There was no inflection to his words, no trace that he didn’t mean what he said. Sometimes, she forgot how sweet he could be.
“What is this?” she asked, running her fingers over the velvet case, almost a little afraid of what might be inside. “The last time I accepted a gift from a Runehart …” She didn’t have to finish that statement.
“Consider it a late wedding present.”
Luna pondered over it a moment longer before finally picking it up and flipping the top open to find a key fob inside, the pitchfork logo inscribed on the front of it gleaming silver and bright.
“A Maserati, Uilleam?” This was what he wanted to give her? “When did you even buy this?”
Removing his own tray covering, he scanned over the offerings. “This morning.”
Picking up the linen napkin off the table, he tucked it into the collar of his shirt before picking up his knife and fork and cutting into French toast.
“What kind of strings come attached to this … gift?”
Uilleam might have been prone to doing things in the heat of the moment, but there was always a benefit to himself with whatever favor or gift he extended.
“This one is freely given, I promise. Besides, you’re going to need a car where we’re going and better this one to blend in with the crowd.”
“Everyone drives expensive sports cars where we’re going?” she asked.
Uilleam smirked as he wiped his mouth. “Have you never been to Los Angeles?”
No, actually she hadn’t.
For the first fourteen years of her life, she had never stepped foot outside of San Jose, then the next three were spent as a captive, and after learning her mother and sister had reinvented themselves in Los Angeles, she had made sure never to visit.
She didn’t want to tempt herself.
Reading her expression, he said, “Then you’re in for an experience. Now, if you’d get dressed, we can be on our way.”
Luna didn’t waste time arguing, knowing that Uilleam wouldn’t reveal any part of his plan before he was ready. She used to think it was the thrill of knowing more than others, but she had learned there was a method to what he did—almost like he needed to control people’s reactions as well.
Showering rather quickly, she twisted wet hair up into a messy bun to dry. She pulled a rather large suitcase from the closet, packing only what she would need—more weapons than clothes. The latter she could always get while she was there, but finding high-quality weaponry on short notice was more work than she needed.
Despite it being only ten in the morning, men and women alike were swaying drunkenly through the lobby, heading upstairs to beds they were probably dying to get in, or off to the restaurant for something greasy.
Either way, Uilleam didn’t seem as conscious of showing his face as he usually did.
“I don’t understand how you can possibly enjoy this godforsaken heat,” Uilleam complained as they stepped outside, adjusting his already straightened tie.
“Most don’t wear three-piece suits out here unless it’s at night,” Luna said with a slight smile. And as a girl in glorified pasties and a thong walked by, she added, “Or nothing at all.”
Uilleam handed over a slip of paper to the valet, waiting until it was called up before turning his attention back to Luna. “At least you won’t have to worry about it anymore since you’ll be going home very soon.”
Luna’s brows shot up. “Sorry?”
“Marriage counseling went well, no? I’m sure you and my brother will find your way back to each other soon enough—perhaps after a little murder?”
“When did you start advocating for Kit?”
Some days, it was just a mild annoyance between the pair of them, but with each year that passed, it seemed that distaste had grown to a mild hatred.
“I’ve always been a supporter of your relationship. I’d hoped to spark a romance when I paired you two together.”
Luna rolled her eyes—she didn’t believe that for a second. “Do you just make up shit in your own head to fit your agenda?”
“It works well for me, no? But in this case, it’s true. I’ll admit that I had some negative intentions. I did hope to hurt him through you, after all.”
Only Uilleam would willingly admit to trying to manipulate people and not have a problem with it.
They were interrupted by the valet arriving in a pearly white Maserati. Luna had never considered herself much of a car buff—she had a better eye for motorcycles—but she had to admit that this one was a work of art.
“White for the innocent,” Uilleam murmured beside her.
To anyone else, those words might have been offensive. Uilleam knew all too well what she had been forced to do before he’d found her at the Kendall estate.
But, white also signified purity, but in the context Uilleam was using, he meant she hadn’t deserved what happened to her.
She was innocent.
“Sometimes, you’re not so bad.”
“I aspire to grace when I’m in the mood.” Uilleam waved for her to go around to the other side. “You’re driving.”
“Seriously?” she asked as he took her bag and placed it in the trunk. “I would think a control freak like you would be adamant about being behind the wheel.”
“I much prefer being driven—it allows me the chance to think.”
Luna smirked as she slid into the driver’s seat, inhaling the new car smell mixed with leather. “Or rather because you’re high maintenance.”
“If you’re ready …” he said, looking a bit aggrieved.
Taking off, Luna turned right on the Sunset Strip, heading out of the city proper. “What airstrip are we going to?”
“I thought we would drive,” Uilleam said as he got comfortable, pulling his phone from his pocket. “We can take this time to catch up on all relevant information before we arrive. As I’ve said, plans have changed.”
“Changed how, exactly?”
