It was a name he had only ever offered her.
Because she loved him, and he hadn’t just wanted her to love the new version he had created once he escaped his hell—he wanted her to love all of him.
In those last moment of helplessness, she had called out for him … hoping he would save her.
“You’re not going to die because you took her from me,” Fang told the man as he raised his hatchet, the metal gleaming in the dim light. “You’re dying because you made her weak, and she would have hated you for that.”
He swung before he meant to, the edge of the hatchet coming down as Fang watched with some satisfaction as it sank through the man’s flesh like butter.
His screams made Fang’s ears twitch—his struggles only making it easier for him to dislodge his weapon.
He didn’t stop swinging, not even after the man’s cries ceased and hardly anything was left to tear apart.
He didn’t stop until he couldn’t feel his arm anymore.
He didn’t let the hatchet drop from his hand until someone was pulling it from him and a powerful arm pulled him away from the table.
Tăcut.
The loyal fucking bastard.
The one who’d refused to let Fang do this alone though he hadn’t wanted the help.
It didn’t matter that Fang was soaked in blood, or that he was close to a mental breakdown because of the coppery scent that was hanging heavy in the air, Tăcut guided him from the room without a word.
“I think I need a drink,” he said to the silent one, clapping him on the back with a bloody hand. “I want to forget about tonight.”
Fang wanted nothing more than to drown in his grief until nothing was left of him, and maybe tomorrow he would wake up, and this would all just be a terrible fucking dream.
But as he left the room, finding Invictus and Thanatos waiting on the other side of the door, he knew it was all too real.
And he couldn’t do anything about it.
“You know,” Fang said once they were outside, the fresh air like a balm to his soul. “I should probably help feed him to the pigs. I made those hungry little bastards a promise.”
Tăcut merely shook his head.
That could have meant a variety of things in Tăcut-speak.
No, he was done for the night and needed to disappear for a while.
No, they had it under control, and he had done enough.
Either way, Fang knew that this was it for him—he’d come to the end of the line.
Chapter Nineteen
Parked some yards away from the farm, Luna watched as Tăcut loaded Fang into the back of a truck then looked back in their direction, the only indication that he knew they were there.
“Is he going to be okay?” Luna whispered, even knowing that Tăcut and the others couldn’t hear her.
Kit’s resigned sound made Luna hurt for him. Despite his cold exterior, she knew how much he loved those closest to him.
He hadn’t just lost Aidra, but Fang and the rest of The Wild Bunch—though if everything went as she hoped, it wouldn’t be for very long.
Kit was silent for a long while as he stared after The Wild Bunch, watching as they got rid of the bloody body parts then climbed into the truck and took off. “It won’t hurt forever.”
Once they were clear, he turned the key, the engine purring softly. He looked back at her, his hand coming down to wrap around her thigh.
“Let’s go home.”
“I think I’m going to miss that bungalow,” Luna said some hours later, staring out the windows of the jet at the twinkling lights below. “I liked being that close to the ocean and smelling the salt in the air.”
Despite it all, she had found peace there, and unlike the château that held a myriad of memories, the bungalow only held the good kind.
“That’s what I was hoping for,” Kit responded with a glance in her direction. “It’s still ours, you know. I bought it for you.”
She had assumed as much, but it was nice to hear it all the same. “Any other surprises you want to tell me about?” Luna asked, shifting so her legs draped across his lap.
“Where would the fun be in telling you?”
“Well, it’ll be fun for me because I’ll know.”
Kit might have smiled, but he didn’t offer anything further.
“And my place in Vegas?”
“What of it?”
“If I’m going back to New York with you—”
“If?” he asked, making a show of looking around at their surroundings.
Luna rolled her eyes. “Do you really want to argue semantics?”
“Do you?”
“Fine. When we get back there, what about my condo?”
She hadn’t given it much thought after their surprise trip there, but now that they were heading home, she couldn’t help but wonder about it.
“I imagine it’ll still be there should you, or we, choose to visit.” His smile grew a little wider. “I do own the building after all.”
Right … she had forgotten that little detail.
“And The Wild Bunch? Will they be there when we land?”
Kit lost his smile, his gaze falling on his phone and its black screen. “Doubtful.”
It was bittersweet, going back to a place she loved though it would be missing the people she loved. And Aidra—the thought of her not being there and handling things hurt the most. She had been such a staple in their lives that Luna wondered if it would ever feel the same.
Luna fell silent for the rest of the journey, busying herself with thoughts of anything other than how drastically everything had changed.
By the time they were arriving, the château looming ahead as it once had the first time she had ever ventured to this place, the melancholy that had suddenly gripped hold of her eased a little bit.
Things wouldn’t be the same, no, but she was very good at rebuilding.
“You know, I don’t think you’ve actually carried me over the threshold,” Luna remarked thoughtfully.
