Designed for Murder (Killer Style) (13 page)

He slid past her into the apartment and glowered at Will until the bigger man faded into the background of her apartment like he wasn’t even there. Only then did Carlos turn to her. Anger, frustration, and something a lot like regret rolled off him in waves that slammed against her.

“You can’t go to Battle Ultimate. It’s not safe,” he said. “For all you know, he’s just waiting for you to let your guard down. The event will be chaos. Everyone will be in chaos. There’ll be mundanes mixed in with the players, and you won’t know friend from foe. He’s already helped harm half your court. He’ll know you’ll be there. It’s the perfect opportunity for this guy to cut another loose end without anyone realizing until it’s too late.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re so caught up in guilt and determined not to repeat the past that you can’t ever believe that other people might not be total morons.” She shouldn’t have ever opened her door and let him in. Hell, she shouldn’t have ever gone home with him from the bar that first night. “It’s been a week and there hasn’t been a single solitary peep out of the mystery drug dealer. I’m not turning my back on my life because of a perceived threat. I’m not going to live the rest of my life trapped in my loft because of something that
might
happen.”

And this was what her life had become. She was lying like it was second nature. It went against every fiber of her being, but if that’s what it took to get him out of her life, she’d do it. She had a plan to right her wrong. It would work. It had to.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He turned toward Will Roscoe, who was studying one of her design association magazines like a man about to embark on a career change. “You can’t let her do this. He could be out there.”

Will shrugged his broad shoulders. “Not my call, man.”

Carlos pulled his phone out. “I’m calling Tony.”

Oh no. He wasn’t about to try to outmaneuver her on this. She was the client, and what she said went. “It’s not his call, either.” Mika jabbed her finger into Carlos’s unrelenting chest for emphasis. “It’s mine.”

Her father hadn’t stuck around after Hana was murdered. Her mother hadn’t left physically, but she’d shrunk into herself and abandoned her only living daughter just the same. Mika had come into adulthood alone—not by choice but because of circumstance. Well, she was done with that. Only she would control her destiny. She was the one leaving, not the other way around.

He popped his knuckles and worked his jaw back and forth hard enough to grind his teeth to dust. “If you insist on doing this, I’m coming.”

Carlos didn’t have a say in her life. He’d forfeited that right forever.

“No, you’re not.” She lifted her chin. “I don’t need you.”

“Yes, you do.” He grabbed her upper arms, his fingers biting into her flesh, and yanked her tight against his hard body. Danger and promise and bittersweet hope wrapped them up tight. “I’m going to find out who he is. I’ll make sure you’re safe. You don’t have to do this. Trust me.”

The words were too little too late when it came to him. She couldn’t put her faith in someone who couldn’t do the same with her, and he’d made his lack of belief painfully clear with words that had nearly hacked her in half.

“I did when it came to you and I shouldn’t have.” She tilted her head back and looked him in the eye.

That was a mistake, because all she could see in the brown depths was the possibility of what could have been but never would be. Her chest ached, her throat tightened, and her knees almost gave out, but she couldn’t give in to it. He wasn’t hers and he never had been. The realization emptied her out, taking away her anger and frustration and sadness and leaving her with only a shell of herself. She inched back, pulling herself away from the security of his arms and standing on her own two feet.

“Your problem, Carlos, is that you can’t whip off enough of your own skin to pay for what you think was your own sin. You made the right choice when you fired that gun and killed Ivy, but you’re too caught up in your own guilt to see that. Until you do, it’s going to affect every part of your life.” She sucked in a shaky breath. This was the last time she’d ever see him, and she needed to say it all. “God knows it screwed up whatever it was that we had going, and that’s too bad, because it was real and totally unexpected. I wish we would have gotten to see where it would have taken us.” She swerved around him and pulled open her front door. “Good-bye.”

Silence so heavy it nearly broke her shoulders filled the room. She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. Instead, she stared at the natural waving pattern in the hardwood floor beneath her bare feet as she fought to keep from curling up into a tight little ball for the foreseeable future.

Carlos’s black boots passed by her sky-blue toes.

