Chapter 3

Chapter Three

M ontana glanced around the sitting room in search of Dahlia. He'd seen her head back downstairs half an hour ago. With the sweep of the villa completed to his satisfaction, he was anxious to spend some time talking to her—and Vadisk, the grumpy fuck—about something other than their task.

When he'd approached Franco about his discovery regarding his great-uncle being blackmailed, he didn't expect to end up placed in his trinity and swept away to Crimea. He'd taken part in some dangerous missions, with the Navy and as a Warrior Scholar, but this one felt different to him. Perhaps because it wasn't just himself in a perilous situation. While he didn't know anything about Dahlia and Vadisk yet, he'd spent a lifetime waiting for them.

As a legacy, he'd grown up in the Trinity Masters, his father and two mothers all members. When he was called to join, he'd been excited about the day when he would be called to the altar, when the Grand Master would introduce him to his spouses. So far, however, nothing had turned out the way he'd expected.

Of course, that was basically par for the course for him. None of his plans ever worked out the way he hoped. At this point, he should be used to it, better prepared to deal with it. Instead, he was disappointed that things had gotten off to such a shaky start. If they didn't begin to turn it around soon, he feared his trinity was doomed to failure.

Movement outside drew his attention, his defensive mindset kicking in a split second before he realized it was Dahlia. She was sitting on the edge of the pool, her feet submerged in the water and looking out in the distance at the breathtaking view of the sea below them, the sun just beginning to set over the horizon.

Stepping through to the glass-paned door that led to the pool, he took a moment to observe Dahlia in her solitude. He'd been struck by her beauty the instant he watched one of her videos. He'd done some serious binge-watching of "Don't Follow Me" in preparation for the trip, the whole time thinking of how sexy she was, not just because of how she looked but drawn to her intelligent insights and her unwavering sense of adventure.

And that was before he knew she'd be his. When they met in person at Boston Logan International Airport, his physical attraction to her had been instantaneous, though he didn't know if that was based on chemistry or the knowledge that this woman was his wife. They'd flown first class to Athens before boarding the private plane that belonged to some higher-up in the Masters' Admiralty.

Montana had known about the Masters' Admiralty before that call, as a couple of his Warrior Scholars brothers had worked with some Masters' Admiralty members when a European bomber threatened to blow up the Boston Harbor. But getting married to one of them…

He and Dahlia had been seated next to each other on the long flight to Athens, but because it was a red-eye, they'd done little more than exchange pleasantries over dinner before reclining their seats and sleeping the remainder of the nine-and-a-half-hour journey.

Montana had taken a couple of sleeping pills, determined to pass the majority of the trip unconscious, as he was no fan of tight spaces. First-class seating had helped, but his heart had started racing the moment he'd looked at his sleeping pod for the night. As such, he'd been too focused on his breathing to be much good as a conversationalist, despite Dahlia's numerous attempts to draw him in. His first impression hadn't been much better than Vadisk's, considering his long string of one-word responses to her questions.

Once they'd disembarked in Athens, Vadisk had been there waiting for them, and that was when things had really gone off the rails. Vadisk hadn't exactly welcomed them with open arms. Hell, at some points, he'd been openly hostile, which had put Montana on his heels, causing his own temper to spike.

At least for the moment, things were quiet. Given it was Crimea and the task they'd been assigned was dangerous as fuck, Montana figured there wasn't going to be a better time to open a dialogue. God only knew what the days ahead would bring.

He stepped out onto the patio, and Dahlia turned her head, smiling up at him as he crossed to where she sat. Toeing off his own shoes and socks, he pulled his pants up and plopped down next to her, dipping his feet into the cool water as well.

"Feels good," he observed, the temperature in Crimea a good ten to fifteen degrees hotter than what he was used to during summertime in Boston.

"It does," she agreed. "I'm glad the Grand Master asked me to go somewhere with sunshine. My last trip was to see Blood Falls in Dry Valleys."

Montana tilted his head.

"Antarctica," she clarified.

His eyes widened, then he grinned. "I'm guessing it was significantly colder there."

She laughed. "I'm only just now beginning to thaw out, but the trip was worth it. The falls were incredible. Did you know that two million years ago, the Taylor Glacier sealed in a small body of water filled with this ancient community of microbes. They're trapped in a natural time capsule, and they've evolved differently because they live in a place with no light or oxygen and very little heat."

Montana wanted to make a good impression on his now wife, so he didn't do what he normally would have, which was to run for his computer and learn everything he could about these ancient, mutant microbes. He loved learning about stuff like this. He made a mental note to look up Blood Falls later.

