How to Shield an Assassin Read online

  Remi scooted out from her hole and came closer, although she didn’t touch him. Her eyes were wide, penetrating in a way he’d never seen from a child’s face before. “That’s why?”

  “Why did you think I took you in?” he asked softly.

  “I don’t know. I was just happy you did.”

  Ari blew out a low breath and kicked himself for not explaining things better to her before. “Remi, this world is a shitty, shitty place. I looked at you and saw me, all those years ago. I was afraid, if I didn’t take you in, that you wouldn’t survive it. That you’d not be given the chance. And I was maybe—just a little, mind you—but maybe a bit lonely.”

  There was that smile. When Remi was happy, her smile could light up the room. “I can stay with you forever and ever, if you want.”

  Tears burned in his eyes. “Forever and ever? Wow, that’s an amazing offer. You know, I might take you up on that. Tonight, though, how about we bunk together? Maybe that will keep the nightmare from coming back.”

  She nodded, and he lifted the burrito wrapped child into his arms. Remi’s grip on his shirt nearly strangled him. It was odd, actually, now that he thought of it. She never initiated contact, but if he reached for her first, she’d cling to him like an octopus. Surely that would ease as she found her rhythm with him.

  Ari shut her light off on the way back to his room and they snuggled into his bed, Remi still clinging to him. Ari didn’t think he’d be able to sleep with her doing so, but he didn’t breathe a word of that to her. He could go without a few hours of sleep, that wasn’t a big deal. The nightmare worried him. The clinginess worried him. Hell, all of this worried him. But Ari didn’t know what to do aside from what he was already doing—giving her time, patience, and steady attention. Hoping she’d work through it.

  Right then, he decided to not take any jobs for a month or so. Give them both a chance to get to know each other better. And even then, he’d take day jobs, quick in and outs until she got settled.

  This parenting thing was harder than it looked.

  The nightmares didn’t return that night. Or the next. Ari took that as a good sign, or would have, if Remi hadn’t invaded his bed. Right now, that was fine, but she’d need to learn to sleep in her own at some point.

  Ari didn’t think he’d have to kick her out anytime soon. For one thing, he was very, very single. Ari wasn’t the type to have one-night stands—he literally couldn’t. It took a great deal of trust to let someone else into his personal space. It had taken a few years with Ivan to get really comfortable with the man. Kyou he’d known as a kid, so that hadn’t been as hard. Remi, of course, was a no brainer. But picking someone up at a bar or a club? Flat out. No way in hell could he relax enough with a stranger to have sex. Most of his dates involved getting close to a target.

  He was the type of person who needed to date and really get to know someone before he could let his guard down. Hard enough to do as an assassin. As a single father as well? If Ari hadn’t already been resigned to going it alone, he’d have made the choice the day he got Remi. It wasn’t worth the possible danger to her to bring some stranger in. Ari would just have to make do with late night showers.

  After four days of having her, Ari felt tired of winging it. He needed a game plan. He had to figure out how to tell Ivan and Kyou he now had a daughter. He had to figure out school for her—and that alone threatened to give him a migraine. Regular school meant she needed a regular address. Ari had homes in Seattle, Halifax, Italy, and London. The one they were currently in was a rental; he’d move out of it as soon as he figured out where to go. Maybe the east coast? Ivan had a house somewhere in North Carolina. Kyou was in New York, not too far off. If shit really hit the fan, it might be better to have his friends nearby.

  Although how to tell them…that was the kicker.

  On autopilot, he put bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast on two plates and carried them to the bar. Remi hopped up onto the bar stool and gave him a shy smile.

  “Morning, gattina. Eat quick, we’ve got some serious decisions to make today.”

  She dug into the eggs obediently. “Like what?”

  “Well, like school. No way in hell can I homeschool you, I barely passed high school as it was. In order for school to happen, we need to figure out an address. Your Uncle Luca says the paperwork for our new identities are almost done. I want to be in our new place when it arrives so we can get the ball rolling.”

