Chapter Fifteen
Tomás
My bedroom window faced the backyard and for reasons I couldn’t say, I looked out. Luca stood under the artificial light, bathed in a yellowish hue surrounded by shadows. Covered in black from head to toe, he looked like a shadow himself. Was he even really there?
He moved out of the light and for a moment I thought he turned into a wisp of smoke and floated away. But when my eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding the yard, I caught sight of two twinkling eyes looking up at me. Waiting expectantly. The slight cock to his head questioning. Are you coming, or not? He wanted me to follow him.
I hated puzzles because I had no patience putting them together. Figuring shit on my own was hard. I missed clues. The answer could hit me upside the head and I’d still not get it. But I loved the chase for it, the thrill of doing something risky. Luca Mancini wanted me to chase him. A dangerous, alluring puzzle piece that hit all my buttons. I had lived for this shit when I ran with La Sagrada Sangre. At a moment’s notice, they’d call and we’d ride. My blood sang with anticipation. The want to chase that high I’d missed since I’d been here. My sensible side, a small part of my brain, warned me not to follow the man. But another, larger part was too curious to say no.
Fuck it.
I pulled on a pair of sweats, a hoodie with no t-shirt underneath, and shoes with no socks and I sprinted out of the house. The backyard was empty, but I caught a dark shape moving into the path. Yeah, the fucker wanted me to follow. This was a bad idea. The creep was in my room, stalking me. With creepy paint on his face. Not a good sign that he had all his marbles, but I still found my legs moving, following him. The early morning skies awaited the sun. The campus eerily silent. The ground hard from the cold that lingered in this part of the world. A subtle glow punctured the darkness like a will-o’-the-wisp. Nick had told me a scary story about the will-o’-the-wisp. They often lured lost travelers to their doom. Nick had a way of scaring the shit out of me. I was easy to scare when I’d been a kid. Now, I was too damn curious for my own good. Not smart enough to know not to follow the freaky light controlled by the freaky painted assassin.
I heard a snap and the light dropped to the floor.
A glowstick. Luca was lighting my way.
I followed.
Luca moved liked he belonged among the shadows, avoiding the shafts of moonlight breaking between the trees. He knew I followed so he only revealed himself whenever he cracked the light stick and dropped it on the ground to light my way. After several minutes of walking, I heard the lake nearby. The sound of the soft eddies gave me a reference to our destination. We were heading toward the chapel. Once I broke the clearing and entered the shadow of the chapel, I stopped. Luca stood with his back to me so still, he could’ve been a stone statue. The buzzing under my skin only intensified as I waited to see how this would play out. If he’d meant to kill me, he could’ve done it as I slept in my room. He didn’t have to bring me out here. Unless he planned something worse. I didn’t want to think about the something worse. The something worse would be bad.
I’d never claim to be the best judge of character, but Luca didn’t seem like a threat. Could he be? Yeah, hell, yeah. But there was something else to him. In truth, Luca reminded me of Kieran if Kieran had gone a little bit more wacko than he already was. I’d always separated Kieran’s sides in my head. His possessive side, his OCD side, the side of him that gave me control, the side of him that took control. The killer, the lover. We all had many sides of ourselves we showed when we needed to. When I’d met Luca at the theatre building, he felt dangerous. A predator out on a hunt. But now, with this paint, I felt as if he were searching for answers and he believed I had them.
He pulled something out of his hoodie, unfolded it and dropped it on the ground next to his feet with a glow stick. Then he disappeared around the chapel.
My stomach twisted. I couldn’t tell if it was out of anticipation or curiosity. Both, most likely. This was a clue, and I couldn’t just ignore it. Even if it could quite possibly be the death of me. I was the idiot who looked out whenever I heard gunshots, the one who wanted to know why the cops were on the corner, lights flashing.
Yeah. Me. The idiot.
I approached the glowstick and dropped down to pick up the clue. As soon as the dim blue glow cast a discolored aura over the picture in my hand I felt as if someone had poured ice cold water over me. I should’ve gone with my first instincts and ran. This wasn’t a clue to a puzzle. This was the puzzle. Somehow, Luca had gotten the same picture Cillian had when he took me. The picture of me and Kieran here at the chapel the night we had first kissed.
Luca knew.
A shadow of movement crossed my field of vision. Before I could prepare for the onslaught, I was slammed into the brick wall. My back hit it hard, forcing air out of my lungs. The shock of the attack took the fight out of me. I dropped both the picture and the glowstick. Luca leaned his body against mine, cupping my throat. A similar pose of me and Kieran in the picture. Except in that pose, we were both lusting for each other. Something that this insane motherfucker in front of me couldn’t duplicate.
Luca was the same height as Kieran. His body more fluid, leaner than Kieran’s, but just as strong. His thumb moved back and forth across my pulse making me very aware of my own mortality. He had his other hand beside my head, pinning me in place. I was so shocked, I couldn’t move. His whiskey-colored eyes so fucking filled with curiosity. And he did the head cock thing again. I’m sure he didn’t even realize he looked so fucking childish when he did it. A kid trying to figure out how to put the puzzle pieces back together.
