by Karina Halle
All the Love in the World
A Holiday Anthology
Karina Halle
Copyright © 2020 by Karina Halle
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design: Hang Le Designs
Edited by: Laura Helseth
For my readers
Contents
Before you start this book
A Christmas Cartel
The Off-Season
Vera
Mateo
Vera
Mateo
Arrow Through the Heart
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
GHOSTED
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
A Nordic New Year
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Shorter Stories
Dark Paradise—An Esteban Story
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Defying the Dust—A Camden & Ellie Story
That 70’s Interview—A Dawn & Sage Story
Target—A Dex & Perry Story
The Baby—A Steph & Linden Story
A Wedding Set in the Stars—A Mateo & Vera Story
Connect with the Author
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
About the Author
Also by Karina Halle
Before you start this book
All the Love in the World is a holiday themed anthology of novellas and short stories. None of the following stories are intended to be read as standalones. If you choose to read on, do note that it will contain spoilers for the novels that the characters are from and you may be lost.
A Christmas Cartel – featuring characters from The Artists Trilogy and The Dirty Angels Trilogy
The Off-Season – featuring characters from Love in English, The Forbidden Man, and The One That Got Away
Arrow Through the Heart – featuring characters from The McGregors series (The Pact, The Offer, The Play, The Lie, The Debt)
Ghosted – featuring characters from the Experiment in Terror Series, The Devil’s Duology, and Veiled.
This anthology also features non-holiday themed short stories (unless you count shopping at Target to be a holiday, I certainly do), with more never-before-published or no longer available works from the same characters.
I hope this anthology ends up being a warm hug on a cold day, a way to revisit your favorite characters and catch up with them, no matter the season.
A Christmas Cartel
A Dirty Angels Christmas Story
The dead body was starting to stink.
One glance behind me at Luisa told me she could smell it too. The distasteful curl of her beautiful lips, her delicate nose scrunched up. You would think that being the wife of a cartel leader would have prepared her for the pervasive scent of death, but apparently this wasn’t the case today.
I look over at Vicente, sitting in his car seat beside her. Head lolling to the side, eyes closed, mouth open. A twinge of pride flows through me as it always does when I look at my son. Now there’s a real man. He might only be two years old, but murder and mayhem don’t disturb him anymore than missing out on a nap does. He’ll be a fine leader one day.
Providing Luisa doesn’t spoil the living shit out of him, I think to myself. Luisa is a natural at motherhood. She really is. Her nurturing tendencies have made her so intuitive to Vicente’s every need, and her generous personality means he’s been given his every want. But, honestly, she coddles him, just a little. I know he’s only a toddler and everything, but one day he’ll have to rise up and lead and he can’t do that while sucking his thumb.
I give my wife another glance. She’s now staring out the window with big eyes at the passing scenery. The rough mountainous road up to the cabin has been filled with enough switchbacks to make one queasy, and I know that, coupled with the smell of the dead body in the back, has made her look a little green.
As long as I can deliver on the snow, I know she’ll be okay.
This whole thing was her idea, anyway.
Not the dead guy. No, that always just happens.
We landed at the private airstrip outside Monterrey just a few hours ago and were immediately whisked off in a private, supposedly bullet-proof SUV. There’s the driver, whose name I’ve already forgotten, then Diego, my right-hand man. They’re in the front seat.
I’m in the second row, with Evaristo, my left-hand man.
In the back row are my nauseated wife and my sleeping son.
All year Luisa has been harping on me to have a proper Christmas for Vicente. Last year, well, I wasn’t even around because of a deal I had to go take care of at the last minute (it’s not like the other cartels respect the holidays), and she was deeply upset that I was absent for the baby’s first Christmas.
This year I promised Luisa I’d do what I could to make it memorable. That didn’t mean having a lavish dinner at our compound in Sinaloa. No, that wouldn’t do. It wasn’t enough. Luisa is my queen and a queen deserves only the very best, even if it’s slightly dangerous and wildly inconvenient.
So, I did what I could do. I bought a cabin in the mountains outside of Monterrey, one of the few places where it snows in the winter. Made arrangements to fly there on our private jet.
We all knew the risks in this. Every time we leave the compound it’s a risk. We are one of the most powerful cartels in Mexico. A million people wish me dead, and there are more than enough capable of carrying it out.
Hence the dead body in the trunk.
We hadn’t driven that far when we were ambushed by a pair of trucks that pulled out from behind the trees. Men got out, machine guns blasting. Not the most subtle approach, that’s for sure. Sloppy and irritating as fuck.
