by Carrie Hogle
“Reina wasn’t raised in our environment. She’s a bystander unwillingly pulled into this.”
The judge looked at him oddly, “That’s where you’re wrong son. You were coerced; Reina made a very clear choice, and everyone on the council is well aware.”
Every time James thought he had a clear perspective, Reina threw off his equilibrium. His world was so wrapped up in her, he began to question whether he was the only person not seeing things clearly, or if he was the only one with the entire picture. Either way he was once again backed into a corner, the difference being he’d be putting Reina in the position to fight her way out alongside him. Although she’d made him promise partnership, he was certain that this wasn’t what she had in mind. He prayed that she would forgive him if he made the decision without her.
James walked into the meeting with shielded eyes while inside he was seething. Every ounce of control was strained trying to keep his inner demons from raining down hell on everyone in the room. Smug men with hungry gazes and he loathed all of them. Formal introductions were made, a mere technicality considering James had met each of them on previous occasions. Proceedings got underway, money flow, requests, new member candidates, regulations, drug running, arms dealings, jobs completed, attorneys needed, and favors owed were all discussed. While they conferred on syndicate matters James’ mind was blazing with the awareness that they’d sat in a similar room and casually debated taking what was his. They’d discussed Reina like any other diminutive problem. They’d had her watched, followed, and had invaded her privacy in a way that Reina would find abhorrent. They’d violated her personal space without her knowledge or the opportunity to defend herself.
By the time the meeting was coming to an end his predatory instinct to protect and vindicate his mate has seized control of his rationale.
“Before you go, there’s another matter that needs to be finalized…”
All eyes turned to his expectantly, and while he was visualizing their untimely demises, the words poured from his mouth.
“I’m executively appointing Reina as my heir.”
At first the room was eerily still and James bristled with aggression waiting for the storm of opposition brewing in the atmosphere. It didn’t take long; one man spoke, opening the floodgate of protests.
“Enough,” James commanded in a tone that brooked no argument. “It would seem that you have already forgotten the exact nature of my position on this council.”
The Carnifex spoke up seemingly unperturbed by James’ tone or the rage radiating from him. Connor Jensen was an imposing figure. Although he was a little over six feet and all muscle, it wasn’t his size or his CIA status that was most intimidating. It was the continuous tension in his frame that could be felt brewing beneath a cool aloofness. Nothing seemed to get under his skin. His dark hair served to magnify the stark contrast to his glacial blue eyes. Darkening with deep emotion, his eyes were his only giveaway that he felt emotion at all.
“I believe what the council is trying to express, rather poorly, is that this is unexpected, not to mention against protocol.”
“Yet it doesn’t so against syndicate law. Because of her name and position in my household, the role is hers by default.”
The council watched the exchange in silence, relishing and assessing the play of power.
“That being so...the council has never seen fit to appoint the role to a female.”
“Nevertheless, it is not written as syndicate law.”
All eyes turned to The Judge as he spoke up, “I second.”
The words were quiet but authoritative, the friction a palpable pressure in the room. Regardless of objections, The Judge’s phrase sealed it as final. Connor’s gaze shifted between the two men before settling back on James. His tone remained detached, but there was no mistaking his warning.
“You do realize that she may well be declared unfit.”
“I’m fully aware of procedure. Perhaps you should realize that no amount of intel will ever give you the full representation.”
The Carnifex nodded in understanding as the two continued to stare at one another. The only true show of emotion flared in his eyes at James’ next words.
“You are all dismissed.”
James waited until the room cleared before resting his fists on the table and releasing deep breaths. He’d just made a decision for Reina that was irreversible. The council held fierce loyalty to the syndicate, but he’d personally created powerful enemies.
Reina hadn’t meant to fall asleep. As the night wore on she’d laid on the bed with a book, only to wake hours later at the sound of James’ voice. Bits and pieces of conversation between James and Charles drifted to her as she shuffled towards the bedroom door. Both men shifted their attention to her as she approached. His eyes were still guarded, but she gave James a small smile. He glanced down for only a few moments but it sent a chill of uneasiness down her spine.
“Mark and Charles are going to work on advancing your training.”
“My training?”
He gave her a look of authority as if he was anticipating resistance.
“Charles will expand your hand-to-hand combat skills and Mark will help you with your Marksmanship.”
She couldn’t help the sarcastic look of disbelief that crossed her face, but grew serious when James scowled at her.
“Why?”
James clenched his jaw. The tension in his body language she could handle, it was the fact that she couldn’t read his eyes that worried her.
“So that I can be certain that you are fully capable of defending yourself.”
While she was sure there was more behind it, she couldn’t fault his logic. Experience taught her that if he thought she’d need to be defended, it was best to err on the side of caution.