He paused just outside her door. “
Mi cielo
—”

“No.” The endearment smacked her across the face. Her whole body quaked. “You don’t get to call me that
ever
again. I started falling for you the moment you asked me to dance at Feeny’s. I fought against it. I lost. And you threw that love back in my face. Go away, Carlos. There’s no place for you here.”

He might have said more, but she couldn’t hear it over the rushing in her ears as she pressed her hand against the door and pushed it shut.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this plan?” Will asked.

It had started as an impulsive idea. She’d put herself out there at Battle Ultimate as bait for the dealer. Carlos was right: someone who shot Roger point-blank without even a twitch of doubt wasn’t a man to walk away from any loose ends. The more she’d thought about it and strategized, the more she’d known it was the right move.

Will and Alex hadn’t been thrilled with her plan, but they’d agreed to it. Not that it mattered. No matter what, she was doing it. If she was going to protect her friends—her chosen family—she had to take a calculated risk. She had to trust herself, even if the man she loved—still loved—didn’t. She’d prove Carlos wrong.

C
arlos stared at the door, knowing he could pound his fist against it all he wanted and she wouldn’t open it again. This kind of fuck-up he couldn’t fix. Not right now. What he could do was find a way to protect Mika at the Battle Ultimate. The guys at Maltese were good—fuck, they were great—at keeping clients safe, but what was going down tomorrow wasn’t like anything they’d ever experienced before—and Mika wasn’t just another client.

They’d never be able to keep up at the Battle Ultimate trying
to keep all of the costumed characters straight, determining where there was actual danger, and watching over everything. Mika would be on her own. That wasn’t about to happen. He hustled down the stairs and out into the day’s bright light. She may not want his help, but she was getting it anyway. It was the least he could do for the woman he loved.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

A horn blared and a yellow cab swerved around him, the driver flipping him off through the open window.

Carlos barely noticed the commotion, his brain was too busy trying to catch up with what his body had known that first night. Mika fit him in all the right places. She’d snuck her way past all his defenses and found him. He’d just been too fucking stupid to realize it.

Mi cielo…

She was his heaven, and he wasn’t about to lose her now. He’d do whatever it took to keep her safe tomorrow, and then spend the rest of his life, if that’s what it took, to convince her to take him back.

He grabbed his phone and opened his contacts list. It took a while to find what he was looking for. It had been a year since he’d called, but it was still there. He hit talk and hurried across the street to his car.

Ryan Hasley was an old Magic Battledome buddy and a member of Mika’s Silver Queen’s court. If anyone could help, it was him. He answered on the second ring.

“It’s Carlos. I need a solid.” He unlocked his car and slid into the driver’s seat.

“Tell me you’re going to be a part of the Silver Queen’s court during the Battle Ultimate tomorrow and I’ll do whatever you need,” Ryan said.

“Sort of. I need a costume and a pass to get in.” He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life, ready for action.

“Does Mika know?” Ryan asked.

He glanced into his rearview mirror, strategically angled to reflect Mika’s loft and the window where she’d stood earlier today. It was empty now. “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”

“Yeah, she has that effect on people.”

“So can you help?”

“Do ogres like to floss with sheep bones?”

“Thanks, man. Your place in a few hours good?”

“See you then.”

Carlos cut off the call and merged into traffic. He headed east toward the Maltese offices. He might still be on forced vacation, but he needed a few items from the company’s armory. Lucky for him, he’d set up the security system so that breaking in wasn’t going to be any trouble.

Chapter Fourteen

“Every time we choose what we are going to wear, we make a statement about who we are in the world.”

—Bruce Friedrich

S
aturday arrived warm and blustery. The wind made the canvas walls of Mika’s tent in Central Square Park billow and wave. Danger waited outside, but she was ready for it.

She slipped on the above-the-knee-length cotton underdress, soft and snowy white with strands of silver thread that formed the pattern of the Dyrnwyn sword—an exact replica in size and placement of the tattoo on her back. Next came the silver
breastplate custom-made to fit her every curve. It was made of latex, but she’d designed the pattern on top to look like individual pieces of steel weaved together to form an impenetrable covering. As soon as she secured it by lacing up the front-tying corset, the transformation into the Silver Queen had begun.

