Designed for Murder (Killer Style) (14 page)

“How could you do this?” Josh had been a part of Magic Battledome longer than she had. “How could you hurt your own friends?”

“The only friends I have are the dollar bills in my bank account.” Josh shrugged as he adjusted his stance, taking a defensive posture. “Everything else is transient.”

He reached behind his back and pulled out a broadsword. Three feet long and heavy, judging by the way his forearms bulged as he held it aloft, there was no way it was a LARP-approved foam imitation. “You want to give up now, Silver Queen.”

“That’s what you think.” She was rusty, but swordplay was like riding a bike. She just had to remember to keep her balance and let her hands lead the way.

She flicked her wrist. The point of her sword sliced through the inadequate defense of his mock breastplate, leaving two flaps where there had only been one solid piece of latex before. Josh didn’t flinch. A quiet, icy calm settled in Mika’s center. He raised his sword high like a battle-ax and swung it down with a deep grunt. She leaped to the left. His sword hit the ground by her feet, sending dirt flying.

She parried, striking his shoulder hard and fast. A scarlet circle soaked through the white of his costume. With a great angry roar, he rushed her. She spun left. His blade missed by inches, but his elbow connected with her eye socket. She struggled to maintain her balance. He swung his sword, and she jumped back, but the tip sliced through her latex armor, drawing a bloody line across her abdomen. If it had been a sharper blade, or Josh a better swordsman, her guts would be all over the ground by now.

Time to end this. Josh outweighed her by at least thirty pounds and had a good eight inches on her five foot two inches, but she was fighting for more than her life. She was fighting for her friends.

Thrust. Parry. Strike. She aimed for his legs, slicing away at his vulnerable flesh and dancing out of reach. Again and again she hit her target while managing to stay just out of his reach.

Her blade found its mark in the juicy part of his thigh. Josh screamed and fell face-first to the ground. She kicked the hilt of his sword, sending it spinning away from him.

“Stay down.” She reached for her cell phone tucked into her shin guard so she could call Alex.

Josh rolled over and threw a handful of gritty soil at her face. The little particles pelted her eyeballs like boulders. He rushed to his feet. She stumbled back. He plowed his shoulder into her sternum, sending her the rest of the way down.

The back of her hand hit a stone, knocking the sword from her grasp. Josh landed a hard punch to her stomach. Then another. And another. She rolled onto her side, reflexively curling into a ball.

“Oh no you don’t.” He pinned her shoulders with his hands and forced her flat on her back.

Pain wracked her body, and blood seeped from the cut on her stomach.

Josh pressed his knees down against her wrists, immobilizing her arms, then released his hold on her shoulders. She braced for another punch. But instead of smashing his fist into her face, he curled his hands around the base of her neck, cutting off her air.

Panic jolted through her. She bucked. She thrashed. She gave every last ounce of power in her muscles to try to throw him off. But he remained looking down at her dispassionately, without a glimmer of the Josh she’d known for years left in him.

“Don’t worry, my liege,” he said. “I’m not going to kill you. There are other options for pretty little things.” He tightened his grip around her throat. “They’ll pay top dollar for you—even with the bruises.”

Fighting against the darkness creeping into her vision, she sank her fingernails into his shins, scraping downward and tearing the flesh. He howled but didn’t release his hold.

Mika’s lungs burned. Her arms fell away from her, as if they weren’t hers. The trees disappeared. The sky faded to black. The man above her vanished into nothing. Everything was gone except for one last vision of the familiar silver knight outside her tent. Except now, consciousness slipping away from her, the knight in her vision had his faceplate up, and she could see his face.

Carlos. In her mind it was Carlos—always.

She couldn’t hear him over the rushing river in her ears, but she didn’t need to in order to know what words his lips formed.

Mi cielo
, he said as he wrapped his arms around her.

Mi cielo
, he said as his mouth brushed against hers.

Mi cielo
, he said as he pledged forever with his body.

He called her his heaven, but he was hers. In the half world between life and death, she realized that it wasn’t Carlos’s lack of faith in her that had hurt so badly. It was her own lack of faith in herself. She’d blamed herself for past sins just as harshly as he did. It was past time they learned to forgive themselves.