When she had flown to New York weeks ago for her assignment, he had made it crystal clear that she was going to California whether she liked it or not, and that she would be protecting her mother when she was there.
She felt about it then as she did now—she didn’t want to do it.
In the years she’d spent with the Den, Luna had tried very hard to distance herself from her past. Not just because of what happened with Lawrence Kendall—her former jailer and tormentor—but also because of who she had once been.
That innocent girl had no place in a life like this and had she been anything like she was before, Luna didn’t think she would be able to stomach what she did.
And having to swallow her pride and accept a job that she didn’t want … it took more out of her than she realized.
In her case though, the choice had been less of a choice and more of a demand—the one and only time Uilleam had brought up the debt she owed him.
While most had come to the Den by their own volition, Luna had been bought by Uilleam then sent to Kit for training.
Her having fallen in love with his brother and ultimately marrying him had never been part of the plan.
“What do you know about a man named Elias?”
Not much at all.
There was only the brief question about him from Red and Celt and what little Kit had told her about him during their counseling session.
Like his threatening everyone Kit loved in a bid to get him to do what he wanted.
And the other thing …
“He was the one who hired the Jackal,” Luna said quietly, glancing over in his direction.
Some names just held a lot of meaning and this Elias … his conjured hate in more than just one person.
The Jackal … his inspired fear.
Uilleam nodded once. “He did. He’s also responsible for quite a few of the atrocities in my life—not to mention my business. His attempt to ruin me has cost me money, and that displeases me.”
“But he has a lot of leverage,” Luna s
aid, shifting gears as the car picked up in speed. She was definitely going to love this car. “And that’s just what he has on Kit. I can only imagine what he might have on you.”
“I imagine it to be extensive, but there’s a lesson he hasn’t seemed to grasp from previous enemies of mine.”
“What’s that?”
Uilleam’s smile grew. “He won’t win.”
It was hard not to believe something Uilleam said.
He spoke with such a finality that it made it impossible to question him.
“But how can you do anything if he has people watching us at every turn?”
“Missions, like the one he took on, take time and patience—both of which our good friend, Elias, doesn’t seem to possess. After a year of my brother’s willful obedience, he downgraded his surveillance to you and Kit. Not to mention, his attention has been pulled in several directions.”
Because of him, Luna knew.
First, Red’s assignment had been to just learn the man’s name. Then Celt successfully stopped the sale of a painting that had once belonged to the Runehart family.
Both had torn apart deals Elias had intended to make.
Was that the same tactic Uilleam intended to use her for?
“Okay, so what do you need me to do?”
“Do what you do best, Calavera,” Uilleam said, using the name he rarely did. “Be the spider.”
“You want me to find information? What’s left to find that you don’t already have?”
“To topple an empire,” Uilleam said, “you don’t start with the queen—you start with her pawns.”
“Which of Carmen’s pawns are you trying to take out first?”
“We’ll start with Caesar then Ariana is next.”
Her sister.
Luna was sure she should have felt something more than grudging acceptance at the idea that she would be working with The Kingmaker to destroy her own family, but she couldn’t muster any sadness.
“How exactly do you expect us to accomplish this?”
“Caesar’s destruction has already been put into motion. Our friendly sniper is taking care of that.”
“Red?” Luna asked, surprise coloring her words.
She hadn’t talked to Red since she left New York, though she had heard his twins were born on Christmas. She couldn’t imagine what The Kingmaker had promised him to get him away from his newborns so soon.
“And once he’s out of the picture, we can move on to Ariana, but it will be much easier to show you how she’ll face her ruin rather than tell you.”
While she was dying to know what he intended, it was only a matter of time before she found out the truth.
They rode the rest of the way in silence, and as desert turned to lush palm trees, Luna tried to contain her wandering eyes as she tried to take in everything she was seeing.
She definitely saw what Uilleam had meant when it came to the cars in Los Angeles—though there were still a number of “regular” cars as well.
“Turn off here,” Uilleam instructed as he signaled for her to get off the interstate.
Before long, she was pulling into the driveway of a house so close to the beach that she could smell the salt in the air. It reminded her of Skorpion’s beachside condo that she had only ever seen in pictures.
Unlike her condo in Vegas, with its sharp lines and dark palette, this bungalow was more open and airy with its light colors and subtle design—though a tap of her knuckles against the windows told her the glass was reinforced.
But as she walked around the living room, looking everything over, it felt almost … familiar, though she knew she had never been here before.
Putting it out of her mind, Luna headed for the master bedroom on the ground floor, and once she was inside, she realized all too quickly why it seemed so familiar.
From the crisp white sheets and duvet to the French doors that led out to a pool of gleaming water.
There were subtle variances, sure, but this room, and the house even, had been modeled after the bungalow in Bora Bora.
Kit and his gifts.
She had no doubt this was his doing. He liked his surprises, liked making her smile, and probably knowing that she was coming here, he had told Uilleam to gift this to her without saying a word.