"I was in the middle of editing the footage when the Grand Master contacted me and asked if I'd be willing to arrange a trip to Crimea to help out another member." She arched a brow and smiled.

"Thanks for that, for this."

"You're welcome."

"Did you get to finish editing?"

Dahlia shook her head.

"I can't wait to see the finished product. I've watched almost every episode of ‘Don't Follow Me'," he confessed. Dahlia not only showed the world beautiful, interesting places in her videos but gave historical or cultural context as needed. Montana's love of information was well satisfied after an episode.

"Before or after we were placed in a trinity?"

Montana chuckled. "Busted. Before."

"In that case, thanks for watching."

They were smiling at each other when Vadisk opened the door, joining them on the patio. Montana suppressed a surge of irritation. He and Vadisk both wanted the same thing—for this, their home base, to be safe. Exactly how to go about ensuring that had been a point of contention.

Vadisk did a quick scan of the surrounding area, clearly looking for danger. If Montana hadn't been distracted by Dahlia, he would have done the same. He needed to be better about keeping his head in the game because this wasn't the place to let his guard down.

"Care to join us?" Dahlia asked, gesturing to their bare feet in the water.

Vadisk shook his head, opting instead to perch on the end of one of the lounge chairs, his eyes alert, his posture one of standing at attention, even though he was sitting.

Montana understood Vadisk's need to protect them because he felt the same. However, given their task and where they were, Montana thought it was just as important for the three of them to get to know each other. Working together under these conditions would be tense enough without adding a lot of anxiety regarding their relationship. It would be better to get some of the uncertainties out in the open now.

Montana twisted, tucking one foot under his other leg, so that he could face both of his spouses. "So, should we address the elephant in the room?"

Dahlia shot an uneasy look in Vadisk's direction, while the other man scowled.

"Not sure what there is to address?" Vadisk snarled. "I can do the math as easily as you can. It's two to one. I lose."

"Lose?" Dahlia repeated, frowning in confusion.

"You heard our leaders," Vadisk continued. "Once this mission is completed, the three of us will be left to choose where we live. That basically leaves two votes for the Trinity Masters in America, one for the Masters' Admiralty in Hungary—my territory, not the country. I'm being forced to give up my career, my home."

"Vadisk," Dahlia started.

"Am I wrong?" he interjected.

"Yes," she replied simply.

Montana had been concerned about the first impression he'd made, but Vadisk's had been even worse. "You've made a lot of assumptions about us, Vadisk, without even taking the time to get to know us."

Vadisk's arms were crossed, drawing Montana's attention to the man's unbelievably large frame. There was built , and then there was Vadisk with his broad shoulders and thick biceps. The man could give the Incredible Hulk a run for his money, while Montana was probably better suited to play the part of Ant-Man, at least in comparison. At six feeoot, he was one inch under the height cutoff to serve on a submarine, but he'd felt like a giant within the confines of the highly classified nuclear sub.

Fortunately, Montana wasn't the type of man who was easily intimidated by big guys or who felt the need to engage in a dick-measuring contest. The first trait had been passed on to him by his Major General Marine of a father, who taught him how to stand up for himself no matter how big the threat. The second was courtesy of his mother, who'd instilled in him the ability to be comfortable in his own skin, to love himself for who he was.

"Are you saying you'd want to move to Ukraine?" Vadisk asked.

"I'm saying I'm open to a discussion about that when the time comes," Montana clarified. "However, the elephant I was referring to wasn't the living situation. It was the marriage itself. Our marriage was arranged and announced with just a phone call, and then we were shipped off to Crimea without ever having a chance to say more than hello."

Dahlia reached out, placing her hand on top of Montana's. "You're right. We're strangers in a strange land."

He grinned at her reference to the title of that old Heinlein novel. Was she into science fiction? He wondered if he could convince the two of them to do a Dr. Who binge with him once this was all over.

She turned to Vadisk. "Can we take some time to get to know each other better before we tackle the bigger issues?"

Vadisk, who'd been sitting stiffly, seemed to deflate a bit, his ever-present scowl less intense. Rather than respond, he merely nodded once.

"Good." Dahlia pulled her feet from the pool, rising, and crossing to a teak table near the recliners. Montana noticed an open bottle of wine, a glass tinted pink by residual liquid.

She lifted the bottle. "Clearly, I already started. Would you care for some wine?"

