Tell Them This When I Die

Blood, Sweat and Thai Food

Eris walks to her car, annoyed. Caledon insisted on having his delivery made at nine in the morning, which was risky considering the fact that the media has been following Eris for a whole three days. She shook them off by driving like a maniac, but as she walks outside the party store, they're back. They've swarmed around her car with their snappy little cameras and their loud questions.

"Eris? Ms. Diakos! Tell us what you know about the fake drug delivery made from Nyx! Did you plan it out? Sources say you often like to play pranks on cops—"

Eris has her hand over her face. She doesn't want any more pictures. She doesn't need the media following her around. She can't get anything done if they're taking pictures of her in every situation. She had her nails done this morning, and the violent little creatures had their noses pressed to the window the entire appointment.

Eris pushes through the crowd of them, reaching for the door of the Maserati. Their bodies are touching her, the sweat of their skin brushing each other. It's an awful, disgusting situation.

She closes and locks the door to the Maserati. She could put out a formal statement—say she had no intention of selling anything to the cops, and they must've mistaken one of Nyx's dessert deliveries for something suspicious. No one would believe it, but then at least the pictures and the questions would slow down. But Eris couldn't quite justify stopping a city-wide promotion of Nyx. Nyx isn't just the glittering Greek nightclub in the east end anymore—it's the glittering Greek nightclub owned by that sly woman that made a fool of the cops.

Eris pulls out of the lot, not caring if she runs over someone's foot. She could call it luck, but that wasn't exactly it. Brit had been entirely clean, but there was that feeling in her gut, telling her something was wrong. So Eris had given him the fake shipment. Her gut had never been wrong before.

She'd cut out that picture of Adam in the newspaper and taped it to her fridge, but only because he had on this faint sort of smile—like he just couldn't believe she'd caught him before he could catch her. Like he'd developed a little more respect for her after getting upset over the aphrodisiac. Which was maybe a little reasonable.

Eris pulls into Nyx at noon, after a meeting with another dealer, only to find Leonardo leaning against the glass door to the penthouse floor. They shouldn't have let him in.

"You're fogging up my glass," Eris says.

"Cute little game you played with the cops, Eris," Leonardo grinds out.

Eris unlocks the door, heading down the hallway to the penthouse. "I just had that cleaned," she replies.

"Don't you think it's baiting trouble? Don't you think you've gone too far?"

"They just paid me ten thousand dollars for candy hearts, Leo. They're going to cut all funding to me as a suspect."

"And where do you think that funding will go?"

Eris unlocks the door but doesn't step inside. "Not sure. Maybe they'll finally fix the potholes on Century."

"Me, Eris. The other dealers. You've successfully got the cops away from you for a long time, but now they're going to be poking at me."

Eris glances at him. "Sell them some gummy worms."

Leonardo takes a step forward, his breath on Eris' face. He smells of liquor and cigarettes and cheap cologne. "You've fucked us all over."

"Is that so, Leo?" Eris asks, still in the doorway. "Are you realizing how incapable of handling the heat you are? Are you realizing how much you absolutely and utterly need me in this business?"