Verifiable Intelligence

by Kaitlin Maitland

  “How do you figure that? Neither of you are dead.”

  “I don’t think we were meant to be killed, Antonio.”

  “Then why shoot at you?”

  Jace paused, wondering if he should really be confiding in this man. Something in his gut still told him that Herrera shouldn’t be trusted. But Dayne trusted him, for whatever reason. “I think it was to keep us busy.”

  “You think somebody shot at you just to keep you guys busy?”

  “Maybe.”

  He glanced down his chest to where Dayne still rested against him. She was warm and soft. Lifting his hand, he gently threaded his fingers through her burnished brown hair, twirling a strand around his index finger and feeling its silkiness.

  Antonio made a frustrated sound. “Why bother? What good did it do?”

  Jace considered Antonio’s argument. The guy had a point. What was the purpose of chasing them around in a public place? What was the angle he was missing?

  Dayne stirred, drawing his attention. Her long eyelashes fluttered before opening, revealing gray eyes still clouded by fatigue. Resting a hand lightly on her cheek, Jace ran his calloused thumb along her jaw line. When she responded with a delicate shiver, he felt a corresponding stir in his belly.

  Waking up was like slogging through glue. Dayne wanted nothing more than a chance to sleep for two days straight. Every muscle in her body screamed a rebuke for the way she’d been pushing herself, but stopping would’ve been impossible.

  It took awhile for her to register the rippling set of abs beneath her cheek. The even heartbeat thrumming through Jace’s body was soothing background noise. He was warm and comforting. It took even longer for her to register the large hand cupping the side of her face. So gentle, had she known he could be that gentle? Her fuzzy brain flipped through several half forgotten moments on a sandy beach in South Texas.

  The inclination lingering in the back of her mind was laughable. She and Jace were oil and water. She just needed to keep remembering that so she didn’t do anything stupid.

  “You awake?”

  His words were felt rather than heard, as if his entire body resonated with each syllable. Though it was hard to admit, she loved to listen to his voice. His tone reflected every nuance of the thoughts he was trying to express.

  “Hey, I can see you blinking down there.”

  “Five more minutes.”

  “Fine by me.”

  His response woke her more thoroughly than a fire alarm. A blush began creeping up her neck, settling in her cheeks. It was hard for her to reconcile the idea of Jace enjoying her nearness.

  Jace gently untangled a stray strand of her long hair and smoothed it into place. He knew he should be trying to get up. Everything was going to depend on whether or not he could move around properly, but he couldn’t seem to make himself care. He wanted to stay on the couch with Dayne draped over his body. He wanted to keep touching her, to try and hang onto this relaxed side of her prickly nature.

  The light feminine scent of her was driving him to distraction. It was exactly as he remembered. Coconut, lime and some kind of exotic flower. He’d once thought it was her sunscreen. But the moment he’d gotten downwind of her at the amusement park it had assailed him. Now that he was so close to her, he was wrapped in her personal perfume. He couldn’t think of a more satisfying place to be. At least, until the other part of him that was enjoying her nearness became too obvious to hide.

  “What happened on the Dolohov hit, Jace?”

  Her soft voice tugged him back to the present. He wondered how much she already knew. Whatever it was, it would’ve come from Herrera. He was glad Antonio had found something that needed his attention. It was high time he and Dayne had a talk.

  “Jace?”

  “There’s no such thing as random, Dayne.”

  She wondered what he was getting at. The existence of random events and coincidence was not part of an assassin’s creed. Assassination required the ability to shape events in a way that seemed almost divine.

  “Synchronicity,” she whispered.

  She lifted her gaze to his face and found him staring right back. Their eyes locked. One side of his sensual mouth curved upward before he spoke.

  “It’s what we do, isn’t it? We manipulate events to suit our purposes.”

  “So what are the events?”

  Two telltale lines appeared on the bridge of his nose. “I was never told who wanted Kiryll Dolohov dead. I still don’t know.”

  “What was the motive?”

  “I thought he was killed as a warning to his brother, Yuri. But I still have no idea who wanted it done.”

  “Who has motive?”

  He shrugged his good shoulder. “You know Yuri. He’s up to his eyeballs in the Russian mob. Kyrill was a just a playboy. All he did was spend Yuri’s money. I half wondered in the beginning if Yuri wasn’t the one who wanted him dead.”

  “I think we can safely rule that out.”

  “What about you, Dayne? Ramsey and Yuri are thick. Has Ramsey said anything that could shed some light on this?”

  Coming from any other person it might’ve been an innocuous question. Given their history, it was a lot more. She resisted the urge to get defensive.

  “It’s been awhile since I’ve talked to Ramsey.”

  “How long?”

  “Long enough that I don’t have anything to add.”

  Dayne squirmed a little, jockeying for a better position. She wanted to see Jace’s expression. When his eyes suddenly opened wide and his breath exhaled in a hiss, she became aware of a persistent…lump, just to one side of her comfortable resting spot.