Josh’s grip tightened and the white blur eating away the edges of her vision of Carlos’s face brightened with an overwhelming sense of peace and love. There was love—hers for him and his for her. It was total and all-consuming.

And then, there was nothing.

Chapter Fifteen

“Style is something that each of us already has. All we need to do is find it.”

—Diane Von Furstenberg

M
ika’s digital trail on Carlos’s phone had ended on the edge of the Battle Ultimate borderlands, but she wasn’t there. He scanned the perimeter. Over the hill, there was a jogging path and a playground, but no Mika. Turning his back on the mundane part of the park, he surveyed the woods. Nothing. Not a flash of white or a glimmer of silver or a single trace of her.

Unease creeped up his spine and he checked his cell phone again. The single white dot blinked on the screen, the coordinates a few feet from where he stood. The camera had l
ogged her in at this spot. After that, she’d disappeared.

Fear—true fear—jacked up his heart rate and twisted his guts into knots. He’d been so sure. So fucking confident that he could protect Mika from a distance—that he could keep her at arm’s length just like he had everyone and everything else since he’d shot Ivy. But he couldn’t. Love didn’t work that way—and he didn’t work without her.

Possibilities—each one worse than the one before—crowded his mind as he pulled up the log for the camera trained on this spot. There hadn’t been time to set up a recording option, so all he had was the documentation of the motion-activated facial recognition software.

It would be enough.

It had to be.

Mika showed up.

A few minutes later, it logged in another person. Josh Cloak. After that the log was blank. He wracked his brain, recalling everything he could remember about Josh. He was one of Mika’s royal guard. so it could have been a strategy meeting. The guy had been one of the first people in the group to be attacked by Roger, and his background check had been lily white. Maybe Mika had enlisted him to help? Josh had been injured, his ankle—

Carlos’s world jerked to a stop. The limp. The strange whispering like he was afraid of his voice being recognized. The scar. Carlos pulled up a close-up of Josh’s driver’s license photo. It was faint, but the scar at the base of his throat was there. Everything clicked into place. In the beginning, they’d figured it had been an inside job, but had abandoned the theory after drugs came into play. A stupid mistake. The last one he’d make on this case.

Fighting the instinctual urge to run through the park and track that bastard down like a rat on a sinking ship, Carlos entered the code in the facial recognition program to narrow down the search parameter. It would take a few minutes, but it would give Josh’s last known location—with any luck it wasn’t the spot where Carlos stood.

While the program ran, he dialed up Alex.

“Tell me you have eyes on her,” Alex answered.

“He’s got her.” He fought against the dread those words inspired. His feelings didn’t matter right now. Nothing mattered if he didn’t find Mika and fast.

“Fuck me running. What’s your twenty?”

“I’m at the eastern edge of the battlefield, but don’t come here.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Josh Cloak has her.” And he was going to pay for it. Soon.

“The doofus with the big-ass fake sword?”

“I sure as hell hope it’s fake.” The asshole was toast. He just didn’t realize it yet. Carlos couldn’t wait to inform him. “I set up cameras around the park last night. I just reprogrammed the facial recognition software program I’m running to pinpoint his location.”

“What do you need from us?” Alex asked.

His smart watch buzzed. A green dot showed Josh’s last known location as about half a mile northwest. “Got him. I’m texting you the coordinates now. Get there as fast as you can.”

A plan gelling into place with each breath, he hung up on Alex and speed-dialed Ryan.

“Yo man, where are you?” Ryan asked. “Are you with Mika? No one can find her.”

He brought his former battle buddy up to speed as fast as possible and got to the point. “I need a distraction—an epic battle sort of distraction.”

“Then that’s just what you’ll get,” Ryan said.

“I’m texting the coordinates now. Be there in five.” Carlos hung up and sent the coordinates.

Turning his back on the mundane world with its kids on swings and clueless joggers, he ran onto the battlefield with only one goal in mind: save Mika. After that, he’d figure out what to do next to convince her to save him.

T
he world s
pun while Mika held onto the thick grass and tried to get her bearings. A canvas bag covered her head. She sat propped up against a tree, a rough cord holding her wrists together behind her back and tethered to the tree. She rubbed her skin raw each time she tried to squirm free. Every inhale started a brushfire in her battered throat, but it was so much better than the alternative. Pain meant she was alive. She focused on it and let her body scream its agony, but only for a moment. She wasn’t about to sink into oblivion again. She would fight.

