Rules of Revenge

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Rules of Revenge Page 27

by AJ Quinn


  Jessie took it, weaving their fingers together. Felt the warm, solid strength of Darien’s hand and swallowed. “Why don’t we head toward the Cranberry Isles? It won’t be as busy as anywhere around Mount Desert.”

  Darien altered the boat’s course and a moment later had them heading southeast. “Cranberries. Sounds tasty.”

  Jessie shook her head and fought against a smile, then realized something. “You’ve never been here and I swear you didn’t even look at the GPS or the navigation system. How the hell did you know to do that?”

  “I studied the maps while we were in Paris. Remember?”

  “And that’s all it takes?”

  When Darien shrugged, Jessie realized her study of the maps was indeed all it took. A photographic memory of some kind. And though Jessie had grown up exploring the coastal Maine waterways, Darien already appeared to know them as well as, if not better than, she did. She kept all of those maps in her head. Amazing.

  “Here,” Darien said after a few minutes. “Why don’t you take the controls for a while?”

  “Really?”

  Darien slid out of the pilot’s seat. “You know the area, but you don’t know the boat. I’d like you to feel comfortable enough that if I’m ever out of commission, unable to help, you’ll be able to do whatever needs to be done.”

  Jessie had been eager to get her hands on the big boat, but she didn’t like the sound of the possibility Darien had just described. Reality, she realized, had just raised its ugly head.

  To anyone out on the water, or even at the marina, she and Darien looked like an ordinary couple, enjoying a vacation on the beautiful waters of coastal Maine. Except that they weren’t a couple and this wasn’t a vacation. She had made a mistake—a rookie mistake that could prove lethal in the field—by allowing the line between appearances and reality to blur. But as Darien’s words had just clearly reminded her, they were rapidly approaching the apex of a dangerous operation and lives were at stake, not the least of which was Darien’s.

  She clenched her teeth but managed somehow to smile. “I hear you.”

  She started to move toward the wheel, but Darien stopped her. “I’m sorry, Jesslyn. I’m just trying to stay one step ahead and make sure we have contingency plans in place. That’s all. I don’t want you to worry. Come and take the wheel.”

  Darien gently tugged on Jessie’s hand, pulling her closer and touching their entwined fingers to her lips. The look on her face left Jessie slightly breathless, filled with a heady anticipation, and it suddenly felt like she was being offered something other than control of the Tao.

  But she also acknowledged that steering tons of yacht on a crowded waterway was probably a safer bet to dealing with the look in Darien’s eyes. At least for the moment. She swallowed, realized Darien was saying something, and forced herself to try and concentrate. Something about—

  “Video games?” Darien repeated. “Have you ever played video games?”

  “Of course.” She’d played more than her share over the years. “Want to play later?”

  Darien laughed but didn’t respond to the double entendre beyond a raised eyebrow. “The joystick’s no different. Just like a video game. But don’t just play with the joystick. Before we head back today, I’d like you to be comfortable with both sets of controls.”

  Jessie nodded and took the controls, happy to be concentrating on something other than the heated blood coursing through her veins. “Sweet,” she murmured as the boat responded to her touch.

  Darien remained close but let her learn firsthand how the boat handled and how to correct for things like wind and currents and tides. Once it was clear she was comfortable, Darien showed her how to enter waypoints and set the autopilot using the touch-screen navigation system.

  “How is it you know how to use all this equipment?”

  “I’ve probably used something similar at one time or another. And it’s technology, right?”

  Jessie watched her a moment longer. “So you read the manual?”

  “Yes.” She gave a slight grin. “I’m sure I did, at some point.”

  She was clearly trying not to laugh, Jessie realized. She was also trying to keep a close eye on the radar continuously sweeping the navigational chart on the computer screen. “What are you looking for?”

  “Anyone following our course a little too closely.”

  “And?”

  With a quick shake of her head, Darien reassured her there was nothing close enough to worry about. Slowly relaxing, Jessie watched the rock wall of the shore recede and felt the memories of long-ago summers stir inside her. The scent, the taste, the very feel of the experience was familiar, and she was fifteen again, determined to explore every island.

  As she shook off the past and slipped back into the day, she began appreciating the stunning natural beauty of the Maine coastline she hadn’t enjoyed in much too long. The warm July sunshine and the refreshing sea breezes, the scenic bays, craggy peninsulas, the sparkling water. Even the whales were enjoying a perfect summer day, and she grinned as Darien pointed to first one, then two more humpbacks breaching not far from their starboard bow.

  *

  Darien noted both she and Jessie were more relaxed as she brought the boat back to the marina.

  It had been an uneventful day, which in her experience made it a good day. The water had been calm and the boat had handled exceptionally well, better than she could have hoped. She felt reassured that Jessie could deal with the big boat alone if she needed to. And if she was being honest with herself, the day on the water had helped her more than if she’d been able to spend the day catching up on lost sleep.

  The presence of military speedboats patrolling the water and a trio of helicopters buzzing occasionally in the air overhead proved surprisingly reassuring while serving as a constant reminder. There was a job at hand and an as yet unseen enemy. It helped her stay focused. Calm. Grounded. Ready to face whatever waited just around the next bend.

