“I was deployed at the time. My absence was unavoidable, though I’m working on rectifying that now.”
She didn’t have to feign her curiosity, though it came off more blatant than was probably considered polite for a woman of her standing. “Are you no longer with your country’s military?”
Jamie waved off the question. “Once a Marine, always a Marine, but deployment is no longer in my future. I’m looking for other ways to pass the time.”
Jamie made a point of tugging Kyle closer. Dame Wallace’s eyes strayed to Kyle’s silent presence, full mouth quirking just a bit in a vaguely condescending way. “I can see you’ve found one already.”
“He does entertain me,” Jamie agreed, a smirk on his face that was easy to interpret. “Is your husband here tonight?”
Dame Wallace took the opening for what it was and chatted about things Jamie had no interest in, but he took her contact information with the promise of a meeting to discuss what security Root Source, Inc. could provide her family’s business.
“I entertain you?” Kyle asked as they walked away, chewing on the metal skewer.
Jamie pulled it out of his mouth, dropping it on the tiled floor with a faint clatter as they entered a long gallery full of marble sculptures—busts, life-sized statues, and every size in between. “You entertain me all the time, especially when you’re on your knees.”
“I’m sure we can find a room somewhere around here to pass the time if that’s what you really want.”
Jamie ignored the politely disgusted look a passing guest gave them as they came to a stop in front of sculpture consisting of three women hugging. Jamie reached out and grabbed Kyle’s chin in firm fingers, tilting his head back so Jamie could look directly into Kyle’s eyes.
“If I wanted you on your knees, you would be there. Tonight, we’re working,” Jamie said.
“I still find it a shame a man like you isn’t as much of an exhibitionist I originally pegged you for,” a familiar voice said. “You controlling types do like showing off what belongs to you, after all.”
Kyle’s green eyes narrowed. Can I shoot him? Please?
You don’t even have a gun on you, Jamie replied.
I can get one.
No.
Worst captain ever.
Jamie let go of Kyle’s chin and curved his arm around the smaller man in a possessive manner before turning to face Niko. The Dutchman was impossible to miss in a tuxedo more on trend than anyone else’s in the room. The dark burgundy wool paired with a black dress shirt was a spot of color in a sea of black suits. Standing next to him was a woman who looked like she’d stepped off a fashion runway—arm candy only, judging by the way Niko squeezed her ass and sent her on her way with an indulgent smile.
“As I told you at Vesuvius,” Jamie coolly said, “I don’t like sharing.”
“A pity, that.” Niko took a sip of what looked like a gin and tonic, his eyes never leaving Jamie’s face. “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”
“Honestly? I’m finding the gala a waste of my time. I’m hoping Katie is having better luck than I am in finding potential clients. I’m not impressed with half the guests you invited.”
“Most seem to be impressed with you.”
“Unless we’re talking about your employer, I don’t particularly care.” Jamie shifted his hold on Kyle, running his hand up Kyle’s back to grip Kyle’s neck. He turned his head to stare down into Kyle’s eyes, gently squeezing his fingers. “Why don’t you go find yourself something to drink?”
Kyle tongued his bottom lip, blinking slowly. “Just one?”
“I don’t want you drunk.”
“Yes, sir,” Kyle practically purred before slipping away and disappearing into the crowd, Madison mere steps behind him.
That is more about your sex life than I ever wanted to know, Donovan told Jamie in a mournful sounding voice.
Jamie ignored the quiet laughter from the others in his mind in favor of the task at hand.
“I can see what draws you to him,” Niko said, his eyes locked on the direction Kyle had gone. “It really is a shame you don’t share.”
Jamie had to fight to keep the anger off his face and settled for a cold look that any of the Marines in his old platoon would have recognized as the equivalent to incoming mortar fire. “For you.”
“Tragically, yes.” Niko made a show of glancing around Jamie’s immediate area. “I don’t see your sister around. Will she be joining you later?”
