Calavera. (Den of Mercenaries #4)

by London Miller

  Unbidden, she thought about their session with Dr. Marie, and the way he had so casually spoken about why he had needed to do this, but even as she knew there was no reason she should still be angry with him … it was hard letting that go.

  Despite herself, jealousy reared its ugly head.

  Ariana had always been the pretty one, the one everyone wanted to spoil because it was so easy for her to wrap people around her finger. She couldn’t help it had always been that way, but Luna didn’t like the idea of her trying to wrap Kit around her finger.

  And she knew that was exactly what she was trying to do judging from that coy little smile on her face as she focused her undivided attention on him.

  “So part of his job is taking her to the opera?”

  An amused smile curled Uilleam’s mouth as he regarded her. “Feeling a bit territorial?”

  “Just answer the question. You obviously know something I don’t.”

  “Patience, Luna. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves when the night has just started.”

  People were still filling in all around the theater, taking their seats as the murmurs grew in volume—at least, until the lights started to dim.

  It was during the hush that she noticed the doors behind Kit and Ariana swinging open. Carmen entered first, then Caesar, and finally, another man who was only vaguely familiar because of the file she had on the rest of them.

  Luna could just see the blurred edges of the black and gray tattoos that covered nearly every inch of the exposed skin on his hands and throat.

  Agustín Contreras—The Saint. Rumors as to how he had acquired the name varied, with some speaking of his killing an enemy in the ruins of an old church, or another where he had murdered a man with a crucifix, but of all of them, they said the man said a prayer for each and every man that he put in the ground.

  He also happened to be Ariana’s fiancé.

  The first time Luna had seen him during her research into her family, he hadn’t seemed to be like anything she expected her sister to want in a man. The one boyfriend she could remember Ariana having had been blond, blue-eyed, and wore plaid shorts.

  Agustín was definitely not that.

  But then again, she didn’t really know her sister anymore. They might not have always gotten along—Ariana never enjoyed having her younger sister tag along for the things she wanted to do—but Luna had never thought her sister would have gladly gone along with her kidnapping and murder plot.

  But she hadn’t expected it of her own mother either.

  Ariana startled as the other guests of her booth entered, removing the wandering hand she had drifting over Kit’s shoulder. If Luna could see her doing it, she didn’t doubt that Agustín hadn’t missed it, but if he cared that his fiancée was obviously interested in another man, he didn’t seem to care.

  As he took the seat opposite her, offering a nod of acknowledgment to Kit, he focused his bored gaze on the stage below. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there any more than Luna did.

  “A whole family affair,” Luna mumbled as she looked over at Uilleam.

  “It seems so. Tell me, how much do you know about the Contreras Cartel?” Uilleam asked, taking a sip of his champagne.

  “They’re looking to expand,” Luna answered, reciting information she had memorized. “His father died seven months ago, right? Now, he’s the head of the cartel, and he wants to do more business stateside.”

  “Good to see you’re paying attention.”

  Luna rolled her eyes, refusing to even acknowledge that. “I know he wants the connections Carmen and Caesar have, but I can’t figure out why he would willingly get into a relationship with Ariana.”

  “As you said—connections. You’re correct in thinking that he wants Caesar’s connections, but you’re missing that Carmen wants a number of his. She was willing to sacrifice one daughter—don’t think she’s above using the other for her own gain as well.”

  She couldn’t decide who was more disgusting for that trade—her mother for offering it, or Agustín for accepting it.

  “And so long as Ariana has Agustín’s ear, Carmen can have an inside man. Not a bad plan, really, but she didn’t account for the fact that her daughter spreads her legs for anyone, and a man, even one as desperate as Agustín, would get annoyed with that fact.”

  Not sure what to say to that, Luna remained silent, more focused on the booth across from them rather than the show that was starting as a man in a powdered white wig came out from behind the curtains, a spotlight beaming down on him.

  “You won’t be going to work for your mother,” Uilleam went on, his voice lower. “And if everything goes according to plan, the two of you won’t ever cross paths until the end where you can gloat after a job well done.”

  “Then why are we here?” she asked, glancing at him.

  “We’re here to watch a man die.” Even in the darkness, she could see the white of his teeth. “By the time you get home this evening, a new file will be waiting for you—Winter as well, since I’m sure you’ll be needing her assistance.”

  “A new file?” she asked. “On who?”

  She didn’t think anyone was left connected to Carmen or Ariana who she hadn’t investigated thoroughly.

  “In due time, Luna.” Uilleam reached over to squeeze her hand, forcing her attention back to him. But he wasn’t looking at her. “My brother has always been a planner, you know. He’s quite talented that way. While I’m loathed to admit it, that talent coupled with his abilities as a master assassin … well, that makes him a bit of a formidable opponent, no?”

  Luna nodded. She might not have known what he was getting at, but she knew his words were true.

  “Now, I like to think that it’s not just in the planning. Variables change, and sometimes, you can’t account for human error. I have a vision, you understand, one that changes with each new opponent I face. In the end, I make sure that what I want comes to fruition no matter what.”

