Violent Heart: A Dark Reverse Harem (A Death So Sweet Book 3) Page 5

  “My room is on the second floor,” I said, “when you’ve found whatever it is you’re looking for and are ready to go.” Spinning on my bare feet, I turned and continued down the stairs, well aware of Fang watching me go.

  That one, I really didn’t know what to make of him. An interesting character, that’s for sure. I bet there weren’t many people like him in this city, let alone the world.

  I reached my room, standing in the center of it as I shed my dress, finally. The thing had seen a lot, and it frankly needed to be burned. Aiden had touched the dress’s fabric. Plus, all that blood was never going to come out. There wasn’t enough magic in the world to make that dress wearable again. A pity, because it was pretty, and, like the rest of the world, I liked pretty things.

  Once I was naked, I walked across the hall and into the bathroom. I didn’t know what I’d change into; figure I’d wait until I washed all this blood off me, first. I got in the shower, turning the water as hot as it would go. It felt odd, being in this house, knowing the Lucianos weren’t here and that a man I’d never met before was upstairs, going through Daddy Luciano’s things.

  What happened? Did they move after what happened to Viper and Mike? Maybe they had a safe house somewhere, where no DeLucas could possibly find them. A gal could hope, and I was hoping really hard.

  They were okay, I told myself as I let the water hit my back, they had to be. If they weren’t, there was literally no point in Bianca having Tony keep me at the Gilded Rose, no point in meeting her at all. If I killed Maddox and Sylvester for her, she would think I’d become her loyal dog… but I was already a bitch with a leash, and she would never be the one who held onto it.

  The Lucianos would. I would die with their leash tight around my neck, and I didn’t care. I wouldn’t, because that’s right where I wanted to be.

  The water swirling the drain was pink for the longest time, and since I felt like I needed a full-body cleanse, I didn’t just rinse off. I did the full shebang, shampooing my hair, conditioning it, washing my body and shaving it. I took my time, mostly because I felt like I needed to fully get rid of last night’s stench.

  What I wouldn’t give to have Maddox or Sylvester or Viper pop in the shower with me and warm me up with their bodies, their hands and mouths. Oh, God, yeah, I could really go for some sex. Something to get my mind off things, to bring me back to the present and remind me that there was still something worth fighting for, even if, in the end, I would lose.

  With a sigh, I turned the water off and stepped out, drying myself off in the steam. I never turned the fan on, preferring to get the mirror all cloudy and the thickness of the air to drip on the walls. Wrapping the towel around me, I combed my hair—all wet and blonde now, no red to be seen.

  The mirror I stared at, though it was full of condensation, was very similar to the one I’d shattered all that time ago, the mirror I’d tried to use to hurt myself because I just couldn’t take it. I’d been wrestling with these feelings for so long now, it almost didn’t feel real.

  I, Lola Harding, serial killer extraordinaire, was in love with not one, not two, but three men. Not many gals could say that, I bet.

  Hell, I wasn’t sure if that made me lucky or not. Having feelings for three different guys… and maybe they felt the same. Maybe not, though. Still, it was a pleasant thought for me—me, being a girl who’d lost her innocence so long ago, a girl who never thought anything in this world other than taking out the sleazebags would make her feel. All it apparently took was the right dick, and dangerous dicks at that.

  I needed to see them again. I hoped Viper was okay. I had to tell them how I felt, and not just that I cared for them. No, that was the easy way out. They needed to know that I loved them, and that I would go against the Bloody Princess herself to protect them. Go against her, end my brother’s miserable life, and get back at the traitorous Tony.

  One step at a time, and maybe, just maybe if I came out of it alive, I’d have a few more years with these guys.

  Pushing out of the bathroom, I went across the hall to my room, where I found Fang laying on my bed, his frame stretched out and relaxed. He didn’t even get up when I entered, didn’t move to look at me at all.