“What are the two of you up to?” she asked as Uilleam ventured in after her, failing to keep the knowing look off his face.
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.”
“Of course not.”
“You would need somewhere to stay while you conduct business—this is far better than a hotel, no?”
“Sure.”
Though Luna didn’t mind hotels, she didn’t often like staying in them for long periods of time. Housekeeping had a tendency to want to clean when she wasn’t in the room, and that never boded well if she left her equipment lying around.
“While I’d love to stay, we both need to get ready for tonight. I’ve left a dress for you in the closet. Make sure you look adequate for a night at the opera.”
The opera?
Luna didn’t have time to question him before he was back out the door.
Despite their years together, Kit had never taken her to the opera—not that she was complaining, she had never thought it sounded interesting—but she knew that when going to the theater, one was expected to look their best.
Uilleam wore a tuxedo, complete with a bowtie with his strawberry-blond hair styled—he looked every bit his moniker.
While Luna had gotten dressed for the evening, she hadn’t known what to expect, as was the case with her handler most of the time, but when she’d pulled the red satin dress from the black bag in the closet, she had to admit he had impeccable taste.
“Your job doesn’t officially begin until the end of this night,” Uilleam explained after he passed the attendant a pair of tickets before sweeping her through the private entrance and into the warmly lit interior of the building. “Let’s just consider this a token of my appreciation.”
Through a set of double doors at the end of the hall and up a private elevator that opened to the east wing of the theater, Luna wasn’t the least bit surprised that the balcony they entered was empty, but she was surprised at how open they were to the rest of the room.
Uilleam valued his anonymity, and she didn’t think he would ever put himself out there like this … especially after what happened with the Jackal.
“Thanks …” she offered, though she wasn’t quite sure what she was thanking him for just yet. “Did you actually pay for these tickets?”
“They were offered as an act of good faith from a potential client,” Uilleam explained as he guided her to her seat then ventured back to the small bar area where he poured two flutes of champagne. “But this isn’t the token, I assure you. I hate the opera.”
Uilleam was strange, and she had long since stopped trying to figure him out.
“Tell me,” he said as he claimed his seat, passing her one of the glasses. “How well can you see the balcony across from us?”
Without hesitation, her gaze turned in the direction he indicated, her eyes narrowing as she tried to make sense of who she was seeing. After a moment, her gaze adjusted to the dim light, and she stiffened as she saw who was seated there.
“Ariana, and … I can’t really see the other person.”
He was distinctly male, however, but his face was shrouded in shadows.
Uilleam passed her a pair of glasses, ones that seemed rather ordinary at first glance, but once she had them on, she realized they made it far easier to see in the darkness.
Now, she could better see Ariana and the man she was seated next to.
Kit.
Luna didn’t think she would ever enjoy the sight of them together, of knowing what she did about her sister with the added knowledge that her husband was now protecting her.
Unbidden, she thought about their session with Dr. Marie, and the way he had so casually spoken about why he had need
ed to do this, but even as she knew there was no reason she should still be angry with him … it was hard letting that go.
Despite herself, jealousy reared its ugly head.
Ariana had always been the pretty one, the one everyone wanted to spoil because it was so easy for her to wrap people around her finger. She couldn’t help it had always been that way, but Luna didn’t like the idea of her trying to wrap Kit around her finger.
And she knew that was exactly what she was trying to do judging from that coy little smile on her face as she focused her undivided attention on him.
“So part of his job is taking her to the opera?”
An amused smile curled Uilleam’s mouth as he regarded her. “Feeling a bit territorial?”
“Just answer the question. You obviously know something I don’t.”
“Patience, Luna. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves when the night has just started.”
People were still filling in all around the theater, taking their seats as the murmurs grew in volume—at least, until the lights started to dim.
It was during the hush that she noticed the doors behind Kit and Ariana swinging open. Carmen entered first, then Caesar, and finally, another man who was only vaguely familiar because of the file she had on the rest of them.
Luna could just see the blurred edges of the black and gray tattoos that covered nearly every inch of the exposed skin on his hands and throat.
Agustín Contreras—The Saint. Rumors as to how he had acquired the name varied, with some speaking of his killing an enemy in the ruins of an old church, or another where he had murdered a man with a crucifix, but of all of them, they said the man said a prayer for each and every man that he put in the ground.
He also happened to be Ariana’s fiancé.
The first time Luna had seen him during her research into her family, he hadn’t seemed to be like anything she expected her sister to want in a man. The one boyfriend she could remember Ariana having had been blond, blue-eyed, and wore plaid shorts.
Agustín was definitely not that.
But then again, she didn’t really know her sister anymore. They might not have always gotten along—Ariana never enjoyed having her younger sister tag along for the things she wanted to do—but Luna had never thought her sister would have gladly gone along with her kidnapping and murder plot.
Den of Mercenaries Page 83