Those eyes lowered to my lips and my cock twitched. Motherfucker. My heart slammed against my ribcage. I’m sure he felt it through the fabric of the hoodie. My pulse erratic against his thumb. It wasn’t desire. It was fear. But fear of what? Luca’s touch?
Liking it?
Then he leaned in. I turned away just as his lips grazed mine forcing his mouth on my cheek. I tried to push him off me, but the guy was a solid wall. “What the fuck?”
He had his leg between mine, his hip against my cock, and all I felt was fear. Had the fucker lost his mind?
“You kissed him here, yet you were angry.” The glow stick made him look as if he were ethereal. Not of this world. “Do you not feel the same now?”
“No,” I bucked my hips to get him off me, but he didn’t move. “You’re not him.”
“Him who?” He squeezed my throat, cutting off my airway. So close that I could smell the oil of his paint, cinnamon, and rain. “Who would you like to kiss, Tomás?”
He already knew. He had the pictures. “Kieran.”
“Why Kieran?”
I didn’t think he was pulling my leg. He sounded so damn curious. Like a little kid asking how an engine worked. And I found I wanted to tell him the truth. So I did. “Because I love him.”
“How do you know that? Is it how he makes you feel?” He leaned closer, rubbing against me.
I hissed at the contact and regretted going commando. “No,” I ground out. “It’s not just that.”
“Then what?” he asked. “Is it his pretty eyes, the way he kisses you, the way he smells, the way he kills? What is it about him that makes you love him?”
“It’s everything. I want to be what he needs. I want him to be happy, safe. I want to be home for him.” Fuck, I sounded like an idiot. It seemed to have some effect on the guy. His grip on me loosened. “He makes me want to be a better person for him. It hurts everywhere when I can’t be with him. When I think he doesn’t love me the same way, it hurts, deep inside me.” I let that sink in for a heartbeat. “Luca,” I said. “What’s this about? Maybe I can help you.” Because the guy looked like he needed help.
The darker core of his eyes blew wide as if he’d fallen into a different headspace. His eyes shifted away from me as if ashamed. His head slightly cocked in a tick as if he were listening to something I couldn’t catch. The hand on my throat dropped to his side and he took a step away. His head still cocked, listening to something on the breeze.
Then he bolted. Soundless movement, until he was swallowed by the approaching dawn. Chasing shadows.
I let out a relieved breath as I tapped the back of my head against the wall. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” I was so fucking stupid. I shut my eyes, feeling on the edge of tears, fucking tired of all this emotional bullshit. I’d been nothing but a vessel for pain since Amir. No, even before that. Since Maddox dropped my ass here. Fuck, come to think of it, I’d been craving the love from the people who could never love me back. Mom loved her drugs more, Daniel loved pussy more, Dad loved Nick more. Kieran loved power more.
Fuck!
I hit my head again. The sting of pain taking me out of the emotional spiral I knew I’d fall into if I didn’t take back some sort of control. It made me realize that I needed Kieran. He gave me control. Was that why I loved him? Was everything I told Luca bullshit? I loved him because he gave me what I needed, not the other way around? Because Kieran didn’t need shit from me. He hadn’t even said he loved me and why did that fucking hurt all over?
I pressed my palms against my closed lids and grunted.
Get a fucking grip. I had to push all that shit back or I’d fucking do something I’d regret. Like follow the motherfucker who just made all my insides unravel.
I picked up the discarded picture and shoved it into my pocket. I should’ve gone back to the house. I should’ve. But Luca knew something. He was playing some damn game I didn’t know the rules for, and I couldn’t just ignore it. Why did he have the picture? What did he plan to do with it, with me? And the thought of the collar he’d left in my bedroom only added to my questions. So I ran into the woods, trying to catch up to him and when I reached the first glowstick on the ground, I knew the fucker had called me out like a bitch in heat. He knew I’d follow him. And that pissed me off even more. I hated being predictable. I slipped into the thicker part of the woods, behind the quad, the staff homes, into a section of the property I’d never been in before. Focused on the narrow path he led me through, I didn’t see the sudden absence of ground until I was upon it. I stumbled, biting my tongue, pinwheeling my arms, my heart in my throat. Luca fisted my hood behind me and yanked me back. I tripped over myself and fell hard on my ass, reminding me of what Kieran and I had just done a few hours ago.
“Ouch,” I said and leaned over to rub my butt cheek.
Luca stood over me, a twisted smirk on his face. The sun bathed him in a radiant glow. He belonged in shadows, in the dark. The light in his eyes darkened. The touch of sun against his hair revealed the lighter blond strands between the hastily applied black oil paint. Just black and white. As if he’d meant to be a shadow. Yet, there was something softer in his eyes. Shades of moments that revealed a child’s curiosity, wonderment, awe. Then it’d be replaced by a glaze of nothingness. As if he warred with the two sides of himself. I just didn’t know which side was the hunter and which the explorer. I didn’t know which side of him I should fear. But he had saved me from falling over a cliff. So, there was that.