She secured the breastplate flap enriched with the purple crest for the Silver Queen and slipped on her armored skirt. Next came the greaves shin guards with the inner pocket for her cell phone and gauntlets that covered her wrists, both made from white pleather. The final additions were the shoulder-length platinum wig and silver glitter that covered her eyebrows. By the time she covered her lips in purple frosted lipstick, the transformation was complete. Mika was gone and the Silver Queen had taken her place. No one stood a chance against her—not even the man who thought of her as just another loose end.

It had been a week and the dealer hadn’t made a single move toward her, but she knew Carlos was right. He wasn’t gone forever. If she couldn’t draw him out, he’d lurk in the shadows until the perfect time to strike. She was done waiting around.

She picked up the two-and-a-half-foot-long curved Japanese tachi sword. It had been in the Ito family for generations, and she’d learned how to wield it with deadly accuracy under her dad’s tutelage. After her sister died, her dad had given it to her before he left for Japan. That’s when she’d known he was never coming back. She sheathed the tachi sword and picked up her boffer, the foam sword with a fiberglass core she used to slay her enemies in LARP battles.

Someone tapped against her sealed tent door. “My queen, your court is gathered. Are you ready?”

She smoothed her clammy palms down the smooth latex surface of her armored skirt, then turned and unfastened the tent’s door. It fell open, revealing thirty people, all dressed in varying shades of white, purple, and silver. Most had painted their faces in either a dark aubergine or a bright silver. A few had pointed ear extensions or white wigs to accessorize their pale silver armor. None had the vestments she’d made from the cocaine-tainted material. Anyone who still had one had surrendered it to the police.

Each member of her court looked up at her as she emerged from the tent. She pressed her fist to her latex-covered belly and inhaled as deep a breath as her corset would allow. Nervous energy buzzed through her body, jolting her to a state of almost hyperawareness. They were her family, maybe not by blood, but that didn’t matter. They needed her, and it was time she fulfilled that duty.

“Thank you all for coming out for Battle Ultimate,” she said.

They responded with hearty huzzahs, but the sound died out fast. She searched the crowd and saw the worried eyes, the anxious hand-wringing, and the lowered gazes. Misery ran like a poisonous undercurrent through her court, pinching her heart. After all they’d been through with the attacks, they needed a check in the win column.

“There is a lot on the line today,” she continued. “The winner takes home the Dyrnwyn sword and rules the four kingdoms for the next year. We don’t call it the Ultimate for nothing. Each of the other kingdoms will fight tooth and nail for the Dyrnwyn sword, but
we
have an advantage over them.”

The fidgeting stopped as agitated fingers released twisted material.

“We have faced adversity…and we did it together, as a family. I would not wish the past few weeks on even the Cerulean Monk tribe, but I am so proud that we have come through on the other side. As you all know from the reports in the newspaper, Roger is dead. The tainted material is gone.”

But not before several people had been hurt. Carlos had been right, she had led the wolf right to the hen house and invited him inside. “I’m so sorry I got everyone into this mess when I took home the wrong bolt of material. I hope you can forgive me.”

The bruises would heal and the memory would fade, but none of them would be the same. If she didn’t make it through today, she wanted them to know she was sorry. She held up her hand to quiet the murmurs. “But today is not about the past. It’s about claiming our destiny. It’s about our future. Tonight we take home the Dyrnwyn sword. Will you follow me into battle?”

Her court’s roar of affirmation was immediate and heartfelt. It buttressed her flagging spirits and gave her the strength she needed to do what she had to next. In the back of the crowd sentinels, Will and Alex stood in black in a sea of white, silver, and purple. She’d agreed to always stay in their sights. It was a promise she was about to break. If the dealer was out there, he’d see her as a nonthreatening loose end, easily taken care of, as long as she was on her own. But if Alex and Will flanked her, she’d never be able to get close enough to take him out. He’d spot her guards and take off. That couldn’t happen. This ended today.