She bent forward as far as she could while bringing her legs up, clamped her knees together, and trapped the corner of the bag between them. Then she pulled it off.

She turned her head and spotted Josh. A bulky and brown knapsack sat at his feet. That couldn’t be part of his costume. Of course, it wasn’t like he was actually here for the Battle Ultimate.

“Is that the drugs?” she croaked.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” He didn’t bother to look back at her; instead he continued to watch the horizon. “Your ride is on his way.”

Her already aching throat tightened. “Ride where?”

He shrugged. “Does it really matter?”

It didn’t, because she wasn’t going. If she had to claw, bite, or rabbit-kick him into next week, she wasn’t going anywhere. His words should have frightened her. They should have spilled cold panic across her skin. Fuck that. She had too much to live for to give up now. Her family was out there in those woods—and somewhere out in Harbor City was Carlos. She wasn’t about to abandon any of them without one hell of a fight. Love wasn’t always easy, but it always won in the end.

Josh didn’t stand a chance.

Taking advantage of his focus on watching out for whomever was coming, she sawed her bonds around her wrists up and down against the tree’s rough bark. The friction heated the cord, making it burn against her skin, but that didn’t matter. Along with the pain came the realization that the rope was shredding.

As she worked to free herself, she watched Josh. He remained unconcerned about her, but whoever was coming must have had him worried. Along with the sword sheathed on his back, he had a gun in his hand and another one holstered at his thigh Han Solo–style.

A soft
pop
sounded behind her. Followed by another. And another. They sounded just like Carlos when he popped his—

He was here. He’d found her. Even if he didn’t think he was the white knight he thought she needed or deserved, he was the only one she wanted—the only one she loved.

A battle cry sounded in the distance, followed by the unmistakable chant of the ogres. Josh spun around, his gun at the ready. Then the noise was everywhere, coming from all sides. Screeching. Clanging of weapons. Yells. Battle cries. Whatever it was had surrounded them, but she couldn’t see anything moving in the trees. The cacophony built higher and higher until her teeth nearly rattled from the sheer volume of it all.

Josh’s movements became jerky as he aimed the gun at one section of the woods surrounding their clearing and then another.

Her breath caught. He’d shoot the first thing to flicker among the trees. She yanked her wrists, but still she couldn’t pull them free. The only thing she could do was pull his attention from what was going on in the woods.

“It’s not gonna work out for you,” she yelled. “You’ll never get away with it.”

He cut a glare her way. “Forgive me for not shivering in my boots over threats from a woman who’s tied up and at my mercy. Now shut up before I choke you out again.”

A silver knight rushed out of the woods, his booming war cry piercing the air ordering Josh to halt. There was no mistaking that voice, especially not with the knuckle pops before. It was Carlos. He flipped up his visor, confirming it, and then grabbed a huge tree branch with both hands, swung it like a baseball bat, and knocked the gun from Josh’s grasp.

Carlos’s face was red with fury. “You’re going to very much regret doing that before I’m done with you.”

T
he crack of bone snapping ignited someth
ing raw and primal in Carlos. Alex, Will, and the LARPers had done their part by creating a diversion. Now it was his turn. This man had had the audacity to harm Mika, and he was going to pay the price.

Josh howled in pain and clutched his injured arm close to his chest as he reached behind his head and unsheathed a sword with a deadly steel blade. “Back the fuck off, man.”

Carlos spun the tree limb just like he used to do warming up in the batter’s box, letting his muscles stretch and relax. “Not gonna happen.”

Everything slowed down as his senses became heightened. It was like everything disappeared except for the three of them. Carlos positioned himself on the opposite side of where Mika was secured to a tree in order to better draw Josh away from her, then centered all of his attention on the drug dealer. Josh was cornered and out of options, but he wasn’t the kind to give up and play dead. There’d be a fight. Carlos couldn’t wait.

The sword shook in Josh’s hand, the weight too heavy for a single-handed grip, as he held it straight out. With a desperate roar, he ran straight at Carlos.

