“You seem to be in a state,” she started conversationally, not wanting to put him on the defensive. “Work not going as planned?”
She expected him to laugh and deny that, to make an excuse of some sort, but his expression remained rather serious. “Not quite.”
She couldn’t tell whether he hoped she would ask more questions or leave it alone. “I’ll listen if you want to share.”
It was clear that was what he wanted to hear, but it still seemed to trouble him. “I can’t promise you’ll like what I have to say.”
“The truth isn’t always pretty, but it’s the truth all the same.”
She knew quite well they could fall on opposites sides of the moral gray line, but she still didn’t care.
He nodded once as if that had been the permission he needed to say whatever lingered inside him.
Turning for the table where the twin candles were burning, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and stripped out of it, then undid the cufflinks at his wrists and rolled the sleeves back.
It was only when he was seated at the table, his eyes ghosting over the table in front of him, did he speak. “I made … arrangements for a family. The woman, Carmen was her name, wants power and respect.”
She tried to imagine how truly desperate a person had to be to actually voice those words aloud. “And who better to turn to than you,” she said flatly, walking over to pour him a drink since he looked like he could use one. “How do you give someone power and respect, exactly? It’s not a tangible thing, is it?”
He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“By all means,” she said, starting to spoon portions onto his plate, then hers. “Educate me.”
But he didn’t. Uilleam looked around the kitchen for a moment, seeing the slight mess she’d made, though he didn’t look particularly bothered by it, then he came back to the dish in front of him. “How was your day?”
He couldn’t have been more blatant in his attempt to change the subject. “Uneventful—surely not as exciting as yours,” she said pointedly.
His brow crept up. “No interesting stories at the office?”
Picking up, her fork, she didn’t let him hide for long. “Not at all. Now, tell me about the deal you made.”
Not because she truly cared what sort of work he would have to do to make the deal with the woman, but rather about the reason he was so bothered.
“In exchange for a significant fee, I’ve agreed to help her secure a position that affords her the life she wants.”
Karina frowned, remaining silent a moment as she expected him to continue. But when he didn’t, she asked, “Is that all? With the way you’re acting, I thought you’d have to do something awful.”
Uilleam didn’t respond, but he did pick up his glass of vodka and tossed it back, only his jaw tightening at the burn before he poured another.
Karina set down her fork.
“Unless something awful is involved ...”
She would have to sacrifice her morals in some way ...
Start a revolution that would inevitably have people killed ...
Take over someone’s business and claim it for her own—like Karina’s own mother did ...
Picking up her wine glass, she readied to take a sip, thinking of all the possibilities Uilleam could offer.
“To get her what she wants, one of her daughters has to die.”
Karina froze, her fingers tightening around the crystal, her gaze finding Uilleam’s across the table. She saw it there, the knowledge that he knew she would be upset to hear this.
As if what he said hadn’t made her stomach pitch and twist.
Someone’s child would have to …
He couldn’t.
“You didn’t …”
She could see the muscle in his jaw now, a tic that hadn’t been there before. The careful restraint and control he had over himself just as that blank mask came over his face. The man who’d come in looking troubled at whatever he had done was gone.
The one sitting in front of her was the one who would justify his actions.
The one who believed the ends justified the means.
“If not me,” he said after a moment, “then it will be someone else, that I know. At least, I plan to put her out of her misery.”
“A misery of your own making,” she snapped, looking disgusted. “Is that the way you’re choosing to look at it—as if you’re doing her a favor? You’ve agreed to murder a child for no other reason than a woman’s greed.” The words had exploded out of her without thought or care for how Uilleam felt.
Couldn’t he see the way that looked? How it sounded? Couldn’t he understand that what he was suggesting sounded absolutely horrible?
She pushed her plate away, knowing she wouldn’t be able to eat, not with the way her blood was churning and her appetite had all but disappeared. “I’ve thought many things about you, Uilleam, but a heartless man was never one of them.”
“Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” he returned just as quickly.
Ah, that was the way of it, wasn’t it? He turned it around on her instead of acknowledging his role in this. “Maybe I don’t,” she readily agreed. “But I thought you were capable of better than this—better than the man you claimed to hate,” she added, watching the way the words made him flinch. “Maybe I was wrong about that too.”
“It’s not just black and white, Karina,” he said softly, standing as she did. “That’s not how this works.”
“You’re absolutely right about that.”
He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face, looking exasperated by her. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“You didn’t have a choice with Gaspard either, remember? But you went a different way because there’s always another way. You’re either blind to that, or just incapable of seeing it any other way that doesn’t feed your ego.”
Her hands were shaking, she realized belatedly, curling them into fists before he could see the motion. She didn’t want him to see how this affected her, because it wasn’t about her.