Montana nodded, rising as well. "Sure." He sat at one of the chairs around the table, then gave Vadisk a pointed look.

Vadisk sighed, then followed him to the table, claiming the spot at the far end. Dahlia slipped into the villa, returning a moment later with two more glasses. She poured them both a glass before topping hers up.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," Dahlia started once she was settled. "Montana-Reginald with a hyphen?"

Montana groaned. He was used to questions about his unusual name, and while he could laugh about it now—mostly—he wasn't sure this was the first bit of knowledge he wanted to drop on his future spouses. Mainly because it was ridiculously silly.

"I'm a legacy," Montana started, glancing over at Vadisk.

Vadisk toyed with the stem of his wine glass but didn't take a drink. Montana suspected the other man had no plans to indulge in the wine, too intent on remaining alert in case of danger. Montana had already told himself he would only have one glass. Considering the bottle was more than two-thirds empty, it looked as if Dahlia had more than started without them.

"We have legacies too," Vadisk said, responding to Montana's unspoken question. "I am not one."

"I am," Dahlia added with a wave.

"My parents' trinity is an interesting one," Montana continued. "On more than one occasion, my dad has wondered aloud if the Grand Master at the time was drunk when he arranged a marriage between my Marine father, hippie mother, and a Naval Academy professor, Robin."

Dahlia covered her mouth, obviously intent on not laughing, but in the end she failed. "That sounds like an interesting match."

"My dad and Robin present themselves to the public as a married couple. They're both still active in the military. Meanwhile, my mother is a social activist, focused on poverty and food security in America. She's also a pacifist."

"So what I'm hearing is, Thanksgiving at your house is a lot of fun," Dahlia joked.

Montana closed his eyes, rubbing them wearily. "You couldn't believe the debates those three have waged. They last for days and I'm always shocked when no blood has been shed. The crazy part is they genuinely love each other…from a distance. Mom travels a lot, while Dad and Robin have a home on the Severn River in Annapolis, Maryland."

"And where did you grow up? In Annapolis?" Dahlia asked.

"I did. Robin—I call her Mama—didn't want to have children, preferring to focus on her career, so the ‘official story'," Montana finger-quoted, "is my mom was their surrogate because Robin couldn't have children. I lived with Dad and Mama during the school year and spent my summers traveling with Mom."

While Vadisk hadn't contributed anything to the conversation, Montana knew he was listening, even as his gaze continued to scan the area.

"That all sounds kind of cool, but I'm still not hearing an explanation about the name," Dahlia pointed out. "How about you, Vadisk? Does it feel like Montana might be trying to throw us off track?"

Vadisk nodded. "Former Navy, right? Divulge nothing."

Montana wasn't surprised to discover Vadisk had done his own research after learning about their marriage. "Takes one to know one," he replied, letting Vadisk know he'd done some digging around himself.

"My admiral filled me in on a bit of your background after we were placed in this trinity."

Dahlia snapped her fingers impatiently. "The name, Montana-Reginald."

Montana sighed. "I'm named after my father, Reginald, and…" He closed his eyes. "I was conceived in Montana. For some unknown reason, Mom thought that should not just be acknowledged but emblazoned across my birth certificate, so while she gave my dad his namesake, she insisted on the hyphenated first name."

Dahlia pressed her lips together tightly, the corners tipped up.

"You can laugh," Montana said, freeing her.

She giggled with delight, and while it was too brief to be certain, Montana thought Vadisk might have graced them with a split-second grin.

"If the name Montana bothers you, why do you go by that?" Vadisk asked.

"Because my father is Reginald, and he and I…" Montana shrugged.

Vadisk nodded in such a way that Montana wondered if he and Vadisk had just found some common ground. Not that a strained father/son relationship was a great thing to connect over.

Dahlia reached over and placed her hand on Montana's forearm. "Well, I like the name Montana. It suits you."

He tilted his head. "I'm trying to decide if you just insulted me."

Dahlia laughed again. "Divulge nothing. Correct?"

He loved how freely she expressed her joy. While Vadisk was locked up tighter than a drum, Dahlia was friendly and fully engaged in their conversation and getting to know them.

"Okay, so your turn, Dahlia." Montana suddenly wanted to know every single one of her secrets, her dreams, her hopes. Because the initial attraction he'd felt toward her was quickly morphing into genuine fondness. His wife was beautiful, intelligent, and charming, and for the first time since receiving that phone call from the Grand Master, he felt lucky and blessed, knowing she was going to be a part of his life. "Tell us something about you."

