CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN


We struck a picture as the four of us sat in one booth, silent, composed, and
with dead eyes.


Okay—I was silent, composed, with dead eyes as Jace kept me company. I
gathered that Tray was biding his time until Taryn exploded and she looked like
a ticking time-bomb, literally bustling in her seat.


More than one waitress approached, their lustful eyes on Jace and Tray, only
to keep going. They passed by as Taryn turned her heated glare on full-blast. I
rather wished they could've withstood it and approached. It would've been some
entertainment to our too-silent table.


Our orders were taken and that's when I tuned out the absence of
conversation. I turned towards the window and my eyes saw a future that was
still unfocused. It was there, right there, but I just couldn't see it.


This was my time for strength.


This was when I needed to recuperate and come back fighting, better than
ever.


This was when Marcus would realize that nothing would stomp me down.


I just needed to find that strength, from somewhere inside of me. I pulled
out the short burst of energy, that could've been bottled in a Red Bull. They
got me through seeing my family taken, through shooting a man, and even through
handling what Taryn couldn't admit to herself just yet.


My strength was being used to just think, keep going, and to stay awake.


But I needed more. I needed a new phenomenon inside of me to burst forth
because I needed to stop scrambling after Marcus threw his card. I needed to see
what was coming and I needed to stop it, stop his fist from pounding full-force
on the table.


I was tired of fighting to stay on the table as the quakes from his fist rang
throughout to unsettle my footing.


I was a pawn on his chessboard, but I needed to graduate into a player and no
longer a pawn.


Like I'd said before, I was just tired of being someone's bitch.


And talking about bitches…I looked over, saw the contempt in Taryn's eyes,
and sighed.


"What's your problem?" Taryn snapped at me. She saw a fight and she pounced
on it.


"What's your issue?" I turned the tables. "Someone I love was taken by a
monster that's in love with me. That's my problem, but what's yours?"


Taryn narrowed her eyes. I almost saw her coiling back to strike.


Both the guys seemed to breathe a collective breath and just waited.


Taryn opened her mouth, but nothing came out.


She didn't even know what was going on inside of her. I wasn't surprised, not
fully.


I murmured, softly, as the fight left me and then I realized, the fight had
left me long ago. "You've had three men in your life, right?"


"Excuse me?" Taryn asked.


"You've loved three men and two of them are here while the one is in a
cemetery. That's your problem. You don't know what to do or say, not with both
of them here, so you're just…spinning in circles."


Jace looked out the window.


Tray looked at the diner's interior.


And this was awkward.


"You had to hide in a corner, didn't you." I mused.


Jace cut me off, "Maya."


Taryn could've claimed confusion, but she didn't. No one was confused at the
table. They all knew what my words referenced and Taryn sucked in her
breath.


It could've gone from bad to worse. A few more blades could've been
unsheathed, but I merely said, "This isn't your corner right now. And these two
guys don't care how you act between them. You don't have to fight from crouching
in the corner."


And Taryn was left unbalanced as I turned away and sought the window's
landscape as company. My cold glass friend that would never fail.


The food came and was ate, unspoken. As we left, Taryn pulled me back and
said quietly, calmer, "You're right, but you're not all right."


I waited. I could hear what she had to say.


"My problem's not with you, not really. It's not with Tray. It's with Jace
and it has history. You're bringing it to the forefront by just being here."


"And that's with you to contend with. Not me."


"I know." Taryn nodded, grinned ruefully and rolled her eyes. "Just so you
know, Tray's going to corner you about the whole banquet thing. He doesn't like
getting played and you played him, you played all of us."


"Don't take it personal." I moved ahead. "That's how I survived." But I'd
still be waiting, with my own game-plan for when the infamous badass Evans would
come for his due.


"Yeah." Taryn muttered behind my back, not for my ears. "I'm getting
that."


Jace drove, I rode shotgun, and they were in the back. It was like that as we
breached the first shadows of the trees and until we turned onto a road that I
actually recognized.