“Thanks for saving my life,” I said. My voice still oddly husky.
He didn’t say anything, but the emotion in those eyes made my chest hurt. I looked away, taking in the view. Through thick trees stood a spire barely visible in the distance. “What’s that?” I asked.
His sharp gaze turned to where I pointed. “Death,” he answered, his voice flat. Dulled of life.
“Is that where the funeral games are going to be held?”
Luca narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”
“Is that why you led me here?”
“Yes.” He crouched down next to me. His clothes perfectly fitted in his frame, moved with him, stretched with every movement. They weren’t hand-me-downs for sure. “Why did you follow?”
“I just … I don’t want you to hurt Kieran with those pictures. No one knows about us.”
“Secret.”
“Yeah. I’m his secret.” I left out dirty secret. “Who are you?”
He pointed at himself. “Luca Mancini.”
“No, that’s just a name. Who are you ?” My dad used to say that names had to be earned. I’d just been Oma until I earned my name. We didn’t choose our name at birth. The reason why some of my brothers carried monikers. Some of the best assassins, mobsters, superheroes carried monikers. A different name to identify them. Who was Luca Mancini wearing the face paint?
“I am La Santa Muerte,” he said and pointed at my chest where I had my tattoo of la Santa Muerte. “Death. I am half of a whole. Empty inside. Crying blood no one sees.”
“Like a martyr?”
He chuckled, gave me a look that called me crazy and when he realized I wasn’t joking with my question, he started to laugh. A creepy laugh that belonged to a child. For a moment he looked like a child. The hard lines on his face disappeared, his eyes were beautiful and full of mirth. I preferred the laughing Luca than the one with no affect. He stopped laughing and licked his lips, cleaning some of the paint there. Then he sat gingerly at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over. I scooted a little bit closer, but nowhere near the edge. I couldn’t even look over it.
“You’re afraid.”
“Of heights, yeah.”
“Why?”
“There’s no coming back from falling.”
He considered my answer. “Do you like it?”
“Like what?”
“Being afraid.”
“No.”
“You’re not afraid of Kieran?”
“No.”
“Are you afraid of me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You seem confused.”
That smile appeared on his face again. The bursting orange light of the sun made the shadows on his face look deeper, made him look haunted. “You confuse me.”
“Why do I confuse you?”
Luca’s eyes followed every inch of my face. Slowly. I felt as if he were dissecting me with his eyes. The child version of him gone. In its place remained the hunter. “He says you deserve it.”
“Who?”
He cocked his head. A tell that he was trying to figure me out. “Alessandro said you are a loose end and for that you must die.”
I couldn’t move. Afraid if I got to my feet, he’d push me over the cliff. Afraid if I ran, he’d hunt me down. My heart sped too fast in my chest. “I don’t know anyone named Alessandro.” The truth within the lie.
I watched as he slowly climbed to his feet. Not a care that he stood so close to the edge of the cliff. I could kick him over, end him, save myself from whatever fucked up reason he had for ending me. But I did nothing. I wasn’t a killer.
He crouched next to me, close enough for me to see the crack in the paint. The pink of his lips. The swirls in his eyes. He ran two fingers down the center of his forehead, his nose, his chin, then ran those same fingers down the center of my face. Once he was done, his eyes trailed what I’m sure was the paint left behind. “Enzo,” he said. “Alessandro Mancini is Enzo.”
A siren blasted in the distance. Luca acted as if he didn’t hear it. Didn’t move away from me. Mancini. Enzo was related to Luca in some way. And I was the loose end he’d been sent to kill. “Are you going to kill me?”
“I haven’t decided. But it will happen soon. He’s coming.”
Enzo was coming here. “I don’t understand. Why, how, what am I missing?”
“Everything.” He cupped my cheek, and I couldn’t pull away despite every part of me repulsed by myself. I should’ve fought him. Sent him to Hell. Did something. But the mention of Enzo changed everything. Luca rubbed the paint on my face. “Don’t let him see. Don’t let him know.”
I wasn’t sure who he was talking about. Enzo? Kieran? Everyone? I said nothing, fixated on the fact that Enzo was coming here. It could only mean that I hadn’t been chosen by him at random. He knew I was here. He sent Luca for me.
“Alessandro Mancini,” I whispered.
Luca got to his feet and walked away. I didn’t bother to look where he disappeared. It didn’t matter. I knew he’d still be on the property. I knew he was an heir and could kill me whenever he chose.
And now I had Enzo’s real name. And he was coming.
As I looked over the sharp cliff something else spurred my thoughts. All those years I had never questioned how Enzo knew my mother. Out of all the junkies in the world, why had he chosen her, me to save. I wasn’t special. I was nothing. Nobody. Me being here. Him having access to this place. It wasn’t a coincidence. There was something I was missing. An important piece to the puzzle.
Who the fuck was Alessandro Mancini?