“Ok…”
James raised his eyebrows and looked at her like maybe she was a body snatcher. She shrugged back at him with her best, “what,” look.
He turned half way back to Charles, “We have a gathering in three weeks.”
“Understood,” Charles replied, regarded Reina with a nod, and walked away.
When James met her eyes his guard had been replaced with a look of remorse. She reached out to him instinctively offering comfort.
“What is it,” she asked softly.
He gave a shake of his head, “I love you.”
“James…”
Instead of answering her question he buried his face in her neck.
“Say that you forgive me,” he whispered.
She pulled back to look at his face, his demeanor causing her heart to beat frantically.
“Forgive you for what?”
He hesitated and she didn’t press, deep in her mind she didn’t want to know.
“For drawing you into this...for bringing you here.”
She laid her hands on his face, hoping the contact would help bring him out of whatever dark place his mind had wandered.
“James...it was my choice. I chose to come here. I chose us over all obstacles.”
He looked at her strangely, as if he had held a gem up to the sun and discovered a new facet, but also with a touch of disquiet like a wild animal that had scented a change in the air. Reina had never seen the look before, which made her uncertain of how to react. She did the only thing she could think of, and rubbed her lips across his.
“Come back to me…” she persuaded.
He attempted to resist, “Reina…”
“Please,” she persisted running her hands down his back. “Please love me.”
His eyes were still torn, but he gave into her. Whatever danger was lying in wait was temporarily set aside as they found solace in one another and let the world fall away.
Chapter 6
Mark and Charles’ teaching styles were as different as their personalities. Standing 6’2” with brown hair and blue eyes, Mark was patient, talkative, and joked off Reina’s sarcasm. He’d been there for Reina when James had been in t
he hospital, had witnessed her at her most vulnerable, and it had created easiness between them.
“I heard you were here to witness my amazing shooting skills,” she joked as she entered the range.
Mark laughed at her shaking his head, “We are going to perfect your aim, but since you do already have proficient skills we’re going to work on this instead.”
Reina looked at him like he was crazy as he handed her a small, double edged throwing knife.
“The men in this house have obviously lost their minds,” she mumbled under her breath. “Why would I need to throw knives? You have met me...probably not the safest choice…”
“With the right skill, knives can be a very powerful weapon. They’re easier to conceal, and in some situations, faster than drawing a firearm. Also, unlike a gun, you can retrieve your ammo.”
“Retrieve…” she trailed off as her creative imagination gave her vivid visuals of not only throwing a knife into someone’s skin, but the mess of pulling it back out.
She stuck out her tongue with a grimace, “Well that’s… ummm… promising…”
“Reina, if you’re in a position that you need to defend yourself with a weapon, a recyclable source of ammunition could save your life.”
She couldn’t argue, although the idea of having any luck was unlikely, she never backed down from a challenge.
“Ok...but only so I can pretend to be a badass.”
He shook his head and laughed with a twinkle in his eyes.
“We don’t have time for beginner blades or holds. These blades are the smallest and most concealable. He demonstrated how to hold the knife between thumb and index finger.
“We’re going to use the pinch grip; if you can master it, it’ll give you a rapid throw and a forceful impact.”
“Ok,” she took a deep breath, “Show me.”
Reina spent hours adjusting her stance and throw. Hours blended into days, an endless cycle of nicked fingers and the clang of knives smacking the floor. With each bounce off the wood she became more determined to make the damn thing stick. The first time she actually hit the target she felt a triumphant rush, almost addicting, and once she discovered the flow she not only began hitting the target consistently, but also with increased speed and force. It wasn’t without consequence; until her body became adjusted, she had days when she could barely move her arm. She never admitted to Mark when she was in pain, but when it became unbearable she distracted him with conversation.
“So...we’re together all the time and...I know almost nothing about you. Tell me something.”
“I’m an Aquarius, I like beer, pasta, and long walks on the beach…”
Reina gave him her best sarcastic look, “Really?”
“Yep,” he laughed.
“Tell me something real...like...have you ever been married?”
He shook his head, “Nope.”
“Ever come close?”
“Not really. I spent a lot of time deployed...didn’t seem right.”
Reina nodded in understanding, “Do you date? I mean...like I said, you seem to be with me most of the time…”
“I find time…”
“So you do date,” she joked.
“Well, I’m not celibate,” he winked at her and she blushed.
“Fair enough.”
She hesitated to ask, but Charles rarely spoke unless spoken to and even at that point he seemed to use the least amount of words possible.
“And Charles? What’s his story?”
In an instant a shadow passed over his face and he became guarded.
“That’s not my story to tell.”
Of course his response made Reina more curious. She was torn between knowing she shouldn’t pry and wanting in on the secret.
“He probably wouldn’t tell me if I asked.”
“No, I doubt that he would...and I suggest you don’t ask.”