I must've made a noise because Jace asked, "What?"


"It's nothing. I just…I'm not as lost as I thought." I said softly.


It was another seventeen miles and Jace turned onto another road which wound
it's way into oblivion until we stopped at another cabin.


"How many do you have?" I asked Jace as everyone piled out, grateful to
stretch and walk.


Jace grinned, but shook his head. "It's not mine. This is an actual safehouse
of the DEA."


My smile wiped clean, but it went unnoticed as Jace unlocked the doors and
led the way into a spacious cabin with an extravagant bricked fireplace, three
couches with furs piled high for blankets, and a spiraling staircase that
circled around the entire living room and ended into an overhang that showed a
spacious view of the horizon through the south wall, pure glass, that overlooked
the sparkling waves of a frozen lake.


"Great view." Taryn remarked, sarcastically. "Way to hide whoever's
hiding."


"It's paneled. You can see out, but no one can see in. Anyone out there is
going to think we're earth-loving, hippie freaks who supply their home with
sonar power."


Tray had been quiet for most the trip, but he asked now, "Is this registered
as being used?"


I waited, that was my question.


"No. I don't trust the company enough, but they'll send agents to check the
place out before they'd think of shipping someone here. We'll scurry out then."
Jace answered as if he'd been waiting for that question.


He had, but not from Tray.


"Well!" Taryn exclaimed, looking already bored, "We should play strip poker
tonight."


"How about in our bedroom?" Tray suggested dryly.


Jace instructed, "You and Taryn can have the upstairs bedroom."


Taryn whirled her gaze to Jace and asked, tongue-in-cheek, "And you guys will
take the one down here?"


Tray looked resigned.


Taryn added, "Want all the privacy you can handle? We could sleep outside.
Seriously, Jace, I think there's enough bedrooms for us all not to shack up,
don't you think?"


"Seriously." I deadpanned, "We're not going to get much sleep. We're down
here because it's better security for you and because, until I figure out where
my family is, I don't have time for senseless activities."


"Sex is never senseless." Taryn said wickedly.


"If my friend dies and I know that I could've saved him while I was having
sex, then yes, it's not only senseless but it's a regretted memory." I clipped
out and unsheathed the guns that Taryn hadn't realized were on me. I enjoyed the
surprise in her gaze.


A knock sounded at the door and Tray jerked in reaction.


Both of them were on edge.


"It's expected." Jace reassured and opened the door to emit Oscar in all his
shining baldness.


"Fool girl!" He said warmly as he greeted me. "The wife still has no problem
with you."


"Just as long as you didn't bring any casseroles." I shot back.


Oscar nodded towards Taryn and Tray, "These my new assignments."


Jace skimmed his eyes over the expectant expressions, but only said, "Let's
go out back."


They moved through the kitchen and I stayed.


"Maya." Jace called and I followed behind, but I grabbed a gun. What a
lifestyle this was, you couldn't step onto a back porch in the near dead of
winter without a weapon.


I heard Taryn's naked sigh just as the door clicked shut behind me.


Jace and Oscar didn't seem to feel the cold, but then again, neither did I. I
did enjoy the sparkling moonlight that sparked every diamond in the snow that
had fallen in our absence. It was a morning sky, but the moonlight still shone
brightly. The snow, covered in purple and pink lay replete as the rising sun and
falling moon battled it out.


It wasn't an uncommon scene, but it always left someone with an emotion that
another world had just invaded onto the normal routine. Something was out of
place and yet, the routine was too scientific to actually ever be out of
place.


Oscar brought my attention back when he teased, "Remember when you were the
one sent to your bedroom?"


"I feel honored to be included." I only said.


"You shouldn't." Jace remarked. "You find anything?"


Oscar grunted and shook his head. "No. They'd been there, but they moved
on."


I'd been right.


They both looked at me and asked, "You got any other idea for a second
option?"


