Her Vengeful Embrace

by Katee Robert

  The pieces clicked together in the most obvious pattern. She thought he was a plant. An old trick, that. Let him get close to her in the Warren, and once he was solidly placed, make a big messy breakup with Zhao. She’d take Tristan with her and he’d act as mole and eventual betrayer. That kind of thing would never work on Amarante. She was too smart, too paranoid, too unlikely to let him close enough to harm her and hers—as evidenced by her current threat. He grinned. “You’re welcome to try.”

  Fury lingered in her dark eyes, but she snuffed it out. “This isn’t a game.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” He leaned in, getting into her space. “I just found you again. You can shoot me, stab me, fucking try to light me on fire if that tickles your fancy. I don’t give a shit. You’re mine, Te, and I’m yours. Forever. I let Zhao ruin what we had before. I’m not willing to let him do it again.”

  “That’s not your decision to make. Maybe it was once, but it’s not now.” She stood, forcing him to move back. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

  He watched her walk away. The instinct to chase her nearly overwhelmed him, but Amarante didn’t make empty threats. She might not be willing to risk herself in the Warren for him the same way she intended to in order to get to Zhao, but she’d still take Tristan out if he chased her down.

  At least, she’d try.

  Even though he expected it, he still jumped a little when Nic’s voice came from behind him. “Trouble in paradise?”

  “Fuck off.”

  Nic sank into the seat Amarante had just occupied. He nodded at the bartender and held up two fingers. “Her escort is taking her in two hours. Do not interfere.”

  “I have no intention of interfering.”

  Nic gave him a long look. “No, you have something else in mind.”

  There were plenty of risks that came from allowing people too close. They became weak spots to be exploited by enemies, or they started expecting a person to change to fit their messy morals and demanding time and energy that Tristan flat out didn’t have. Nic wasn’t like that. He understood Tristan’s role, just like Tristan understood his. They were friends, yes, but the business would always come first. It was a strange sort of relief not to have to play pretend with him. “Zhao used me.”

  “It appears that way.”

  Not just once, either. The only reason he’d picked Tristan in the first place was his proximity to Amarante. For ten years, he’d kept him like a loaded gun, ready to point in her direction should it ever become necessary. It didn’t matter that Tristan was a fucking asset to the old man. He’d only ever been a tool. In more ways than one.

  He cursed. “I feel really fucking stupid right now.”

  Nic shrugged. “It’s a dog eat dog world. Zhao is worse than most. You know that, but it doesn’t mean you could have anticipated this.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t try to make me feel better. You’re shit at it.” There was no excuse for his oversight. None. He’d had an emotional blind spot when it came to Zhao and he hadn’t even realized it until this moment. “That wily bastard played me.”

  “Yes.”

  He hadn’t felt guilty about how things had played out in the last few days. Tristan was too practical to waste his time on such a useless emotion. Now, though? Now he wanted to deal out violence in a whole new way.

  Zhao used Tristan. He’d get over that. As Nic said, he knew what the man was like after working under him for so long. That wasn’t what this new surge of fury was about. No, it was because Zhao had used Tristan to hurt Amarante. Again.

  “I have to talk to her.”

  He started to push to his feet, but Nic stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Rules are rules. You’re grounded for the next twelve hours or so. If you try to leave, you will be stopped.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Even as he asked, he knew the truth. They both had their lines. Tristan’s was Amarante. Nic’s was the Warren. He let himself be guided back to his seat as the bartender arrived with two whiskeys. Tristan took his and downed it.

  Nic made a pained face. “You’re such a fucking heathen. No appreciation for the finer things.”

  “Whiskey is whiskey.”

  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Tristan rotated to face the bar and blinked. The whole room swam around him, a sickening dizzy swirl. He tried to turn back to Nic, but his body wouldn’t obey him. “You basssstard,” he slurred.

  “You’re welcome.” Nic caught him as he started to slide out of his chair. “I’m saving you from yourself, you stubborn idiot.”

  He tried to form a reply, but darkness took him before he had a chance to.

  The first thing Tristan noticed upon waking was how awful his mouth tasted. He sat up slowly, letting the details of the room wash over him. It was the same suite he’d been in since arriving here. Warm gray walls, tasteful neutral furniture, expensive ass sheets. None of it helped the pounding in his head. “That motherfucker drugged me.”

  He turned carefully to the nightstand. A glass of water, two white pills, and a note sat there on a fancy silver tray. Tristan picked up the note, taking in Nic’s bold handwriting. He really was a fancy asshole.

  Death has returned to the Island of Ys. You’re free to go.

  No apology, but he hadn’t really expected one. In the end, Nic was right; if left to his own devices, Tristan would have gone after Amarante immediately. He shook his head, and immediately regretted it when his headache doubled down in pain. Tristan took both pills and swallowed them with the water.

  A quick investigation of his suite found his suitcase packed already. Nic being heavy-handed and sending the most unsubtle hint in existence. He snorted and headed for the exit. Under other circumstances, he might stay a few extra days just to aggravate the shit out of his friend, but the stakes were too high and the timeline too compressed to dick around.