  He grabbed her arms as she bolted upright. They were locked there, frozen, for the space of two breaths. She could see each grainy detail of the stubble on his chin and cheeks. The fullness of his lips was a powerful draw.

  As if reading her thoughts, Jace leaned closer. His mouth was only inches away from hers. His hazel eyes slid down, as if deciding whether or not he could get away with kissing her. Dayne softened against him, willing him to get the message.

  Her breath caught and her eyes slid shut as his intent became more focused. She wanted to feel his lips against hers. To remember again what he tasted like.

  “Jace!”

  Ryan’s voice split the moment in two like a jackhammer. Dayne was hurled off Jace’s body so forcefully that her backside landed on the floor.

  “You’re not dead!” Ryan said excitedly as he bounced up and down beside the makeshift bed.

  “I promised I wouldn’t leave you, little brother.”

  Dayne couldn’t decide if she was glad to see their happy reunion or not. The cozy moment was punctuated by a lurch of some foreign emotion originating somewhere below her stomach. She didn’t know what to make of any of it. Why could things never stay simple?

  Chapter Twelve

  “Why are we at the airport, Jace?”

  Dayne gave in and rolled her eyes, deciding that it was more important to resist the urge to hit Ryan than to hide how thoroughly his questions irritated her.

  “To catch a plane.” The paper rustled as Jace turned to the business section.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Boston,” he replied without looking up.

  “Why?”

  “We have a meeting there.”

  How he could read a newspaper while Ryan played twenty questions was beyond her. She was barely coping. The security checkpoint line was ten miles long. They were surrounded by throngs of travelers and their belongings. It was hot. It was stuffy. Her feet hurt. And Ryan couldn’t seem to shut up.

  Dayne could vaguely recall what it was like to be a kid, a kid who asked a lot of questions. She remembered getting the taste smacked out of her mouth before she got many answers, so she kept waiting for Jace to dish out a similar treatment to Ryan. Nothing happened.

  “Dayne, when did you and Jace meet?”

  “A long time ago.”

  “Where
did you meet him?”

  Counting backwards from twenty very slowly, she exhaled. It was obvious Jace wasn’t going to do a damn thing about Ryan’s questions and equally obvious that Ryan wasn’t going to stop asking them. So because the security line wasn’t moving much either, she wondered how she should answer such a question.

  “I met him in a bar.”

  Jace’s eyes finally left the newspaper. “You shouldn’t tell him that.”

  “Why not? It’s true enough.”

  Ryan wrinkled his nose. “What kind of bar?”

  “Not a nice one,” Jace remarked dryly.

  “I was trying to hire a pilot,” she remembered. “A bartender in Juarez told me to talk to this big Gringo sitting in a corner all by himself.”

  “Jace, don’t they sell beer in bars?”

  “Yes, Ryan.”

  Deep lines creased the ten-year-old’s forehead. “I thought you told me drinking beer is really bad for you.”

  “It is.”

  It was Dayne’s turn to frown. “Drinking too much beer is bad for you, Ryan. It isn’t going to kill you to drink a little now and again.”

  He looked suspiciously from Dayne to Jace. “I thought beer turned normal people into monsters.”

  “It can, Ryan, but only if you drink a lot of it,” she explained.

  Jace passed Dayne a look of disgust. “Forget the beer, Ryan. I’ll explain more when you’re older. For now, you still have no business drinking beer.”

  “I don’t know, it might make him sleepy,” Dayne mused.

  Jace grunted; a rude noise she took to mean he wasn’t going to dignify her idea with any comments of his own, but Ryan’s curiosity was caught.

  “Why do you want me to be sleepy, Dayne?”

  “So you’ll shut up.”

  “I don’t want to shut up.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that.”

  “I’m bored.”

  “That’s why you’re talking?”

  “There’s nothing else to do.”

  She heaved a gigantic sigh and stood on her tiptoes, looking around. Finding exactly what she needed, she shoved the handle of her carryon at Ryan and walked off.

  “She’s leaving us!”

  Jace chuckled. “She’s not leaving.”

  “Where’s she going?”

  “Away from you.”

  “I just wanted to know how you guys met.” Ryan was on the verge of a whine.

  Jace reminded himself that the kid was only ten and couldn’t possibly understand how annoying his behavior was. “You still shouldn’t pester her with questions just because you’re bored.”

  “But you ignore me when I ask you stuff, Jace.”

  “I know you better.”

  Ryan crossed his arms and glared at the ground. “My teacher says there are no dumb questions when you want to know the answers to things.”

  “The woman obviously doesn’t have kids of her own.” Jace thumbed through another page of the newspaper.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Jace grunted, not wanting to malign the kid’s teacher in front of him. This parenting stuff was hard! You had to watch every word that left your mouth. And it seemed like the only one to consistently catch his mistakes was Ryan. The kid picked up on anything he could use to argue and wheedle his way through Jace’s disciplinary ideals. It was damn exhausting.

  “We’re moving, Jace.”

  “Good, it’s about time.”

  “But Dayne’s not back yet.”

  Jace glanced toward the front of the line. It looked miles away. They were moving at the shuffling pace of a tortoise. “I don’t think that’s going to matter.”

