Rules of Revenge

by AJ Quinn

She realized her mistake almost as soon as she said it, even before Grace’s head snapped up. She’d clearly revealed something of her feelings. In her voice or through her words. Grace confirmed her suspicion an instant later.

  “What have you done, Darien?”

  Darien remained silent under the intensity and weight of Grace’s scrutiny before she moved out of the shadows. “It would be a mistake to think you still know me,” she said, leaving Grace’s question unanswered while calmly tucking her gun back at the small of her back and indicating the stairs. “Jesslyn’s still asleep, but the coffee should be ready by now. You’re welcome to have a cup while you’re waiting for her to get up. Maybe she’ll be more inclined to answer your questions. Do you still take it black with one sugar?”

  “I’m surprised you remember.”

  “I remember everything, Grace.”

  Darien willed away thoughts that intruded, willed away old hurts, leaving only an aching emptiness. She started to turn and saw Jessie standing near the top of the stairs. Wearing one of Darien’s white cotton shirts, with only a couple of buttons done up. Her eyes were wide, but her mouth was flattened into a hard line, while the bleak expression on her face said she had heard too much.

  *

  Jessie’s head was spinning and for a moment all she could do was breathe. Too late she remembered Ben’s caution about things not having ended well between Darien and her mother. At the time she had wondered what he meant. Now it seemed she had finally found out, but she still wasn’t certain she was putting it all together correctly. Was she?

  She looked at Darien, noted sadly that her beautiful face was singularly without expression, then turned to stare at her mother. “Did I just hear you correctly? You abandoned her because of me?”

  Her mother flinched and looked as if she wanted no part of the conversation, but Jessie wasn’t about to allow that. “Damn it, mother, I just heard you tell Darien you left her behind to protect me. Is that what happened? Is that what you did?”

  Before Grace could respond, Darien stepped in front of Jessie. Blocking her view of her mother, she waited until Jessie’s eyes connected with hers. “I’m going to get changed and go for a run.” She lifted her hand and briefly touched Jessie’s face. “It’ll give you and your mother some privacy so you can talk. It’ll also give me a much-needed chance to clear my head.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Jessie realized Darien wasn’t listening and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cool air whispering over her skin. “Damn it, Darien, no. You’re just giving Petrov an easy chance to grab you. Which means the last thing you should be doing is going anywhere alone.”

  Darien showed no reaction beyond a low, mirthless laugh. “I’m the last person you need to be worried about when it comes to being able to look after myself. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m certain Grace will be only too happy to fill in any blanks you may have. And the whole point of our being here is to give Petrov just that chance.”

  Jessie looked at her and frowned. Clearly she and her mother needed to talk. But the distance Darien was throwing between them was a much bigger problem. Tension swirled between them. It felt tangible, had weight and substance, and worse, she couldn’t think of any way to change things, to stop what was happening. Her inability to think left her frozen, a part of the fog-bound tableau on the deck, as she watched Darien disappear down the stairs.

  She was still standing there under her mother’s watchful eyes, too numb to move or say anything, when Darien returned a short couple of minutes later. She had changed into black spandex shorts and a black long-sleeved T-shirt and had pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail. She looked as dark and dangerous as she ever had, exuded strength, and walked with the same easy confidence she always did. But Jessie could also sense her growing isolation and felt compelled to try again.

  “Dare, please listen. I’m really not sure this is a good idea.” For an instant Jessie thought she’d gotten through. Thought she had seen the barriers Darien had erected around herself begin to fracture.

  “This hurts,” Darien murmured. “Why did I think it wouldn’t?”

  “What hurts, Darien?”

  But even as she asked the question, a mask closed over Darien’s face, reminding Jessie just how good she really was at that, at shutting out the world and everyone in it.

  “I have to go. Sooner rather than later, Petrov needs a chance to grab me. And we all know it’ll be better for everyone concerned if I’m alone when she comes for me.”

  Unsaid was that if anyone—if Jessie—was around her when Petrov finally made her move, she could become collateral damage. It didn’t need to be said. But damn it, surely if they used their collective intelligence, they could come up with a better plan than this. “Darien, wait. We need to think this through.”

  Not surprising, Darien didn’t listen. Instead, Jessie watched her turn away, moving like a wraith with unnerving silence as she disappeared from sight without looking back. Jessie continued to stare into the fog long after Darien’s shadow had faded before finally turning to face her mother, who was watching intently. “I need some coffee.”

  She didn’t bother to wait for a response as she led the way down to the galley, flipping the light switch on as she passed to chase away the suddenly oppressive darkness. She reached into a cupboard, brought down two mugs, and filled them with coffee, adding a single sugar cube to one before passing it to her mother.

  “Talk to me,” she said, clasping her own coffee mug tightly in both hands, trying to absorb its warmth. “Explain how the woman I thought I knew all my life could have left a thirteen-year-old child behind to fend for herself. Especially a child who was still trying to deal with her mother’s murder.”

  Jessie saw her words hit home and the bright galley lights emphasized Grace’s sudden pallor. There was a long silence, and then she heard Grace’s soft voice ask, “How much do you know about what happened in Prague fifteen years ago? How much did Darien share?”