  “Because of Karina?” Luna dared to ask.

  She didn’t think she would ever forget the name now that he had shared it and the stories that went along with it. The anguish she had heard in his voice when he spoke of her … It felt like this ghost of a woman was the only thing capable of making Uilleam feel.

  Uilleam’s gaze dropped to the glass in his hand then back at her for an uncomfortable moment. “Yes.”

  She was surprised he had admitted as much. “Okay.”

  “Now, imagine that a single individual manages to piss off these two people. If we’re this powerful as individuals, can you imagine what we’re capable of when we work together?”

  Luna didn’t answer, though she knew the answer.

  It didn’t spell good things for Elias.

  As the singing grew in pitch, Uilleam sat up a little straighter, sliding on a pair of glasses of his own. “Ah, the crescendo. It’s time for the game to begin.”

  Luna’s gaze shot over to the other balcony, and to her surprise, she found Kit looking in their direction—at her.

  There was a curious expression on his face, one that made her wish she could read his thoughts, but it blanked over once he realized she was looking at him.

  But not before a corner of his mouth turned up.

  And with it came the sharp crack of a gunshot, the abrupt silencing of the signing on stage as screams reverberated around the room as people fled in terror.

  Ariana’s startled wail dragged Luna’s attention back to the balcony and away from where she thought the shot had come from. By now, Red had probably gotten his rifle broken down, and he was already gone.

  Caesar was collapsed back in his seat, a bullet hole in his forehead as a rivulet of blood rolled down his face.

  Armed men had stormed into the booth, guns drawn, but they couldn’t do anything—he was already dead.

  Carmen was on her feet, disbelief coloring her face as blood stained the front of her dress and the side of her face. Her eyes might have been wide, but she
didn’t look surprised. Of course, she didn’t, she had known this was coming.

  She’d arranged it.

  As her security escorted her and Ariana from the box, Agustín not too far behind—and he didn’t look bothered in the slightest by Caesar’s death—Kit remained for a few moments longer.

  Just long enough that he offered her a wink before he too was gone.

  Yeah, the game was definitely on.

  Chapter Three

  “You would think after seeing her husband get brutally murdered, the woman would be in hysterics,” Aidra remarked as they stood in the shadowy alcove, watching as Carmen and Ariana spoke with the detectives who had already taken Kit’s statement—a statement that had been mostly nods and small details.

  Kit agreed with a nod, but he was too annoyed to offer much more than that. Aidra was right, but despite what she thought, she still believed there was some good in people—Kit didn’t.

  Especially not in a woman like Carmen Rivera who dabbed at dry eyes with a handkerchief one of the detectives had given her when she’d first started with the fake tears.

  Perhaps, to anyone else, she might have appeared upset, but Kit saw the deception and the careful way she held herself. No real grief was displayed like that—real grief couldn’t be controlled.

  “You think too much of her,” Kit said with a shake of his head, watching as the coroner rolled the black body bag out of the building, flashing camera lenses greeting him the second he was out the door.

  Even still, Carmen didn’t shed a tear.

  “Maybe so,” Aidra agreed, tucking red strands of hair behind her ear. “Who was the sniper?”

  “One of Uilleam’s mercenaries.”

  Uilleam’s marksman was very good at what he did—to be able to hit his target in such a crowded setting, along with the poor lighting was a feat of its own—but he had also managed to avoid detection and got out of the building before authorities locked it down.

  But then again, he had learned under Zachariah, and Kit knew firsthand how good of a teacher his uncle had been.

  He could still remember the grueling regimen he’d been under each day and night when he’d trained with the Lotus Society. There had been no preferential treatment nor did he ever take it easy on him because of their family name.

  Kit liked to think he was better for it.

  “Why not Fang?” Aidra asked.

  That was enough to spark a smile. “I need him for something else. Besides, despite my role, this is still Uilleam’s show, and you know how he is.”

  Shrugging and trying very carefully to keep her face blank, Aidra said, “Just wondering.”

  Despite the fact that she and Fang were together, she never mixed her role as Kit’s righthand with her relationship with the Wild Bunch member.

  “Everything is going according to plan, though,” she said thoughtfully as she checked the time.

  Kit had gone over the plan dozens of times with Uilleam over the last few weeks, making sure every variable was accounted for, and even those that weren’t. It wasn’t just that they were attempting to bring Carmen down—and finally giving Kit the chance to put a bullet in the woman’s brain—but he also had to tread carefully to ensure Elias was none the wiser.

  And by the end of it, if all went according to plan, Uilleam would be able to see an end to the man as well.

  It was only a matter of time.

  Out the corner of his eye, Kit could just see Agustín Contreras speaking candidly with another police detective, and unlike the two who were questioning Carmen and Ariana, this one didn’t seem nearly as pleasant.

  While the extent of Agustín’s business practices was unknown to the LAPD, like more organized groups, his tattoos told a story—one that spoke of his life of crime and death.

  Kit had never cared much for the other man one way or the other, but Uilleam had thought he could prove useful, so instead of ensuring that he was out of the picture, he wanted to bring him in further.

