Luporum Cubilia (Regina De Luporum Book 1)

by Carrie Hogle

  Reina simply stared, waiting for him to get on with it.

  He cleared his throat, “I have an official report on the gunman. He was apprehended, but not taken alive.”

  The Judge waited, clearly apprehensive of how Reina was going to respond. She continued to stare at him as fiery wrath began to burn away any good sense she had left.

  “Convenient,” she managed to scoff, without killing the messenger.

  He watched her warily as if she were a cornered wild animal that might attack at any moment.

  “The council is expecting to meet with you,” he continued.

  “I have no desire to speak with the council,” she shrugged.

  “That may be but…” he trailed off as she raised her eyebrows with a look that clearly said he should be careful of his next words. She folded her hands in her lap like a parent practicing patience.

  “Did James not tell you?”

  “Tell me what exactly,” she asked in a deadly quiet tone.

  “Reina...James...James instated you as Imperator…”

  She looked down as he said it. She rubbed her thumb across her fingers and concentrated on breathing while the Judge prattled on about the syndicate casing her.

  He stuttered all over himself, “James’ father marked you as a threat…”

  Blah, blah, blah. As if she were a fool or needed him to defend James’ actions, she thought.

  “That’s enough,” she finally interrupted sternly, looking up long enough for him to understand that he should shut up.

  She looked back down at her hands while the gears began turning in her head. Her pain mixed with fury and she grabbed onto it, began feeding and nurturing it. The anger filled in some of the cracks and gave her something to focus her chaotic mind on.

  “I’ll meet them in three days.”

  Reina met his eyes again, this time with a look clearly stating that he was dismissed. Whether he got the message or not, her security team stepped forward to escort him out. Before he’d stepped through the door she called out to him.

  “One more thing...I want the file on the shooter. All of it…” she paused and glanced at Mark, “I’ll have my team take it from here.”

  The Judge nodded, “Of course. Reina...I am…”

  She cut him off, “Don’t,” she gave him the signal that he could go.

  Everyone filed out except for Charles. When she was certain that everyone was out of earshot she looked up at him, her expression shielded.

  “Did you know about this,” she questioned.

  He regarded her stonily. “Yes,” he answered honestly.

  He paused long enough for it to sink in before he added, “...and so did you.”

  She looked back down at her hands to thoroughly hide her thoughts, but she didn’t deny it. She hadn’t known specifically, but Reina was a well-educated, analytical, and logical girl. As soon as she’d started learning about the inner workings of the syndicate, she’d realized that they would never let her go. When James had come home from his first council meeting and made arrangements for her training, she’d suspected. When he’d looked at her with that familiar look in his eyes, she’d known. He’d been compelled to make a decision for her safety, and the options were limited. He had been so torn about choices he was forced to make, he’d kept watching her as if at any moment she’d think him a monster. She was afraid that if he’d said the words that it would have been continuously prevalent between them. She hadn’t wanted it between them, so she’d made it go away. It wouldn’t have changed her current position. She was expected to lead an unscrupulous group of men that were responsible for crushing her world and taking what she loved most.

  “So what’s your plan,” Charles asked.

  “It would appear that I’m taking over the council,” she replied without looking up.

  “And after that…”

  She met his eyes, “Vengeance,” she replied matter of factly.

  He stared at her without changing expression. She couldn’t decipher what he was thinking, so she continued.

  “We’ll need a team for the meeting, perhaps twenty men...armed…”

  “I’ll get everything in order.”

  As he turned to leave Reina added, “Have someone acquire protective floor covering.”

  He looked back over his shoulder with the same non-committal expression.

  “You can never be too careful,” she shrugged.

  He stared at her for a moment, but he nodded without question.

  Reina owned a few specially designed holsters; her security team would be fully armed, so she opted for the one that allowed her to carry the most knives. She was highly proficient with her firearm, but knives were a more personal form of attack, and represented a dangerously brave power. Push daggers were readily available in sheaths below her breasts, throwing dagger lined the lower half of her spine, and her tactical knife was sheathed at the small of her back. Her weapons were lightweight and the harness was designed for freedom of movement. She strapped push daggers to each wrist for good measure.

  Mark and Charles walked in front of her, guns in hand, while the rest of her team followed close behind. Their footsteps echoed eerily in unison as they approached the meeting room, and Reina reveled in the idea that they could hear her coming. They had grossly underestimated how they had affected her life, without a second thought, and she was fully prepared to rain down hell on them. Armed guards halted her progress at the door.

  “Weapons are not permitted.”

  She scoffed, “Under present circumstances, I believe I’ll do as I like.” She paused, wrapped her hand around the handle of her tactical knife, and cocked her head to the side.

  “Are you going to stop me?”

  Whether it was the threat of violence, or the reckless abandon in her eyes, they moved aside. Mark and Charles took up station on either side of the door, a few men stayed at her back, and the rest of her crew filed in to line the room. The council members were stunned, outraged, and obviously nervous, the reaction made Reina’s inner devil giddy, or bloodthirsty, depending on perspective. She placed herself at the end of the table furthest from the Carnifex so she wouldn’t kill him just for opening his mouth, but he was shockingly silent. She addressed the council, without giving them a chance to speak.