“Please tell me,” she prodded. “Who the hell am I going to tell anyway? I don’t exactly have a long list of friends…” she half joked. She had one friend and no idea when she’d see her again.
He must have taken pity on the sadness in her words, because with a sigh he started talking in hushed tones.
“He had a wife and son, years ago…”
“Had,” she prompted when he trailed off.
“Yeah...she always hated that he was military, but it was his career...ya know…”
Mark looked down fiddling with his hands.
“She didn’t want him to re-enlist but he did anyway...he thought he was doing his best to take care of his family...but they ummm...they were killed in an accident while he was deployed. It took days for him to receive the news and get back…”
“Oh God…” she felt a crushing guilt for pushing. “I can’t imagine,” she whispered.
“He took it hard. There were times...I wasn’t sure he’d come out the other side…”
“I’m sorry Mark. I’m sorry I asked.”
He looked up at her and she could see him trying to shake off the memory.
“It is what it is,” he shrugged. We all have darkness somewhere in our past.
“Yeah, I guess we do,” she agreed, trying not to let memories of her own traumas surface.
They shared a look of understanding, and just like that they were back to the easy flow, only this time their friendship had deepened with shared suffering.
Training with Charles was vastly different. Slightly shorter than Mark, but more buff, his buzz cut hair, guarded brown eyes, and quiet watchfulness made him appear less approachable. He was respectful, and at times considerate, but he didn’t participate in witty repartee. He was no nonsense and straight down to business.
“The reality is your opponents are likely to be bigger and stronger than you. Your first line of defense will be to read their body language and anticipate their moves. You already have this skill, so we only need to hone it.”
“If you say so…” she mumbled.
“Reina,” he snapped.
She held up her hands, “No sarcasm, got it.”
He stood there scowling down at her until she felt like a child in trouble.
“Sorry…”
“Reina I’ve watched you. You may not realize it, but you watch, assess, and react in every social situation.”
Yeah...cause I don’t want them in my space, she thought.
“The more you’re around someone, the more instinctual it becomes…”
He must have known she was about to roll her eyes and supply another sarcastic remark, because he stopped her with one sentence.
“James is a prime example.”
She looked down because his words hit home. She’d thought it only natural, but she could read James by a look, or a movement, or even a change in his breathing. When she didn’t speak he continued.
“The thing we need to work on most is disguising your intentions; your eyes give you away.”
She looked at him silently. Once again, she couldn’t deny it. Only on certain occasions did she feel the need to hide what she was thinking.
“You guard them when you’re angry or even upset, but you need to learn how to do it at will.”
“Ok,” she nodded.
They began by going over self-defense techniques that Reina already knew, while Charles gave her pointers and proceeded to knock her on her ass. There was nothing subtle about his approach; he forced her to move and defend, or hit the floor. The faster she became, the harder he knocked her down. When she became skilled enough to dodge or defend most attacks, he used every opportunity to knock her back down before she had the chance to get completely upright, until her anger started to get the best of her. He knelt down in front of her as she gritted her teeth and growled in frustration.
“Reina, your anger is only beneficial if you can focus and control it, otherwise it’s going to make you reckless and get you killed.
She remained silent, didn’t look up, and used the opening to knock him on his ass.
Surprisingly he laughed, “Well played.”
Between the laugh and the compliment she felt a moment of victory.
The next time they met, he told her she was ready to incorporate a weapon. He handed her a t-handled push dagger. While small it seemed deceptively menacing.
“We’ll work with a tactical knife as well, but this is an excellent weapon for you. It’s easy to conceal and simple to incorporate into your normal fighting style. Because of its size, it’ll give you a greater range of movement in close combat and your opponent may not see it coming.
Reina looked up at him with doubt and tried to process the idea of pushing a blade into someone.
He laid his hand over hers, “Listen Reina, using a weapon must always be a conscious decision. You never pull a weapon just to scare someone; you must be fully prepared to use it. You can’t hesitate; you can’t pull back. The difference between life and death may very well be in the strength and placement of your punch. Do you understand me?”
She regarded him seriously and saw true concern in his eyes. Whatever the reason, he seemed to believe that she may actually need to use this tactic.
“I understand,” she replied quietly.
Evidently satisfied with what he saw in her gaze, he nodded, “Good.”
Most of the places to use a push dagger were the same soft spots she’d already been taught to attack. Charles gave her a crude practice version and they proceeded to fight it out, this time with much fewer occasions of Reina on her ass. When she did hit the floor she used it as an advantage to bring him down, as well as get back up with a smile.
Integrating a tactical knife was much the same. They had one weighted and designed specifically for her. She immediately understood why Charles had taught her the push dagger first; the blade length of the tactical knife required a greater range of motion for a puncture wound. They concentrated mainly on how and where to use it as a slashing weapon.