  I moved to my dresser, giving him my back as I pulled out a bra and panties. “What’s with the teeth?” I dropped the towel, reaching for my panties and slipping them on—a lacey red pair. Shooting a look over my shoulder, I saw Fang had sat up. Maybe to watch.

  Ah, well. He was lucky modesty wasn’t my thing.

  “I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone with silver teeth before,” I added, slipping on the bra next before heading to my closet and pulling out a pair of leather pants and a black shirt. If I was going to be a Luciano girl, I was going to look the part.

  He was silent, watching me warily. Not very talkative right now, clearly.

  “Tell me,” I went on, chatting away enough for the both of us as I slipped on the pants, “were you called Fang before or after the teeth? Because I know you weren’t born like that, you know. Teeth like that… are intentional.”

  “Ever since I was a child, I had a bad habit of biting things,” he spoke in a whisper, his voice rough. “I earned myself the nickname a long time ago. Made it official when I put these in myself.” He ran a tongue over his teeth, and those long, sharp, silver canines glinted in the light.

  Like a vampire. Only real… and probably more psychotic.

  “Did it hurt?” Not sure why I was asking. Like, duh, obviously they hurt. They had to hurt. It didn’t look like his teeth were still under there, so I assumed he would’ve had to yank out his original teeth first. Ouch. Or, at least, I assumed it hurt, since pain and I weren’t really on talking terms.

  “What do you think?”

  I took that as a yes as I tugged my shirt down over my body. All that was left was to find some boots, and then the look would be complete. “Do you still have a bad habit of biting things?” It was none of my business, truly, but when faced with someone like him, a gal got curious.

  Very, very curious. Like, did his girlfriends—or boyfriends, I wasn’t judging—have teeth marks on their bodies? Did he scar them to remind them that they belonged to him? Hmm. It was kind of an enticing thought, or it would be if I wasn’t already spoken for, love-wise. Having a man like Fang possess you had to be fun.

  The look Fang gave me told me all I needed to know. Yes, he still liked to bite things. Why else would he have bothered with the fangs? Why would he have made them sharper and longer than a typical pair of canine teeth? Why go through all of that trouble if he wasn’t going to put them to use? Yeah, yeah, I know. Stupid question.

  Instead of answering me and my stupid question, Fang spoke, “You might want to pack a few things. Where we’re going… I don’t think they’ll have a closet to your liking, Night Slayer.”

  At that, I tossed him a glare. So the man did know who I was. Huh. How close were he and Sylvester, exactly? And then, of course, as I was wondering that, his words hit me: where we’re going, there won’t be a closet to my liking, which meant they were still alive, holed up somewhere else. Somewhere, I assumed, away from here, out of this city, where they could regroup and come up with a plan to get back at the DeLucas.

  Because after last night… there had to be retribution. Even if, by some miracle, no one was dead, it was only a matter of time until one of their attacks landed. Best to cut off the beast’s head as soon as possible, and I would gladly volunteer for the job.

  My life was forfeit anyway, thanks to my family. Maddox and Sylvester, they still had so much they could do with their lives. Rule this city, change it, be happy. Have a family. Have kids. Do things I could never do, have things I could never have. You know. The usual.

  I listened to Fang’s instructions and packed a bag full of extra clothes. No extra shoes; I figured I’d wear these boots with every outfit I could. I did pause by my dresser, where a box rested. My heart ached just looking at it. It was a box I’d long s
ince memorized, a box that had completely come out of the blue.

  What was inside it, you might be wondering? My mask. My mask that I’d missed so terribly last night. Felt kind of naked killing without it, which was just ridiculous. As the Night Slayer, I only had wigs as a mask, and that was before. Last night I had nothing… but then again, last night wasn’t exactly me at the top of my game. I’d messed up, left a witness who’d seen my face.

  Yeah, it was a damned good thing everybody in this city was in someone’s pocket.

  I opened the box, slowly pulling my mask out. My fingers danced across it, and as I touched the cool metal, a shiver crept up my spine.

  “Some of my finest work.” Fang’s voice came from right behind me, and I nearly jumped. I’d been so intent on the mask in my hand I didn’t even see him get up in the mirror or hear him move closer to me.