"I can think about it, but…" I was hesitant to say it, but it had to be done.
"Marcus likes to win, at any cost, so he'd abandon any 'rule' for the game if he
thought I might figure it out. And I did, so…"


"So he probably abandoned it?" Oscar murmured. "Which means we're at square
one."


"Okay." Jace paced and thought. He thought hard because he ordered, briskly,
"If Marcus is pulling in a shipment, holding Maya's man, and expecting to be
holding Taryn, then…what? He's gotta have extra security for that? It's two
extra operations that he wouldn't be staffed for…where's he getting the workers?
Has Scott checked in with anything? What about Rafe?"


Oscar shook his head.


And I got a window into Jace's mind.


"What about Carls? Coolay?"


Oscar shook his head.


"Our agents aren't dead, are they?" Jace mused briefly.


Oscar froze. It was a hit too close to the heart, but Jace skipped over
it.


"No. We'd know. There's got to be something else, someone else…have you made
any headway in the woods?"


Oscar shook his head. "And I've been using those snow owls that you
suggested, but I'm not getting anything. It's like the compound doesn't
exist."


"Or…" Jace glanced at me. "It's underground."


"What?"


"Maybe it really doesn't exist, above ground? Maybe it's underground? Maybe a
mine or something?"


Oscar nodded, "I'll work that angle."


Jace grinned, briefly, absently grabbed at a piece of rock and threw it in
the air, "Maybe you could use some of that Hoodoo. You could work a spell? Make
Mallon mess up."


Oscar smiled and bobbed his head. "He did."


Jace and I both looked at him.


He nodded towards me, "He let her go."


"Go do some work for me, Baldness." Jace instructed.


Oscar grinned and left around the house.


I remarked, as I turned back towards the lake, "He never let me go. I
left."


"Exactly." Jace said. "You left. You bested him. You're the first to do that,
Maya, and that tells me that you can do this. You can think ahead of him. That's
what I need you to do."


"What about you?" I asked, tiredly. I was tired of getting the pressure, full
blast. "You knew Galverson. Marcus is his son."


"But that's my point." Jace faced me squarely. "He doesn't work like Sal. He
doesn't think like Sal. You're the one who can 'decode' him if anyone can."


"You've bested him too." I said softly. "You got in and you took me away. You
won."


"Which doesn't help me, because, according to my sources, Mallon hadn't been
taking me seriously. He'll take me serious now." Jace clipped out. I saw the
flash of fury and something clicked inside of me.


Belatedly, I asked, breathless, "What aren't you telling me?" I saw it
instantly and cursed why I hadn't seen it before, but it was prominent and
evident to my naked eye.


Jace looked me square in the eyes and lied, "Nothing. What are you talking
about?"


"You're lying." I proclaimed softly. "And I know that you're lying."


"What I'm not telling you is…," He hesitated, but then said, raw, "is what I
want more than anything. And I can't tell you until the end."


The air shifted. The moon disappeared. The senseless ex chatter ceased and
even Oscar's overpowering presence dissipated.


It was Jace and me, alone among the purple and pink glittering diamonds in
the snowbanks.


"Why can't you tell me now?" I whispered.


Jace sighed a ragged breath and it sounded like it tore out of him. He shook
his head and murmured, coarse, "It's not…it's not anything to do with this case,
but…it's too much, Maya. I just can't, not yet." He moved to sit on a
snow-packed bench.


I sat beside him and said, "My first friend was Lily. And my second friend
was Cherry. She was already pregnant, but I got to be a part of Gray's life.
I'll always be indebted to her. And Lily…I gave her freedom. Some people think
I'm a little wise and I've come to notice that there's a few things that drive a
person. Purpose. Relationships. And hope. I got all three when I saw Gray and
that was only in a picture."


Jace didn't say anything, but he was listening.


