Den of Mercenaries

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Den of Mercenaries Page 69

by London Miller


  “I’ve been waiting ages, Luna,” Uilleam said as he rolled over onto his back, making her eyes widen as she got an unobstructed view of everything he hid beneath expensive suits.

  Focusing her attention on the assortment of silk pillows on the other side of the room, she kept it there. “In case you didn’t realize, it’s pouring down outside. You’re lucky I got here when I did.”

  Uilleam laughed. “Fair enough. Where—is there a reason you’re refusing to look at me?” he asked, seeming to only realize now that she wasn’t facing him.

  “Are you kidding?” Luna asked, feeling the flush in her cheeks as she visualized the rippling contours of his abdomen. “You’re naked.”

  He scoffed, as though her reasoning was absurd. “I once held a meeting between two warring families on a private beach on the coast of France. Neither was willing to work with the other because they were both notorious for killing their enemies during sit-downs.”

  Luna’s mouth twitched. “So you decided to have it at a nude beach?”

  She could hear him moving around, the rustle of clothing before he was suddenly at her side wearing only a pair of slim-fitting pants.

  “It was the only way I could guarantee that each party respected the arrangement I had set up.” His smile was rueful as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Unless, of course, they decided to get a little creative.”

  “Clever,” she had to admit.

  Uilleam touched her hand, lifting it to get a better look at the ring that now adorned her finger. Even in the low light of the room, the diamond sparkled.

  “A shame I wasn’t invited to the wedding,” he said looking from the ring to her. “I’m sure you looked beautiful.”

  Luna smiled at the compliment. If there was something to be said about Uilleam, he had always been kind to her—blunt sometimes to the point of rudeness, but always kind.

  “It was a surprise to me too,” Luna found herself saying. “There wasn’t really any time to invite anyone.”

  “Trust me. This may have been a surprise for you, but my brother is a planner—this would have been in the works for months. It really is a shame,” he said softly, letting her hand drop.

  Luna lost her smile. “That we got married?”

  Uilleam looked at her, really looked at her which made her a little nervous as to what his answer would be. “No, a shame that you have a job to do.”

  Right. Of course. That was why she was here. “What is the job, exactly?”

  “I’ll fill you in on all the details later, or Skorpion can.” He glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. “He should have been here by now.”

  “He’s in town?”

  She hadn’t known Uilleam had called on Skorpion too, not that he would have told her otherwise—The Kingmaker’s moves were known only to him—but Skorpion would have.

  Of everyone at the Den, Skorpion was the one she was closest to—like the older brother she had never had.

  Though, to be fair, most of the mercenaries that called the Den home were like brothers, though she didn’t see them nearly as much.

  “I can’t imagine we would both fit on that bike of yours,” he said with a smirk, going over to retrieve his shirt and shrugged it on. “Tell me, how on earth did you convince my brother to allow you to drive that thing? I can’t imagine he hadn’t tried to talk you out of it.”

  Kit had, in fact—and he may have gotten his way had she not shown him how thankful she could be if he gave her what she wanted.

  The next morning, the white Ducati had been waiting for her in the driveway.

  Leaving his inquiry unanswered, Luna asked, “What are you doing back so early anyway? I thought you were in Shanghai this week?”

  A look of annoyance crossed his features. “I see my uncle has yet to curb his habit of telling you my business.”

  “He doesn’t tell me everything,” she reassured, “only what may concern your brother so I know what to expect.”

  Because when the two of them fought, it could get ugly, especially if it had anything to do with their businesses overlapping.

  Luna still didn’t understand the intricate details and boundaries that allowed the pair of them to work together—or separately, as it were—but she did understand that there were precautions in place to ensure that neither stepped on the other’s toes.

  Though sometimes it felt like that was all they ever did.

  “Ladies.”

  Luna turned at the slow drawl coming from the man that had to duck his way into the room, a slow grin curling his lips as he removed his hat.

  He hardly glanced in Uilleam’s direction, though he did give a wink to Luna, before he was giving the two women on the floor his full undivided attention, and infamous charm.

  Skorpion was a big man, over six feet tall with the body mass of a professional football player. It also didn’t help that he looked rather terrifying, but underneath the gruff exterior was a teddy bear that cared more about surfing than anything else.

  When he wasn’t under contract, he could usually be found hunting the best waves—the man spent nearly as much time surfing as he did working—and staying off the grid.

  “Now that everyone is here,” Uilleam said as he grabbed his suit jacket off the back of a chair. “Let’s discuss.”

  Uilleam left the room first, Luna following, and Skorpion after, though he had to jog to catch up after spending a moment longer with the women in the room.

  “It’s been long in the making,” Uilleam continued, starting up the flight of stairs. “But it’s finally time.”

  “Time for what?”

  “Your debt to come due,” he answered, stopping at the top to glance down at her. “This will be … difficult for you, but once this is done, you’ll finally be free of that time in your life.”

  “I thought I was already free of that time?”

  The smile he offered her wasn’t his trademark grin, nor did she see his usual humor. “Not quite.”