  “To those of you that had a hand in assigning me this position, I extend my gratitude. I realize that you may have assumed that I would be an easier target, or perhaps you thought you’d find a loophole to be rid of me. I assure you that I intend to not only maintain my seat, but to use every asset to its full extent.”

  She sighed deeply, making eye contact with each of them briefly.

  “If any of you aided in the murder of my husband, now is your chance to ask for mercy. This courtesy will not be offered again,” she stated with controlled menace, and paused while they looked around at each other.

  “No, very well,” she questioned mockingly. “James was the Imperator, therefore you may continue to address me as Regina. All meetings are cancelled until further notice. If you are in need of my council, you may schedule an appointment.”

  As if on cue, two men stepped to her side as she headed for the door. She turned at the threshold and turned back to the group.

  “If any of you feel that you can somehow take this position from me, then by all means. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  She turned and exited dismissively, her team following her out in unison. As they retraced their steps back down the hallway, the footfalls of men she trusted alongside her, the combination of pain, anger, and adrenaline rushed through her veins; as powerful as any drug.

  Chapter 13

  The laptop was open and papers were laid out across the desk, but Reina was absently rubbing her thumb across the paw prints on her inner wrist. She still wasn’t sleeping more than an hour or two at a time, and while she would never admit it, she was feeling the effects. She had moments when her brain became unfocused and the memories would come flooding
in. Most of the time she could keep herself busy enough to avoid it, but once they started she’d find herself drowning in torment and fighting for control. Only the darkness of her inner mind and the burning desire for revenge kept her relatively sane, although sane was likely an overstatement. Realistically it was the only thing keeping her from being lost, overwhelmed, and longing for death.

  For weeks they had been trying to track the gunman back to his handler, but it was proving difficult. Whoever had orchestrated the hit was obviously powerful enough to cover their tracks well. Reina split her time between training, maintaining syndicate business dealings, and tracking their movements. If anyone stepped out of line the Carnifex would be hearing from her, before he ever had a chance to force her hand. She was eager for a justified reason to dispose of him, and she wouldn’t be allowing him to think he had the right to coerce her decisions. If something needed to be handled, she’d be more than happy to issue the order to him.

  Mark and Charles interrupted her random musings with a knock on the open office door.

  “Reina...we’ve tracked the shooter.”

  Mark’s words instantly caused her shredded heart to beat a dangerously fast rhythm. Each beat dripped with pain and hate, but it gave her temporary feeling of actually being alive. Charles spoke up as he handed her a file.

  “The hit was arranged by Vincent DiVario.”

  “The arms dealer?”

  Reina looked through the file. The information was valid, but the DiVario family had always been extremely loyal to the syndicate. There had never been an instance of them trying to act outside of syndicate law.

  “There’s no logical motive for them to make a move like this unless someone higher up gave the order.”

  Charles nodded, “That was our conclusion as well.”

  Essentially it only meant that Reina needed to extract the information from him, he’d already signed his death warrant. Even if he could justify an unsanctioned kill, he’d been responsible for taking James from her; there would be no forgiveness.

  “Mark, please send a team to retrieve Mr. DiVario. I believe we’ll include the Carnifex as well. Make sure they are prepared, should they encounter resistance, but he arrives here alive. Understood?”

  “Understood.”

  As Mark made his exit, Reina addressed Charles.

  “I’ll be receiving our guests here, have someone roll out the welcome mat, if you would.”

  He nodded and started to walk away but paused halfway across the room.

  “Reina...whatever happens here...you can’t hesitate. However it plays out...your actions today could very well decide your future survival…”

  “Don’t worry,” she interrupted, “hesitation is not on the menu.”

  Whether it was the burning fervor in her eyes or the yawning emptiness behind it, he seemed almost reluctant to leave her alone. Whatever he eventually sensed from her made him turn and follow orders without another word.

  Reina sat at her desk silent and dispassionate as she watched security roll plastic across the floor. She thoroughly embraced icy numbness to protect herself. The only thing that seemed to penetrate it was the dull ache she felt with each breath, the constant reminder of emotional injury that she could never completely dispel. The ever present pain that urged her to seek remedy, which pushed her to alleviate the cause.

  The Carnifex arrived first, accompanied into the room by Charles. She was grateful that Charles was present as a bit of a grounding force. She didn’t have proof of the Carnifex’s guilt, but she hated him with a fiery passion, and her control was tenuous at best. She stood and rounded to the front of her desk as the Carnifex hesitated at the edge of the plastic. When he met her eyes she smiled, but had no doubt that a little bit of crazy was shining through. One wrong move and she’d gladly put him in his place, or remove him from his position, whichever struck her as the most efficient in the moment. She gestured to the front left of her as her intercom buzzed and she was informed that the main guest had arrived. The Carnifex stepped in, the plastic rustling beneath his expensive shoes. Vincent DiVario was lead in by Mark, at gunpoint. Security placed themselves in strategic locations about the room.