  Remi nodded, following, chewing on bacon. “So where are we going?”

  “Well, now, here’s the thing. I’ve got two really good friends I do jobs with. And I haven’t told them about you yet, but I figure I will pretty soon. One of them lives in New York, the other one in North Carolina at the moment. The one in North Carolina got hurt a few days ago, so he’s resting. I think when he’s well, I want the two of you to meet. New York’s a bit too congested for me, I don’t like staying there for long.” And the crime rate was pretty insane. “I’m leaning toward North Carolina.”

  Remi looked up at him through her lashes, biting her bottom lip. “You’re still going to train me, right?”

  “What? Yeah, of course. I just can’t homeschool you. Everything else I can do.” Ari focused on his own breakfast for a few minutes before it got cold. He was anxious to move now that he had a good idea of what to do. House hunting and picking out a good school would eat up several days at least. Once they had their identities, he’d need to find a doctor too, because apparently shots were a serious business with schools. The research he’d done yesterday about what all was required to get a child enrolled in school was just ridiculous.

  Glancing over, he saw that half of her plate was still full. Remi had slowed down considerably, mostly pushing her eggs around the plate with a fork. “You done?”

  For some reason she flinched, eyes turning bright with unshed tears. The expression was made worse because her eye wasn’t healed yet, and the tears made it look fresh. “I can finish it.”

  Why was she…shit. She was cowering like she expected a solid slap in the face. “Whoa, gattina, calm down. If you’re full, you’re full. It’s fine, you don’t have to finish.”

  Remi took in a deep breath sounding like a half-sob, still staring at him as if judging his sincerity on this. Ari wished he’d done more to her stepfather than put two bullets into that son of a bitch. No kid should be this scared about finishing a plate. Broadcasting every movement, he leaned in and hugged her around the shoulders, not relaxing until she wrapped both arms around him too. Okay, that was better. She always calmed down a little once he hugged her.

  “Next time, you fill your own plate, yeah? That way you can judge how much you want.”

  She nodded against his shirt but didn’t utter a peep.

  Ari let his head drop back, staring blindly at the ceiling. He had this. He really did. Just one issue at a time. “How about we do dishes, then sit in front of the computer for a while and house hunt?”

  Remi lifted her face a whole millimeter to answer him. “It’s really fine if I don’t finish?”

  “Forcing yourself to finish means you’re overeating and not listening to your body. If you’re not listening to your body, you can make yourself sick. Black Widow doesn’t make herself sick, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Then no forcing yourself. Bene?”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Good, or okay.”

  “Bene,” she answered, sounding firmer now.

  “That’s my girl.” Ari let go of her and picked up both of their plates, heading for the sink. “Get the laptop and plug it in. House hunting takes a while. And we have to figure out which town we’ll be in. I want a good school for you.”

  Remi paused in the kitchen doorway, watching him carefully. “Can I do ballet?”

  Hands covered in soap and water, he blinked at her. Where had this even come from? “Ballet?”

  She wrapped both arms around her chest, uncertain, but gamely explained. “Black Widow does ballet.”

  “Ah.” Ari thought about it. Ballet developed core strength, flexibility, and muscle mass which was all good for MMA fighting. “Sure. We’ll look up ballet studios too.”

  Beaming at him, she darted in for a thigh hug. “Thanks, Ari.”

  “You’re welcome, gattina.” It really meant that much to her? Ari still hadn’t figured out how much of her obsession with Black Widow was hero worship and how much of it was her fixation on wanting to be strong enough to protect herself. At this point, it might not even matter. “You remember the password for the laptop?”

  “Malvagio.”

  “Right.” Ari washed the last dish and put it on the rack to dry. Should he even bother packing up the utensils and kitchen stuff? Or just their personal gear? Let the next occupants deal with whatever he’d left behind.

  Carrying the laptop back in, Remi asked, “Was Malvagio your old name?”

  “What, before I took on Benelli? No, Malvagio is my street name. Kinda like a code name.”

  “Like Black Widow?”

