Page 57 of Gates of Tartarus

“Carolina Reaper. Try this.”

“Mmmm. Coffee?”

“Yup.”

“Maybe? In a pinch?”

Jonah makes notes in a little book in front of him as I talk, nodding along with what I’m saying. “And the last two?”

“Lemon? Yes, but not as sharp as the grapefruit. And... this is like astringent or something? Some kind of cleaning product? Purell-ish almost?”

“Yeah. How’s that?”

“Good. Not as good as the citrus, but good.”

“Well, it gives me something to work on…”

“What’s the plan, then? With these?”

“I want to... I’m not sure how it would work. But maybe make you a perfume, or body spray, or a satchel or something that, if you feel like you’re losing your grip and one of us isn’t there, it would be like an emergency pull lever. You could smell it and it would bring you back long enough to get your walls up.”

“Jonah... that’s... that’s incredibly thoughtful of you…” I begin, slightly taken aback. “How did you eventhinkof this? When have you had the time?”

Jonah looks at me for a long moment, through incredibly serious eyes, before shrugging and looking away. “You make time for the things that matter to you. And I think about... it... all the time.”

The rest of the guys pile in noisily, interrupting the moment, but there is a strangeness in the air between Jonah and me that wasn’t there before. He flicks his dark eyes back to mine, and we stay like that, lost in our own thoughts, until Smith calls us to attention.

Blood and Bone

Tuesday, 13 November – Kailani

We’re all prickly as hell right now. The dinner with Tennireef had been next to pointless, with him expertly dodging every time I’d gently led him towards a topic. The guy was as slippery as an eel, and an expert at public relations, so it wasn’t surprising that I didn’t get more information out of him, just frustrating. That wasn’t to say I gotnothing, passing the team a list of names and connections Tennireef had dropped very openly. He was almost gleeful about his meetings the following week in D.C. with Gomez, having the air of someone who has all of his pieces falling into place. In the end, though, I was left feeling like I’d been played, though I wasn’t quite sure how yet.

The unexpected downside to Friday’s dinner, other than the serpent’s kiss at the end, was the news coverage. I have no idea why, other than the fact that the dude was most housewives’ wet dream, but even entertainment rags had picked up the story, and there were photos of him and me all over the place. Even Gemma, who knew that there was nothing between us, had sucked air in through her teeth in surprise when she saw the photos.

“These are… uh... you’re looking very chummy there, kid,” she said critically, and I’d groaned in response.

“I know! I just don’t know how!” I replied, frustrated, staring at photos that showed a much different story than the reality of the situation. “How did they make it look so… scandalous! I spent the entire evening thinking about injuring myself. Christ! And Madds says they’re going to start digging soon.”

Gemma frowned, worried. “What could they find about you?”

I’d shrugged in reply. “There’s not much. I have no social media, no court records or anything. All my information from childhoodshouldbe sealed, but Tennireef got his hands on it, so other people probably will too.”

We’d looked at each other with grim expressions. “You ready for that?” she asked, and I’d shaken my head, shoulders tense.

“Don’t really have a choice,” I replied. “Just stupid that we didn’t think this through.”

She’d gripped my hand in silence, not much she could say. There was nothing bad in my background, nothing salacious... it was just painful. And if it all was exposed, the spin the press would put on it... I almost couldn’t bear to think of it.

Even now, several days later, sitting and waiting for our day to begin, there’s a sick feeling churning in my stomach, like I’m waiting for an axe to fall. I thought the press coverage would fade away, but, if anything, the impromptu interview Tennireef had given briefly Sunday morning from D.C. had lit a fire under the parasites, sending them into a writhing frenzy of delight over the thought of a new Kennedy-esque couple to fawn over – a second coming of Camelot, as it were. He hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true – not exactly – just that he’d invited a colleague out to dinner. But he’d said it in such a way, and with a little wink, that the reporters were salivating.

“Will you be seeing Ms. Reed again?” they’d called out to him as he went up the steps to the Capitol. He’d ignored every other question being asked about policies and the proceedings being held that day, but paused for that one, almost as if against his will, and said, “What was that?”

The reporter, clearly delighted to be getting focused facetime from the senator, repeated deferentially, “I was just wondering if you’d be seeing Ms. Reed again anytime soon,” and the rest of the throng around him quieted, waiting to hear his answer.

“Oh,” replied Tennireef with an almost wistful smile. “If she’ll agree to it. But as I’ve said before, we’re just friends of course.”

“Friends who go to dinner?” asked another reporter cheekily. “You don’t have many… friends... you take out to a five-star restaurant.”

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