Dahlia's smile faded a bit and it felt as if she was almost bracing herself. She fell silent for a long, uncomfortable moment.

"Dahlia?" Vadisk said, also recognizing the sudden change in her demeanor.

"I've spent a lot of time over the years planning how to tell my trinity, how to tell you this, and now, as I sit here, I realize the best way is to just say it."

The same heart-racing thud that always struck whenever Montana was trapped in tight spaces returned. "What is it?"

Dahlia stared at her wine glass for a moment. Montana thought she'd indulged in the wine as a way of calming her nerves over where they were. Now, he wondered if she'd been seeking liquid courage for a confession.

"I'm going blind."

Montana blinked for a few moments, trying to decide if he'd heard her correctly.

"Blind?" Vadisk asked softly.

"Yes. Eventually, I will be legally blind. Not total blackout darkness, the way you're no doubt imagining. I have retinitis pigmentosa. I underwent genetic testing for it because my mother has it. Right now, my symptoms are quite minimal, though I have some night blindness, but if my RP follows the same path as Mom's, I'm facing tunnel vision, as well as loss of my central and color vision."

"Jesus, Dahlia. I'm sorry." Montana took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"It's okay," she said quickly. "I've known about this since I was twelve and my parents took me to be tested. I've had a lot of time to accept what's coming. Plus, I have a pretty terrific role model in my mom. She hasn't let her poor vision slow her down at all. While she recently retired from foreign service, she's still very active in the community and an avid reader, thanks to audiobooks."

Montana smiled, once again impressed by Dahlia's positive outlook. He wasn't sure he could accept the idea of slowly going blind with such optimism.

"In the meantime," Dahlia added, "I'm making the most of the time I have."

Montana leaned forward. "That's why you travel."

It wasn't a question, but Dahlia nodded anyway. "I want to see everything I can before…I can't. It's why I've pursued the path I have. My decision to explore the world and document it came from my diagnosis, from my determination to make the most of my ‘seeing' years," she said, finger-quoting the word seeing.

Montana raised his glass to silently toast her bravery, her sense of adventure. "I can't think of a better reason. And your show really is amazing. I used to think I was fairly well-traveled, but you put my handful of national park hikes and a lone backpacking trek across Europe after leaving the Navy to shame."

She grinned. "I promise it's not a competition. I'll admit I haven't done a lot of hiking in the States. Maybe that's something we could do together."

Montana winked. "It's a date."

They held each other's gaze for just a moment longer before turning their attention to Vadisk. He hadn't added anything to the conversation, and the annoyance Montana had managed to tamp down started to flare again.

Dahlia tilted her head, clearly waiting for their husband to offer some insight on his feelings about her revelation. When he remained stubbornly silent, she upended the rest of the bottle of wine into her glass and took a large sip. "Have you traveled much, Vadisk?" She directed her question at him, purposely attempting to draw him in.

Vadisk nodded. "Some. At the beginning of my military career, I did a tour in Iraq. However, I was called back after the war in Donbas began. I wouldn't call what I saw in either place beautiful. The land has been ravaged by war, cities reduced to rubble and covered in a thick layer of dust."

"What branch of the military?" Montana asked, anxious to keep Vadisk talking now that he'd opened the door.

"The Ukrainian Ground Forces, specifically Operational Command North."

"I can't imagine the last few years have been easy for you," she said compassionately.

Vadisk shook his head in response.

Talking about his time in the military seemed to remind Vadisk of the task at hand, as he took another survey of their surroundings, his expression still closed, almost angry.

While there were a million more questions Montana wanted to ask the two of them, he could tell Vadisk had hit his limit on sharing personal details. What Montana couldn't tell was whether Vadisk was remaining aloof due to their cover story of a couple with their translator or if he was genuinely resistant to this trinity. He'd expressed his concerns about being forced to leave his home and his society, apparently viewing himself as the outnumbered spouse.

It pissed Montana off that Vadisk had jumped to that assumption before ever meeting and speaking to them. He considered saying as much, but he thought it best to wait until he could address that concern in a calmer manner.

"I should go inside," Vadisk said, rising.

"What? Why?" Dahlia asked, making it apparent she wanted to continue their conversation as well.

"The two of you are the couple." The way his jaw clenched was a reminder that he hadn't wanted them to present themselves as a couple. "It makes sense for you to relax outside together. Me remaining here too long would raise questions if anyone is watching us, as I'm supposed to be serving as your translator and guide."

