Page 10 of In the Shadows

You would think because of our reputation, because of our role within this city that we would be cold and callous, completely devoid of feelings, but unfortunately that’s not the case, not entirely at least. It would be so much simpler if it were that way, if we could shut down our emotions completely, but sadly, that’s not our reality. No matter how ruthless we are, how many people we kill, or how many lives we ruin, we aren’t devoid of emotion.

I drop onto the edge of my mattress and let out a long breath. There are so many ways this could end badly, not least of which is this woman being planted here to take us down from the inside. We’ve been more on edge since Chicago, since the Lounder Cartel thought they could take us out and take our place. It’s the first time in three years anyone has thought to challenge us, and the last time someone did, we lost a member of our family. We lost my father, and we learned a lesson, or at least I did. Apparently, there are two people who didn’t and who are willing to allow history to repeat itself.

“How banged up is she?” I ask.

“Bad. Broken ribs, her arm is broken in two places, and she’s covered in so many bruises you can’t actually tell what color her skin is. It’s fucked up, and we don’t think she has anywhere to go. Why would she be alone and hurt in an alley if she had someone?”

“Maybe she was mugged.”

He tilts his head to the side like my suggestion is ridiculous, and it probably is. Muggers don’t tend to beat people within an inch of their lives to get a purse. “She wasn’t mugged, she was targeted.”

“Have you stopped to ask yourselves why she was targeted and whether her shit is going to come to our doorstep? Have either of you stopped to think at all?”

I’m getting more and more agitated the more I think about how fucking stupid the two of them are being, and why the fuck would Crew agree to this? He knows how much we lost the last time we trusted a woman. Why would he allow us to be in this position again?

“She’s just a girl, Kaos,” he growls. “She’s barely legal, she’s alone, and she’s hurt. Even you’re not so heartless to send her away, and neither is Crew.”

“You don’t know she’s legit.”

“Yes, I do. Of course I fucking do. You act like you were the only one she hurt, like you’re the only one who had your heart torn out when she betrayed us. We were all there with you, K. Every single one of us. But I knew there was something not quite right about her from the start. I’m a good judge of character, and you all forget that because of who I am. I fell for her in the end, but I always knew there was something off. This girl…she’s different. I saw it the second I laid eyes on her.” He turns to leave but pauses in the doorway. Silence stretches between us, but I’m not willing to break it, not when I’m certain he’s trying to say something, he’s just not sure how to. “If you’re so worried, just stay away from her, and we’ll keep her away from you.”

Before I can respond, he’s gone, and I’m left in my empty bedroom. I’ve liked it that way for a long time, craved the time with my own thoughts, but for the first time since she betrayed us and my father died as a result, I’m lonely in here.

CHAPTER EIGHT

CAMILLA

When I wake up again, it’s dark. The room I’m in is pitch-black, but I’m not alone. I can feel their presence, even if I can’t see it. The drugs knocked me out, but I’m not as groggy now as I was when I woke up the first time, and the pain has dulled slightly. Don’t get me wrong, agony still rages through every single fiber of my being, but it’s almost bearable.

The Syndicate of the Legion.

The Princes of the Underworld.

The four ruthless men who hold the key to the city, who keep law and order among criminals.

It doesn’t matter how many times I try to process the fact that I’ve found myself within the inner sanctum of the cruelest, most well-connected men in the city, it doesn’t quite sink in.

I’m so fucked. And not just because there’s a good chance they’re going to hand me over as soon as they realize who I am, but because I know who the two men who were taking care of me are, and neither are exactly the nurturing type. And the way they were looking at me, like I was theirs to take care of…it’s bad. It’s really fucking bad. Because being the object of Kovu Black’s affection is dangerous. I don’t have to have met the man to know that, his reputation precedes him. Bishop Black is almost as bad, but not because of his obsessive tendencies. No, the man with the iron poker face and the silver tongue can talk his way in or out of anything, and being at his mercy is almost as terrifying.

“I can hear you thinking from here, Little Lamb.” A deep voice fills the quiet room, and my heart stutters in my chest. How does he know I’m awake? I haven’t moved a muscle since I woke up, and I’ve even done my best to keep my breathing even despite the agony each breath brings.

“Sorry,” I whisper. I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for, or even if I should be giving away that I am in fact awake. I’m actually not totally sure what my best play is in this situation or if I should just allow myself to be handed over to the cruel man who bought my hand in marriage before I even drew my first breath.

It doesn’t seem to matter how much time passes, my eyes don’t adjust to the darkness, and it’s only when a warm hand envelops mine that I realize he’s moved closer to me. Or perhaps he was always there, lurking in the shadows like the demon whose name he claims. I don’t know a lot about them or how they came to power, but I’ve heard enough stories from my father’s guards over the years that upon their rise to their position, they were each given the name, The Princes of Hell, as the five families aptly named them.

When I first heard about their ridiculous name, I laughed hysterically. But now that I’ve met two of the four of them, I kind of see it. They’re every bit as terrifying as everyone says they are and not half as laughable as I expected. Fantastic.

“What are you sorry for, lamb?” he murmurs. It’s only now I realize he’s resting his cheek on the edge of the mattress, and his closeness makes my body ache for a whole other reason. I’m in so over my head with these men it’s almost comical. Almost. Perhaps I would find it funnier if I weren’t in such a vulnerable position, but right now I can’t quite find the funny side of any of it.

“I’m sure you have better things to do than babysit me.” I try to laugh, but the jostling makes me wince in pain. God, my ribs are sore. But then again, all of me hurts. I may be more lucid than I was earlier, but I’m still in excruciating pain.

“Nowhere I’d rather be,” he tells me, and for some reason I believe him. I have no reason to believe a single word that comes out of any of their mouths, but he sounds almost sincere. Well, as sincere as a crazy man who runs the New York underworld can be, I suppose. “Bishop had to go take care of something, but he’ll be back soon.”

“You don’t both have to be here. I can assure you I’m in no condition to go snooping, nor am I a flight risk.” I shouldn’t be talking like this to him, not when I’m injured, and certainly not when they’re the only thing standing between me and a life as Charles Davenport’s wife. I should play this smart, but the remnants of morphine running through my veins seem to have removed my filter.

He chuckles as his thumb begins stroking my hand gently. I never thought the men of the Legion would have a gentle bone in their bodies, but they’ve shown me nothing but kindness. I suppose it’s probably because they haven’t worked out who I am yet, or perhaps it’s them trying to keep me placated until my future husband can come collect me, if he still wants me after what his thugs did to me. Maybe they did me a favor, maybe they’ve saved me from a life of misery. Or maybe he’ll use me for another purpose if I’m not fit to be his wife. I’m pulled out of the horrid thought by Kovu’s gentle touches.

“We don’t think you’re a flight risk or that you’re going to snoop. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

---