4. Camilla
CHAPTER FOUR
CAMILLA
T heir warmth is almost impossible to drag myself away from, but I can’t just lay here.
Not when Kovu’s dead.
Not when his killer is sitting in the basement.
Not when we’re on the cusp of a war none of us ever asked for.
I expect at least one of them to wake up as I slip out from between them, but not even Kaos moves as I pry my legs from his vise-like grip and shimmy down the mattress beside him.
With one final look, I quietly move from the room, heading for the stairs that lead back to the level my bedroom is on. As much as I would like to remain in just Kovu’s shirt, with only his scent engulfing me, I can’t do what I need to do without at least some pants.
My bedroom seems even more empty than usual, and I realize it’s because I rarely spend time in here without Kovu. From the moment I woke up in this bed, he was like a security blanket I didn’t know I needed. A security blanket with a penance for knives and blood, but a security blanket nonetheless.
Emotion bubbles in my chest, but I force it down as I move through the motions of tugging on a pair of black jeans and tucking the front of Kovu’s shirt into the waistband. I should probably put a bra on too, but I can’t bring myself to take off his clothes, even for a moment.
I tie my hair back in a messy knot before slipping on a pair of black Converse, avoiding the mirror at all costs.
I don’t need to know how terrible I look right now, but at least Bishop wiped my makeup away with a warm cloth before I fell asleep.
With a deep breath, I head down into the garage and then down the stairs that lead to the basement.
They may have thought I was asleep while they were talking, but I was hyperaware of every sound, and as soon as they started talking, I was wide awake.
When I reach the bottom step, I’m surprised to find Elias sitting by the door to the room the Legion uses for interrogating people.
Surprise fills his dark eyes the moment they land on me. “Camilla, what are you doing down here?”
“I want to talk to him.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Elias, with all due respect, I don’t care what you think is a good idea right now.” I cringe internally at how rude I sound, but if I’ve ever needed to be the cold Mafia queen I was brought up to be, it’s right now.
“Don’t you think one of the guys will want to be here for this?”
I shrug. “They’re getting some rest, and I can’t sit around any longer.”
He watches me for a moment, his eyes flicking down to where his phone is resting on his knee. He’s no doubt considering letting Crew know I’m down here, but he seems to decide against it.
“Do you want any help?”
“No. I’ve got this.” I give him a halfhearted smile, but my lips barely twitch. It’s not like I have a whole lot to be happy about right now, and I hope he understands that and doesn’t tell Leighton what a bitch I’ve been to him.
When all this is done and dusted, I’d like to still have a friend. If I survive it at all, that is.
I pause at the door, taking a second to slip my mask into place. Whoever is on the other side of the door isn’t going to see a woman who just lost the man she loves. They’re going to meet the queen who will stop at nothing to keep her kingdom safe.
I push it open and slip inside before closing the door behind me. I turn to lean against it with my arms crossed over my chest as I take in the room.
A man hangs from the purpose-built bars above his head, his body stretched so tight his bare toes barely graze the cold concrete beneath us.
His almost naked body shivers, and there’s a tinge of satisfaction that he’s uncomfortable. That’s exactly how I want him. That’s how he deserves to feel.
Dark eyes lock with mine, but I don’t say anything. I hold his gaze with a raised brow, waiting for the moment the false sense of safety fills him. Every man I’ve ever tortured has had the same look when I’ve walked into the room.
Oh, she’s a young woman, there’s no way she’ll hurt me.
Maybe I can reason with her.
If I can just get out of these binds, I can make her pay for thinking she can play with the big boys.
I don’t need to be able to read their minds to know exactly what they’re thinking, because they’re predictable as hell, and half the time they say the first stupid thing that comes to their minds.
The look flicks across his face, and a smirk tugs at his lips.
Asshole.
“Are the adults busy?” he gripes.
I don’t bother responding as I push off the door and move toward the table of objects the guys use to torture their victims. It’s a good spread, but there are a few things missing that I’d like to add if I’m going to be doing my own work here too.
A hacksaw.
A few more scalpels.
A smaller blowtorch. Those ones chefs use for crème br?lée are the perfect size to make even the strongest of men scream.
The chains rattle as he tries to turn to see what I’m doing, but my body is likely in the way, blocking his view of the instruments I’m choosing between.
I settle on a small hunting knife to begin with, something that will hurt but won’t make him bleed too much before I can get what I need from him.
I wonder if Rogers could patch him up to stop him from dying on me, I ponder. Something to consider, for sure.
His eyes fall on the knife in my hand as soon as I turn around, and his cocky smile grows. God, if I didn’t already hate this guy for killing the man I loved, I’d hate him for how much he’s underestimating me.
“What are you going to do with that, sweetheart?”
I scoff as I move toward him. “I thought I might start with cutting off a few of your toes and forcing you to stand on the bleeding stumps, then we might get to some more fun stuff.”
There’s a flash of surprise on his face a moment before he laughs. “Has your time with the big boys made you think you can stomach something like that?”
I sigh, twirling the knife between my fingers. “You know, every man that finds himself hanging like this in front of me asks the same kind of question. It seems because I don’t have an appendage swinging between my legs, I couldn’t possibly be just as bloodthirsty as a man could be,” I muse. “Do you know where those men are now?”
He shakes his head.
“Dead. Most of them are missing the appendage that makes them think they have the upper hand when I walk into a room.”
For the first time since I opened the door, there’s a flash of fear in his eyes, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it appeared.
“Now, I’m not going to give you the speech about how we can do this the easy way or the hard way, because you’re already not taking me seriously, but I am going to ask you some questions, and I expect answers. For every answer you withhold, I’ll cut off a finger, a toe, and if you’re really lucky, maybe your dick.”
His eyes widen, and a sick sense of satisfaction washes over me just like it does every time I stand in front of a man like this and tell them all the ways I’m going to hurt them.
“Who hired you to kill Kovu?” I ask. I considered starting with an easier question, buttering him up a little, and showing him how much it’s going to hurt for him if he doesn’t do as I say, but why beat around the bush? He and I both know that’s why he’s here, so we might as well jump straight from the pot to the fire and get this party started.