"So I'll go inside and grab a notebook and map," Dahlia offered. "We can make it look as if we're nailing down our itinerary."

Vadisk didn't sit back down. "I didn't choose these roles," he reminded them. "But now that we've assumed them, we need to play our parts very carefully. One misstep here—in this place—could place us in a very dangerous situation."

"We're both perfectly aware of what's at stake here," Montana said, wondering how long before he and Vadisk became concussed after so much time spent butting their heads together like a pair of stubborn goats. "Neither Dahlia nor I need a lecture on how to behave."

Vadisk sighed. "I'm aware of that. I'm simply saying it doesn't make sense for your translator to spend time hanging out by the pool with you."

"Then let's move this conversation inside," Montana said in a low voice.

"Now is not a good time for this."

"Vadisk," Montana said, ready to argue that now was probably the best time.

Before he could say that, however, Vadisk cut him off. "This won't be a fast operation. We have to prove why you two are here, by actually doing the things on your visas, before we start asking dangerous questions."

"We have the Golitsyn Path hike planned for tomorrow," Dahlia reminded them. "With its view of the sea and the picturesque bays, it makes sense I would go there to film."

"Then we should get some rest so we can get an early start." Vadisk gave them a short nod and walked away before either of them could say good night.

Dahlia toyed with the stem of her wine glass for a moment. Montana could almost see her trying to shrug off the rejection they'd both just received from their husband.

"Vadisk is right," she said, clearing her throat. "We should probably turn in early, otherwise jet lag might make us too groggy to think clearly."

He and Dahlia had taken the primary bedroom, which was the largest and separated from the other three. Since they were acting as a couple, they knew separate rooms weren't possible. However, they'd also decided that given the danger surrounding them, and the fact Vadisk couldn't share the bed with them, it would be a platonic sleeping situation until this mission was over and the three of them could move forward as a throuple.

Montana had thought sitting down and talking through things might pull the three of them closer, but it felt like tonight had only made things more uncomfortable.

"Are you still okay with the two of us sharing a bed?" he asked quietly.

She gave him a weak attempt at a smile. "Of course, I am. You're my husband." Then her gaze drifted to the door Vadisk had just entered.

Montana hated the sudden sadness in her eyes, but it was painfully clear nothing more was happening tonight, so he tried to tell himself that a good night's sleep might improve the situation. Unfortunately, he wasn't as good as Dahlia when it came to putting a positive spin on things.

"Okay then, wife," he agreed, trying to lighten the mood, as he helped Dahlia gather the wine glasses and empty wine bottle. They placed the dishes in the kitchen sink and headed upstairs.

They took turns in the en suite bathroom. She donned a pair of sleep shorts and a T-shirt, the navy-blue color matching that of her dark blue eyes.

Dahlia crawled into the bed, climbing beneath the lightweight duvet. He followed suit on his side of the bed, a good two feet remaining between them.Once they were both settled, she turned and quietly said good night before rolling to her side, her back turned to him.

He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, awash in too many emotions to settle his thoughts.

Between his frustration and anger toward Vadisk, his attraction and admiration for Dahlia, his apprehension and, yes, fear, about where they were and the danger surrounding their mission, he was on system overload.

He tried to convince himself that he'd done the best he could considering some fairly insurmountable odds. After all, he, Vadisk, and Dahlia had been dropped down in the middle of Crimea, in the midst of a war, to investigate a blackmailer.

And if that wasn't stressful enough, they'd also been introduced to their life partners and charged with the additional task of figuring out where they were going to live once their dangerous mission was complete.

Where to settle was a common decision for newly formed trinities, so it wasn't like Montana had been blindsided by that. Until he realized they weren't just faced with hopping from the East Coast to the West Coast.

Nope.

They were looking at potentially moving halfway across the world and possibly changing allegiances as far as their secret society was concerned. While the Grand Master hadn't mentioned their future within the Trinity Masters, Montana couldn't help but wonder if by choosing to move to Europe, he and Dahlia would be forced to switch societies. Given how little Montana knew about the Masters' Admiralty, that uncertainty added yet another item to the list of shit stressing him out at the moment.

He sighed, forcing himself to put it all away. None of this crap was going to be solved tonight. So, he shoved everything into boxes, compartmentalizing it all by assigning it a rank, aware that he needed to take this all one day at a time.

Right now, the most important thing had to be the mission.

Montana mentally went through everything that needed to happen tomorrow, and once he felt comfortable in his role and tasks, he closed his eyes and willed sleep to come.