  I was so caught off-guard, it took me a moment to realize what he’d said. “What?”

  “The mask,” Fang explained, glancing down at it. “It’s not often I’m proud of how things turn out, but that mask is one of them.” His silvery gaze was intent on it, and I knew he wasn’t lying. What would he have to gain by lying? Absolutely nothing. He was a master with metal, apparently.

  “You made this?” I didn’t know why I was having such trouble with it, but with how gorgeous the mask was… I don’t know. I guess I just assumed it had a feminine touch on it, not, you know, this guy’s. He was barely holding back his batshit craziness.

  The way Fang looked at me right then told me I was stupid for asking. “Why would I call it some of my finest work if I didn’t make it?”

  Ah, good question. Very good question. Okay, I wasn’t quite all there in the head yet, so cut me some slack. Give me some time to catch up on things. It was just one thing after another lately. Like, a break here and there would be nice, you know? Let my mind catch up some.

  Finally, I got ahold of myself, dropping my gaze back to the mask as I muttered, “It’s beautiful. Very unlike its creator.” A jab at him, which probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but he was kind of jarring. A personality like his took some time getting used to, time we didn’t have. I had the feeling he would take me to them and then I might never see him again. Which was fine by me.

  Fang frowned at me, a deep-set look that I bet he wore more often than not. I giggled to myself, ready to go.

  Ready to see my twisted, psychotic lovers again.

  Chapter Three – Sylvester

  I paced the hall of the cabin, unable to help myself. It was such a small thing, this home in the woods, so far from the city we were used to. Its acreage was big, at least. There was a lot of space between this home and the neighboring one, so much so that my family had been able to build other log cabins on the same site. All near each other, a backup plan, should we ever need somewhere to escape. It was a place my father never spoke of to anybody… not even Maddox and I knew about it until last night.

  Until we needed it. Until we came running here with our tails tucked between our legs like the losing team.

  But we were the Lucianos. We weren’t the losers. It were those fucking DeLucas who were the losers. I’d give it my all just to see their family crumble, mark my words. After what they did last night… fuck, they must be laughing at us, and that possibility ground my gears like no other.

  My father emerged from the room nearby, his face a bit paler than it should’ve been. It’d been a long night, and today was shaping up to be an equally long day. Viper and Mike had been attacked. The Dollhouse was shot up. Lola was who knew where. Everything was a mess, and I worried that it was so messy, in fact, we wouldn’t be able to salvage the situation at all.

  I was worried this was it for us, that this was it for my family and our legacy in that city. The regular people didn’t care who ruled the city as long as their lives went about unchanged. They would flock to whoever had the most power; Tony had proved that loyalty meant nothing to most. The people who were still loyal to us we could count on our fingers and toes.

  And that was a sad thing indeed, because not too long ago we were the ones who ruled that city with an iron fist. We were the ones everyone came to when they had a problem that needed fixing. The Lucianos were the ones who knew all the dirty secrets of the politicians and high-ups at the police station and city hall.

  Things had begun to change when the Lucianos lost their matron, Maddox’s mother. Mario’s mother. I was on the streets while they were busy bonding with each other as mother and son often did, so I never had much time with her before she died. I never really thought much about it, but I did catch myself wondering how different things would be if she was still alive. Would Maddox be as mad as he was now, would Richard be as closed-off as he was? Would the Lucianos still have lost their power over the city, or was she the first domino that fell?

  So many questions, so few answers. They were answers I would never receive.

  My father wore the same suit he’d worn yesterday. We didn’t have time to pack clothes. Once it got to a more decent hour of the day, I’d have to go into town and buy some for all of us. I’d thought about sending Maddox, but if there was someone who could blend into a small town like this, it was not my crazy brother whose head was half-shaved and full of tattoos. That pressure fell on me.