After their rather short honeymoon, she had jumped right into work, and with Uilleam’s shooting soon after, there hadn’t been much time to bask in post-marital bliss.
Dropping their bags by the door, Kit came back to her, and without a word, he lifted her up effortlessly and carried her up the stairs and into the house. “Welcome home, Luna.”
She was glad to be back.
Three days later …
Luna paused in the entryway of the near empty coffee shop, surprised by the lack of customers. While it was only nine in the morning, this place was usually packed with early commuters, especially with the law firm just next door.
But despite the lack of customers, nothing else seemed out of the ordinary with Charlie, the owner and coffee connoisseur, standing behind the counter with his white apron tied at his waist.
He smiled as she approached, polishing one of the oversized mugs he kept behind the counter. “Want your usual?”
“Yep,” she said, pulling a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket.
As he went about fixing her order, Luna checked her phone—which was ultimately pointless since she had no bars, she found—but her gaze was drawn from the device at the sound of clicking heels.
“I’ve only ever ordered from a Starbucks,” a softly accented voice said. “You never know the company you might find in these smaller establishments.”
Belladonna.
Luna had started to think she hadn’t been real, that the woman she’d met with was a stand-in, especially with Kit’s suspicions about her, but not much had changed over the last few years.
Dark hair still spilled over her shoulders, and a hint of mischievousness still existed in her kind features.
Manhattan might have been home to millions of people, but the city felt small once you had lived there long enough, and Luna didn’t think it was any coincidence that they had run into each other here.
And if she had to guess, it was because of Belladonna that t
his place was so empty.
“Have you come to finish what your lackey started?” Luna asked, gauging the distance between them, then around the room—if she had any security with her, Luna didn’t see them.
“I’ve come to offer an apology,” she answered, folding her hands in front of her. “While he did work for me, I thought I made it clear that you were not to be harmed. You know, it’s quite hard to find good help these days.”
Elias had said something similar before he attempted to have her beaten to death, but his ramblings hadn’t made sense at the time, and she’d believed by the end, he had gone a little crazy.
Now, she wasn’t so sure.
“I didn’t think I was that special.”
“Come now, you have to know that isn’t true. I’ve not once seen the Runehart brothers work in tandem for anything—yet they did so for you.”
They were interrupted by Charlie setting two to-go cups on the counter. Belladonna accepted hers with a smile, tipping the cup to red-painted lips.
“Besides, I would hate if something were to happen to you through no fault of your own.”
“Because my mother used me as a pawn …” Luna said, trailing off, vaguely remembering what Belladonna had told her all those years ago when they first met.
“No one should play God, but that’s not why I’m here. I thought we could go for a little drive.”
Though she wrapped her hand around her cup, bringing it close to her chest, Luna didn’t move. “Why would I go anywhere with you?”
“Because if you thought I truly meant you harm, I’m sure you would have used one of those daggers you’ve become notorious for. Yet, here we stand.” Belladonna smiled as she glanced down at her nails—black, and shaped to resemble claws. “Besides, a part of you, no matter how small that part is, trusts me.”
She didn’t admit it aloud, nor did she particularly want to admit it to herself, but Belladonna was right.
It didn’t matter that Kit was suspicious of her, or that her motivations for aiding Luna were murky at best, Luna did trust her.
Even as insane as the thought was.
Belladonna turned on her heel. “Let’s go out back, shall we? The security your husband hired is waiting out front, and while he’s doing a rather poor job of it, I’d rather not make a mess should he attempt to stop us.”
Even as she reluctantly followed behind the woman, her gaze went back out the front where she knew her bike was still parked. How long would it take, she wondered, before he realized she was no longer in the shop?
A Bentley was parked behind the cafe, exhaust billowing from the tail pipe. Upon first glance, Luna was starting to think that ‘white’ was Belladonna’s thing.
“Where are we going?” she asked once she was settled in the back, Belladonna sliding in after her.
“We’re visiting an old friend of mine in the country. She has a place more suitable for what I have in mind,” Belladonna said, her gaze on the passing buildings as they drove out of the city.
They rode in silence for a while longer, only the slight hum of the engine filling the space before Luna asked, “What’s your vendetta against Kit?”
A corner of the woman’s mouth tipped up. “I have no quarrel with your husband, I assure you.”
Luna waited a beat before asking, “The Kingmaker, then?”
Belladonna didn’t answer for several seconds, her expression unreadable. “If I did, you would be the last person I’d tell, considering your alliances. An admirable trait, really, your loyalty to Uilleam. He does have so very few that are.”
“You were close to him then, right?”
“What ever would make you think so?”
But the question was asked in a way that told Luna the woman was humoring her. “You used his name.”
And it was rare that anyone did with such easy familiarity.
“Though he’s loathed to admit it, there are many that know his name, but out of fear of him, they won’t use it. I, on the other hand, feel no such fear.”
But she hadn’t actually answered the question …
Though, in a way, her non answer told Luna that she was right.