Don’t do it, Donovan warned in his mind even before Jamie’s fist was half-formed.
One punch would be all he needed to take Niko out, but Donovan was right. They couldn’t risk making that kind of scene. Not yet, at least. Jamie shoved aside his anger at knowing Niko was the one behind Leah’s invitation to the gala. Whether the Dutchman had wanted to use her as leverage or target her for something worse, Jamie didn’t know. He was just glad he’d kept Leah away and safe tonight.
“When I explained tonight was more a business scene than a party scene, Leah opted for a night out at the clubs instead. I’m sure she and her friends are dancing up a storm somewhere else,” Jamie lied.
“I hope they chose Vesuvius. If they did, I can call—”
“They didn’t.”
Niko pursed his mouth, before shrugging. “If she changes her mind, let me know. I’ll make sure they’re well taken care of. Supplying the customer with what they want is only good business. We’re both businessmen here, Jamie. You understand.”
“As I understand it, you’re a facilitator. That’s less decision-maker and more subordinate. So why don’t you let your employer know I’m only interested in talking to him, and if he’s unavailable, then I walk.”
Niko froze mid-sip of his drink, eyes flicking for a quick second off to the side. Jamie didn’t bother to look, knowing everyone in that area wasn’t important.
“Him?” Niko finally said after finishing his sip.
“We both know Oksana isn’t the one in charge. Did you think we wouldn’t do our due diligence before making overtures with you?” Jamie stepped forward, using his superior height and build to loom over Niko. “I’m sure you know money isn’t an issue for me. What I’m after is making a name for myself in markets that aren’t saturated. Katie convinced me this was the way to go, and I take her counsel very seriously. She is extremely good at what she does, which is why I had no problem bankrolling her company. What we can provide is something your employer needs, and if he’s willing to pay, then we’re willing to work with him. So why don’t you cut out the middleman and introduce us?”
Niko’s eyes narrowed even as his shoulders raised a fraction of an inch in reaction to Jamie’s close presence. He didn’t start gibbering out excuses though, but neither did he back away. Jamie had to admit that Niko was a good performer, cognizant of the eyes on them from too-curious gala attendees. From the outside, it probably looked like they were having a conversation they didn’t want anyone else to overhear.
Niko probably wished the conversation was going in an entirely different direction.
Jamie couldn’t feel it when Niko tried to use his empathy to influence Jamie’s emotions, but he could tell when the other man became frustrated at his failure by the way he almost broke his glass when he clenched his hand a little too tightly around it.
“You’re a hard man to please. Most people are happy when they see me,” Niko got out in a clipped voice, some of his English accent fading beneath the edges of his birth language.
“I’m not most people.”
“No, you certainly are not.” Niko smoothed out his expression, the anger leaving his face, if not his eyes. There was a coldness there Jamie didn’t like, but he trusted in the shields Katie had reinforced in all their minds that morning to hold. “I’m surprised you seem to think you know who my employer is.”
Jamie shrugged, taking a step back, giving Niko room to breathe in such a way that would signal it was on Jamie’s terms. “If there’s one
thing the Marine Corps is good at, it’s preparing you to handle anything the world can and will throw at you. Information is currency, and I hold it at a high value.”
“Ekaterina said something similar at lunch the other day. Some tech you left with that actually works?”
“The United States military is on the cutting edge of weaponry. I wasn’t averse to leaving with some,” Jamie said, going for a cryptic casualness over solid details.
Niko’s eyes narrowed, but his expression remained politely interested. “I see.”
Jamie looked down his nose at the other man. “And I think you’ll see I’m running out of patience. We played your little game and cracked your little code. We did what you asked, free of cost, I might add. Now why don’t you hold up your end of the bargain and introduce me to your boss.”
“You’re in luck.” Niko set his glass down on the railing surrounding the sculpture they stood next to. “Stanislav Pavluhkin came tonight specifically to meet with you. Shall we?”
Jamie waved his hand at the nearest exit. “Lead the way.”