  “Just strange,” Skorpion muttered from behind her, making her smile despite herself.

  Uilleam shook his head. “We can discuss it more on the flight.”

  The flight? “What flight?” Luna asked.

  “To California,” Uilleam elaborated once they finally cleared the stairs.

  “Kit’s there actually,” she said. Coming back from Bora Bora, while she had taken a car back to his penthouse apartment in the city, he had taken another jet out of the state.

  “I’m sure he is,” Uilleam mumbled as he laid a hand on the door and pushed it open, stepping out into the rain.

  A familiar black muscle car was parked just about a block down, but it wasn’t there that Luna’s gaze was drawn.

  It was to the motorcycle and its rider idling at the stoplight.

  Even through the rain, she could see that the light was still yellow, but the rider stayed there—and though he seemed to be facing straight ahead, Luna couldn’t shake the notion that they were being watched.

  He was all a blur for a moment before she wiped at the water dripping from her eyelashes and got a decent look at him. It was a man, that much she could see even at her distance from his build and the way he straddled his bike.

  He also wore all black, from his boots up to the helmet that covered his entire head, and the gloved hands he had wrapped around the handlebars.

  Just sitting there …

  As though he were waiting …

  Luna realized almost a moment too late as Uilleam cleared the door and the moment he did, the rider pulled a gun, silencer firmly attached to the end of it.

  “Uilleam!”

  Not once in the years she had known his name had she ever used it when it wasn’t only the pair of them. That, coupled with the way she shouted it had the man in question jolting to a stop, his gaze snapping to where she was looking.

  But it was too late.

  The rider squeezed off rounds in rapid succession, glass exploding as one of the rounds went through the car
separating him from his target—but even that one didn’t miss.

  Someone screamed, Skorpion shouted a command for her to stay where she was, and the last thing she heard before the blood rushing in her ears drowned everything out was Uilleam’s grunts as multiple bullets plugged their way into his body.

  Luna didn’t pause to think about what she was doing, merely shot out the door with her gun raised, squeezing the trigger before she even had a clear shot. She might not have hit the driver, but she did get his attention.

  And it was enough to send him speeding off, his tires burning rubber as he disappeared nearly as quickly as he came.

  Once she could no longer see him, her concentration broke, bringing her back to the present where Uilleam was still on the ground.

  But before she could get to him, Skorpion snatched her back with one hand, and despite her persistence, there was no resisting someone with his strength.

  “Stay there,” he ordered. “Use your phone and dial star-seven-six-four and give them this address.”

  Skorpion dashed out, dragging Uilleam up with ridiculous ease.

  With shaking hands, Luna did as he asked, though she didn’t understand who, exactly, she was calling. She thought he might have misspoken had it not been for the man that answered on the second ring.

  She gave their address, making sure to mention that she was calling about The Kingmaker before the person on the other line hung up the phone.

  Skorpion stripped out of his shirt, tearing it to shreds as he packed it along Uilleam’s front. There was blood everywhere, so much blood, that Luna couldn’t see anything else.

  She couldn’t understand how someone who had lost so much blood could still be awake.

  “Calavera, hey! Get over here.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to do just that before he was dragging her across the floor, guiding her hands down onto the bloody bundles of cloth that were quickly getting soaked through.

  “Keep pressure on these,” he said with fierce eyes, making sure she understood.

  “Scar, he’s—”

  It was rare that she used her nickname for Skorpion—a play on the first half his moniker—but she was terrified, more so than she had ever been in her life, and she desperately needed him to tell her that Uilleam would be all right.

  That he would walk away from this as he had so many other run-ins with his enemies.

  The Kingmaker was infallible—he was without equal.

  But as she stared down at terrified eyes, she couldn’t help but think even gods bled.

  Two hours earlier …

  Sacramento, California

  All good things came to an end …

  It had taken Kit until now to realize how true those words were, but with Uilleam calling Luna in for a job, he finally decided to stop ignoring the work he needed to get done.

  That didn't mean he was pleased.

  He was a bit annoyed with his brother for calling her in, but he knew better than to complain. Uilleam would then make it his personal mission to ensure she was always on an assignment if only to annoy him.

  Annoyed though he was, he couldn’t complain too much. It had been because of Uilleam that he had found a wife. Despite the time it consumed, it was this job that had ultimately brought her to him.

  “I’ve always wanted to go to Bora Bora,” Aidra said with a sigh, looking through pictures of the tropical island on her tablet as they rode through the hills of Santa Monica, on their way to a private lounge that was nestled away from the city. “I hear the water is lovely there.”

  “I’m sure Fang would gladly take you, should you ask.”

  She glared at him, though her twitching told him it wasn’t serious. “If he ever got any off time. Amazing that you can just take off in the middle of the night, but we have to be available at a moment’s notice.”

  Now, he smiled. “It pays to be the boss. But should you have a date in mind, let me know and I’ll make sure you’re free.”

  Aidra laughed softly. “Married life is agreeing with you. I should have made you do this sooner.”

  Driving up the twisting road toward the Spanish villa, Kit’s thoughts turned to Luna, as they often did.

