Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
They loaded him into the van.
I turned to Jean-Pierre. “You really think you can try to fix Timur?”
“Not try. We will. Timur must arrive in Italy with a clear mind. That is the only way the Lion will listen to him.”
“A clear mind?” I studied the Butcher, waiting for him to tell me he was joking.
A serious expression covered his face as he stared back. “You have more questions?”
“Hell yes. I have more questions.”
“After our uniting and surviving in the mountains, I am open to your questions.” Jean-Pierre placed his hands on his lap. “Let me hear them.”
“First of all, you can’t take Timur’s crazy ass to Italy. Kazimir will kill him as soon as he starts talking about the Great Eagle.” I pointed at Jean-Pierre. “Next, Kazimir will kill you for wasting his time while he is at war. Then, I’ll have to jump in front of the Lion to block his roar.”
“None of those sound like questions, although I appreciate your confession of now wanting to protect me.” Jean-Pierre quirked his brows. “However, all of your statements are outrageous guesses to the future—”
“Outrageous?” I pointed in the direction of the airport as if that was California. “You don’t remember being stuck in a fucking hole in the rain due to Timur trying to barbecue us?”
“I am still trying to forget.”
“And don’t even get me started on the damn church and blood baptism—”
“I would rather you not.”
“Timur can’t be fixed.”
“Rafael believes he has a woman to clear his min—”
“Man, pussy is magical, but not that much.”
“Not a woman to have sex with Timur, but one who is a practitioner of spiritual magic—”
“Oh, hell no.” I shook my head. “A Voodoo witch?”
“I am not sure if it is Voodoo, but—”
“Man, take me back to the plane.” I waved my hand from side to side. “I’ve already had enough adventures with you, Jean-Pierre. I’m not adding a fucking Voodoo ceremony to it.”
“Unfortunatly, Maxwell, you have no say in the matter.” Jean-Pierre looked forward. “Unfortunately, I like you at my side. So, you are here for the ride.”
“Then, let me just hang out at a nice hotel. I know you’ll set us up in something nice.” I leaned back in the seat. “I’ve always wanted to check out Bourbon Street. People always brag on the food and women. I’m going to try both. Shoot perhaps, the love of my life is here.”
Boris chuckled in the seat in front of us.
I frowned. “What’s so funny?”
Boris cleared his throat.
Jean-Pierre checked his watch. “Maxwell, we do not have time for you to be a tourist. We are heading straight to the place—”
“To the Voodoo chick?” I hit my leg. “Oh hell no! I don’t play with that shit, man.”
Boris chuckled.
“What are you laughing at, Boris?” I leaned forward. “Have you not dealt with enough already?”
Boris glanced over his shoulder. “It will be fine, Maxwell.”
“You think that because there’s no Voodoo in Russia.”
“But, there is Russian witchcraft.” Boris shrugged. “These witches give tarot readings, practice numerology, craft candles, make amulets, create incantations, and offer many helpful folk remedies.”
“What Baba does is nothing like what they do in New Orleans.” I touched my chest. “I haven’t seen any of it first hand, but I’ve seen enough voodoo movies to stay away.”
Jean-Pierre’s phone rang.
He checked the screen and I caught a quick glance. An image of Eden showed, and it was sexy as hell. She sat on a red velvet throne with a diamond crown on her head. White lace hugged her curvy body. She held a violin and looked to be playing it.
Jean-Pierre answered the phone and spoke in French.
I could tell that what he was saying was nasty because his voice started getting low and his breathing went heavy.
Man, he better not be getting hard over there.
I scooted away from him.
He is on the highest level of pussy whipped.
The Butcher carried on his conversation with Eden, ignoring us for the rest of the journey.
The driver took us away from the airport and onto a crowded highway. A sea of vehicles surrounded us, telling me just how busy New Orleans could get.
It must have taken us forty minutes to get to the location. I dozed for most of it, logging in more slumber time.
I guessed that Jean-Pierre dirty-talked to Eden the whole drive due to everyone speaking French in my dream.
In the dream, I sat by a bar, surrounded by naked people. I kept telling them over and over that I only knew English.
Right when a sexy chick walked up to me, Jean-Pierre nudged my side and woke me up.
Yawning, I opened my eyes.
“We are here.” Jean-Pierre took off his seatbelt. “Bring your gun just in case we have a problem.”
“Aren’t your men coming too?” I rubbed my eyes.
“No.” Jean-Pierre sighed. “Unfortunately, Madam Gloria has a three white men policy. No more than that. And we need Rafael to do the introduction and there is also Timur.”