  More importantly, she had taken the first step in becoming very visible, letting anyone who wanted to or needed to know that she had arrived. She was here in Maine. And while it went against years of indoctrination and training, she had to remember this time, she wasn’t the hunter. She was the prey.

  The trap was now set, and all she needed was for Petrov to take the bait. And she would. Her need for vengeance was too strong, something Darien could readily identify with and understand. Except, at a guess, she had more experience with revenge than Petrov.

  Did Petrov know enough to dig two graves?

  She shook her head in a futile attempt to dispel her thoughts, then watched Jessie jump onto the dock and found herself pleasantly distracted. Even if it was just for a second or two, she paused to admire Jessie’s very shapely derriere as she bent to tie a line to one of the cleats. A moment later, she choked back a groan and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth when Jessie turned and caught her looking.

  Behave, Jessie mouthed, then crossed her eyes.

  Darien laughed out loud and shrugged semi-apologetically before heading below. She paused long enough to grab a change of clothes—shorts, a silk tank, and a white cotton shirt—then left the master stateroom head for Jessie while she made her way to the forward head. A quick shower should do the trick. Preferably cold.

  When she returned, she found Jessie sitting on the edge of the bed wearing a thin red silk robe, towel drying her hair. Jessie looked up and smiled, her face pink from sun and wind. “I just realized, unless we’re talking casual, I have nothing to wear that might be considered appropriate for dinner.”

  “Good,” Darien said as she slowly approached the bed. Closer until all she could smell was the delicate scent of shampoo mingling with a scent that was pure Jessie. “Don’t wear anything.”

  Jessie laughed. “I can’t go out to dinner dressed in—” Her words faded and her eyes grew wide when Darien stopped only inches from her face.

  She bent toward Jessie, to where she could
feel Jessie’s breath against the damp strands of hair that clung to her face.

  “Darien?”

  The soft kiss Darien brushed against her cheek made Jessie shiver. “I think you should stay right here, wearing exactly what you have on—and nothing else—while I get dinner from the restaurant and bring it back.”

  “You want me to stay here wearing only this robe?”

  “Yes…no.” Darien shook her head and reached for the sash holding the robe closed. It came undone with a single tug, and then she lifted her hands to the lapels and gently pulled them apart. “You’re so very beautiful. You take my breath away, and I want nothing more than to make love with you. I want to feel you wrapped around me. I want to hear my name on your lips and feel you come apart in my arms. Give yourself to me, Jesslyn. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “I guess you’ll have to trust me,” she said, her lips a breath away from Jessie’s. “I never make promises unless I intend to keep them.”

  She closed the final distance and brushed a kiss on Jessie’s lips, warm and soft, fully intending to leave, to pick up dinner. But Jessie clearly had ideas of her own and changed the tenor of the kiss as she pulled Darien down onto the bed with an irresistible pressure. She went willingly, felt as the kiss deepened, became demanding. It filled her with hunger and a sudden rush of heat that seeped into her body and flowed in her blood.

  And Darien responded, losing herself in the moment, giving in to the onslaught of sensations and emotions that flooded her. Without reservation. No hesitation. No holding back.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  In the hazy predawn light, Darien opened her eyes feeling disoriented. She didn’t know how long she’d slept or what time it was. Nor could she say what had awoken her. But for the first time in a very long time, she had woken up without the images of Prague filling her mind.

  As she slowly reflected on that surprising knowledge, awareness of her surroundings amplified and she found herself listening to the sound of water slapping softly against the hull. She breathed deeply and smiled, drawing pleasure from the gentle rocking motion of the boat and the warmth emanating from the woman lying beside her.

  Jessie looked so right there, sprawled on her stomach with the covers pooled around her hips and long spiky lashes shadowing her cheeks. She was as achingly beautiful asleep as she was awake. And sexy as hell.

  Darien squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She knew she could easily get lost just watching her sleep and swore she could feel every breath she drew. Hear every beat of her heart.

  She was no longer surprised to discover Jessie could make her blood run fever hot with a single look. Or make her ache without even trying. But she was amazed at how quickly a very real bond had formed and how Jessie made her want things Darien had never previously considered possible.

  Funny how just a few weeks can change everything. She could so easily get used to this, she thought, and wanted to keep the feelings close.

  Coffee. She needed coffee.

  She slipped quietly from the bed, taking care not to disturb Jessie. The air was cool and damp, and she shivered as it brushed against her bare skin. But it was simpler to bend down and retrieve the shorts and T-shirt she had tossed aside the evening before than try to find her jeans. Not if she didn’t want to wake Jessie up. Without giving it another thought, she scooped up the clothes from the floor and went to the head.

  Just as she returned to the stateroom minutes later, her instincts started to quiver and hum. Darien had learned long ago never to question them, and she moved to the night table and retrieved the SIG Sauer she’d left there. She checked it out of habit, even though she knew she would find it the way she always left it. Fully loaded with one in the chamber. But she felt better having checked, and she tucked the gun at the small of her back before making her way to the galley.

