I sighed. “Liliana really did a number on you, didn’t she?” At his wide eyes I said, “I don’t do ultimatums, Vayl. It’s not a this or that deal. You’re going to do what you feel is right. So am I. That’s why they call us adults. And, frankly, I do think you should try to meet the souls that once lived in the bodies of your boys. Someday. After you’ve said goodbye to Hanzi and Badu. When you’ve come to realize that the men you meet in America will not be the teenage Rom you loved beyond words over two hundred years ago. They’ll be grown-ups. Who were raised by men other than you. Men they call Dad.”
Vayl shook his head. Hard. “No. It must not be like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because they are all I have!” He spat the words like they’d been beaten out of him.
“No, Vayl,” I said softly. I let my fingers brush across the top of his hand. Just a touch to remind him of what could be. He shuddered. To be honest, I felt the same. I sucked in a breath. Forced myself to concentrate. I said, “They were all you
had
.”
Before his eyes could go completely green I held up my hands. “My point is, your obsession has already messed with me. The fact that you took Zarsa’s blood. That you did something that intimate with her. That you planned to get even closer. You’re right. It makes me want to wrap you up in rubber bands and then just sit next to you and snap them every time I feel annoyed at you. Which at this point would be all night long.”
He should have looked remorseful. But I thought my words actually excited him. His voice, always husky and low took on a rich undertone as he said, “Jasmine? Are you jealous?”
“Not quite,” I said softly. “But if you belonged to me. Only me. I would be.”
He knew exactly what I meant. He ran his hands up my thighs. Oh. So. Slowly. “Soon,” he whispered.
I shook my head. “Not until you’re ready.”
He pulled his hands back. My thighs throbbed, missing their weight, their heat. “My boys,” he whispered.
“I love them too,” I told him. “Because they were yours.” Startling thought.
I wish they’d been mine. I’d have kicked their asses up, down, and sideways before I’d have allowed them to be the kind of hellions who’d steal a farmer’s wagon. Then they would never have been in a position for that same farmer to shoot them dead
. “But you’re holding them too hard.”
He took a while to ponder the palms of his hands. The mask that typically held back every emotion he ever experienced had slid back into place. “I will have to think on it. This is not something I can just . . . do.”
“Sure.”
I watched him get up, go into the kitchen. I still had to tell him the man we were assigned to take out tonight wasn’t the Wizard’s henchman, but somebody our country would love to support if only we’d known about him. I sighed. It should be good news.
Guess what, Vayl? We don’t have to kill anybody tonight. Let’s partaaay!!
Except the uppity-ups wouldn’t buy our evidence. It was way too flimsy in light of their particular theory, which took into account everything they’d invested in this project. They wanted results. And since we couldn’t promise them that, at least not the kind they could parade across the TV screen, we’d no doubt lose our jobs before we had a chance to pull off the mission as we’d rearranged it.
I went into the kitchen. Vayl was sitting at the counter, pouring blood into a coffee cup. I took the stool beside him. “Is there any way we can avoid contacting Pete and the DOD dudes until our mission’s over?”
“Why?”
I explained what I’d learned about FarjAd Daei while he was out of touch. And my suspicions that my little rewrite of the Big Boss’s script would be met with either outright hostility — “You’re FIRED!” — or surface cooperation — “Well, what you say makes sense” — at which point General Danfer covers the receiver, tells an aide to call Dave on the other line, and orders him to follow through on the assignment Vayl and I inexplicably refuse to complete.
Vayl looked at his cup thoughtfully. “I apologize.”
“What?”
“You have shouldered the burden of this entire mission yourself.”
“Naw, not really. I mean —”
“Yes. And you must be frantic about David. But you have not said a word to me, your
sverhamin
. To whom you should feel free to reveal any thought. Any wish.”
I shrugged. “It’s what I do.”
He shook his head. “It was what you did before we met. Long before I gave you Cirilai. I have shoved you back into your former life. And you barely even noticed. Were you so comfortable there?”
I shrugged. “No. Horribly, terribly
un
comfortable. But I knew where I stood. Here, it’s like I’m never sure of my next step. Nobody tells me the rules until five minutes before I need to know. And you.” I shook my head. “Being with you is like riding the highest, longest roller coaster ever made.”
When he winced I added, “Don’t get me wrong. I love coasters. I’m just explaining why I can transition back to Lonersville so easily.”
He wrapped his hands around his cup. I could see the whites of his knuckles, so I was surprised he didn’t actually break it. He said, “Then I will have to make sure you come to like your new situation so well you cannot stand to slide back anymore. Not even for a day.”
As we stared at each other across the countertop I felt like he’d just made some sort of sacred vow. Especially when Cirilai sent a shot of warmth up my arm. I managed a breathy “Okay,” and realized I was considering climbing on top of that smooth flat surface, knowing that if I did he’d meet me halfway and whatever happened would be Guinness World Record material. Then Cole walked into the room.
I tried not to glare. But dammit! He was like a three-year-old. Always interrupting at the worst possible moment! He sauntered in like he was actually welcome, splayed himself across half the counter, and grinned charmingly. “So. What are we doing?”
Sending your ass to Portugal the first chance we get,
I thought, my inner bitch snapping her fingers in his face as I spoke. Surprisingly, Vayl was the one who kept his temper. He said, “A great deal of Jasmine’s plan tonight rotates on your ability to convince our target that he is a target, but not of our country. That, indeed, we have come to help.”
“We don’t know much about him beyond the fact that his name is FarjAd Daei,” I added. “And that he’s sort of the Martin Luther King Jr. for his people. Which would explain why the Wizard wants him dead.”
“Why is it the good ones always die young?” Cole wondered.
“Generally it is because the bad ones have been in charge far too long and they are reluctant to release power,” Vayl said.
Score another one for the Master of Understatement,
I thought. But I gave Vayl a smile. He had a very European way of sliding up on a subject that I’d only recently come to appreciate. Maybe it had something to do with becoming one of those subjects. I said, “Well, look, I don’t know how long we can keep this guy
alive
. I don’t expect him to stress the retirement system around here, for sure. But we have to, at least, keep him safe until the Wizard is no longer a threat.”
“So has the plan changed?” Cole asked.
“Not much,” I said. “We set up just like for the assassination. We know the event’s not private, so the three of us can enter the café as arranged. Vayl goes to the bathroom early. When FarjAd exits the main room to relieve himself, the two of us follow, bag him without the previously planned fatal blow, hustle him out the window to Asha’s waiting car, and hide him at Zarsa’s house until it’s safe for him to go home.”
“And Zarsa’s okay with this?” Cole asked, slicing a narrow look at Vayl.
“She’s practically frothing at the mouth for a chance to help,” I said.