Devil’s Luck

by Kory M. Shrum

  He turned to face her. “What are you thinking about?”

  “The weather,” she said. “You.”

  He smiled. “What about me?”

  “Do you know that you’re beautiful?” she asked with a mischievous grin.

  He took her hand and pressed her index finger to his cheek. “Even with this?”

  He forced her to trace the rough ridge of his scar. It was long and vertical, bisecting most of his cheek.

  Lou remembered Nico pressing the blade into his flesh, the way the cheek had hung open, bleeding, a mask of blood covering half his face.

  He’d had at least two surgeries to improve the scar’s appearance and to repair the muscles cut beneath. While they had returned the muscle function, it hadn’t been enough to completely remove the surface damage.

  “I like you better with this,” she said, and meant it.

  It surprised another laugh out of him. “Really?”

  “You were too pretty before.”

  “I am more attractive to you now, with the scar?” he asked, his voice deepening.

  “Yes.”

  He rolled onto her then, holding his body above hers, careful not to add any weight. That heady scent pressed against her.

  “I should thank Nico then,” he said.

  She slid her fingers around the back of his neck and into his hair and pulled him down into a kiss, forcing his body against hers. Her muscles rolled instinctively, and his body tightened in response.

  She deepened the kiss, forcing her tongue past his lips and holding him in place. He didn’t object. He relaxed into her, opening his mouth wider, meeting her tongue with his.

  It was easy to slip her free hand, the one not wrapped up in his dark hair, under his shirt. She lifted the fabric and he broke the kiss just long enough to let her pull the shirt over his head.

  His skin pricked with goosebumps as she put the shirt on her jacket for safekeeping.

  Her fingers traced the tattoo from his shoulder to his elbow.

  “Do you like it?” he asked. “Some women do not like tattoos.”

  Lou arched an eyebrow. “No woman has ever told you she didn’t like this tattoo.”

  “No,” he admitted. “But I’m asking you.”

  “I like it.”

  “What else do you like?” he ventured. He was smiling down at her.

  “You want me to inventory the things I like about you?” she asked. It made her think of Piper suddenly. Hadn’t she asked similar questions?

  Lou hadn’t known how to answer her, any more than she knew how to answer Konstantine now. What did she like about him?

  Physically? His green eyes. His thick dark hair and its tendency to curl. The scar and the tattoos, but also his stillness. Every move he made seemed deliberate. He was very comfortable in his skin.

  She liked the look that filled his eyes when he regarded her. The way his voice dropped, softened, when he spoke to her.

  “Why do people need assurances from me?” Lou asked softly.

  Konstantine pulled back, looking into her face. “For me, because you’re difficult to read. Who else?”

  “Piper.”

  He didn’t look surprised by this answer. After a while he said, “You have nothing else you like about me, besides the tattoo and the scar?”

  “Your eyes,” she said. “Your voice.”

  She thought harder.

  “The way you smell.”

  She came up onto her elbows and placed her face into the crook of his neck. She ran her mouth along the line of his throat up to his jaw. She had an urge to bite his throat, so she did, pressing her teeth into his skin until he shivered.

  “The way you taste.”

  When she released him, pressing her back to the ground again, she saw his eyes were heavy with desire.

  She grinned and reached beneath him, unclasping the button on his pants and sliding her hand between his legs.

  * * *

  Konstantine saw the look in her eyes even before he felt her hand tug at his pants. He knew what was coming. He supported his weight on one side, thinking, always, of her shoulder and the dangerous day they had ahead of them.

  When her fingers found him, cupped him, sliding over his skin warm and smooth, he hardened. His desire, which had already begun to form as soon as she’d removed his shirt, mounted to an uncomfortable high.

  He found himself squirming, pressing harder into her palm.

  He couldn’t decide if he would accept this, if it was enough just to be in her hands now that he knew what she felt like.

  He wanted to be inside her, buried to the hilt. His face and neck felt like they were on fire, and the throbbing between his legs had grown unbearable. He rose up suddenly and began tugging off his pants. He freed one leg, then the other, until he was completely naked on top of her.

  He waited, looking for any objection, but she was unhooking her own pants and lifting her hips to remove them.

  He helped, tugging the fabric down to reveal long, muscular legs. He wanted to remove her shirt, but she was already reaching for him, pulling him back down onto her.

  He settled for pushing it up enough that their bare stomachs touched.

  Skin on skin.

  He probed her first with his fingers, found her soaked. He moaned into the hollow of her throat.

  “We didn’t use a condom in La Loon,” he said. “And I don’t have one now.”

  “I’m clean.”

  So was he. “But there’s still the matter of bambini.”

  “I take birth control,” she said, her hand already on him, guiding him in.

  He sank into her, enjoying that first rush of warm, wet sensation. She wrapped her legs around him, locking him into place, making it hard to pull out more than a couple of inches before driving in again.

  When she moaned, his whole body shivered, something in him relaxing.

  His mouth was on her throat, at her ear.

  I love you, he thought.

  Don’t say it.

  I love you.

  Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

  He remembered their conversation in the hospital. He’d replayed it in his mind many times since. She’d woken from her brief coma. She’d said, “I didn’t want you to fall in love with me.”

  He confessed, “I’m already in love with you.”

  “Don’t. People in love want to get married, they want kids. I don’t want any of that.”

  It had hurt to hear her say it, to hear all his desires laid bare and dismissed. But he was also prepared to love her on her own terms. To respect her own desires. He had dreams, as many as any man. But what he wanted most of all was her.

  If this was all he could have, moments like this, losing himself in the feel of her, he would take it.

  She came first, and he was grateful because he followed a second after. He moved to pull out of her, but she wouldn’t let him go. The heels of her feet pressed into his lower back.

  “Not yet,” she panted in his ear. She was shivering.

  For a terrible moment, he worried he’d hurt her shoulder.

  “I’m not finished,” she said, as if anticipating his question.

  She rolled him onto his back and began to slowly rock against his hips.

  After a minute, maybe more, she shivered again, collapsing onto her good side.

  He lay on his back, looking up at the stars. Something bright and streaking crossed the sky. Konstantine tried to remember what it was like three years ago. Five. Ten.

  When he’d wished for this woman in his arms, when he’d longed for her so badly that it left a raw and burning cavern within him.

  And here she was.

  After so much dreaming, here was her weight against him, her breath hanging in the silence of their collected pleasure.

  “Will it always be like this?” he asked into her hair.

  She stiffened.

  Don’t ruin it with romance, he thought.

  “Outside. On the ground,”
he said with a forced smile. “Do you have something against beds?”

  She relaxed against him. “You said you wanted out of the city. You didn’t say anything about a bed.”

  29

  Dani, Piper, King, and Lou stood in the middle of The Crescent City Detective Agency. King thought they looked like a rather somber bunch despite the sunny summer day pressing through the front windows.

  “Don’t die,” Piper said, frowning at them. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she looked from Lou to King and back to Lou again. “You look too relaxed. Take this seriously, okay? Diana is crazy. Be on your guard.”

  “Sure you want to sit this one out?” King asked. It wasn’t like Piper to insist she stay behind during the action.

  “I’m sure,” Piper said. She glanced in Dani’s direction. It was such a quick micro movement, King wasn’t sure she realized she’d done it. But it told King a lot. Maybe Piper was staying behind for Dani’s sake. Maybe because Dani didn’t want another encounter with Diana.

  “We’ve got plenty of work to do,” Dani said, taking Piper’s hand. “But you guys be safe and let us know as soon as it’s over.”

  Piper was watching Lou closely.

  King wondered if it was the guns. Lou had a shoulder holster with two Browning pistols and a hip holster with two Berettas. Her arms were covered with Kevlar sleeves. The body armor on her chest made her look battle ready. That and the fact her hair had been pulled back from her face, in a ponytail.

  “Be careful,” Piper said, stepping forward. She looked like she wanted to give Lou a hug but wasn’t sure how to manage it with all the guns.

  To King, Lou said, “Let’s go.”

  Piper’s face fell.

  They haven’t made up.

  “Sure.” He stepped into Lou’s office, the broom closet with her name on the door, and she followed him in. She closed the door, leaving them in pitch darkness.

  “Did Konstantine tell you where he assembled the men?” King asked into the dark.

  “There was an empty office building across the street from Winter’s apartment. That’s our first stop.”

  Before King could ask more, the room shifted around him. The darkness rolled over him, squeezing him, and the floor dropped out. His stomach turned, and then the gravity shifted again and he was on his feet in the middle of a large lobby.

  King would never get used to it, the feeling of being compressed, pinched, and stretched out in turn.

  “Shit.” The man closest to his left elbow jumped, bumping into a dusty plant. A cloud puffed into the air.

  King took this moment to right himself and take the room’s measure. The men were spread around the dusty, forgotten place, standing in small huddles or leaning against the sheet-covered furniture. The buzz of conversation died upon their arrival.

  Silence stretched out between them.

  The man they’d startled hung over one of the sheet-covered armchairs as if ready to throw himself over its back and run if necessary.

  “Damn. He wasn’t joking,” someone said. “It’s her.”

  All eyes were on them now. No, not them. Lou.

  They tracked her movements with keen interest—and perhaps more than a little fear.

  Her shades were down, her weapons in full view.

  No one wanted to move closer. When her mirrored shades passed over them, their gazes flicked away.

  This gave King ample room to make his own assessment.

  At first glance, they didn’t look like gangsters.

  A few had tattoos across their exposed hands, but that didn’t mean anything. One had some writing sticking out from under his shirt collar. But mostly, they looked the part of operatives. Head to toe in black, bulletproof vests, earpieces, and guns.

  “Good evening,” King said, finding his voice at last, despite the nausea from Lou’s slip lingered. “Before we get started—”

  “He said we answer to her,” one of the men said, motioning toward Lou. “Not some cop.”

  No need to ask who he was.