  Neither Nic nor Amarante had said if they knew what Zhao’s plan was. In the end, it didn’t matter. After working under him for so long, Tristan had a decent idea of how this would go do. If he’d gotten an agreement for a truce from the three representatives, then they’d hammer out the greater details away from the watchful eye of the Warren. Once everyone was on the same page, they’d bring their combined force against the Island of Ys.

  It was the only path forward that made sense. The trick of luring the Horsemen away from the island wouldn’t work again. Beyond that, they’d want to send a clear message. Leaving the enemy stronghold intact wouldn’t manage that. They had to reduce it to nothing. To burn everything the Horsemen had spent ten years building to ash.

  All that would take time to put together, but he couldn’t bank on much of it. Zhao would expect Amarante to go on the attack, and he’d take precautions. Would he anticipate her leaving Tristan behind? Hard to say one way or the other. In the end, it didn’t matter. Amarante might be the best there was, but she hadn’t spent the last ten years learning everything there was to know about Zhao. She needed Tristan, whether she knew it or not.

  He simply had to convince her of that fact.

  First, though, he had to get to her. Tristan grinned. He always had liked a challenge.

  Chapter 18

  Amarante stepped off the plane and inhaled the hot humid air. Home. She’d never thought she’d see it again when she left a few days ago. To be back again, to have failed so spectacularly… She didn’t know what to do. How to feel. Her chest hurt, and as much as she wanted to blame it on her inability to kill Zhao, it wasn’t the truth.

  No, that fault lay completely with Tristan. Or, more accurately, with herself for letting herself be played a fool by Tristan. Again.

  She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and started walking. Only to stop short when a figure moved out of the shadow of the trees. For one impossible moment, her breath caught and she was certain that Tristan had somehow beat her here.
But then he stepped into the light and disappointment flared. Not Tristan. Of course it couldn’t possibly be Tristan. No one arrived on the Island of Ys without the Horsemen knowing, and they certainly wouldn’t let him in.

  Luca watched her closely. “Expecting someone else?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Her voice didn’t sound right. She struggled to adapt the distance she normally wore with ease. “I just wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Uh huh.” He still looked like shit. His dark hair was in desperate need of a cut, and he’d lost weight. Normally, he was just as large as Tristan; now he looked downright wan. But considering he’d been shot a few weeks ago and for a few hours, they hadn’t been sure if he’d make it, he was doing just fine.

  He still shouldn’t be out and about by himself. “You should be resting.”

  His dark eyes flared. “You’re lucky I don’t hogtie you and haul you back to Pleasure on the back of a cart. What the fuck were you thinking, Te?”

  She stopped short. “You know exactly what I was thinking.”

  “Yeah. I do.” He stalked closer. “We don’t need you to protect us anymore. We haven’t for years. We just need you.” He stopped and cast a critical look over her. “You look like shit.”

  “Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.”

  The anger didn’t quite die in his eyes, but it dimmed. “We’ll get the bastard.”

  They kept saying that. Over and over and over again, until it was more mantra than reality. She’d had her chance to get Zhao, had sat less than three feet from him. Instead of killing him like she planned, she’d fucked her old flame and allowed Zhao to dance circles around her while she was distracted. “I fucked up.”

  Luca lifted his arms, just a little, the tiniest of invitations. Amarante didn’t think. She stepped into him and hugged him tightly. His shock only lasted half a breath and then he carefully wrapped his arms around her. Neither of them were big touchers. They’d had that part of them driven out when they were far too young. Another loss to lay at Zhao’s feet.

  But sometimes a hug really was needed.

  She inhaled the familiar scent of her brother and some of the tension filtered out of her. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too.”

  Her throat prickled and she stepped back. Luca immediately dropped his arms and released her. She looked away. “The others are back in the hub?”

  “Yeah.” He gave a rueful grin. “You’re going to get your ass handed to you. Everyone was scared, and you know how we react to that.”

  With anger and violence. Never the latter against each other outside a sparring ring, but there were plenty of harsh words exchanged over the years. Considering how badly she’d scared them all, she was in for it. “We don’t have time for that.”

  “We’re family, Te. Make time.”

  She fell into step next to him as they followed a little footpath to where he’d parked the golf cart. There were no cars on the island. It was too small and, while there were a scattering of private villas on the western coast, the only place they truly changed was the eastern coast that wrapped around the natural bay. Two casinos and a boardwalk full of ridiculousness between them. The northern casino, Pleasure, was their base of operations and their current destination.

  Luca parked the cart around the back of Pleasure, near the dock they kept for Horsemen use, and grabbed her bag. She tried to take it, but he glared. “Now is not the time to argue.”

  “I’m being practical. You’re still hurt.”

  “Shut up, Te.” He hauled the suitcase up to the door, leaving her to follow.

  She hesitated. Amarante had faced down her siblings more than once over the years. Family, no matter how close, fought from time to time. They were no different in that respect. But this was different. She’d lied to them when she gave them the timeline for the summit. And then she’d waited for them to be distracted rescuing Ryu’s woman’s sister in New York and snuck out like a thief in the night. All with the intention to die for them.

