Free Bone Deep by Lea Griffith Page B

future,” Grant said as he tipped up his ever-present cowboy hat. He rubbed his chin as he glanced at Dmitry with a raised eyebrow. “I saved a life here tonight. I’m a goddamned hero.”
    “You’re the reason Trident always knows where we’ll be,” she forced from clenched teeth.
    Grant smiled. “No, that’s your sisters’ fault. I’m the one,” he pointed at himself, “who’s always pulling y’all’s assess out of scrapes. Don’t forget who I am darlin’. I’m everywhere.”
    She shrugged her bag on. “I’ll be off then. You’ve got friends, Asinimov. Goody for you.”
    Grant smiled. Dmitry stood.
    “Not without me,” Dmitry said firmly.
    She rolled her eyes.
    “You do that when you’re angry or frustrated. Roll your eyes. It’s the small tells that give the most vivid picture. You anger easily but you don’t lose control. It speaks to your strength,” Dmitry relayed in a low, almost cajoling tone.
    She didn’t say anything.
    “But you are not leaving without me,” he finished. “You owe me answers and I’ll have them.”
    He meant what he was saying and it floored her.
    “Well now, I didn’t think I’d ever see the day that one was rendered mute,” Grant said with a laugh. Then he laughed harder. “Wait, just kidding. Bone never says anything. It’s Blade that’s always…well, no…she’s pretty fucking quiet too. It’s kinda eerie.”
    Bone turned to Grant and did something she’d never done before—she lifted her middle finger in the air. She’d seen it done in movies and those few and far between. He just guffawed harder but the anger she expected didn’t materialize.
    Instead she found herself smiling. She only smiled when she killed.
    Their immediate silence had the smile disappearing.
    “There’s another thing I never thought I’d see,” Grant murmured.
    She didn’t understand. Grant had seen her kill before. He’d seen her smile.
    “Her true smile is heartbreaking, da ?” Dmitry intoned.
    She had no frame of reference for the byplay so she walked away from them, into the cold night, searching for her hard center. And because they wouldn’t stop laughing behind her, she raised both hands in the air and pointed skyward with her middle fingers.
    She kept walking, the sound of their laughter following, and another smile dogging her lips.

Chapter Five
    It had been a hell of a twenty-four hour period. Grant had secured them passage on a FedEx cargo plane into Heathrow from St. Petersburg. From there they’d hopped onto Trident’s jet and entered U.S. airspace.
    Dmitry tossed back a shot of bourbon and watched his quarry sleep. She sat straight up, one hand flattened on her thigh, the other holding tight to a brown leather messenger bag. Her head pressed into the seatback and he wondered how the hell anyone could find rest in that position. Even in sleep the woman was vigilant.
    He had seen her in all of her killing glory now—watched her dispense death and fight like a demon. The way she utilized her body to generate force the equivalent of a sledgehammer was nothing short of awe inspiring. No woman as small as she—hell, no man full grown—should have the ability to wrench a neck so hard it crushed everything inside, leaving the head hanging by skin.
    It was abhorrent. It was power in its most elevated form. She’d been magnificently trained, was truly a weapon all on her own. She was the ultimate death bringer and soul stealer but she was still a woman who’d suffered under a madman. And the more he was around her, the more he saw the small glimpses of that woman.
    He poured another shot of bourbon and drank it down. The burn didn’t cauterize the rawness of the emotions she roused in him. He wanted to be angry at her. Before her, tapping into his rage had been easy. Now, it wasn’t.
    “She’s a killer, Asinimov,” Grant had reminded him as he cleaned and bandaged Dmitry’s wound. It was an in and out through the shoulder and he’d have to have it