  “I would say she told me most of it. About the men that grabbed her, and witnessing what was done to her mother. About escaping the brothel and going after the killers. And about you and Ben finding her and helping her finish the job.”

  Grace drew in a soundless breath. “I’m surprised she revealed so much. The Darien I once knew would never have been so forthcoming.”

  “She’s changed. Even in the short time I’ve known her, I can see that she’s changed.” Jessie slumped onto the couch, her forearms resting on her knees, hands still seeking the warmth of the coffee mug, while she stared up at her mother’s eyes. So like her own, but nothing she saw gave her a clue. “It’s my job to sift through and interpret intel, but the one thing I could never understand and Darien never willingly shared was how she ended up with Ben in London. Straight into the waiting arms of MI6. It was like she never had a chance to do or be anything other than what she is.”

  “A killer?”

  “A very talented and very deadly operative,” Jessie countered without heat. “So imagine my dismay when I hear you say you chose to leave her with Ben to protect me. How in hell could you have done that to her?”

  “Actually, darling, I was thinking of you.”

  Jessie flinched. “How can you say that?”

  “Because it’s the truth, Jesslyn. I knew you but I also knew Darien. And even though you were only fifteen, I knew instinctively you would take one look at her—at that wild and beautiful woman-child—and that would be it for you. At the time, the thought terrified me.”

  Somewhere a foghorn called mournfully. As the sound thinned and faded, it left only the faint slapping of water against the hull to disturb the silence.

  “Well, it may have taken fifteen years,” Jessie said softly, “but it turns out you were right all along.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  The morning sun had burned away the remnants of fog by the time Darien stopped for coffee at a small café close to the waterfront. The
breakfast crowd of tourists and locals had thinned. But as she chatted with the young waitress—maybe nineteen, and saving so she could go away to college—she learned business would remain fairly steady before surging again at lunchtime.

  “I don’t mind, I like to keep busy,” the girl said. She gave Darien an appraising look and sent her a cheeky grin before adding, “And the tips are really good, especially from the boating crowd.”

  Taking her coffee to a small outside table near the front door, Darien took a sip then rested her head against the wall behind her. She watched as people parked nearby, got out of their cars, and picked up coffee to go before piling back into their vehicles and driving off. Others jogged by or walked dogs. They smiled and nodded to her. She raised her coffee in salute and smiled back.

  Just another runner cooling down, enjoying the view. Reflecting on the morning.

  The ever-present scent of the sea and the looming evergreens had done their job, serving to calm and soothe her. And as she had hoped, the run had helped to clear her head. It always did. But it had also yielded an unexpected side benefit. It had helped ease the headache that seemed to have become her constant companion since her last fight at Oz.

  It was only fair, she thought wryly, since she had picked up other companions in the exchange. She’d been keenly aware of them, the unseen eyes that had her senses tingling from the moment she’d left the boat.

  She knew, of course, that some of her watchers would be part of the joint MI6-CIA team Ben and Grace had put on the ground. Assigned to monitor, but not interfere. Waiting for Petrov to make her move so they could track her back to wherever she was hiding.

  But there were others. When she’d stopped to fiddle with a lace on her running shoe and had glanced back, all she’d caught were shadow figures. Nothing else really popped, which told her they were good. And that made sense. At this late stage in the game, she expected Petrov would have pulled out all the stops and was going with her best resources.

  Darien shrugged. There was still nothing she couldn’t handle.

  For some reason, possibly lingering restlessness, at the end of her run she’d continued into the heart of the village instead of turning into the marina. It was only afterward, when she found herself aimlessly looking in shop windows, that she realized she was avoiding a return to the boat. The thought annoyed her.

  Under normal circumstances, she would not consider herself a coward.

  But then these aren’t normal circumstances, are they?

  No, far from it. She considered the nature of her restlessness and acknowledged she ought to be in constant motion, hunting for Petrov. Not sitting here, highly visible, waiting for Petrov to act. She hadn’t anticipated how heavily the passive stance would weigh on her. But she should have known. She needed to act, to get things started. Get things done. Then move on.

  Seeing Grace again hadn’t helped. Her unexpected appearance had stirred the dust and detritus Darien believed was keeping the past securely covered. She had exposed all the wreckage, the grief, and the regret Darien had tried for years to hold in check. And she had reminded Darien of how long she’d hidden herself away, believing it was easier than interacting with people. Easier than explaining what had happened and what she’d done. What she’d become.

  And now? Avoiding Grace and whatever tales she would have told by now would not solve anything. Not that she believed there was anything Grace could tell Jesslyn that she herself hadn’t already told her. And even if Grace provided details Darien had left out, she truly didn’t think any new revelations would have the power to cut the threads binding her to Jesslyn. Or at least she needed to believe that.

  She gave herself a mental shake. The past was the past and couldn’t be changed. There was a job to do. An operation that dictated Petrov would come for her. And no one needed to tell her she needed her head in the game if she intended to survive.

  Ordering another coffee to go, she paid her bill and overtipped her waitress, hopefully contributing to the girl’s college fund. She then slowly made her way back to the marina.

