And he had a really nice smile…

No! Don’t look at his smile, Kori! I couldn’t afford to like Ian Holt, because then I’d feel guilty for damning him to a life of crime and violence, and once I let myself feel guilty for one horrible thing I’d been forced to do, all the others would crash down and bury me in regret for a lifetime of necessary evils. Unrelenting guilt was a crippling blow to any assassin, and one I had no plans to suffer.

Ian blinked, and his eyes narrowed. He was studying me again, and I had to squelch the urge to flinch away from his assessment. “You know, Tower might think he’s scary, with his gun-toting guards and over-the-top security system, but I know the truth.”

“And what’s that?” Why did my voice sound so…frail?

“You’re the most dangerous weapon he has, armed with nothing but the tongue in your mouth. And what a nice mouth it is.”

Eight

Ian

“I…” Kori sputtered, blinking at me like the day was suddenly glaringly bright, leaving her exposed, and I realized that the only thing I enjoyed more than making her spew expletives was leaving her speechless. “What the hell does that mean?” she finally demanded, and I frowned. In my experience, most women love to hear how pretty they are and I’d never once pissed one off by saying so.

“It means exactly what I said. And by the way, the proper response to a compliment is ‘thank you.’”

Her scowl was unrelenting. “You’re not supposed to be complimenting me!”

“I’m not supposed to…?” My frown deepened, and my confusion only grew.

Kori squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, but when she met my gaze again, she still looked mad, for no reason I could understand. “I mean…you don’t have to do that. It’s not necessary.”

“Necessary for what?” I felt like we were suddenly speaking different languages, and hers was nonsense.

Kori glared at me through narrowed eyes. “This is all a game to you, isn’t it?” she demanded, then rushed on before I could answer. “You better start taking this seriously, Ian, because Jake never loses and I don’t like games.”

“That’s unfortunate, because you play them well.” I snatched a handful of napkins from a pretzel vendor as we passed on the sidewalk and handed one to her, then wiped the bald man’s blood from my hands. One of my knuckles had split open, but I couldn’t have left enough of my blood behind to be of any use to someone else.

“I’m not playing,” she snapped, swiping at the blood on her own fingers without ever slowing her step. “I’m telling you one fucking truth after another, most of which I’ll probably get in serious trouble for, and you’re treating me like some bimbo who can’t see past her own reflection.”

I stared at her, almost as fascinated as I was confused. “How the hell did you manage to twist my compliment into an insult? I think that qualifies as some kind of special skill.”

“We obviously disagree on what qualifies as skill.”

I stopped, and she went several more steps before turning to frown at me. “I don’t understand you.”

“You don’t have to understand me.”

“I do, though.” I wanted to understand her worse than I’d ever wanted to understand anyone in my life, and I couldn’t quite convince myself that my motivation was purely professional. Yes, the better I understood her, the easier it would be to use her to get to her sister. But the more time I spent with Kori, the harder it was to remember that she even had a sister, much less what I’d come into Tower’s territory to do. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time together over the next few days, and I’d like to know where the land mines are buried before I step on the next one.”

“I think your best bet is steel-toed boots.”

I laughed out loud at the thought of boots—any boots—protecting someone from a land mine. Even a metaphorical land mine. Then I wondered again why her landscape was so riddled with them. “Why are you telling me things that could get you in trouble?”

“Because they’re…true.” She shrugged, and her frown deepened as she searched for more of an answer.

“And you like the truth?” Interesting, for a syndicate employee.

“I’d call it more admiration than true enjoyment, but yeah.” Kori frowned and dropped her used tissue in a trash can on the corner. “I guess you could say I like the truth.”

“Why?” Every time I thought I was close to figuring her out, she said something that threw me for another loop, and though I’d given up trying to anticipate the dips and twists in the conversations, I couldn’t help loving the ride.

“Why do I like the truth?” she asked, and I nodded. “I don’t know. Because it’s the truth. Why does anyone like anything? Why do you like coffee?” she demanded, when I glanced into a coffee shop while we waited for the crosswalk light to change.

“Because it wakes me up, it’s warm in my hands and it tastes good. Your turn. Why do you like the truth?”

“I don’t know how to answer that.” And from the stubborn set of her jaw, I could see she didn’t even want to try.

“Yes, you do. You’re smarter than you think you are, Kori.”

“How the hell would you know that?”

“Because I’m smarter than you think I am, too.” I glanced at the crowd gathered around us, waiting for the light, then nodded toward the coffee shop and was relieved when she actually followed me to a rectangle of shade beneath its awning. “Why do you like the truth? Dig deeper.”