  “Sure,” King said. He was a little miffed that despite his hard work over the years, he still emitted a cop vibe. He thought he’d done a pretty good job of eliminating it, thankyouverymuch. “Do you have anything you’d like to tell them?”

  A few stiffened, their backs straightening.

  “Listen to him,” Lou said. She grinned. “Or we’re finished here.”

  More than one shifted nervously at the implied threat. Someone muttered, “Fuck,” as if only just realizing what they’d gotten themselves into.

  “Any other questions?” King asked, eyebrows raised.

  No one spoke.

  He hated his hard-ass voice. He hadn’t had to use it in years, rarely since he’d trained recruits at Quantico. But it was a necessary evil tonight. These men had to follow his lead if they hoped to fool Diana and take down Winter.

  I’m the only one here that knows what an operation is supposed to even look like.

  “Good. Now we’re going to split into two teams of twenty, and a third team of ten.” When no one moved, he added, “Now.”

  The men separated into two groups. King made a few adjustments, asking men to switch sides until he had an even mix.

  “Okay, Team A, that’s you.” King pointed at the cluster on his left. “We’re going to position you on the ground, surrounding the building. Team B, we’re sending you into the building. Do any of you Team B-ers have experience clearing a room?”

  Most indicated they had.

  “Team C, you’ll stay close to—” He’d almost said Lou’s name. “Her.”

  “She’s here,” Lou said, her eyes fixed on the parking lot.

  King turned and saw two black cars swinging into the cement lot. Diana stepped out from behind the driver’s wheel into the gloomy day. Her entourage exited the two cars and came toward the office building’s entrance and its two glass doors.

  “And now,” King said as Diana reached for the door handle, “pretend we’ve known each other forever.”

  * * *

  Lou barely listened to King as he prattled on about the instructions for the raid. Even after Diana entered the building and explained how her team would be overseeing the technology and monitoring of the operation, Lou couldn’t hold her interest.

  Her eyes kept straying to the apartment complex across the street. Its faded brick exterior seemed watchful, as if it was waiting for this moment as much as she was. But it was also what she was feeling.

  Or wasn’t.

  She reached out for Winter again, trying to get a lock on his location.

  Close, she thought. But it wasn’t fixating on either of the two apartment buildings. The compass kept circling.

  Lou tried to remember the last time her compass had done that, been unsure of a target’s location. Even if they were in cars or airplanes, somehow their bodies in motion, it was still enough.

  “We good?” King asked her suddenly.

  She turned and saw that most of the eyes were on her. Not just King, who was waiting for an answer, but Diana, the silent, leather-clad woman beside her, and the short man with the hobbled gait. Lou noted the bruising on his neck.

  All of the others too, watching her carefully as if waiting for her to say something.

  Lou motioned King close.

  His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t get a lock on Winter,” she whispered, keeping her voice too low for the others to hear.

  King was careful to keep his voice low too. “You don’t think he’s in that building?”

  “He’s close,” she said. “But I can’t get an exact lock.”

  King rubbed his jaw. “Has this ever happened before?”

  “No.”

  King shook his head. “We’ll work with what we’ve got.”

  “Anything you want to share with the class?” Diana called. This earned a few snickers from her own people.

  Those who belonged to Konstantine said nothing.


  What stories did they hear about me? she wondered. She understood that she had some notoriety in the underworld. She’d killed too many of them to not loom in their imaginations larger than life.

  “What are we waiting for?” Diana asked, her arms crossed.

  “Dark,” Lou said, and the men around her stiffened, reacting to her voice.

  Someone murmured the word vampira, but Lou didn’t catch the source. She considered smiling mischievously, fueling their fear, but her eyes kept sliding toward the buildings across the street.

  “Sundown is in twelve minutes. We’ll need another thirty minutes after that for full dark,” the woman in leather said.

  She must be the sister. Lou watched how close she stood to Diana, almost protective.

  Her eyes fixed on Lou and didn’t waver. Unlike Diana, who often dismissed the people around her, this one paid attention. No detail seemed to escape her notice.

  “Plenty of time to get ready,” King said. “Now let’s run through the plan again. I want to go through the scenarios. Scenario one, if there are children in the building…”

  Lou only distantly noted King’s instructions as he drilled the men again and again about the situations they might encounter.

  When Diana began to issue her own orders, Lou learned some names. The woman in the leather pants was Blair. The hobbled man with the fresh bruises on his throat was Spencer. From the corner of her eye, she watched Diana affix technology she didn’t recognize to their clothes.

  Sitting on a sheet-covered sofa, Diana opened her laptop.

  “He’s streaming,” she announced. “Just give me a couple of minutes to confirm his location.”

  Which is more than I can do, Lou thought, her insides tensing.

  The streetlights grew brighter, the night darker, and Lou began to see lights in the building across the street. She focused on each one, wondering which one might be Winter, but again her compass only swirled and swirled.

  Was she concentrating too hard on the building?

  Lou felt the moment the sun slid behind the horizon. The itchy heat in her body cooled instantly.

  Sometimes it was like that. The second the shadows took control of the world, she felt a surge of energy, something inside her waking up.