“Explain something to me,” she said, drumming her fingers against her knee. “Considering what you know about him, why did you think telling me about what he’d done would hurt him?”
Uilleam hadn’t denied it, nor did he try to cast blame on anyone else when she’d confronted him with the truth. He hadn’t even been upset that she knew about it, but rather that she was close to learning of Kit’s involvement.
“You misunderstand. I didn’t offer you the truth to hurt him—I offered you the truth because I know what it’s like to have your life manipulated by Uilleam. I learned later … and paid a dire price.”
She might not have known the details, but Luna believed that.
Uilleam was notorious for manipulating events to his own benefit—that was what he did best. And if she had learned one thing about the man, it was that he didn’t care who he had to hurt, kill, or destroy to get what he wanted.
“What did he do to you?” Luna asked softly, almost afraid to know the answer.
“Oh, there’s no need for me to delve into ancient history,” Belladonna said with a slight wave of her hand. “Just know that those I deemed responsible will be held accountable.”
That was a threat if she had ever heard one, and from the way she was carefully orchestrating every move she made, Luna didn’t doubt that the woman would pay each one of them back in kind.
Shifting, Belladonna turned to better face her. “You were just an innocent girl when you were taken. Back then, there were fewer checks and balances in the world we live in. Uilleam, if you can imagine, was far more arrogant than he is now, but time does that you.”
“Or because he lost someone he loved,” Luna dared to say, wanting to see her reaction.
She tried to see in her what Uilleam had described of Karina. Belladonna was beautiful, as Karina had probably been, but there was a stark difference between the women’s personalities.
During Uilleam’s drunken ramble, he had described Karina as soft, docile even, with an inherent goodness that had drawn him to her in the first place.
While Belladonna seemed mild-mannered on the surface, something else stirred beneath the surface.
“Perhaps so,” Belladonna finally answered, her expression never changing. “Grief can bring even the strongest of men to their knees.”
“Is that your plan? To hurt him more?”
“Your focus is too narrow, Luna. You only see what’s in front of you as opposed to the bigger picture. Consider me an advocate for the forgotten and the wronged. Uilleam wasn’t the first bully nor will he be the last.”
Luna didn’t get a chance to respond before they were turning onto a dirt road and driving through the trees lining either side of the road. Once they reached the clearing, the driver killed the engine and opened the door for them.
A modest house sat a few yards away and further behind it was a barn that looked well-maintained.
They were hardly halfway across the gravel driveway before a woman appeared on the threshold of the front door, her expression neutral as she came forward.
The multiple piercings in her ear glittered as the sun hit them. She was taller than Belladonna, closer to Luna’s height, with a pixie-cut that was bleached a pale shade of blonde.
She spared Luna the briefest of glances before addressing Belladonna. “He’s waiting out in the pens.”
He?
Luna could only wonder who the man could be as they were led around the side of the house and toward the barn. The possibilities of who it could have been were endless, but once they were inside, and she got her first look, she should have known.
“My dearest Elias, my apologies for having kept you waiting,” Belladonna said as she approached, carefully removing the leather gloves she wore.
Bruised, and slightly bloodied, Elias Harrington was huddled nake
d in a cage, the once ever-present smile of his a distant memory as fear and anxiety showed itself on his face.
But it wasn’t just Belladonna he seemed to fear, not when his gaze kept darting across the barn to a shadowed corner where a man stood with his arms folded across his chest.
He didn’t move nor did he speak as he watched them. He just stood there … expression never changing.
Seeing him made the tiny hairs along her arms stand up.
“Luna arrived a bit later than I anticipated,” Belladonna went on, dragging her back to their conversation.
While she had never doubted that their meeting was intentional, she hadn’t expected the odds of it being planned to this degree.
“I’ve always been loyal to you, but you’ve gone too far,” Elias said. Though he tried to inject as much strength into his words as possible, Luna could hear the thread of uncertainty.
“When you approached me about joining my organization, I gave you one rule, did I not?” Belladonna asked.
“Yes, but—”
“What was that rule?”
“Bella—”
“The rule!” she suddenly snapped, her eyes blazing as she glared down at the man with such hatred that it was a wonder the two had ever worked together at all.
“Never cross you,” Elias answered, barely above a whisper.
“I understood your need to test me—you’re a man, after all, and as you’ve said before, you don’t believe there’s a place for women in this business. But I have rules for a reason, and you broke every one of them.”
“Whatever I’ve done,” Elias said, trying desperately to appeal to her, “surely I can make it right.”
“It’s far too late for that,” Belladonna said. “I excused your deals that were contrary to my vision. I allowed those pathetic excuses for men to work under your employ so long as you kept them in check, yet you couldn’t manage that.”
“I—”
Belladonna raised her hand, a silent command for him to stop speaking. “And what did you give me in return?”
Elias remained quiet.
Calavera. (Den of Mercenaries #4) Page 24