  Vincent DiVario was in his late forties, tall, dark hair, and dark eyes. As he was made to walk into the room he was stuttering questions in his Italian New Yorker accent. Reina was looking right at him but was seeing flashes of her love, bleeding onto her hands. Through his voice she could hear the tink of glass echoing in her head, and her mind cracked a little. Her normal logic and reasoning skills were burned away by the violence rushing through her veins.

  “Shut up,” she said, with so much vehemence that the room became instantly silent.

  She glanced to Mark, who had stepped to the side of DiVario in order to keep his gun on him without putting Reina in the line of fire.

  “Report…”

  “No casualties.”

  She looked back to DiVario, trying to find enough focus to get the information she needed before causing irreparable damage.

  She took a deep breath, “I’m going to ask you a few questions. I highly suggest that you answer them correctly the first time. Do you understand?”

  “Yes...but I don’t…”

  Before he could finish she had pulled a throwing dagger and smiled with a twisted satisfaction as it careened past his face and stuck in the wall. Just the sound of his voice grated down her spine and caused a stir among the spiders in her brain.

  “I will ask and you will answer...are we clear?”

  “Yes Re…Regina,” he stammered.

  “Why did you have my husband killed,” she asked, point blank.

  Her instincts focused in on all of his nervous tells, the twitching of his hands, the raising of his brow, and the fine sheen of sweat that broke across his skin. Her eyes narrowed, knowing he was going to lie before he’d opened his mouth.

  “I don’t know what you mean...I had nothing to do with…”

  She pulled a push dagger out of its sheath as she took small, deliberate steps forward.

  “You must realize that I’m already aware that you did. Your lies only insult me. So...you’re going to tell me the truth...or I am going to hurt you, and then we’ll begin again…”

  DiVario swallowed and wiped his hands down the sides of his pants.

  “Why did you kill my husband?”

  “It was ordered by a council member,” he quickly spit out.

  Reina glanced at the Carnifex, but instead of showing any reaction he was staring at her in fascination, as if he’d unexpectedly been invited to cage match of the year.

  “Which council member,” she asked impatiently, her eyes returning to DiVario. His breathing pattern changed, his nervousness visibly going redline.

  “He’ll kill me…”

  Reina laughed the sound manic and foreign to her own ears. She continued towards him slowly, methodically, with the seductive sway of death.

  “Your life is already forfeit.” She tilted her head, as if deciding what flavor of coffee to try, “Your life belongs to me.”

  “Regina…”

  She stepped in close enough that their bodies almost touched and gently pressed the tip of her blade into his bottom lip.

  “If you tell me...perhaps I’ll spare you...keep you like a pet.” She smiled as her blade traced down his chin, “It does get lonely you know...ruling all alone.”

  “Senator Walker,” he replied, barely above a whisper.

  Her mind flipped through the images of who she’d met at the gathering. Thomas Walker, the overweight alcoholic with a penchant for hurting things.

  “Why,” she asked sweetly, as she lazily traced her blade across his jawline.

  DiVario shifted anxiously obviously uncertain. He tried to decipher the mixed signals between her demeanor and her blade.

  “If the Carnifex had taken James’ seat, the senator was most likely to be appointed to the Carnifex position and implied that I would have his seat on the
council.”

  Reina scoffed, the darkness in her mind swirled with the fire in her blood and started spinning out of control. They’d killed a good man so that they could play a criminal version of musical chairs. They had torn away her world and discarded it in the hopes of controlling the stopping of the music. They truly hadn’t banked on Reina being capable of directing her own symphony. She dropped the shield from her gaze and let the wild emotion show through, reveling in the look of fear that filled DiVario’s eyes. He’d realized his error too late, his sense of self-preservation had been rendered useless.

  “Beg me,” she commanded quietly.

  “Regina,” he questioned, afraid and unsure.

  “Beg me for mercy...say please…”

  She leaned in so that he could feel the touch of her breath as he licked his lips.

  “Please Regina…”

  The remnants of her shredded heart ignited as the words left his mouth. In a matter of seconds, before he could understand what had happened, her blade slid into the side of his neck and ripped its way back out. She retreated a few steps while his hands flew up to stop his life from flowing out. Within moments he was on his knees, a bloody hand landing on the plastic as he tried to slow his fall. It wasn’t mercy he found in her eyes, it was the cold flames of hell.

  “I begged too,” She intoned emotionlessly, “it didn’t help me either…”

  Blood pooled on the plastic as he gurgled and fought for breath, the images mixed with memories and Reina forced it all into the shadowy corners of her thoughts. She couldn’t afford to lose it with the Carnifex present, and still had the relished task of establishing his guilt. When she approached him, he was looking at her with a strange admiration that made her question his sanity even more than her own. Mark held his position, gun raised. With DiVario down the Carnifex was already in line as the next target. Reina stopped just within reach, her bloody dagger still in hand.

  “Were you involved in this?”

  He remained cool and collected. Reina had the urge to stab him in the thigh just to see a change in reaction.

  “I had no knowledge of this conspiracy. I’ve made no secret of my questioning in James’ ability to lead, but I am loyal to syndicate law.”