Page 38 of Hunt Me

“And you don’t deserve me knowing how you take your wine?” I tilt my head. “Fair’s fair,detka.”

“What does that mean?”

“What?”

“Detka.” She pronounces it carefully, the Russian syllables slightly wrong on her tongue. “You keep calling me that.”

I pick up my water glass, buying time. “It’s an endearment.”

“I gathered. What kind?”

“Similar to baby.”

Her expression shifts—surprise bleeding into something warmer before she catches herself. “You’re calling me baby?”

“Problem?”

“It’s...” She stops, fingers fidgeting with her napkin. “Presumptuous.”

“Everything about this is presumptuous.” I set down the glass. “But you haven’t told me to stop.”

“I’m telling you now.”

“No, you’re not.” I lean forward, elbows on the table. “You’re asking what it means because you liked hearing it. Wanted to know if I meant it affectionately or condescendingly.”

“And which is it?”

“Both.” I watch her process that. “You’re brilliant and infuriating in equal measure. Baby seems appropriate.”

The waiter returns with wine, performing the tasting ritual. I nod approval without breaking eye contact with Iris.

She waits until he leaves before speaking. “I have a name.”

“Iris.” I test it, letting each letter roll off my tongue. “Goddess of the rainbow. Messenger between gods and mortals. Fitting, considering you spend your life between digital and physical worlds.”

“You researched Greek mythology?”

“I researched everything about you.” I pour wine into her glass, then mine. “Your dissertation on quantum encryption.Your high school chess championship. That coffee shop in Providence you worked at during undergrad.”

She goes very still. “Why?”

“Because you’re the first person to challenge me in years.” The admission comes easier than expected. “Everyone else is predictable. You’re not.”

“So, I’m what? A puzzle to solve?”

“No.” I lift my glass. “You’re the puzzle I don’t want to solve. Just want to keep playing.”

Her fingers wrap around her wine glass, but she doesn’t drink. “That’s the most honest thing you’ve said all night.”

“I’m always honest with you.”

“You’re a criminal who makes a living from deception.”

“Not with you.” I take a sip, letting the wine settle. “Never with you,detka.”

She flinches at the endearment but doesn’t correct me this time.

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