Demon Marked by Anna J. Evans Page B

needed him, and the good man buried deep inside him couldn’t turn his back on her.
    â€œI don’t have to tell you that this could start a street war between the Contis and the Death Ministry if it isn’t handled properly.” Francis collapsed back into his chair with a sigh. “We need to smooth this over, get the Death Ministry to agree to our terms, and get back to making some serious money. Miss Emma needs to tell us everything she knows or thinks she knows about this Greg guy.”
    â€œI’ll question her myself,” Andre said. “But first I’ll need to get her to a safe house as soon as she’s ready to travel. I want her out of Southie.”
    Francis nodded. “Already got a room reserved at the place near Columbus Circle, right next door to her friend.”
    â€œYou got in touch with Ginger?”
    â€œDouglas, my new assistant, got her on the phone about twenty minutes ago. She’s going to meet Antonia and Kelly at the diner down the street from the safe house. They’ll get her settled in within the hour. Hopefully.”
    â€œWhy hopefully ?”
    Francis downed the last of his drink before answering. “I’m not sure this chick is going to show up. She might end up passed out in the street somewhere before she gets there. Douglas said she sounded wasted. He couldn’t understand half of what she was saying.”
    Andre sighed. “Great.”
    Now he had two messed-up young women on his hands. Not that Ginger was really his responsibility, but she was someone Emma cared about, and so he felt ... obligated. Just like he’d felt obligated to help Katie’s sad-sack group of druggie friends every time they ended up on the wrong side of a bar fight or carted down to the city lockup to sweat out their spark.
    It would be stupid to get sucked into that kind of situation again, no matter what his gut said about Emma being tough enough to kick the Hamma habit. Katie’s death should have taught him that addicts couldn’t be saved. He should turn around, walk out of this office, and keep walking until he was back on the right side of the barricade. Let Little Francis handle Emma.
    But he wasn’t going to do that. There was a part of him that still believed that people like Emma, like himself, could turn their lives around. He had to keep believing that, or all those nights he’d sat through twelve-step meetings and prayed to get his own compulsions under control would be for nothing. He had to have hope. For himself, and now for Emma.
    Besides, he didn’t want Francis anywhere near her. He didn’t want his cousin handling her. He didn’t want anything male “handling” Emma except himself.
    â€œI’m going to check with Dr. Finch and see how much longer he’ll need to monitor Emma’s progress with the antivenom.” Andre ambled toward the door, casually throwing his next words over his shoulder. “You want to catch a ride uptown with me when I’m done?”
    â€œNah, I’m going to stay at my new place.”
    â€œNew place? Where?”
    â€œI got an apartment on the Southie side,” Francis said. “Figured it was time for me to come back where I belong. The head of the family has always lived in Southie. It’s tradition.”
    â€œRight,” Andre said, ignoring the implication in Francis’s words. There would come a day when Andre would have to tell Francis to his face which way he’d be voting, but today wasn’t that day. He had other priorities. “Then I’ll stay here and wait. I’ve already had to cancel my court date, so—”
    â€œI bet she’ll be here another few hours. Dr. Finch doesn’t mess around with his private clients. He likes to make sure they’re good to go before he leaves,” Francis said. “You’ve got time to head uptown and attend to some business. Why don’t you go check and