  I glanced to the door he’d just walked out of, knowing both Viper and Mike were in the room. Only one was in a bed, though, fighting with the bullets currently lodged in his system. We had to get the metal out, but for that we needed someone who actually knew what they were doing. “How is he?”

  He let out a sigh, running a hand down his face. Stubble lined his jaw, his dark eyes tired. My father was not that old, but here and now, his age had caught up to him. Forty-some years, but even so, he was still one of the strongest men I knew. “Still breathing. Doc should be here sometime today.”

  Big Mike was the one who was unlucky last night. He and Viper were at their apartment while Carter and Lola were at the Gilded Rose. The whole place had been shot up while another crew had gone to the Dollhouse, where Roman and Carter’s girl worked. Mike had somehow drawn the shortest stick, taking quite a few bullets. One in his arm, one in his chest, one in his abdomen.

  Shit. It was bad. I didn’t know if he had much time left, if a doctor could even cut into him and dig the bullets out. It might be too late. The internal damage might already be done.

  I followed my father out of the hall, and we walked through the small, scarcely-furnished living room, pushing out onto the front porch of the house. It overlooked a whole bunch of trees. Trees, as far as the eye could see. The air here was clearer, crisper than it was back home. This place certainly was in the middle of nowhere. I could not see any of us staying here for long.

  We had to lick our wounds, muster up, and march back to that city and reclaim it.

  Maddox sat on the steps of the porch, his back hunched over. He looked absolutely miserable, like he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a bed and sleep for days. I knew the feeling.

  “Have I ever met this doctor?” I asked, leaning on the wooden railing near my father.

  “No,” he said. “I never have, either.”

  That got Maddox’s head to whip around, his black eyes to narrow at our father. “What? And you’re having him come here to work on Mike? How the fuck do we know we can trust him?”

  “We can trust him” was all our father said, and Maddox and I exchanged glances. Somehow, that wasn’t the most comforting thing to hear. As far as we knew, this doctor was a stranger to us. After what happened last night, trusting a stranger was the last thing any of us should do.

  Since Maddox was fuming at our father’s non-answer, I tried to dig a little deeper, saying, “How do we know he doesn’t work for the DeLucas?”

  “Because he doesn’t know who the DeLucas are. He works for a family in a place called Hillcrest.”

  Hillcrest. That sounded vaguely familiar. Wasn’t that where Roman and Carter’s
girl was from?

  “How do you know him?” I asked.

  “I don’t know him, personally,” he said. His hands were in his pockets, and he still looked so tired. On our way here, we used a payphone—because, yes, in the middle of nowhere, those things still existed—to contact Fang. Fang was supposed to go back to the house and grab something for him.

  Fang hadn’t acted too thrilled to do it, but he agreed to. He was a family friend, one of the ones who didn’t like getting involved in DeLuca or Luciano business, but when he was called, he answered.

  “I know the man he works for,” my father went on, dragging his gaze across the horizon, as if the doctor himself would magically pop up. “Years ago, just after Maddox was born, one of the DeLucas hired an assassin to kill me. Obviously, their plan backfired. I’m not an easy man to kill… which is why they’ve resorted to weakening everyone around me, first.”

  Maddox’s brows were furrowed. “What does an assassin have to do with anything? I mean, we have our own hitman. His name’s Roman, and he’s in that cabin over there—” He took on a smart tone, unwise when it came to dealing with our father.

  “What Roman does and what this family does are two different things,” our father explained, a muscle in his jaw tensing. “We send Roman out when we need someone taken care of. That family, though… they’re hired killers. They take whatever jobs pay well.”

  I’d never heard of an assassin trying to kill our father, and I found the thought quite hard to imagine. “So, what happened to the assassin?”

  “I killed him.”

  Okay… I was not sure where the hell this story was going or how it had anything to do with the doctor.

  He must’ve sensed I was still confused, for he added, “A few months later I was contacted by a man named Weston Scott. Turns out the assassin was a family member of his who decided to take the job without Weston’s approval. Weston’s a good man. We got along well. What we do might be different, but in the end, we are the same.”