13
One Heartbeat Away From Killing
Anyone find anything? Kyle asked through the mental links tying the team together. Because I haven’t.
Nothing, Katie replied.
Find nothing, too, Alexei added.
Unless Cillian hid the bombs in some of the larger artworks, I’m not seeing where they could be in the wings marked off for the gala, Sean said.
Which means they could be on the upper floors. Only the first three floors are open for the gala, Annabelle said.
Not good planning. Who they hit if no one up there? Alexei asked derisively.
Kyle snagged a pastry puff off a floating tray and popped it into his mouth, chewing angrily as he stared at vases lining the wall behind glass cases while he waited his turn in line for a drink. He was one floor up and several galleries over from where he’d left Jamie, who had basically given him free rein by turning him loose. Kyle didn’t want to waste any time searching, but he couldn’t be obvious about it. So he’d stopped to stare at several crafts exhibits and displays as he moved through the museum, but goddamn, art was boring.
We need to find these damn bombs. Otherwise—
“I honestly didn’t expect to see you here,” a smooth, Russian-accented voice said from behind him, derailing his thoughts. “Jamie never did properly introduce you last Saturday. Here I thought you were merely a plaything that knew how to keep his mouth shut, not a companion worth a night out like this. You clean up nice, but this venue isn’t quite your scene.”
Kyle couldn’t quite stop his shoulders from stiffening at the veiled insult. He swallowed his bite of food, trying not to choke on it. Wiping the back of one hand across his mouth probably added to Oksana’s opinion of his lower-class status, but Kyle didn’t care. This was the role he was playing, he reminded himself.
Jamie’s version of slumming it.
“I don’t think you run high enough in Jamie’s social circles to know where he takes me,” Kyle replied as he turned to face Oksana. “And my name is Kyle.”
Oksana arched one perfectly shaped brow. “I know. We looked you up after the club.”
“If you knew, then you didn’t need to ask.”
“I’m a woman who likes confirmation of details.”
Oksana wore an ice-blue dress that Kyle assumed was vintage or couture or whatever word people used for fashion. Kyle wouldn’t know; he’d worn a uniform for half his life. That was the least fashionable one could get. What surprised him wasn’t her outfit, which was pretty, if one liked high enough slits that it was obvious she wasn’t wearing underwear. No, what caught his attention was she’d dyed her hair from brown to blonde, the color teasing his memory, but he couldn’t dwell on that just yet.
Oksana hadn’t changed her eye color, though she was still escorted by the pair of Presnenskaya Bratva members from last weekend, their tattoos hidden beneath precise tailoring. The two men stood behind Oksana, a solid presence impossible to miss, much how Madison stood behind Kyle.
“Men like Jamie Callahan get tired of having the same people in their bed night after night. I suppose he pays you well?” Oksana asked before curving her lips over the rim of her champagne glass to take a sip. Her question was just loud enough to draw the attention of a few nearby people, most of whom weren’t shy about watching the drama unfold.
“He doesn’t,” Kyle replied coldly. “Pay me at all, that is.”
“Interesting. I’d believe blackmail was in play, but you don’t strike me as a man with any worth.”
Kyle tucked his hands into his pant pockets, bunching up the hem of his tuxedo jacket. He had to fight to keep his expression from slipping into the cold focused mask Alexei had dubbed years ago as his resting sniper face. Apparently it tipped people off that he could fuck them up without breaking a sweat, and while his background for this mission said he was supposed to be a Marine, not Strike Force, Kyle’s role was supposed to be that of a kept man now, not a killer.
“You don’t know me at all, Oksana.”
She shrugged off his words. “I know enough. Other than honorable discharge and an investigation into your relationship with your commanding officer, which the Marines found no evidence of, and yet, Jamie has no issues parading you about after the fact.”
“We’re no longer in the Marines.”
“So my research discovered.”