They aimed at my SUV and Luisa screamed and, for whatever reason, little Vicente didn’t even cry.
The SUV held up.
They only fired for a few moments anyway, until the car in front of us, more of my heavy men, got out, rolled out some tear gas, gassed those fuckers and slit their throats.
I hate having my men to all the dirty work, though.
Which is why, despite Luisa’s protesting, I got out of the car, grabbing a knife and a gas mask from the sleeve behind the seat. It’s probably supposed to hold magazines or some shit, but I have different requirements when I’m being driven around.
There was one asshole, who tried to escape the tear gas, writhing on the ground. I needed him alive. That’s how this whole thing works.
I slipped on the mask and stalked toward him as he crawled away. One of my heavy men were going to shoot him, but I told him to wait.
I picked the guy up by both his ears as he howled at me, tears streaming down his face from the gas.
Sliced the tip of his nose clean off.
I had a joke about cutting off your nose to spite your face, but he wouldn’t have heard me through the gas mask anyway.
Then, while he was covering his face, scream
ing, covered in a river of blood, I had my men pick him up and drag him to the back of the SUV. They covered his mouth with duct tape, taped his legs and arms too, and threw him back there. Luisa looked horrified that he was going to be in our vehicle, but she got used to it fairly quickly, as she always does. That’s why she’s my wife. Her revulsion for my job only lasts a few seconds before she realizes how alike we really are.
We continued on our way up the mountains.
Until the man in the back seat made some gurgling noises and stopped thrashing around.
I looked in the back to see he was dead.
I suppose cutting off his nose and covering his mouth made him drown in his own blood. My mistake. But what are you going to do?
He’ll still make for some good retaliation videos, hence why we’re not dumping him out here in the middle of nowhere. No, you should always carry around the body of your enemy if you can. You never know when you might need one.
“Are we there yet?” Luisa asks quietly.
“Soon,” I tell her, glancing down at my phone and watching our location on the GPS. I’ve actually never been here before, everything’s been handled by Evaristo. I glance up at him. “You sure it’s secure?”
He nods. “You’ll be as protected as you are at home.”
“True, but I don’t usually have people trying to kill me if I go for a drive. You said that no one would pay us any attention. But those were the Zetas. I know they were.”
“Lazcano is dead,” Evaristo says, speaking of the Zeta cartel’s ex-leader. “The group is directionless. Those men back there were stragglers. We have nothing to worry about.”
Evaristo used to be a federale, back in the day, before I turned him like a fucking vampire. Now he works for me, is loyal to me, and still keeps tabs on the old channels of the intelligence community.
I trust him with my life. I even lost him for some time, when he went off undercover as a priest, hiding from the government and the DEA. But he’s back. They always come back.
I glance behind me at the dead body. “Pity I didn’t get a chance to get him to talk.”
Luisa snorts and I eye her. “Oh come now, Javi,” she says to me. “You know he’d die before he said a word.”
I shrug and turn back in my seat. “Maybe. Maybe not. Isn’t finding out the fun part?”
She gives me a pointed look. “Anyway, can we stop talking about this?” she goes on. “We’re supposed to be in the Christmas spirit.”
I exchange a dry look with Evaristo. He presses his lips together, trying not to smile. He knows what an uphill battle we have with the Christmas fucking spirit.
It’s about another hour through some rough and bumpy terrain, the SUV’s at a crawl, until we finally arrive at the compound. It’s hidden extremely well. The road ends and, unless you know where to drive, you wouldn’t think you could keep going. It disappears under pines, and then there are twists and turns, a couple of gates, and then the electrified fence, like you’re driving into Jurassic Park or something.
But instead of dinosaurs, it’s a massive house that wouldn’t look out of place in the American Rockies, surrounded by tall trees.
“This is the cabin?” Luisa says, sounding awed.
“This is it,” Evaristo says.
We get out of the cars and, damn, he did a good job picking this one. Three stories, huge cathedral windows, knotted pine, it looks more like a lodge than anything else.
Also, “Fuck, it’s cold,” I cry out, the breeze sharp and biting. “Jesus.”
“Oh, you’re just not used to it, Javier,” Diego says, grinning at me.
“None of us are,” I remind him. “Stop pretending your dick is bigger.”
That shut him up.
We head into the house, the heavy men doing a sweep first before bringing in the luggage. I’m immediately fishing out a parka from my suitcase. It was five thousand US dollars, stuffed with Canadian geese (the feathers, I assume), and I bought it specifically for this trip. Though it’s slim-cut, it’s hard to look menacing in a parka. But it’s either that or I freeze.