  *

  If still waters ran deep, Darien Troy ran endless fathoms. It was the only thing Jessie could think of as she watched her coalesce from thought into a living, breathing woman.

  She had been gone longer than Jessie had anticipated, but she was finally returning from her run, the sun slanting across her as she walked slowly down the dock toward the boat. The run appeared to have done her good. Her face was glowing, her golden skin flushed and damp with a faint sheen of perspiration. And her body, in the black T-shirt and running shorts, could make a grown woman weep.

  Watching her made Jessie’s nerves awaken. She felt her pulse kick up and her throat go dry, while her body was ignited by a thousand different emotions. Memory sliced into her awareness, taking her back to the night she had met Darien. Inexplicably, she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off her that night. And now, now that she’d gotten to know her better, now that she had been with her and had become intimately acquainted with both the heat and tenderness of her touch, the flood of sensations left her breathless and wanting with an elemental hunger.

  A killer, her mother had said.

  Yes, she was. Unquestionably lethal. But she was so much more. In the time they had been together, she had seen other sides. Darien had let her in physically, holding nothing back. They had also grown closer emotionally. Laughing, talking, or simply sharing quiet moments.

  Darien would never be an easy person to live with. Or to love. Jessie already knew that. But more importantly, she could provide the strength Jessie wanted in her life, needed in a partner. She would challenge her. Hell, they would challenge each other. Endless possibilities opened up before her.

  She knew she was getting ahead of herself. They hadn’t talked about anything beyond the present moment. She didn’t really know what Darien wanted, or what she dreamed beyond the nightmares of Prague. But her mother was right. Darien was it for her. She knew that as clearly as she knew she needed to take her next breath.

  Of course, she also knew there were things that would need to be dealt with between here and then. Critical things. First she would need to ensure Darien survived whatever Nadia Petrov had planned for her. And they needed to ensure the Guild was prevented from carrying out its larger agenda of terror and destruction.

  But after that? After that, she would take her time and convince Darien she both wanted and needed her in her life. That they could make it work. A walk in the park, after saving the world.

  “Something smells good,” Darien said as she stepped onto the satin teak deck.

  “I thought you might be hungry after your run. So I made French toast—I have it in the warmer. I also picked up some of Maine’s much vaunted blueberries to go with it. They were frozen and came from last year’s crop, but I confess I’ve been nibbling on them and they’re really quite wonderful.” Heat rushed into her cheeks. She was rambling and she knew it. The problem was so did Darien, who was looking at her with an expression somewhere between suspicious and cautious.

  “Are you okay?”

  No. “Yes.”

  “Did Grace leave, or will she be joining us for breakfast?”

  “She left.”

  Jessie extended her hand. She waited until Darien grasped it and laced their fingers together before she drew her close and led her down to the galley.

  She nudged Darien down at the table, then quickly moved away. It was either that or she was going to grab her and pull her into the stateroom and onto the big bed. Because all she wanted to do at this moment was abandon herself to the heat pulsing through her, to the sweet ache of wanting Darien. But what she really needed to do was get her head back in the game.

  It was really good advice she was giving herself, and she was trying hard to follow it. But it was made more difficult when Darien was sitting within arm’s reach, looking like temptation personified.

  She brought the French toast out of the warming oven, slid so
me on two plates, then put one in front of Darien, the other beside her on the table. She remembered to get the berries and butter and maple syrup, some ice water for Darien, and juice for herself. Finally, with nothing left to do or get, she took a seat at the narrow table and began to eat.

  “So how was the run? See anything interesting?”

  Darien sent her a sideways look. “It was good. Absolutely beautiful, actually. Mountains and ocean and trees, along with a few gut-wrenching hills to keep me honest. And lots of company.”

  Jessie went still and looked at her. “Company?”

  “Some combination of the home team and Petrov’s crew, I would imagine. I have to admit it wasn’t the most comfortable I’ve ever felt while running. It felt too much like I had crosshairs on my back.” Darien looked at her and shrugged. “But we both know it’s going to happen sooner rather than later, and more importantly, it’s going to net us what we need. Petrov. Tell me why it bothers you so much.”

  Because it risks you too much, she wanted to say. “Because the longer I think about it, the less I like this plan. There has to be another way—a way of getting Petrov without putting you in jeopardy.”

  “There probably is, but nothing any of us have been able to come up with until now, let alone in the time we have left.” Darien sighed. “Jesslyn, the one thing we know to be true is that Petrov wants me. I can’t say for certain, but I would hazard a guess she wants me as badly as I once wanted her father when I went after Dmitri all those years ago. I know what that feels like.”

  Jessie remained silent, choosing to wait for Darien to continue at her own pace.

  “What I can tell you from personal experience dealing with revenge is she’s not going to give up. And since she’s going to come after me anyway, this way we get to follow my tracking signal back to wherever she’s hiding. We not only get her and her weapons, we neutralize her plans and save the day.”

  “I know all of that,” Jessie said quietly, “but those of us who are going to be tracking your signal aren’t the ones walking into the line of fire. That’ll be all you. What if she just kills you right away? Have you even thought of that?”