  “But what if…?”

  “It won’t.”

  “You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

  “I didn’t have to.”

  Ryan crossed his arms over his narrow chest and set his face in a pout.

  Dayne appeared from seemingly nowhere. Without explanation she shoved a Sony PSP into Ryan’s hand. “It’s charged. I got seven different movies and five games for you to use. Now will you shut your friggin’ piehole?”

  Jace froze, astonished by the random act of generosity. Ryan suffered from no such problem. Shoving the ear buds into his ears and flipping the switch to on, he nodded to Dayne without another peep.

  Sighing deeply, Dayne's body visibly sagged against her carryon. She rolled her neck from side to side, joints popping. Jace smiled. He’d obviously underestimated her.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Somebody had to.”

  “I don’t believe in spoiling him too much.”

  “Yeah, I get that. But it was more for me than him.”

  Jace chuckled. “Anything to keep you happy.”

  Her face sobered, a flash of emotion touching her eyes. “He shouldn’t have to be doing this with us in the first place.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s not right. What kind of lowlife breaks the rules and tampers with family?”

  He admired the defiant thrust of her chin. Her back was ramrod straight. It was as if she had decided to force a bunch of mercenaries and hit men to follow the same chivalric code she’d once made fun of him for having.

  “I guess nobody gives a shit anymore, huh?” she said, wanting him to confirm her low opinion of humanity.

  He considered her words. “I’m not sure anybody ever gave a shit, Dayne.”

  She sagged again, carefully balancing the weight of her small frame against her airline approved rolling suitcase. It looked uncomfortable.

  Telling himself that he was only being thoughtful to repay her for taking such pains to keep Ryan entertained, he set his paper carefully on top of his own case and reached out for her. Before she could struggle, he’d settled her against his body.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you something a little more substantial to lean against.”

  “I was fine, you know,” she announced, but made no move away from his bulk.

  “I’m sure you were, but I’d hate to see you become the center of attention when you doze off and your suitcase rolls away, leaving you splattered on the floor.”

  “Nice image.”

  “I thought so.”

  “Don’t think this means anything. Because it doesn’t.”

  He smiled, mostly because she couldn’t see him do it. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “I guess it does perpetuate that married with a kid image we were going for, right?”

  He had to suppress the urge to laugh. Her words and body language were at odds. Her tone told him she didn’t want to be anywhere near him, but the way her body was melting against his said otherwise. She was like a cat, molding against him, soaking up his heat. He wondered idly if she’d purr when he petted her.

  She’d be more likely to give him a hiss and a scratch.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Parents had never made much sense to Dayne. For starters, she couldn’t remember having any real ones of her own. There’d been a whole string of foster parents. But getting a new set of foster parents was like playing Russian roulette with a loaded pistol in your mouth. You might get away without being hurt, or life could get real messy, real fast.

  During her military years she had played friend to several different groups of giggling, hormonally imbalanced young women of varying ages. She’d had to. Even then she’d had ambitions about what she wanted to be when she finished her training. Government spy had been at the top of her list before she realized it paid peanuts.

  The art of blending in wasn’t necessarily included in basic training, but army life was a different story. It had given her a chance to see how people worked. Though most of her “friends” had grown up in unique situations completely unlike her own, most of them shared the desire to become successful at something. Pursuing a career made plenty of sense. It was the ones who never seemed to care about job performance that had seemed so confusing.


  Dayne had mistaken it for a lack of ambition in the beginning. Later on she had come to realize they had objectives. They wanted husbands or wives, homes, and families and with true focus, they’d set out to accomplish just that. Of course, it was never something she would ever try to mimic. There was no getting around the fact that Dayne Castille hadn’t a domestic bone in her body.

  Diapers, spit up, runny noses, PTA, Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, soccer practice, flu season and chicken pox were things that she had no interest in. She knew this stuff seemed to fascinate others, but she never got it. And she never understood why people who shared those things in common with each other couldn’t seem to talk, think, or focus on anything else.

  Standing on the curb outside Logan International Airport in Boston, Massachusetts on a chilly autumn afternoon waiting for a rental car shuttle to trundle by and listening to Ryan prattle on and on about whatever it was that caught his incredibly short attention span, Dayne finally started to get it. Not because she suddenly felt mushy and maternal on the inside, but because she suddenly couldn’t remember what it was like to have ears that didn’t ring with idle questions. Or to have the ability to walk from point A to point B without stopping at every bathroom and store on the way. Or how easy it was to travel when all you had to worry about was you and your stuff.

  “I see it!” Ryan shouted, jumping up and down, madly pointing at a green and white shuttle bus. “You said National, right? It’s there, right there!”

  Jace reached out and snagged the back of Ryan’s shirt to keep him from launching directly into traffic. “Calm down before you kill yourself.”

  “You should have pushed him,” Dayne muttered.

  Ryan swung around. “What?”

  She offered a sweet smile. She wasn’t about to repeat what she’d said. It would hurt his feelings, and that’d be worth at least another five hours of whining.