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That wasn’t quite an order, though it was more than a suggestion. Turned out she wasn’t good for anything anyway, not in the kitchen. She slid into the dinette opposite H. What the hell was she doing there? These men knew each other. They were family. Whether they were fighting or not. They had a connection, a way of communicating. Tolerated each other, were familiar with their strengths and weaknesses.
Daire went to retrieve whatever he needed from the fridge and pantry. He had purpose. She was at a loose end without so much as a newspaper to read.
“What are you looking for?” she asked. H didn’t lower the paper. Puffing out her cheeks, his preference for keeping her in the dark tested her patience. She released her breath in a single rush. “I think we should call him out.”
Daire glanced over his shoulder, but she didn’t look at him. She waited for H to lower his newspaper. Just as expected, his frown was fierce.
“Who?”
“You know who,” she said, laying a hand on the table. “He’s the problem, right? One man. We can take one man.”
“I agree,” Daire said, much to her surprise.
He didn’t notice her incredulity, his focus was on H, his expression just as intent as the older man’s.
When she relaxed, Tess remained steadfast, waiting for H’s response.
“Neither of you know what you’re talking about,” H said. “We are not going to call him out.” He pinned her under his scrutiny. “How do you suggest we call him out? You don’t have a damn clue—”
“He hates you, he hates me,” she said. “You pretty much told me you’re going to be dead soon. That leaves me the only target.”
“I told you Daire has orders, he will protect you.”
“I don’t want his protection,” she said, disgusted by the idea. “I don’t want to live life cowering anymore. You were happy for me and mom to live that way. You and Daire lost your home when everything went pear-shaped with Olympus. At least you had one to begin with. I have never known what it is to stay in one place more than a few months at a time—”
“Tess—”
“I don’t expect your sympathy,” she said, holding up a hand, recalling how he’d responded to Daire’s assertion of what he’d been through. “I’m telling you, I’m done. I’m through.”
“You do not get to dictate strategy,” H said in a low growl that was probably supposed to intimidate her into submission.
Yep. That didn’t work. “If anyone else has a better plan, I’m all ears,” she said, never blinking. “But I am entitled to a say. If I don’t get that here, I’ll go.”
“On your own?” H sneered.
“On my own,” she said, strengthening her shoulders. “I’ll die fighting if that’s what it takes. Better that than living as a coward.”
She jumped when the pan clattered onto the stove and Daire turned suddenly. Hovering at the end of the table, he waited for…? What? Was it his intention to defend his superior? Except she wasn’t the one under his keen focus.
H exhaled and aimed his words at Daire. “Z has allies. If we act rashly, he will get the upper hand. We are the only ones capable of taking him down.”
“Let me go find him,” Daire said. “Just me.”
H shook his head.
“If you wanted to take Z out,” she said, “why didn’t you do it a year ago?”
Daire returned to the stove.
“He’s not talking about Z,” H said.
More confusion and secrets. She needed to understand this from the beginning.
“What happened?” she asked, clinging to her composure. “Why did Olympus break down?”
Neither man said anything. Goddamnit, she wanted to scream. She should just leave them to their madness. To hell with them both.
“There was a conspiracy to assassinate Z,” Daire said, breaking the silence. “Operation Zulu.”