No, it was about a girl they were turning into a pawn for someone else’s gain.
Karina ... needed a second.
Before he could say another word, she turned her back and went upstairs to their bedroom, closing the door and locking it behind her before she pressed her back against it, trying to remind herself to breathe.
Her thoughts were in shambles, unsure where to focus.
On the one hand, there was the nameless and faceless girl who she worried about, wishing she had more information about her. Maybe she could do something, though she didn’t know what.
Then there was Uilleam, whose confession had made her feel like she wanted to vomit, yet the part of her that loved him unconditionally had settled on the fact that he had, at least, been upset at the idea—so upset that he’d told her all about it, though he had to have known how she would respond.
But it still didn’t erase the fact that he had decided to do it anyway.
That he had entertained the offer long enough that he’d actually agreed to it. She was a little afraid to know who made the offer in the first place.
Knowing it would do her no good to venture down that line of thinking, Karina sank to the floor, bending her legs at the knees and drawing them to her chest. She felt … helpless, in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
22
Compromises
Not once in many years had Uilleam cared what another thought of his actions.
He was prone to reacting on a whim, and depending on his mood, it could mean very bad things for others, but it always meant good things for him—he made sure of that.
But now he sat in his new living room, trying to ignore the way the sound of the door closing upstairs echoed in his ears. He’d known she would be upset from the moment he had stepped onto the plane to head back here.
He had assumed, however, that he would f
igure out what to say when the time was right, but judging from the way she had practically fled away from him, he hadn’t.
He’d only made it worse.
And though he’d considered keeping it to himself, he knew with a glance at his lover, he wouldn’t be able to do that.
Lover … even that sounded too mundane when he thought of Karina.
Uilleam wasn’t sure how long he remained standing in place after Karina had disappeared upstairs, but after a while, he ventured into the living room to sit in front of the hearth.
Dropping down onto the couch, he blew out a breath, looking at the coffee table made of fine ebony where his 15th-century chess board sat, one he’d been gifted many, many years ago. This same board had kept him sane and provided a mental relief for the grueling tasks he set out for himself.
He found solace in the workings of his own mind.
Not many understood why he enjoyed playing against himself—not that he had ever wanted to explain it—after all, he could very well predict his own moves, but that wasn’t how it worked for him.
He imagined what others might do—the choices they would make and how they would think to beat him.
This was how, despite the odds, he managed to stay two steps ahead of everyone.
But in this … he wasn’t sure what to do.
Carmen’s money had been as green as anyone else’s, and who was he to judge how far a person was willing to go to get what they wanted? Even if he did find what she was doing abhorrent, it wasn’t his place pass judgment on them.
That was between them and whatever god they believed in.
His only job was to provide the impossible.
But even as he’d relished in the thought of the challenge this particular arrangement had, he couldn’t erase the way Karina had looked at him. The way the look in her eyes had made him feel … wrong, for once.
He didn’t like seeing that.
Hated it, in fact.
So if it took a moment of careful thinking to find a solution that answered both of his problems, he would take it.
After some consideration, he looked down at the board and moved his first pawn.
His strategy was sound, he reasoned. Having the girl die would ensure Carmen had the sympathy of others, and a sound place to start her fight against the cartels that would ultimately land her in a position where she could change the world however she saw fit.
There was nothing people didn’t love more than a martyr.
No, Uilleam thought as he sat back, a sudden thought hitting him. There was something people loved more.
A scandal.
Because there were so many of them, pawns were often overlooked on the chessboard. They were usually sacrificed in a bid to acquire a higher player, but sometimes—and this was something Uilleam had learned a long while ago—pawns could win the game if played correctly.
It was baffling how quickly the answer came to him even though he hadn’t seen it before.
And as a new strategy began to move and take shape inside his head, he believed now more than ever that Karina could prove useful to him. That he needed her.
She made him think outside the book. Different from his usual laser focus.
He wouldn’t have to have Luna Santiago killed, after all. He would make her the strongest pawn there was.
“It’s getting late, Uilleam.”
Karina’s voice broke into his thoughts a moment before he felt her fingers drift across his back, the touch nearly as comforting as the ease that washed over him at the sound of her voice. But even as pleased as he was to find her in the room with him, he didn’t look away from the board.
There was still much his muddled brain had yet to figure out.
There was still work to be done.
“You have that look on your face,” she went on, sitting across from him.
“Which look is that?” he asked, watching her watch him.
She didn’t have to think about it. “The one where you’re plotting to take over the world.”
A faint smile touched his lips. “Play with me,” he said, returning the chess pieces to their rightful positions before she had actually agreed. But he knew she would because she indulged him far more than he cared to admit.