While her court chattered as they waited for the Heralds Trumpet to sound the start of the Battle Ultimate, she slipped back inside her tent. Right before the door flap swung shut, she spotted a silver knight watching her. He stood silent and apart from the rest of her court. Something about the way he stood off to the side like a loner and the stubborn tilt to his chin made her heartbeat quicken with awareness, and she took a half step forward before she caught herself and forced her feet to still. It wasn’t Carlos. He’d made it plain he’d never go back to being one of the weirdoes in their funny costumes. It was just one last ember of hope her heartbreak hadn’t been able to extinguish—yet. The fact was Carlos was gone, just like she’d demanded. It was for the best; she had other demons to fight than heartbreak.

It was a grim reminder that whatever happened next, she was on her own. No one could help. Not even the man she loved.

C
arlos faded back to the edge of the crowd. For a second, right before she’d disappeared into her tent, Mika had looked his way, and he would have sworn she’d known it was him. It was a ridiculous idea. He wore forty pounds of armor, had covered his face in thick silver paint, and a white wig hid his brown hair. Still, he couldn’t shake the sensation that jolted his system when she looked his way. It had sizzled its way down to his toes and singed the ground beneath his boots.

He scanned the crowd, recognizing most of the costumes if not the people inside them
. Of course, he didn’t need to see beyond the makeup. That’s what the software was for. After leaving Maltese Security’s armory yesterday, he’d mounted surveillance cameras throughout the battlefield. In addition to the criminal arrest database search for the man with the scar and the limp he had already been running, he’d set up a facial recognition program to scan the crowd. It digitally erased any makeup the player was wearing to reveal the person underneath. That face was compared with the driver’s license photos of the players who were registered for the Battle Ultimate. Anyone scanned who wasn’t registered for the event set off an alert that was sent to Carlos’s smart watch. And the system was working. It had already sent alerts for himself and Mika’s Maltese bodyguards, Will and Alex.

A tall shadow blocked out the afternoon sun. Carlos fisted his hands and pivoted to face the threat. Alex stood just out of punching range, scowling at him.

“Almost didn’t recognize you in your Lord of the Rings garb, but I don’t remember that Legolas dude compulsively popping his knuckles like you do.” Alex cocked an eyebrow. “What in the fuck are you doing here, anyway?”

“My job.” He turned back to face Mika’s tent. She’d gone in without any of her people moments before the Heralds Trumpet blew, sounding the start of Battle Ultimate. Another person might be cowering in her tent, worried about the dealer finding her, but not Mika. She was up to something.

“Try again,” Alex said.

“I can’t let her do this alone.” Mika needed him. Even if he couldn’t win her back, he could keep her safe.

“She’s not alone. Will and I have her covered.”

His smart watch vibrated. It was the motion detector outside her tent, but the movement recorded wasn’t someone breaking in, it was someone breaking out. Mika had ditched them. He could easily catch up on foot at this point, but then he’d blow his cover. She didn’t want him there, so to help her, he had to hide from her. That meant using his eyes in the sky.

“If you’ve got her covered…” Carlos pulled out his cell phone and opened up the facial recognition surveillance program. “Where is she?”

“Big-ass tent.” Alex sounded sure, but he was already reaching for the communicator worn in his ear Secret Service–style.

“Go look.” His thumbs flew across the phone’s tiny keyboard, adjusting the code so it would alert any time Mika was spotted. He’d follow from a safe distance behind. “I promise you, she’s not.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because she’s protecting her family, and she can’t do that with you on her ass.” Carlos watched his screen as he popped the knuckles on his left hand and waited for her trail to appear like digitized breadcrumbs on the Battle Ultimate map.

“We told her not to go off on her own.”

Carlos snorted. “You don’t know shit about women, Alex.”

“And you do?” Alex asked, incredulous.

“When it comes to Mika?” Smart. Stubborn. Impulsive. Sexy as hell. “I do.”

