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I took a pen and scrawled a little note on a piece of music paper, and folded it. I placed it on the pillow by her head. I gazed one last time at my sleeping vixen, and with herculean fortitude, turned away from her and walked out the door.
When the latch of the door settled, I leaned back on it and sighed.
“Jesus Alastair,” a familiar voice whispered. “Are you okay?”
Lea was walking down the hall in her jeans and what looked like one of Callum’s t-shirts.
“I was just about to look for you,” I said, opening my eyes.
I looked at Lea. Callum’s little assassin lover with fresh eyes. She was the same height as Jubilee. They had the same square jaw, almond eyes. Though Lea’s eyes were chocolate brown, not hazel like my lioness, the thick black limbal ring was the same.
It was so obvious now that there was a kinship there. Were we all too stupid or blind to have seen it?
“She’s your cousin.” I blurted out. Maybe I should have said it more gently. But I have come to know Lea well now. She was like any of us men. Gentle wasn’t a communication style that she appreciated.
“Do what now?” she said, the American accent is like a razor to my brain.
“Jubilee,” I said her name as one would say a prayer. Herfakename, I reminded myself. But it had been a name everyone knew her by, therefore worth the reverence. “Her real name was… is… Rose Marie Legaspi. Her father was Leopold Bonifacio. Your uncle.”
Lea crossed her arms in front of her and cocked out her hip. She looked skeptical.
“Brett Bradley is Jericho Vasiliev,” I whispered. “A former spy, with ties to the Russian crime family. He worked in Pacific Command.” I had to make this brief. I had to go. I had calls to make, a plane to catch. “He met your uncle and worked with him. Promised him he’d take care of his little girl and her cousins if anything happened to him.”
“Okay.” Lea’s brows were knitted as if everything I had said was complete nonsense. Now that I said all of these things together, it was certainly improbable. “This is all just so conveniently Brett-like. I don’t believe it. Where’s the proof?”
I brought the strand of wavy hair to my lips. Then my nose. It still had her scent.
Then I held it out to Lea.
“Test it against yours.” She took it, her face a little disgusted.
“What the…?” she whispered. “What kind of weird shit are you into, Alastair?”
She clutched the hair between her thumb and forefinger like it was diseased and studied me.
“If she is my cousin—“
”—She is.“ I interrupted.
“Ifshe is,“ she said again. “Then we are going to need to talk. Whatever weird shit is going on, you can’t do that to my family.”
“I’m going to marry her,” I said, flatly.
Lea was stunned into silence.
“I’m going to marry her,” I said again, wishing my voice was steadier, but everything was moving so fast. And my desire for it was coursing through my veins. “So test it. Do it soon.”
I turned to walk away.
“And where will you be?” She called after me.
“In New York.” I shrugged. “Off the books. This is a… vacation for me.”
“Dios ko.“ She swore under her breath.My God.“And what will you do on your vacation?”
“Pick a fight.” I grinned. “With the bratva.”
She quirked a brow. If she was surprised, she didn’t show it.