"My life was changing. Here was this girl who was pregnant with my brother's
kid and he gave her money for an abortion and…there was just so much fighting,
but…I didn't know what would happen. I didn't think I'd even like the kid, but I
saw a picture and that was all it took. Just one picture and everything was
wiped away. I'm not a mother, but I can only imagine what the clarity is like if
I already feel it as an aunt."


Jace smiled, sadly, into the iridescent clearness of our morning, "There's
another thing that drives a person. Revenge."


"But that's purpose and what happens when it's resolved?" I asked.


Jace stared down at me. Too close for our previous intimacy to withstand.


"There's nothing." I murmured. "It's just an empty void." I stood and Jace
leaned back to hold my gaze. I said, withstanding his piercing greys, "Your
revenge isn't with Marcus or even with Lily, since she's his daughter. It's with
Sal, himself, and you already wreaked your havoc. He's dead." I clipped out.
"You killed him."


"I killed him prematurely." Jace said smoothly. "I killed him because he was
about to kill one of mine."


"He's dead."


"But what I want isn't." Jace said firmly.


The winds shifted back and I asked, remarkably, "What is this?"


Jace glanced away.


"What's going on because something is here, between us." I added.


"Lies. Subterfuge. Covert operations. There's a lot between us that you don't
even realize." Jace said, cheekily.


"Are you smug about this?"


Jace said nothing. The small smirk, the acting smirk, vanished, but he threw
back, "Are you suddenly self-righteous?"


"What?" I nearly gasped.


"I don't have time for this." Jace moved to push me away, but I counted and
swiftly blocked him. I leaned close and nearly whispered as I prophesied,
"There's truth to proclaim and there's sin to commit."


My eyes fell flat. "Which one are you?"


Jace didn't respond, but I didn't expect him to. If he had, it would've been
blistering and my blade probably would've been produced.


We were beyond that.


Jace stood, slowly, and moved me back so he could.


He said, softly, "Don't come at me like I'm your brother who needs to be told
how many sins he's committed. I'm not your brother, Maya. I'm not someone for
you to see through and rein in. You might've been pulled in for a last battle,
but this has been my war."


"So tell me what the war's really about."


"Why should I? It's my war, but it's not what Marcus fights for. Like I said,
this is mine. You'll find out sooner than later, anyways."


He was about to move back inside and this fragile time would be shattered.
Just as he stepped around, I turned and called out, halting him, "There's a
painter who used to be famous for making these dull portraits of sand, dirt,
gravel, whatever. People would look at them and just see stupid, senseless,
dirt. And the painter would churn out another picture of the same thing, but the
dirt would be moved around a little. A lot of critics said that she should, at
least, make the gravel pretty and interesting to the human eye."


Jace waited.


I hoped he heard what I wanted him to hear, "What they didn't know was that
all those paintings were actually a test to the viewer. You see, every picture
that she made, it was a path, a little section of a path that led to this
ultimate breathtaking sunset where you could see the angels in the sunbeam. But
most of the viewers grew bored with what seemed dull and they left. Only a few
finished the 'path' and saw the final destination. After that, all the critics
changed their minds. They took back all their judging words and proclaimed what
a genius the artist was, but the it wasn't ever about the artist. It was a
proclamation for who took the journey. The artist was just showing the way."


Jace grimaced, but said, "So you're telling me that for…what?, I shouldn't
get caught up in my personal mission to miss the end?"


"No." I said with genuineness. "I'm telling you to not miss what you might be
missing when you're only seeing your revenge, for whatever it is."


Jace shook his head, growing impatient.


I pushed forth, "There might be an ending that you haven't foreseen. Don't
miss it when it happens!"


Jace sighed, reached for the door handle, and remarked, "You should come in.
It's cold out."


There were no words about the rest of the evening. No words about the past
mission. It was just me, left with my heartfelt urgency that was felt, but not
understood. And the sunlight had finally battled and won it's seemingly
unnatural struggle.


How'd I know about that artist?


I slumped down and murmured, to myself and the air, "Munsinger told me about
her."


She'd been his grandmother.