All Hallows Eve, Vol. 3

Prologue

Prologue

The screams pierced the air, ricocheting around Ines Martel. She closed her eyes, letting the pain of those screams seep into her flesh and heat her blood. It had seemed like years of betrayal and survival had finally come to a head now that she had Michael Perez in her grasp and bleeding out on his basement floor.

Michael Perez was the head of the Perez organization—one that once stood with her own father, Luis Martel. They had been two of the four power houses that had years of peace between them, until Michael’s greed tore that apart and set the world she knew into a blaze of fire that burned so furious there had been nothing but ash and broken promises left.

The screams dulled down to a small whimper, and Ines looked at Michael with disgust. His left eye was swollen shut, his lips were chapped, his chest had over a hundred cuts, and he was missing his left index finger and a few toenails. She once looked at him like a father figure—a powerful man like her own father—but now he was reduced to nothing more than skin and broken bones, lying in his own piss and shit.

“Just fucking kill me already,” he spat, in between catching his breath and groaning.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Ines circled the table he’d been chained to. Her boots falling heavy against the tarp on the floor.

“You and your Skeleton Men.” He struggled to speak. His words coming in quick burst. He was in so much pain, and she wanted to inflict more.

“An apt name for—” His words broke off into a groan when she poked at the flesh of where his toenail used to be.

Four days of torture and he hadn’t answered any of her questions. She would never admit to how impressed she was by his resolve, especially since she already had the answers to her questions. This need to break him came from her need to see him hurt the way he had hurt her father and brother, and the heads of the rest of the families.

“What was that?” she murmured, moving to stand next to Matteo, her second-in-command and the one who would string up Michael’s body once they were done with him.

She wanted to burn his flesh and erase his name from existence, but she couldn’t let emotions cloud what she was doing. When they moved on, his body would be an omen—a warning to those who thought about taking what belonged to her and her men.

“I said,” Michael wheezed out, “it was an apt name…considering this is all that’s left…nothing but monsters in pretty clothing…at least your father had a code…he never would have…hunted me and mine down…like this.”

“And that’s why he’s dead.” Ines wanted to lash out, but the feel of Matteo’s hand against her hip steadied her. “His honor got him killed. He was a king amongst peasants and the peasants revolted against him, leaving him broken and burning for the world to see.”

She walked over to the head of the table, brushing past Justice, her executioner. He was the one who took the Skeleton Men name to heart. Even now his face was painted white with his eyes and cheeks painted black. His hands were tattooed to resemble skeleton hands, and she knew he wanted to tattoo the rest of his arms in a similar manner. On his back, the reaper was tattooed into his skin—a reminder to those who saw him without a shirt on who he was and what he was capable of.

Ines looked into Justice’s eyes, needing to check in and see how close to his limit he was. He may have made death his occupation and even enjoyed killing a time or two, but he was a lot like his father. There needed to be a balance between the lives he took and the good he put out into the world. When those scales fell out of balance, it took more than just Ines’ body to bring him back, and she worried about him. He had a gentle soul she didn’t want to see broken. He was the best parts of the world into which they were born—the world they lived and bled in.

Justice’s gaze softened as he leaned forward, letting his head rest against hers. His lips found hers next—the kiss, chaste in nature, still sent an inferno into her blood. All his need and want for her channeled into the barest hint of the skin-to-skin contact. She wanted to strip him right here, in the middle of all this chaos and let him sink deep inside of her—easing both their aches.

She heard Michael scoff, and she dialed back her need to punch him in the jaw. The little shit hadn’t understood or accepted the lifestyle Ines wanted and lived. He couldn’t understand how more than one person could truly love each other, though given the amount of times he stepped out on his wife, she could understand his ignorance. At least until she remembered that ignorance had been a catalyst for what brought them here today with nothing but pain and destruction behind them.

“Reina,” Justice’s deep voice vibrated against her, “no te preocupes, estoy bien.” He lifted his head, and his eyes darkened. “But I won’t be if you don’t keep your thoughts to yourself.” She was gifted with a teasing smirk that made her reach up and kiss him again. His blood-soaked hand gripped her hips, steading her.

“Comportarte,” he rumbled before his gaze slide past her shoulder, looking at Matteo. “Let’s finish this and we can celebrate later.” He leaned in again. “I want to see these lips around his cock later while I bury my face in your pussy. It’ll be the perfect treat after this long day.”

Ines nodded, her own smile teasing her lips. The promise of what waited for her after she was done with Michael almost made her want to put him out of his misery quickly. But that was too good a death for him. She wanted him to understand what was coming—that no matter what he did and caused, the precious doll he whisked away in the night all those years ago was no longer safe, maybe she never was.

“You killed my father,” she turned, facing off with the man she once loved. His wife had been the mother she’d lost at an early age and his daughter had been her best friend once and something more as they got older.

“You took my brother from me and helped enemies you swore to stand against destroy what was left of my father’s organization and name. I’d say you and those who stood with you got off easy.”

She held out her hand, waiting for Justice to hand her the butcher knife. She wanted to be the one to slit his throat.

“You’ll never find her.” Michael’s eyes widened when she brought the knife up to his face. “She’s been tucked away in a place no one dare look. So cut my throat because I won’t tell you.”

Ines chuckled. He was so sure his little doll would live in this world untouched by theirs. He didn’t understand that, thanks to his hand in killing her father, it had given her the purpose and resources to extract the perfect revenge.

Namely, finding his daughter and making her beg.

“We know where she is already, Michael. Your lovely wife told us where she was. Though we figured it out before she confirmed it for us.” The surprise in his eyes almost made her own pain worth it.

“See what happens when you abuse a woman who stood by you and watched you rip her only child away? She was ready to trade in all those secrets she knew if it meant you no longer had access to her, and now she’s been set free.” Ines brought the knife up to his throat, feeling Matteo and Justice at her back—their presence a steady hand over her thunderous heartbeat. They were all that was left of the bloodshed Michael started.

“And now I shall set you free, even if you don’t deserve the peace that comes from death.”

“She won’t come to you.” Michael rushed out. “She will resent you and fight you tooth and nail. I made sure of it.” His words came out rushed. A panicked man desperate to get the last word in and hope that everything he set in motion was not for naught.

Ines slit his throat, feeling a rush from the sight of his blood seeping out of his body. She pulled up her sleeve and flashed Michael the tattoo she had inked on her skin at thirteen. She saw the recognition in his eyes and her smile widened.

Soon he’d be nothing but a memory, and his beautiful daughter, Yesina Valdez, would pay for her father’s sins, preferably on her knees.