  “Exactly like that.” Ari sat on the stool, putting Remi up on his knee so she could see the laptop too. Since she was still curiously looking up at him, he further explained, “You don’t want to give people your real name. Makes it easy for them to find you. And it’s a pain in the ass to create a new identity on the fly. So most people go by a street name, or some sort of nickname, to avoid that. There’s some exceptions—mercenaries tend to just use their real name. But they’re hired for retrievals and quick jobs, they’re not normally breaking laws. So people aren’t really after them much. One of my friends uses his real name half the time, but he’s an adrenaline junkie. He finds it funny when people come after him. Me, I go by nickname ’cause I’m paranoid
.”

  “What’s it mean, though?”

  “It’s Italian for ‘wicked.’” Ari had been all of nineteen when he’d come up with it. There were days he second-guessed the decision but it was too late now. Everyone knew him by that handle. “We should probably think up a code name for you, too. Or do you want to be called Widow?”

  Remi bounced once in place, for a moment forgetting her normal caution as excitement took over. “Widow would be lit!”

  “Then Widow it is.” Ari laid a personal bet with himself whether she’d regret that in her twenties. He’d be there to rub it in, regardless. “Alright, Widow. Aside from a ballet studio, and a good school, what else does our new home need to have?”

  3

  The move had been…interesting. Interesting about covered it. Ari bought a house in a small town in North Carolina, one town over from where Ivan lived. He’d still not found the right timing to tell either Kyou or Ivan about Remi. Luca had given him such grief, he’d not found the emotional strength to battle it out with the other men. And honestly, the move and Christmas had sort of wiped him out. Too many feels.

  Christmas hadn’t been a thing for him since his mother died, so Ari hadn’t really been sure what to do about it, at first. But he’d eventually decided that for Remi’s sake, the holiday should happen. She’d been alright with the tree decorating, and the store-bought dinner. But come Christmas morning, she’d at first been confused, then alarmed, by getting multiple presents. Luca had mailed her something—a pink tutu of all things—and she’d liked it. She’d liked the ballet slippers, too, that Ari’d gotten her. But by present four, she’d stopped, the brightly wrapped present in her hand and a bewildered look on her face. She’d asked him: “But I can’t keep a lot of stuff, right?”

  Her expression had just about KO’d him on the spot. Ari’d wanted to punch himself in the face. He should never have told her she had to stay within a two-bag limit—she was right to be confused.

  He’d quickly scrambled and explained that no, what he’d meant was she could only have two bags while they were on a job. But now they had a house, they could have more than just two bags worth of stuff. Didn’t she have a bed, and a dresser, and all that? And he had lots of weapons and stuff too, right? Not all of that would fit in two bags, not even close.

  She’d eventually nodded, accepting this new logic, but the excitement of Christmas never quite materialized. She was too wary to think all of this was really hers.

  They’d skyped Luca, and she’d been happier then, seeing her uncle for the first time. Family connection meant more to her than pretty, wrapped presents. Luca had been full of questions for her, too: How was the new school? Dance lessons? Did she like the new house?

  Since she’d not started school or dance yet—that was next week—she could only really talk about the house and how much she looked forward to ballet. Still, they’d chattered happily and Ari only had to throw in a word here and there. Luca no doubt wondered why he’d waited so long to get her enrolled in school. If he’d seen her before Christmas Day, he wouldn’t have wondered. It had taken that long for the bruises to fade and to get enough weight on her so she didn’t look like an abused skeleton.

  They weren’t in a pattern, not yet, but the house was mostly unpacked and she was enrolled in both school and dance. And he still had to figure out how to tell Kyou and Ivan, which…yeah. He had no idea how to even approach that.

  Longing for his own brand of normalcy, Ari dared to take a job on New Year’s Day.

  Ari went through a mental checklist in his head, his gear in hand as he prepared to leave. The job would be a quick in and out, basically a day job, as long as the stars aligned and his intel stayed good. Sometimes old intel was worse than bad intel. This had come from Kyou, though, and the hacker was good about updating him when the situation changed. He’d probably be back by dinner—

  “Daddy? Are you going somewhere?” A sleepy voice asked him from the stairs.