“Where’s the tree?” Luisa says.
I turn to see her standing in the middle of the grand hall, facing the cathedral window.
“The tree?”
She gives me a look like I’m the crazy one. “Yes. The Christmas tree. You promised me we’d have a Christmas tree. With presents under it. And decorations.”
Fuck. Did I?
I blink, trying to think back to when we agreed to this whole Christmas trip and, honestly, I don’t think I remember promising anything? I mean I should know, I don’t break my promises.
“Are you sure?” I ask her. I don’t want to push back at her, but she’s got an edge to her voice and her eyes are a little cagey. The only thing protecting me from her is the fact that she has Vicente bundled in her arms.
She gives me a glare that makes my balls shrivel. “I am sure.”
I shrug. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Luisa. I could go cut down a fucking tree if you want.”
Her brows snap up. “Why are you taking that tone with me? This was something I asked you to do and you promised.”
“Well, we’re here,” I gesture wildly to the cavernous place. “We took the trip. Nearly got fucking killed on the way up. You have your mountain cabin now, with a chance of snow. Don’t tell me I didn’t give you what you asked for.”
“What I asked for, Javier,” she says to me, coming right over and getting in my face. I glance down at Vicente who is staring up at me, and if I’m not mistaken, he looks disappointed in me too. “Was for you to pay attention to me. To pay attention to what I was saying. You never do. All you think about is work.”
I place my hands over Vicente’s ears. “I run a fucking cartel, you crazy woman!” I yell at her. “I have to think about work or we die! We’ve learned this the hard way.”
“And you’d think that would have been enough to have you turn around and realize what’s important.”
“My god, why are we fighting about this?” I glance around me, and Evaristo, Diego and all the heavy men suddenly look away, pretending that they aren’t listening. Assholes. I should kill them all.
“Because you don’t listen! You don’t listen to what I’m really saying. This isn’t just a matter of Christmas. It’s not about me asking you to do something. It’s about you wanting to. It’s about finding a tiny sliver of selflessness inside you, the part of you that thinks about other people. I thought, maybe, you would have done these things because it’s Christmas and it’s a nice thing to do.” She pauses, licking her lips. “But maybe that’s on me. Maybe I shouldn’t have my expectations so high when it comes to you. I know who you are. I knew that when I married you.”
I don’t want her words to hurt, but they do. Oh, they fucking do. But I manage to bury that, to keep my face impassive, my voice mild. “I did what you asked. If you wish to be mad at me over that, then that’s on you. You never said anything about a tree or presents or decorations. I’ve never been a mind reader, and I’m not about to start.”
“Don’t you see, Javi?” she says to me with disgust, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have to bring it up.”
My hands fall away from Vicente’s ears and Luisa stalks off. “I’m going to have my own bedroom, with our son,” she says, going up the stairs at the end of the hall. “You can sleep alone tonight.”
Fucking hell.
I look back at the guys and they’re still pretending to do other shit.
“Evaristo,” I bark, and he comes over to me. Still trying not to smile. “I’m going to need Christmas presents.”
He frowns. “You didn’t buy Christmas presents? I would have thought you brought them with you.”
“Well, you thought wrong,” I grumble, feeling like an ass. “I was busy.”
“Jaiver, I’m not sure I should be buying presents for your wife. That feels like something you ought to be doing. Just tell me what she wants, and I’ll
have one of the men get it from Monterrey.”
“Oh come on, I don’t know. Just get something.”
Evaristo gives me a look I don’t appreciate. It’s the look that says I’m a sorry mess of a husband. “You have a think about it overnight and tell me in the morning. Okay?”
I don’t like taking orders from other people, but in this case, I know he’s probably right.
Evening falls fast here and so do the temperatures. There’s a roaring fire in the fireplace, where most of us congregate after dinner.
What an awkward dinner that was. Luisa barely ate and then disappeared into the rustic bowels of the house again.
I know I just need to let her be. We fight a lot, as to be expected, and I know deep down that she’s right about most (okay, maybe all) of the things she said. But I can’t let her have the upper hand, even if she does. There has to be some illusion of control and power in this relationship. She’s my queen, but if she knew she had more power than the king, there would be hell to pay.
“I’m turning in,” Diego says, getting up and putting down his glass of scotch.
“So soon?” I ask.
He nods and Evaristo gets to his feet as well. “Me too. Don’t worry, we’re patrolling all night. There are heat cams and sensors at the main road, the gates, it’ll all trigger well before anyone can get here.”