waist, Tasha climbed out through a manhole. She ducked into the first clothing store she could find, bought new clothes and then changed. She walked quickly and jumped on a bus, resorting to tradecraft—spy behavior—without even having to think about it.
Two hours later, she was on a Greyhound headed to Oklahoma. It was time to go home.
*****
Damon stared in shock at the darkness into which Tasha had disappeared. So many things had just happened that he had trouble deciding which he should focus on—the fact that Tasha was going to be their wife, her assertion that the Grand Master had arranged the match as some sort of punishment, or her belief that she wasn’t good enough for them.
The last one caused the guilt he felt over the way they’d confronted her to thicken in his gut. He’d seen little hints of the vulnerable woman who’d just stormed from the room. And yet he’d still acted as if she were plotting something by having kissed them both.
“Don’t just stand here,” the Grand Master said. “Go after her.”
“Wait.” It was Marco who spoke. “You need to tell us what’s really going on.”
There was a beat of silence. “I don’t need to do anything.”
“That’s our future wife,” Damon added. “What did she mean when she said she took your pity?”
The Grand Master, who stood in darkness, sighed. It was the most human thing Damon had ever heard him do. “Her CIA handler was a member. When it became clear that Tasha could not survive as an asset for much longer, her handler, who was himself retiring, asked that she be made a member. Tasha is…unlike anyone else. She never had a normal life, and yet she knows more about people than anyone I’ve ever met. I should have paired her right away. I knew she was excited about a marriage, excited because she would get to be part of something that to her would seem normal.”
“A trinity marriage?” Damon asked. “That was normal?”
“Marriage, planning a future, being intimate—they were things she said she didn’t know how to do. She even asked me if she could be paired with a man and a woman, so that she would have someone to teach her how to be a wife.”
“Jesus,” Marco breathed.
“Then why us, and why now?” Damon said. “Why not then, when she wanted it?”
There was silence before the Grand Master said, “There are things happening that you don’t know about. We’re under attack and have been for years. Tasha had no ties, nothing to lose. She was…not wrong in accusing me of using her the way the CIA did.”
“And why didn’t you match her?”
“Because I know the members of this society, and I knew that once she was married, her spouses would move heaven and earth to protect her—even from me.”
“And you’re damned, fucking right,” Damon growled.
“Stay away from her,” Marco added.
“Don’t forget who you’re talking to.” The Grand Master’s words dripped with warning.
“We won’t forget,” Marco said. “We just don’t care.”
They turned for the doors to the dressing rooms.
“I have an address. A place she thinks I don’t know about,” the Grand Master said.
Damon paused but didn’t turn at his words.
“I will send it to you.”
“Fine.” Marco ripped open the door.
“I expect you back here in one month,” the Grand Master said. “To be formally married.”
“Let’s hope we catch her by then.” Damon disappeared into the dressing room.
As he threw off the robe and put on his clothes, he was grinning. Despite the seriousness of the situation he was excited. When he joined Marco in the hall he saw the same expression on his best friend’s face.
“Want to go catch and marry a reformed Russian spy?” Marco asked.
Damon laughed. “As long as we can do it before Sunday. I’ve got to go to work.”
“A lawyer and a musician? I’m sure we’ll have no trouble finding a highly trained intelligence agent.”
*****
Marco looked at the pretty yellow farm house
Two hours later, she was on a Greyhound headed to Oklahoma. It was time to go home.
*****
Damon stared in shock at the darkness into which Tasha had disappeared. So many things had just happened that he had trouble deciding which he should focus on—the fact that Tasha was going to be their wife, her assertion that the Grand Master had arranged the match as some sort of punishment, or her belief that she wasn’t good enough for them.
The last one caused the guilt he felt over the way they’d confronted her to thicken in his gut. He’d seen little hints of the vulnerable woman who’d just stormed from the room. And yet he’d still acted as if she were plotting something by having kissed them both.
“Don’t just stand here,” the Grand Master said. “Go after her.”
“Wait.” It was Marco who spoke. “You need to tell us what’s really going on.”
There was a beat of silence. “I don’t need to do anything.”
“That’s our future wife,” Damon added. “What did she mean when she said she took your pity?”
The Grand Master, who stood in darkness, sighed. It was the most human thing Damon had ever heard him do. “Her CIA handler was a member. When it became clear that Tasha could not survive as an asset for much longer, her handler, who was himself retiring, asked that she be made a member. Tasha is…unlike anyone else. She never had a normal life, and yet she knows more about people than anyone I’ve ever met. I should have paired her right away. I knew she was excited about a marriage, excited because she would get to be part of something that to her would seem normal.”
“A trinity marriage?” Damon asked. “That was normal?”
“Marriage, planning a future, being intimate—they were things she said she didn’t know how to do. She even asked me if she could be paired with a man and a woman, so that she would have someone to teach her how to be a wife.”
“Jesus,” Marco breathed.
“Then why us, and why now?” Damon said. “Why not then, when she wanted it?”
There was silence before the Grand Master said, “There are things happening that you don’t know about. We’re under attack and have been for years. Tasha had no ties, nothing to lose. She was…not wrong in accusing me of using her the way the CIA did.”
“And why didn’t you match her?”
“Because I know the members of this society, and I knew that once she was married, her spouses would move heaven and earth to protect her—even from me.”
“And you’re damned, fucking right,” Damon growled.
“Stay away from her,” Marco added.
“Don’t forget who you’re talking to.” The Grand Master’s words dripped with warning.
“We won’t forget,” Marco said. “We just don’t care.”
They turned for the doors to the dressing rooms.
“I have an address. A place she thinks I don’t know about,” the Grand Master said.
Damon paused but didn’t turn at his words.
“I will send it to you.”
“Fine.” Marco ripped open the door.
“I expect you back here in one month,” the Grand Master said. “To be formally married.”
“Let’s hope we catch her by then.” Damon disappeared into the dressing room.
As he threw off the robe and put on his clothes, he was grinning. Despite the seriousness of the situation he was excited. When he joined Marco in the hall he saw the same expression on his best friend’s face.
“Want to go catch and marry a reformed Russian spy?” Marco asked.
Damon laughed. “As long as we can do it before Sunday. I’ve got to go to work.”
“A lawyer and a musician? I’m sure we’ll have no trouble finding a highly trained intelligence agent.”
*****
Marco looked at the pretty yellow farm house
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