It also helped that she didn’t try to touch him again when he was in the throes of one.
Iris didn’t want to be the reason he fell into the abyss of his own mind.
Before long, they were back at the brownstone, and Synek had grown unusually quiet as he let them inside and immediately started stripping out of his bloodied clothes. By the time he was heading into their shared bedroom, he was completely naked, every bit of his scarred but beautiful body on blatant display.
Without looking back, he called over his shoulder, “Calavera should be here soon.”
Shit.
She had forgotten about that. “You could always take me shopping for a dress for tonight, Synek. It probably wouldn’t kill you.” And she wouldn’t be nearly as nervous with him as she would be with the female mercenary.
“If I went,” he reminded her, “I would be trying to get you out of a dress rather than in one.”
And as it stood, she wouldn’t be able to wear any of the dresses she’d brought along with her to the brownstone. She needed something else—something more appropriate for a fundraiser in Manhattan.
Tonight, after weeks of careful strategizing and planning, they were finally making their first move on Spader.
It might have been simple if he and the others mercs of the Den had planned a rendezvous and got Spader out of the city and to the Kingmaker before anyone knew, but that wasn’t what Iris wanted.
She wanted his disgrace. She wanted to see his ruin played out for the world to see.
He had no problem obliging her because, in the end, that would make his job easier. Fewer questions would arise if a governor went into hiding due to a scandal breaking out rather than just disappearing outright.
So just like with the Wraiths, the job was simple.
Use his own position against him.
The first step in that plan was to attend the fundraiser being held in his honor in Manhattan later tonight. The guest list was exclusive, but they could get their hands on anything when they needed to.
But for what they had planned, they couldn’t afford to draw attention to themselves. And their affinity for leather would stand out in the sea of high-priced clothing worn by the governor and others.
He couldn’t think of anyone else who would know what Iris should wear than someone who had to dress the part for a living.
“Come on. You’ll like Calavera.”
The only female mercenary on his team—as well as only one of three who worked directly for the Kingmaker—Calavera was every bit as trained as the rest of them. She just did her job in a dress most days.
The Kingmaker liked to call her his spider.
“It’s not really a question of whether I’ll like her,” she said, handing him his knife back, handle out.
Ah, he understood.
She was worried Winter had told the other woman about how they’d met.
“A little kidnapping never hurt anyone,” Synek said with a wave of his hand. “Her husband sold her off when she was sixteen.” Iris cringed, staring at him as if she thought he was joking. “Sounds bad when I put it like that … Needless to say, they’ve worked through their differences.”
Her expression said she didn’t believe him. “Is she married to one of the mercenaries?”
“The Kingmaker’s brother, actually.”
“Who?”
“Right. I forget you know next to nothing about all this. Quick rundown. Me, Red, Celt, Calavera, and Skorpion make up the Den.” Plus other mercenaries, but they didn’t matter. “The four Romanian fuckers go by the Wild Bunch. You’ve met the Kingmaker. You remember the other suit who was there during that meeting at the compound?”
She nodded once.
“Nix. Handler for the Wild Bunch, the Kingmaker’s brother, and Calavera’s husband. See? Simple.”
“I don’t think I’m going to remember any of that.”
“You’ll catch on,” he answered, walking her out of the bedroom.
Besides, she’d be sticking around long enough to learn them.
“And you?” she asked, walking over to his side. “What’ll you be doing while I’m gone?”
“Meetings.”
Meetings ... as if he was going into a boardroom instead of a control room where he would be given orders by a man intent on destroying the life of a woman he cared about.
A typical Tuesday.
But this Tuesday would be a little different; not just because the Kingmaker was calling in all his mercenaries, but also because only two topics of conversation were going to be discussed.
Grimm and Belladonna.
It was going on three years now that he had been specifically tasked with finding the mercenary who’d gone missing nearly six years prior. Every time he got close to an answer or a promising location, Grimm would slip away again, and there’d be no trace he had ever been there at all.
Now, they were closer than they had ever been, thanks to the governor.
If he could manage to get Iris what she wanted and find Grimm, his job would be done.
He just had to pull it off.
“Just don’t get into anything that’s going to take you to a bad place,” she said softly, that thread of concern in her voice as comforting as it was upsetting.
She knew he had nightmares if he didn’t properly medicate himself—and his medication usually consisted of fucking and booze, though the latter had given out to more of the first.
Like last night.
Sometimes, even he couldn’t explain what woke him up in the middle of the night from a dead sleep, his heart racing in his chest, memories plaguing his thoughts. It was a shit state to be in.
He’d thought to slip out of the bedroom and leave her sleeping, but he’d barely move an inch off the bed before she was calling his name. He couldn’t deny her even when he needed to.
“Nothing too strenuous, dove. We have plans tonight.”