Kyle cocked his head to the side, staring at her, memorizing the features of her face in the museum lighting that was much brighter than the club, but it wasn’t daylight. It wasn’t midday sun shining through a sniper’s scope on a city street.
Kyle was really regretting not carrying a gun with him.
“Do you always dig deep into potential business partners?” Kyle wanted to know.
Oksana flipped a curl over her shoulder, putting the deep neckline of her gown on full display. If Kyle liked women at all, he’d probably be interested in seeing her like this. But he didn’t, so her little show was more annoying than anything else, because it was keeping him from getting a goddamn drink to cover up the fact he was looking for explosives.
“Security is my job, much in the vein of the company your friends run. Jamie Callahan is an interesting man, who is friends with interesting people, and who comes from an interesting family. You can learn a lot about a man by the people he surrounds himself with. I’m curious to know what he sees in someone as unrefined as yourself.”
“I call him out when he’s being an asshole. He seems to appreciate that.”
Oksana laughed a little condescendingly at his answer. “Very few in his position do. I doubt his appreciation will last long.”
“I don’t know, it’s been two years since we were discharged. I highly doubt he’ll change his mind. If Jamie didn’t want me, then I wouldn’t be here.”
“I’m glad to see you understand your place. I’m sure Jamie will come to learn his in time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kyle asked sharply.
“Nothing you need to worry about.” Oksana tipped her head in his direction as she turned away. “I really must be going now. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon, Kyle. Da svidanya.”
Kyle watched her walk away and disappear into the crowd, aware of the people around him not bothering to hide their curiosity. Kyle knew Oksana had calculated this quick little meeting to insult him. Why, he didn’t know. And while some of her words had hit a little too close to home, Kyle only had to remember what Jamie had said.
They were playing a role. It wasn’t the truth of what they were.
“Wow,” Madison said in a low voice. “What a bitch.”
Kyle snorted out a laugh. “Yeah. What a bitch.”
He turned around to face Madison, right as a server walked a little too close. Not wanting to get hit in the face by several of the floating trays orbiting the server’s body, Kyle took a step back and ended up bumping into someone behind him. Usually, he
knew where everyone else was in relation to himself, but Oksana’s comments seemed to have thrown a wrench into his spatial awareness.
“Shit!” Kyle exclaimed, going for chagrined embarrassment because it fit his persona. “Sorry!”
“You fucking arsehole, look what you’ve done!” the heavyset man in question snarled, gesturing at the vest and white dress shirt he wore now stained with red wine.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t see where I was going.”
“Obviously.”
Madison produced a small linen napkin from somewhere—probably stolen from a server—and stepped forward to offer it to the man. “Mr. Brannigan is terribly sorry for accidentally ruining your clothes for the evening. He’ll be happy to pay the price of your dry-cleaning if you provide your contact information.”
The man snatched the napkin from her hand and started dabbing at his chest with frantic motions while his wife patted him gently on the arm in a comforting manner. “It’s not the clothes I’m worried about!”
“Your reputation will be fine, dear,” his wife absently said.
The man scowled, still muttering as he tried to soak up some of the wine stain. His hands were shaking through the motions, and Kyle hoped the guy wasn’t going to try to start a fight out of anger. Kyle would really hate to have to pay for his medical bills on top of his dry cleaning.
Madison went stiff in an instant, her utter stillness making Kyle take a step closer.
“Sir,” Madison said in an icy, polite voice. “I think we should get some water on that stain.”
“Your suggestion is not wanted nor—”
“Sir.” Madison stepped closer, teeth bared in a hard smile as she caught the man’s gaze, pinning him with a look that had him freezing where he stood. “Let’s go clean your clothes. Now.”
The man’s eyes flickered to the side, a panicked tell that had Kyle looking more intently at the stranger. Tall, more heavyset than broad, with a tuxedo that should have been tailored a little better judging by the amount of jewelry he wore. If he could afford thick gold rings embedded with diamonds and emeralds, then he could afford a damn tailor.
In the Ruins (Metahuman Files Book 2) Page 26