  To die for vengeance.

  “Te.”

  She looked up at Luca. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

  A remembered pain flashed across his face. “I know. A lot of things weren’t supposed to be like this.” He dredged up a smile. “But we’re doing okay considering.”

  Okay wasn’t good enough, even if it was the best they could manage. The sword hanging over their head was supposed to be gone now, but instead it was only stronger. “I’ll get us through this.”

  Luca shook his head. “We’ll get us through this.” He pushed open the door. “Come on. The longer you keep them waiting, the more time they have to think up all the things they want to yell at you.”

  Guilt flared, hot and uncomfortable. Amarante didn’t normally waste time with such a useless emotion, but she’d never stepped in it quite so thoroughly as she had the last week. Knowing that she wasn’t supposed to survive to deal with the emotional fallout—that she’d felt relief at that when she left—only made the guilt worse.

  They wove their way through the passageways that weren’t available to the public. The two casinos on the island were set up similar to the Warren in that way, though the Warren’s passageways seemed significantly more complex.

  All too soon, they stepped into the hub. It was a large room with one side devoted entirely to monitors and several computers, all of which Ryu used to keep track of the comings and goings of people of interest. The rest was divided into a kitchen with a dining table and a full range, and a living room with overstuffed couches. Several hallways led off the other side of the room, each going to one of the Horsemen’s private suites. Not just the Horsemen now, though. Luca, Kenzie, and Ryu had all found partners in the midst of the chaos of the last few months. She was happy for them. Truly, she was.

  But she couldn’t look at them scattered around the room without thinking about the man she’d left behind at the Warren.

  Tristan wouldn’t fit in here. He enjoyed fucking with people too much. It was part of the reason she’d kept him away when they were teenagers. That, and she’d wanted something entirely for herself. She didn’t know if she regretted that now. Either way, it was too late to worry about it.

  Luca dropped her suitcase in front of her hallway and walked to where Cami, the former Princess of Thalania, sat. She touched his arm and let him tuck her against his side, but the look she sent Amarante was downright icy.

  I deserve that.

  Kenzie sat on the table, her legs swinging easily. Anyone who wasn’t familiar with her would think she was just nervous, but Amarante knew better. The swinging would give her momentum if she chose to jump off the table and attack. The man in the chair next to her put a big hand on her thigh, stilling her. Liam, former right hand man to one of the most powerful crime families in Boston.

  And finally, inevitably, there was her brother by blood, Ryu. As usual, he sat in the rolling chair in front of his computers, his expression unreadable. The only difference was the woman in his lap. Delilah, an exotic dancer who worked in Pleasure. She appeared relaxed, but the careful way she was draped over Ryu spoke of using her body to remind him to stay in place. To not rush into anything.

  Their partners made them better. Stronger. More complete. They tempered her siblings’ rough edges. The knowledge was bittersweet, to say the least. They truly didn’t need her any longer.

  Kenzie started to hop off the table, but Liam wrapped an arm around her waist and scooted his chair back to pull her into his lap. She huffed out a breath. “I was just going to greet my dear sister.”

  “With a fist to her face?”

  The smile she gave was sharp enough to cut. “Just a punch or two.”

  Amarante gave a sharp smile of her own. “Try it.” This, she knew how to do. Fight. Argue. Poke and prod and manipulate until the people around her gave her the desired outcome. Easier to fight than to deal with the complicated emotions curdling her stomach.

  Ryu carefu
lly set Delilah on her feet and moved forward. “You failed.”

  The sick feeling in her stomach rose into her throat. “Yes. I failed.”

  “Thank fucking god.” He jerked her into a crushing hug. It drove the breath from her lungs and it didn’t matter because she was hugging him back and, oh god, what was going on with her eyes. Ryu squeezed her tighter. “Never, ever do that shit again, do you hear me? He’s taken too much. He doesn’t get to take you, too.”

  Other, smaller arms came around her from the back and then Kenzie was there, holding her between them. “You fucking asshole, I was so worried about you.”

  Luca ruffled her hair and she lifted her head to shoot him a look, even if she didn’t have the heart to put any oomph behind it. Right in that moment, surrounded by her family, she finally had to admit that her mistakes weren’t only that she didn’t manage to kill Zhao. It was that she’d gone after him alone in the first place. “I wanted to keep you safe.”

  “You think losing you won’t hurt worse than anything that’s been done to us so far?” Kenzie pulled back and smacked her shoulder. “Don’t be stupid. You know better.”

  She moved back and then there was only Ryu. Amarante looked up at her brother’s face and pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.” He gave her one last squeeze and released her. Just like that, the soft moment passed and they were all serious again. “Let’s talk about next steps.”

  Amarante took the single chair and the rest of them piled onto the remaining furniture. It felt strange to look at six faces instead of three. Strange, but right. She took a breath. They wouldn’t have peace until this was finished, and if they didn’t finish it fast, they might lose. She hadn’t anticipated Zhao reaching out to other enemies, and that was her mistake. She should have known he’d do anything to remove the Horsemen from existence. They were a living representation of his failure with Bueller.