was Genie's Wish." He pulled out his phone and started typing. "Texting her now to arrange a drop."
"Can you trust her?" Taz wasn't about to put Bianca's life in just anyone's hands, which should have him worried that the drugs hadn't totally worn off. A little—okay, a lot of—lust didn't usually translate to caring about someone's safety...not with anyone else but her.
"She spent the past three years in deep cover before being forced onto desk duty, and she is mean enough to make me reflexively guard my nads whenever we meet up, but the woman is solid."
"How did you meet her?" Bianca asked Keir.
"Everybody has problems that need to be fixed and that is why my business is always booming." His phone vibrated. "Ask and you shall..." He started reading. "Shit, she's on her way over." He slammed his cell down on the island. "Damn it, she promised she'd taken the tracker off my phone."
The last thing they needed was trouble caused by Keir's dick and the groupies it ensnared—law enforcement or not.
"Is there something going on between you two that we need to know about?" Taz asked his brother.
Keir glared at him. "Just a whole lotta hollering when she walks her tight little ass through the door."
CHAPTER FIVE
The next sixteen and a half minutes passed by in excruciating slowness that had Taz contemplating murder more than a man should. Keir and Bianca had gone from sarcastically sparing with each other to snarky jabs at him. The comments he could give a shit about, but the obvious instant camaraderie between them landed about as comfortably as a bare-knuckle punch to the kidneys followed by a swift, steel-toed boot kick to the nuts. Add to that seeing her dressed in his workout gear, knowing the soft cotton T-shirt was up against her bare tits, had him frustrated and hard to the point of being a Viagra commercial warning.
Unable to stand Keir and Bianca's little buddy-buddy, kissy-kissy bullshit anymore, he shoved away from the island where they were all gathered finishing their beers. "You know, he's even more of a dick than I am."
That shut them up. Both turned in slow motion to stare at him, Keir with an all-knowing, pot-stirring grin under his never-been-broken nose. The fucker wasn't flirting so much as he was busting Taz's chops...and he'd fallen for it, let it twist him up. What an asshole.
"Must be something in the gene pool," Bianca said, obviously unimpressed with his snarly attitude.
Taz slammed back the rest of his beer. "We're not related." Thank God.
"Wait." She shook her head, sending her brown waves tumbling around her shoulders. "But you call each other brothers?"
"We are," he and Keir said at the same time.
She looked from him to Keir and back again, curiosity wrinkling
her forehead. Sure, the Roma blood was strong in both of them, so four of the five of them had the stereotypical dark hair and they each had sepia-colored skin. In addition, they shared the what-the-fuck-are-you-looking-at charm of boys who'd grown up on the street and had turned into men who knew how to fight like they still lived on them. With the exception of Duke's red hair, all five of them fit the Romani stereotype of dark with an olive complexion, along with the Roma first names common in their families. They could easily pass for cousins, if not brothers, even if they didn't have any family tree branches in common.