  Kit still wasn’t sure if the move would prove fruitful or not.

  Once the detective walked away, and not without a suspicious backward glance at the cartel leader, Agustín’s gaze immediately came to Kit.

  It baffled him how willfully blind the Rivera women were. Had it been Luna being questioned by anyone, Kit would have gone to her first before anyone, but Agustín didn’t seem to care about Ariana any more than she cared about him.

  Despite the life he lived, Kit had never thought of marrying for advantage—especially when the advantage wasn’t worth the headache he would have to put up with.

  “Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?” Agustín asked the moment he was within hearing distance, keeping his voice low.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t you? It seems I’m the only one surprised by the fat man’s death,” Agustín said with a careless wave to the doors the coroner had gone out of .

  Kit offered a careless shrug. “I’m used to death.”

  “As we all are, but that doesn’t explain why she isn’t.”

  This time, he gestured to Carmen with a tilt of his head, drawing Kit’s attention to the detectives who had seemed to reach the end of their questions.

  “You give her too much credit.”

  Agustín still didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t question it further. “Perhaps, I did.”

  Once they were all free to leave, they didn’t venture out the front but rather went out an alternate exit where two SUVs awaited them. While Agustín said his goodbyes to Ariana, Kit and Aidra climbed into the back of the truck in front, waiting until Carmen and Ariana had joined them before pulling off.

  Carmen was careful to keep her composure, at least until they were a few miles away from the theater and there were no cameras around to spy on her.

  Her anger rushed to the forefront as she brushed her hands over her dress in disgust. “Fucking Kingmaker. He did this on purpose!” It was clear that she meant the blood staining the front of her dress that Kit knew would never come out. “Pero qui más suedes esperar de un perro—but what more can you expect from a dog?”

  Even though the insult wasn’t aimed at him directly, it still rubbed him the wrong way—that had been his mother’s favorite insult for him, after all.

  Covertly, Aidra touched his leg with her own, a silent reminder that he could not do what he was picturing in his head. It wasn’t time yet.

  But he couldn’t fight his compulsion to ask, “Are you ready to be put down like one?”

  Kit, despite his anger, had spoken in Welsh, knowing that she was unfamiliar with the language and rather enjoyed the look of confusion on her face.

  He didn’t think he had ever despised anyone as much as he did this woman—perhaps his own mother, but thankfully, she was dead and no longer around to annoy him.

  But even as the woman was threatening to destroy the calm he felt, he couldn’t help thinking of Luna.

  Su pequeña luna.

  His little moon.

  Weeks had passed since he had last seen her—since he was close enough to touch her.

  While he had gone longer without being in the same room as her—or at least long enough that she wasn’t desperately trying to get away from him or making her anger known—once he had gotten another taste of her in what had felt like too long back in New York, it was no longer enough to see her at a distance.

  But he had promised he would fix this, that he would right the wrongs he had committed against her. And until he did, he wasn’t allowing himself to have her, no matter how desperately he craved her next to him.

  Soon.

  “What did you say?” Carmen asked, her voice dangerously low as she drew him from his thoughts.

  “I asked about the terms of your contract with the Kingmaker,” Kit answered smoothly, ignoring the twitch of Aidra’s lips since she knew that hadn’t been at all what he’d said. “Considering you went behind my back for a favor with the man, I’m not aware o
f what all you promised him in return for this … favor.”

  Her smile was cold as she folded her hands in her lap, sitting up primly. “Afraid that you’re next?”

  Kit returned that smile. “Hardly.”

  Carmen’s bravado faltered in the face of his ease. He had to wonder how anyone found the woman threatening when she sought out others to do her dirty work. Then again, he had to remember she had an army, scores of men willing to do whatever she asked.

  But he had an army as well, and his was far better trained.

  “This was it,” she said, finally answering his inquiry.

  “And what does he expect in return?” Kit asked—though he already knew the answer to this question, it was all in whether she was going to fulfill the terms of the deal that mattered to him.

  Carmen blew out a breath, her gaze briefly drifting to her daughter who hadn’t said a word since they’d started off. “He wants me to end my relationship with the Contreras Cartel.”

  Meaning, she would not only have to void whatever deal Agustín had in place with Caesar, but she would also have to cancel the engagement between her daughter and the cartel leader.

  “That’s not smart.”

  And if he didn’t give her any other advice, this bit was the truth.

  Despite what she thought of the young cartel member, she didn’t need to cross him. He still had a lot to prove, and from Kit’s understanding of the way his cartel worked, he would have to make an example of Carmen if she decided to go back on their deal.

  “I know that,” Carmen snapped, glaring at him as though he were completely obtuse. “If he chooses to fulfill his end of the bargain without waiting for me to fulfill mine, then that’s his error, is it not?”

  Kit shrugged, not offering a response.

  Because what he didn’t tell her was she might have been making a mistake with Agustín, but she was making an enemy if she chose to cross Uilleam.

  But on that, he kept his mouth shut.

  That was exactly what he wanted.

  “As long as you have a plan in place,” Kit said, glancing down at his watch.