Carlos pivoted to the left at the last possible moment and shot out a leg, sending Josh stumbling forward. Balance already off because of the sword’s weight, Josh nearly fell face-first into the grass. For a second, Carlos figured it was a foregone conclusion. But then the dealer pulled up. He dropped the sword and let his injured arm dangle at his side.

“I lied the other night at Mika’s studio. I’m going to kill you first.”

Carlos grinned, bracing for attack. “You can try.”

The other man burst forward, then veered a sharp left, heading straight for a brown backpack near Mika. Carlos ran at him, diving for Josh’s legs and missing by inches. He landed on the ground with enough force to knock the air from his lungs.

Seizing the momentary advantage, the dealer snagged the backpack with his injured arm, visibly wincing, and pulled a gun from a thigh holster with his good hand.

“Carlos!” Mika screamed.

She kicked out at Josh’s legs right as he pulled the trigger. The shot went wild. A burning pain zipped across Carlos’s ass. He vaulted up from the ground and charged, sending Josh flying. He followed him to the ground, landing on top of him with the full impact of all his weight. He clamped one hand around Josh’s arm and slammed it again and again against a rock until the gun dropped from his grasp.

Carlos scooped it up in the same motion as he stood, planted one foot hard against Josh’s throat, and aimed at the dealer’s head. All it would take was the bending of one finger tugging the trigger back and he’d be gone forever.

“Don’t do it,” Mika said.

The urge to shoot and avenge Mika tore through him. “He deserves it.”

“Death is too easy for him,” she said. “He needs to pay for what he did.”

The gun felt so comfortable in his hand, so right. Pulling the trigger would be so easy, and no one would miss a piece of shit like Josh. He deserved to die—not just for what he’d done to Mika but for how the drug-dealing scum had made the people of Harbor City suffer. He stroked the trigger.

Mika laid her cheek softly on his shoulder. The kind touch reminded him of what he’d lose if he took the shot. He’d lose the woman he loved—his heaven—and probably his soul, too. Carlos wasn’t hesitating out of guilt for what happened with Ivy. He could finally accept that he didn’t have a choice in that instance. It was a millisecond of time in which he had to pick between saving two good lives or ending one bad one. This time he did have a choice. He chose Mika.

“Consider yourself lucky, asshole.” He lowered the gun to his side and removed his boot from the other man’s windpipe.

Josh sucked in a desperate breath. “Just kill me. I’m dead anyway. Diamond Tommy’s guys will get me before I ever make it to a bail hearing.”

“It sucks being someone’s loose end, doesn’t it?” Carlos snarled.

Leaves rustled around them as Alex and Will strode into the clearing. Both men stood guard over Josh, weapons pulled and aimed at his heart.

“The cops and ambulances are on their way,” Alex said. “Those other guys did a hell of a job making a distraction. Shit. I thought we were under attack from aliens.” He looked down at Josh, who again clutched his injured arm close to his chest. “You could make a deal with the DA. Give them Tommy in exchange for protective custody in prison.”

“I like to dress up and play role-playing games, but that doesn’t mean I’m a naive idiot,” he said. “Once I get in the back of a patrol car, my personal countdown clock is ticking. Everyone knows it.”

Carlos crossed his arms. “Then you’d better talk fast.”

“I don’t have anything. I never talked directly to Tommy—just people who said they worked for him.” Josh’s voice went up an octave at the end of his declaration, bone-deep panic finally settling in.

“Then you’d better hope they were lying,” Carlos said. “Because you’re looking at a lifetime behind bars, and Tommy hates loose ends more than you do.”

Carlos turned on his heel and marched across the clearing to Mika, pulling his utility knife out of a pocket hidden in his costume’s breastplate. Purple finger-shaped bruises marred her throat. Her costume was ripped, and a skinny line of blood had dried on her stomach.

Angry heat burned its way up from his toes, and the need to go back and shoot that son of a bitch pounded against his skull. But Mika was more important than revenge. So he squatted down, ignoring the blinding white flare of pain in his ass from where the bullet had done its damage, and he focused on the woman he loved.

Emotions ate away at him as he opened the knife and went to work on Mika’s bindings. He didn’t have the words to say what he needed to. How did he apologize for letting the woman he loved nearly die? How did he take back the words he’d said when he’d been desperate to push her away? What did he say when there wasn’t enough sorry in the world to make up for what he’d done?