“Is that what you want?” she asked, the hair he loved to run his fingers through now down from the ponytail she’d been wearing to cascade down her shoulder.
It was a genuine question, not one he had been asked fairly often over the span of his life. Certainly not by someone who proclaimed to care about him. His parents had always made decisions for him, never caring what he had to say on the matter. Kit didn’t offer an opinion one way or the other.
But not his Karina.
For reasons he couldn’t even fathom, she cared about him.
More than she probably should, considering who he was. But she did, and he was selfish enough to hold it even though he knew there would be another day like this in the future.
When he disappointed her ... and there was nothing either of them could do about it.
“The school I attended had a chess club, you know,” Karina started as she moved toward the edge of her chair, her gaze focusing on the board. “I was a bit hopeless at it, I have to admit. Clearly, you know that, considering how many times I’ve lost playing against you.”
That made him smile absently at the bit of information she shared, tucking it away with all the other little bits he knew about her. There was such depth to her that he knew he would happily wade through it all until he learned everything there was to know.
“All the men in my family enjoy it,” he said after a moment, telling her something as she’d done for him. “I’ve mentioned how much I love it, and what it’s done for me, but I never mentioned that my father was the one to teach me how to play.”
Back during a time when he’d been more human than monster. When he hadn’t been so far gone that he’d begun to think his own family was out to get him.
In the end, it had been.
For a moment, their conversation was forgotten as she studied the board for several seconds before she took her turn.
Once she did, he spoke. “I’ve found a solution you’ll appreciate.”
“I never doubted you would,” she said with a tired smile, and he noticed, for the first time, just how red her eyes looked. “Sometimes, you just need a bit of perspective.”
“Yes,” he readily agreed, though that wasn’t quite true.
If she hadn’t been in his life, he wouldn’t have been looking for another solution. He wouldn’t need one because his decision had already been made.
“So?” she asked, eager to listen. “What will you do?”
He couldn’t tell her, not yet.
As it stood, the Den was still nothing more than an idea—something not yet set into motion until Bishop was ready.
Because once he was sure the training would stick, and this went along the way he planned, he had to keep it close to his chest.
“She’ll live,” he settled on saying, watching the wide array of emotions clash on her face.
But her next question surprised him.
“As what?”
There were many answers he wanted to give—some simple, others convoluted—but he ultimately settled on what felt the most honest without revealing what he didn’t want her to know.
“Herself,” he said even as he had other ideas in his mind. “She’ll only have to be herself.”
But what he turned her into was a different matter altogether.
23
Slip
First came laughter, then a sudden burst of bright light that had Karina flinching beneath it.
The world was too manic around her—voices that were both low and high coming from all sides. The way she seemed to be moving amongst the scores of people, yet no one seemed to notice her at all.
It was as if she was invisible.
This … it couldn’t be real life, surely. She was dreaming,
had to be.
Nothing else made sense.
She turned in place, trying to understand where she was—why it looked foreign, but familiar—then she came short as she noticed a little girl crying on the ground. Dream or not, she had to pause and survey the girl to check if she was hurt in some way.
“Are you okay?” she asked, but her voice sounded wrong even to her own ears.
But just as everyone else did, she ignored her, swiping away tears with the back of her arm.
“Shh,” a voice called, as soothing as it was alarming to hear.
Karina whirled around, expecting to find Uilleam behind her, but the street was empty behind her, and instead, Uilleam seemed to manifest behind the girl. But he didn’t look like himself. His smile was abnormally wide, his skin too pale. He looked like something rather than human.
She said his name, or at least attempted to, but even as her mouth fell open—and she could even feel the way her tongue touched the back of her teeth as she sounded out his name—nothing came out.
Her voice was gone completely.
Ever the gentleman, he extended his hand to the girl, her tears drying instantly as she looked back at him.
But something felt wrong about the interaction—something that made Karina shake her head as she darted forward, wanting to keep the two apart. Yet her legs felt impossibly heavy, and no matter how she tried to move, she was rooted in place.
“Let’s leave, shall we?” Uilleam offered, that impossibly wide grin only growing larger. Wider.
More demonic.
The girl didn’t seem to notice it, however. She didn’t see the monster right in front of her.
But it wasn’t until they turned their backs that she finally understood the gravity of what she was seeing because there was no mistaking the large black gun he carried.
WAIT.
The word echoed in her own ears, but that didn’t change anything happening around her. It seemed the more she tried to speak aloud, the higher the sound became in her own head until she was screaming unintelligibly.
She was helpless. Forced to watch the scene unfold as the girl went along with Uilleam willingly, not noticing when he dropped back a step.
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