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“Yeah, she has that effect on people.”

“So can you help?”

“Do ogres like to floss with sheep bones?”

“Thanks, man. Your place in a few hours good?”

“See you then.”

Carlos cut off the call and merged into traffic. He headed east toward the Maltese offices. He might still be on forced vacation, but he needed a few items from the company’s armory. Lucky for him, he’d set up the security system so that breaking in wasn’t going to be any trouble.

Chapter Fourteen

“Every time we choose what we are going to wear, we make a statement about who we are in the world.”

—Bruce Friedrich

Saturday arrived warm and blustery. The wind made the canvas walls of Mika’s tent in Central Square Park billow and wave. Danger waited outside, but she was ready for it.

She slipped on the above-the-knee-length cotton underdress, soft and snowy white with strands of silver thread that formed the pattern of the Dyrnwyn sword—an exact replica in size and placement of the tattoo on her back. Next came the silver breastplate custom-made to fit her every curve. It was made of latex, but she’d designed the pattern on top to look like individual pieces of steel weaved together to form an impenetrable covering. As soon as she secured it by lacing up the front-tying corset, the transformation into the Silver Queen had begun.

She secured the breastplate flap enriched with the purple crest for the Silver Queen and slipped on her armored skirt. Next came the greaves shin guards with the inner pocket for her cell phone and gauntlets that covered her wrists, both made from white pleather. The final additions were the shoulder-length platinum wig and silver glitter that covered her eyebrows. By the time she covered her lips in purple frosted lipstick, the transformation was complete. Mika was gone and the Silver Queen had taken her place. No one stood a chance against her—not even the man who thought of her as just another loose end.

It had been a week and the dealer hadn’t made a single move toward her, but she knew Carlos was right. He wasn’t gone forever. If she couldn’t draw him out, he’d lurk in the shadows until the perfect time to strike. She was done waiting around.

She picked up the two-and-a-half-foot-long curved Japanese tachi sword. It had been in the Ito family for generations, and she’d learned how to wield it with deadly accuracy under her dad’s tutelage. After her sister died, her dad had given it to her before he left for Japan. That’s when she’d known he was never coming back. She sheathed the tachi sword and picked up her boffer, the foam sword with a fiberglass core she used to slay her enemies in LARP battles.

Someone tapped against her sealed tent door. “My queen, your court is gathered. Are you ready?”

She smoothed her clammy palms down the smooth latex surface of her armored skirt, then turned and unfastened the tent’s door. It fell open, revealing thirty people, all dressed in varying shades of white, purple, and silver. Most had painted their faces in either a dark aubergine or a bright silver. A few had pointed ear extensions or white wigs to accessorize their pale silver armor. None had the vestments she’d made from the cocaine-tainted material. Anyone who still had one had surrendered it to the police.

Each member of her court looked up at her as she emerged from the tent. She pressed her fist to her latex-covered belly and inhaled as deep a breath as her corset would allow. Nervous energy buzzed through her body, jolting her to a state of almost hyperawareness. They were her family, maybe not by blood, but that didn’t matter. They needed her, and it was time she fulfilled that duty.

“Thank you all for coming out for Battle Ultimate,” she said.

They responded with hearty huzzahs, but the sound died out fast. She searched the crowd and saw the worried eyes, the anxious hand-wringing, and the lowered gazes. Misery ran like a poisonous undercurrent through her court, pinching her heart. After all they’d been through with the attacks, they needed a check in the win column.

“There is a lot on the line today,” she continued. “The winner takes home the Dyrnwyn sword and rules the four kingdoms for the next year. We don’t call it the Ultimate for nothing. Each of the other kingdoms will fight tooth and nail for the Dyrnwyn sword, but we have an advantage over them.”

The fidgeting stopped as agitated fingers released twisted material.

“We have faced adversity…and we did it together, as a family. I would not wish the past few weeks on even the Cerulean Monk tribe, but I am so proud that we have come through on the other side. As you all know from the reports in the newspaper, Roger is dead. The tainted material is gone.”

But not before several people had been hurt. Carlos had been right, she had led the wolf right to the hen house and invited him inside. “I’m so sorry I got everyone into this mess when I took home the wrong bolt of material. I hope you can forgive me.”

The bruises would heal and the memory would fade, but none of them would be the same. If she didn’t make it through today, she wanted them t

o know she was sorry. She held up her hand to quiet the murmurs. “But today is not about the past. It’s about claiming our destiny. It’s about our future. Tonight we take home the Dyrnwyn sword. Will you follow me into battle?”

Her court’s roar of affirmation was immediate and heartfelt. It buttressed her flagging spirits and gave her the strength she needed to do what she had to next. In the back of the crowd sentinels, Will and Alex stood in black in a sea of white, silver, and purple. She’d agreed to always stay in their sights. It was a promise she was about to break. If the dealer was out there, he’d see her as a nonthreatening loose end, easily taken care of, as long as she was on her own. But if Alex and Will flanked her, she’d never be able to get close enough to take him out. He’d spot her guards and take off. That couldn’t happen. This ended today.

While her court chattered as they waited for the Heralds Trumpet to sound the start of the Battle Ultimate, she slipped back inside her tent. Right before the door flap swung shut, she spotted a silver knight watching her. He stood silent and apart from the rest of her court. Something about the way he stood off to the side like a loner and the stubborn tilt to his chin made her heartbeat quicken with awareness, and she took a half step forward before she caught herself and forced her feet to still. It wasn’t Carlos. He’d made it plain he’d never go back to being one of the weirdoes in their funny costumes. It was just one last ember of hope her heartbreak hadn’t been able to extinguish—yet. The fact was Carlos was gone, just like she’d demanded. It was for the best; she had other demons to fight than heartbreak.

It was a grim reminder that whatever happened next, she was on her own. No one could help. Not even the man she loved.

Carlos faded back to the edge of the crowd. For a second, right before she’d disappeared into her tent, Mika had looked his way, and he would have sworn she’d known it was him. It was a ridiculous idea. He wore forty pounds of armor, had covered his face in thick silver paint, and a white wig hid his brown hair. Still, he couldn’t shake the sensation that jolted his system when she looked his way. It had sizzled its way down to his toes and singed the ground beneath his boots.

He scanned the crowd, recognizing most of the costumes if not the people inside them. Of course, he didn’t need to see beyond the makeup. That’s what the software was for. After leaving Maltese Security’s armory yesterday, he’d mounted surveillance cameras throughout the battlefield. In addition to the criminal arrest database search for the man with the scar and the limp he had already been running, he’d set up a facial recognition program to scan the crowd. It digitally erased any makeup the player was wearing to reveal the person underneath. That face was compared with the driver’s license photos of the players who were registered for the Battle Ultimate. Anyone scanned who wasn’t registered for the event set off an alert that was sent to Carlos’s smart watch. And the system was working. It had already sent alerts for himself and Mika’s Maltese bodyguards, Will and Alex.

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