Alex shook his head and pressed the talk button on the earpiece. “Roscoe, meet me at the tent. She may have flown the coop.” Without another word to Carlos, he weaved his way through the crowd toward the tent.

Will and Alex had underestimated her. They’d looked at Mika in her geeky T-shirts and LARP paraphernalia and decided this was all there was to her, that she didn’t have it in her to do whatever it took to fight for those she loved no matter the odds. They were wrong—hell, he was wrong—there was more to Mika than seen at first glance. She was smart and brave and determined to protect those she loved. The only person she didn’t protect was herself, but that was now Carlos’s job, and if he had his way, it would be his permanent career.

Two white dots lit up on his screen, leading north from the Silver Queen’s tent.

His heart sped up. “Hold on,
mi cielo
, I’m coming.”

T
he Battle Ultimate took up the most wooded section of Central Square Park, but after years of Magic Battledome LARPing, Mika knew the twisted paths better than most. The leaves crunched under her feet as she turned off the path to make her way between the tall trees. The playing field’s eastern boundary lay a few hundred yards ahead. Activity tended to be limited in this area to avoid holding battles in the midst of mundanes. That made it the perfect spot to conduct business unobserved.

Treaties, secret alliances, and covert betrayals were negotiated in the borderland—and if she was right, so wer
e drug deals. Really, it was a perfect cover. No one would look twice at a mundane who had drifted into the borderlands, and any mundanes watching would be too distracted by the over-the-top costumes and action to pay attention to what was going on right in front of their eyes.

She crested a hill. From that vantage point, she could see down the path marking the edge of the battlefield. Parents pushed children on swings at the small playground on the other side. Joggers passed by with their earbuds in. An old couple walked hand in hand down the path, oblivious to anyone but each other. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she surveyed the area as disappointment weighed down her limbs like she had anvils attached to her fingertips. She’d been so sure. This was supposed to be the end of the worry, of the looking over her shoulder, and of the ghosts of mistakes past. Her chest tightened, squeezing out the last drops of hope. Carlos wasn’t the only one looking for redemption and failing to find it.

A twig snapped, her breath caught, and she whipped around. Josh, one of her royal guard, stood two feet away in his silver armor, his face painted a dark purple. The air in her chest leaked out in a whoosh of relief. He must have seen her sneak away and followed, as was protocol.

“Josh, you scared the crap out of me.” She walked away from the border and back toward the battlefield. “Come on, let’s get back to the battle.”

He didn’t budge. “You shouldn’t have come to the borderlands.”

A warning buzz vibrated up her spine, but it didn’t make sense. Josh was one of her royal guards. He’d been one of the first to be attacked. Roger had left him with a sprained ankle that had given him a slight limp.

She jerked to a stop midstride. The masked drug dealer had favored his left leg. He’d spoken so softly that it had been hard to hear him over the panic rushing in her ears, but there had always been something familiar about his voice.

Her hand went to the hilt of her tachi sword, and she wrapped her shaking fingers around the leather-wrapped steel hilt. She raked her gaze over him, stopping at the pale scar at the base of his throat. She hadn’t opened the hen house door to the wolf; he’d been inside the whole time. Icy-cold certainty solidified in her veins.

“You.” She freed her blade, keeping her touch light and her footing steady.

“I was wondering if you’d ever figure it out.” He jerked his chin at her sword. “Are you planning to slice and dice me?”

“That’s too good for you.” The urge to do just that had her tightening her grip, even as she knew she couldn’t do it. “You’re going to face justice for the misery you caused.”

He threw his head back and laughed, as though totally unimpressed with her threat. “Really, I think taking care of Roger would weigh in my favor with a jury. He was an idiot putzing around with half a kilo here and half a kilo there. He had no plan. He had no vision. I came up with the import plan to bring it in by soaking the material in liquid cocaine using a formula that made it virtually undetectable from regular fabric. I found the suppliers. I made the deal with Diamond Tommy Houston to distribute in Harbor City. Then that asshole Roger gave you the wrong fabric. Worst of all, the idiot didn’t even realize it. Imagine my shock when I got the vestment you’d made from my fabric.”