  His head snapped around to see his daughter in her Batman pajamas standing on the bottom stair, rubbing at one eye sleepily, a worried expression on her face. Mentally, he started swearing up a storm. How had he forgotten an eight-year-old who couldn’t just be left home alone? Had he just fallen into pre-job habits? Ari kicked himself a few times. “In a bit, yeah. I have a quick job. Don’t worry, gattina.” He formed a plan on the fly even as he reassured her. “I’m going to call my friend to stay with you while I’m gone.”

  She came up to him and wrapped both arms around his thigh, pressing her face into his leg. “Friend?”

  Shit, he’d scared her. After a month of having her, Ari had seen her gradually come out of her shell a bit. The move had helped. At least, she’d been more stable since the move. She wasn’t always quiet and contained; she’d actually ask him questions without prompting sometimes. If she were back to clinging like a koala bear, then she was feeling insecure again. “Yeah, the good friend I told you about? The one who lives nearby? He’s a professional thief. We do a lot of jobs together. His name’s Ivan. We call him Eidolon in the criminal underworld because the man basically walks through walls like they’re not even there.”

  She tilted her head up, looking intrigued. “Kind of like Black Widow can?”

  “Yup. I bet, if you ask him, he’ll teach you some of his tricks. Ivan’s a really nice guy.” In fact, one of the reasons why they got along so well was that he and Ivan shared the same moral code: you don’t prey on the weak. “Let me call him, see where he is, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Maybe you should get dressed while we’re waiting.”

  Nodding, she reluctantly let go of him and headed back upstairs. Ari waited until she was out of earshot before heading into the kitchen. He took a moment to bang his head against the fridge. Smooth, man, real smooth. Apparently, that old adage about habits being a dangerous thing was dead on. It had blind-sided him this time neatly enough. As he pulled his phone free, he tried to remember how long Ivan had spent recuperating. His last job had gotten him injured, but he was mostly on the mend at this point. Hadn’t Kyou said he would only be out of commission for two months? Were they at the end of two months yet?

  The phone rang twice before it was picked up. Ivan sounded fuzzy and cotton-mouthed as he groaned, “Svoloch. Why are you calling me at six in the morning, you have death wish?”

  “Uh, Ivan. I, um, maybe need a favor.”

  The Russian accent only deepened. “This favor better pay well. I do not like being called in at last minute.”

  That Ari knew. “Yeah, that’s my bad. I’m…not used to this yet.”

  There was a digestive pause. He could practically hear Ivan becoming more alert. “We’re not talking about a job, are we.”

  “Um, no. No, we’re not. This was not how I wanted to let you know, I swear I was going to tell you, and we moved here to be closer to you for a reason—”

  “We?”

  “Yeah, we. I have a daughter.”

  “You. Have a daughter? How?”

  “It’s a really long story. Short version, I adopted her. She’s a really great kid, Ivan, I couldn’t let her go into foster, and that’s where she was heading. She wants to be an assassin when she grows up. Thinks it’s totally cool I took her in. Look, I’ll tell you the full story later, but I’ve got a job today, and I kinda forgot to arrange a sitter for her. Aside from you, the only person who knows about her is my brother.”

  “Chert dura. How can you leave that for last minute? Why did you not tell me about her sooner?”

  “I’m well aware I’m an idiot, okay? Can you watch her until I get the job done?”

  There was a great deal of cloth rustling and thumps on the other end of the line. “Da. This girl, I must meet her. I will be there in…wait, where are you?”

  Ari rattled off the address.

  “Da, good, I can be there in forty-five minutes. Have coffee for me. She knows about you and me, right?”

  “Yeah, she knows the basics. She’ll probably ask you how to do stealth stuff. It’s fine if you want to teach her. I’ll leave cash on the table for pizza and stuff.”

  “We will talk about that when I get in.”