  Remembering the smile on her face, the way her eyes lit up when he’d shown her the ring, he didn’t think anything else had ever made him as happy.

  Signaling before turning into the parking lot, Kit found a spot right in the thick of the other cars, ensuring that his wouldn’t stand out too much amongst the others.

  “Caesar Rivera,” Aidra reminded him as they exited the car and started across the lot, her demeanor shifting from playful to serious. “He wants your assistance with moving cargo—and by cargo, I mean girls.”

  This she said hesitantly, peeking up at him from the corner of her eye.

  Kit’s steps didn’t falter. “You should have told me this sooner.”

  Had she, it would have saved them a trip.

  From the moment Luna walked into his life, he had slowly—though at the time he hadn’t immediately recognized what he was doing—distanced himself from particular clients that were once on retainer, and potential clients that sought his aid when it came to trafficking women across borders.

  He hadn’t cared before, who those women were or where they came from, but once she was there with him, he could only imagine that one or any of those girls was someone’s Luna.

  He may not have been able to shut them all down, but he could avoid aligning himself with them.

  “Some of his background has only just gotten to me—sorry.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Kit said.

  She wasn’t to blame for this, but he would make sure that after this meeting, people of similar ilk wouldn’t come to him for aid in this matter.

  A man with a bald head and a tattoo on his neck glanced at them as they passed, a single nod telling Kit they were permitted to enter.

  Inside the smoky interior of the lounge, bottle girls in leotards and high heels served drinks with a smile and wink. It was a gentleman’s establishment, that was complete with a rich wooden interior, a wall full of aged wine, and a sitting area that allowed an unobstructed view of the girls that were slightly bent over at the bar, waiting for orders to be filled.

  Close to his side, he felt Aidra brush his arm, a silent cue for him to look where her gaze directed, but he had looked up Caesar Rivera before they arrived—though only enough to find a picture.

  He was seated closer to the rear of the room, his table on a raised platform that reminded Kit of a dais. He had a thick mustache, the hair nearly covering his entire upper lip, then extending down along the sides of his mouth.

  Even when he smiled, the man still looked displeased.

  Upon first glance, Kit could tell this was not an establishment that Caesar frequented, not when the lot of the room was clad in suits while he wore clothes that were clearly expensive, but not noteworthy.

  Wiping his hands, then his mouth, with a linen napkin that he plucked from his lap, Caesar tossed it on the table as he stood, his gaze landing on Kit almost immediately.

  Kit could just see the flash of gold around the man’s throat, and that coupled with the gold rings on his fingers and a large watch, he could also see that Caesar was not a man he would ever do business with.

  It went beyond his involvement with human trafficking—the man was entirely too blatant with his wealth. And over the years, Kit had learned that those that so happily showed the world how much they were worth, made the most mistakes.

  This man didn’t understand subtle.

  “We won’t be staying long,” Kit said to Aidra as he rested a hand on her back and guided her in that direction.

  Before they could get within feet of the man, one of Caesar’s security—a man that looked wide-eyed and trigger happy—stopped them.

  “Weapons,” he said in what he thought was a menacing voice, his head held high as though he meant to look down at them.

  “One w
ell-placed punch and I can break his trachea,” Aidra said in Welsh, with a hint of anticipation in her voice, her gaze locked on the idiot that probably thought she was helpless.

  “Maybe after,” Kit returned with a smirk in the man’s direction, more than happy to hand over his gun.

  It wasn’t as though he would need it—he’d faced worse odds once before.

  Aidra huffed, but didn’t hand over her gun, but she didn’t stop there. Instead, she removed nearly every weapon that she had strapped to her body. And as the man’s eyes widened in surprise, a trace of fear flooding in, she smiled and moved around him.

  “I apologize for my man there,” Caesar said once they were at his table, his attention on Aidra for the moment. “He is cautious.”

  He took her hand in his, pressing whiskered lips against the back of it before he turned to Kit with a boisterous smile, as though the pair of them were old friends.

  “Señor Phoenix—is that right? A pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard great things.”

  Kit didn’t return the sentiment. “You’ve asked for a meeting, you have ten minutes.”

  Some of Caesar’s good nature dimmed as a flash of his temper showed. Undoubtedly, he wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of such words.

  “Please,” he said with a gesture of his hand to a pair of seats. “Let’s discuss business.”

  Unbuttoning his jacket, Kit pulled out a chair for Aidra first, then himself, folding one leg across the other as he regarded the man across from him. “What exactly would you like to discuss?”

  “I understand that if I wish to expand my business internationally, you are the man I need to speak to,” he started with a wave of his hand to get one of the waitress’ attention. “My associates speak very highly of you.”

  As to be expected. Kit took his job as the Facilitator seriously.

  Though he couldn’t say who Caesar’s associates were.

  “What is it, exactly, that you need from me?”

  “I have a shipment of girls coming in from the Ukraine—a gift from the Russians should I choose to enter into a deal with them.” Caesar rested thick elbows on the table, leaning forward slightly. “He assured me that should I find a proper route, this can be an ongoing arrangement.”

 

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