  Still uncertain what had caused her instincts to twitch, she left the lights off. She moved quietly through the shadows, flipped the switch on the coffeemaker, then stood motionless in the darkness. Breathing slowly, shallowly, making no sound, she let the sounds of her surroundings wash over her as she listened.

  At first, all she heard was the distant wail of a foghorn. The whisper of a breeze laced with salt. Water slapping against the dock pilings. Her blood pulsing through her. But then a faint noise alerted her. The unmistakable sound of someone approaching on the nearby dock.

  Darien waited, listened, and a moment later, she heard the sound of footsteps on the wooden planks, closer now. Soft. Cautious. As her training kicked in, she slipped out of her deck shoes and reached for her SIG, holding its familiar weight comfortably in her hand. And with her bare feet making no sound, she advanced toward the stairs.

  Sometime overnight, a thick fog had rolled in and enveloped the coast in a shroud of gray. It was nearly impenetrable, visibility limited to only a few feet. But she could feel someone’s presence in the movement of the air, and as she cleared the stairs and slipped onto the deck, she realized there might be barely enough light to see—but just enough light to kill.

  She waited in the misty shadows, keeping perfectly still until she saw the intruder materialize through the shifting veils of fog. Whoever it was would be getting a surprise, she thought. Weapon locked and loaded, she waited until they got a little closer. “You may as well come the rest of the way,” she said. “But you’re going to want to come in nice and soft because I have a SIG in my hand and I can guarantee one thing. I don’t miss—not at any distance.”

  A heartbeat later, she watched the intruder morph.

  “Hello, Darien. It’s been a long time,” Grace Lawson said before she stepped closer. But she kept her hands visible and empty, coming in soft as requested.

  Everything inside Darien went painfully still. She slowly lowered the gun to her side, but kept it in her hand. Grace was Jessie’s mother and someone she once knew. A friend of Ben’s. A friend of her own mother. But right now the only one who had her complete trust was Jessie. Anyone else would have to earn it.

  “You’re lucky,” she said. “My normal response is to shoot without asking any questions. In this case, that also means tossing people over the side when they try to come aboard without permission.”

  Grace was smart enough not to argue. “Point taken,” she said and smiled, suddenly looking years younger and even more familiar.

  Time fragmented and Darien felt the keen slash of memories, reminding her of another life, another time, and a woman she had once loved nearly as much as she had loved her own mother. “Why are you here, Grace? Is there a problem that couldn’t be communicated through channels over the satellite phone? Ben warned me it was likely you’d want a face-to-face meeting, but I can’t imagine why.”

  “Can’t you? There was a time you would have been happy to see me.” Grace fell silent, studied Darien, and then sighed. “I was recently reminded it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you or talked to you. And with things rapidly coming to a head, I thought it was time to change that.”

  “Time? You thought it was time?” Tension shimmered in her voice as a whisper of anger seeped into Darien’s blood. “Well, isn’t that bloody marvelous.”

  There was no visible change in Grace’s expression, but Darien heard the slight hitch in her breathing. She watched Grace swallow and saw her gather her rather formidable reserves around herself before she finally spoke.

  “It’s been nearly fifteen years, Darien. Even you would have to admit it’s been a long time. Plus we are both aware you have my daughter with you.”

  “Yes, how about that,” Darien said dryly and forced herself to smile. “Imagine my surprise when one of the operatives you sent to Paris turned out to be your daughter. Especially after you went to such lengths to make certain our paths never crossed, all those years ago.”

  It still hurt, she realized. Damn. Fifteen years later and it still hurt that Grace had chosen to walk away from the child
she had been, leaving Ben to deal with the inevitable fallout. Darien willed the hurt into a dark corner of her mind. But it took more effort than she’d anticipated, and she had to struggle to keep her expression neutral, her voice steady.

  “You had to know Ben would bring me in,” she continued. “So it stands to reason you knew Jesslyn would end up meeting me—working with me—when you sent her to work with Ben.”

  “I thought that might be the case. But I couldn’t allow it to influence my decision to send Jesslyn. She’s good at what she does, which made her the right choice. And I stand by what I believe was the right decision.”

  When Darien didn’t respond, Grace paused, stared at her for a long few seconds, then adjusted her stance. “As for the decision I made fifteen years ago—to leave you with Ben—I don’t expect you to understand, Darien, but I believed I needed to protect my family. My daughter. And I did what I thought was best for all concerned.”

  In spite of her best effort, Darien felt her pulse accelerate and struggled to present a calm she didn’t feel. “You honestly thought I would hurt Jesslyn?”

  “Not intentionally, no. But try to put yourself in my position, Darien. Even before we finished destroying what we all hoped was the last of the Guild, you were out of control. Dear Lord, you were almost feral.” She paused as if expecting an argument. When none came, she continued. “You were only thirteen, but you’d lived your whole life in the shadows and had just spent the better part of a year hunting and killing people with single-minded purpose. If you can remember that, how could you expect me to risk…?”

  How could I expect her to risk Jesslyn, Darien silently finished for her and briefly closed her eyes. “You know what, Grace? It’s ancient history. It can’t be changed. None of it can and we’re both better off forgetting about it. But there is one thing you should know. Jesslyn is more than good. She’s the best.”

 

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