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“Like I need the reminder you’re more of an assassin than anything the developers of Assassin’s Creed could come up with.”
Snickering, I shoved him in the side then picked up another paper.
Boston Congresswoman claims terrorists are behind recent influx of headlines that are ‘destabilizing the nation.’
“How right she is,” I crooned, skewering her in the face with my fingernail.
“How many more reveals?”
“At least ten.”
“On top of these six?”
“Yup. Vana’s helped me stagger them. We’re keeping the cops plenty busy, and if the politicians start whining about these privacy infractions being a terrorist attack, then that’s where the alphabets will shift their focus.”
“A job well done?”
“Uh huh. Aoife hasn’t heard from her dad?”
“Finn didn’t say anything to indicate Davidson had been in touch. That he isn’t photographed on any of the front pages is telling in itself.”
“He’s keeping his head down,” I agreed. “Smart man.”
“Ish. He dumped Aoife for a chance at the White House. That was a dumb move.”
“Men rarely appreciate something until they’ve lost it. He was cut up about meeting with me and not her.”
He cupped my shoulder. “It’s between them. Don’t meddle.”
I arched a brow at him. “Who said I was going to meddle?”
“I can hear it in your voice.”
I sniffed.
“That only confirms it,” he retorted. “Anyway, the car will be here in five. Are you good to go?”
Though I nodded, I released a yawn. We’d arrived late last night and though our alarm call had been for ten AM, my circadian rhythms didn’t agree.
Dumping the paper I’d been reading on the dinner table, I stretched. “I’ll be glad when this is over with.”
He curved an arm around my waist and I let him haul me into him. “It’s a good thing you’re doing.”
“Being Minnie’s target practice?”
“Yeah. She needs someone to blame, and she can’t blame Ovianar yet even if, in the grand scheme of things, Minerva knows she was living on borrowed time.”
“How do you always cut to the heart of the matter?” I grumbled, turning away from the windows that showed London’s cityscape to bury my face in his chest.
“Because neither of us appreciates bullshit?”
“Katina speaks fluent bullshit.”
“We’ll cure her of it.”
“Nah. It’s a good skill to have in this fucked-up world we live in. Imagine her in PR?”
He whistled under his breath. “You make a good argument.”