“Then take care of you,” she said before touching her lips to his, reminding him why he was ready to commit murder if it meant keeping her.
This feeling she gave him … he didn’t ever want to lose it.
“I’ll ring you when it’s time.”
Headlights flashed outside as she nodded. “Wish me luck.”
“You won’t need it.”
She smiled even as she shook her head. “What makes you so sure she’ll like me?”
Synek didn’t pause. “Because I do.”
Chapter 26
Calavera was far too pretty and looked nothing like the way a mercenary should, but Iris could tell in a glance that she was more than capable of handling herself.
Even leaning against the side of a gleaming white Maserati, something was carefully controlled about her relaxed stance.
“You must be Iris,” Calavera said, straightening as Iris drew closer with a bright smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Officially, I mean.”
Calavera had been there the first and only time Iris had ever stepped foot inside the Den compound, but considering the topic of conversation that day, Iris hadn’t been the focus of anyone’s attention.
Now, though, she had no choice but to be the center of attention. She had always felt a certain disconnect from the rest of the world because she had gone so long without forming any human attachments, but now she was. She wouldn’t be able to escape the scrutiny as easily. There was no more hiding.
And while she had already met most of the mercenaries during a surprise trip to Ireland for Celt a week and a half ago, Calavera hadn’t been able to make it in time. Her gift to the new and hastily married couple had more than made up for her lack of attendance.
Iris wasn’t short by any means, but Calavera still towered over her by a few inches without heels. Her brown hair was cut to her shoulders, her eyes that same lovely shade of brown, and circled around her neck was a gold collar with a small hoop dangling from the front.
“I would say don’t believe anything you might have heard about me, but”—Iri
s shrugged—“it’s probably true.”
Like the fact she was responsible for Synek getting taken by the Wraiths and subsequently tortured for three days. Or that she had drugged him and made out with him minutes later.
It was one hell of a way to start a relationship.
But if she was judging her for it, it didn’t reflect on her face. “Oh, no worries. Knowing Syn, that was probably foreplay.”
Iris didn’t know whether to laugh or agree because she wasn’t wrong. But before she could say as much, they were no longer alone. “Don’t scare her off, Calavera, yeah? I’m trying to keep this one,” Synek called as he locked the apartment and walked over to them. “Where’s your assassin? I’m surprised he’s not here issuing some sort of warning.”
“He’s back at the compound waiting for you with the Kingmaker.”
“Right. I’m off then.”
He pressed a hard, fast kiss to Iris’s mouth, though his words were for Calavera. “Take care of her.”
Iris fought a smile. “I can take care of myself, Syn.”
“I know,” he said, fishing out an envelope and handing it to her.
“What’s this?”
“You’re going to need it.”
“Syn doesn’t believe in credit cards,” Calavera supplied. “Or bank accounts, for that matter.”
“That’s not completely true, though, is it? Winter keeps my finances secure.”
“Because you’re the only one of us who still takes cash as payment, Syn.”
As they bantered back and forth, Iris peeked into the envelope, her breath catching as she realized just how much money he’d tucked inside. All in crisp one-hundred-dollar bills.
“I can’t take this,” she muttered before closing it, trying to hand it back now that she had his attention again. “I still have, you know … the other payment.”
For her role in his kidnapping.
They had never spoken about it, and she hadn’t touched the money since it showed up in her account. She felt too guilty.
His brows shot up, but he didn’t look angry. “How much was the bounty?”
Iris stared at him a moment, trying to gauge whether he actually wanted to know or if the answer would upset him, but the only thing she saw in his face was genuine curiosity.
“Thirty thousand.”
“Oh, you were cheap, Syn,” Calavera said with a light laugh. “I wouldn’t have accepted anything less than a quarter for you.”
“Always haggle, dove,” Synek replied as he kissed her forehead and walked back over to her car.
Only Synek would be more upset about the price on his head than the fact she had been the one to collect it.
“You do know that’s my car, right?” she asked as he opened the driver’s door.
“What’s mine is yours and all,” he answered back before slipping inside and starting it up.
Iris watched him drive away, the engine growling as he sped off, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything other than a warm sense of contentment.
“We should go,” Calavera said as she pushed off the car. “We’ve got a lot to do in a few hours.”
“A lot?” Iris asked. “I thought we only needed to pick a dress?”
That was what Synek had told her anyway.
Calavera’s smile was small but amused. “Syn wants you to pick up more. Says you had to give up your apartment or something?”
Of course, he would think of that when she hadn’t.
He was proving thoughtful that way.
“Looks like we’re going shopping.”
* * *
Boutiques, as beautiful as they could be, were foreign to Iris.
She had never stepped foot inside one a day in her life—at least, not the kind that had a doorman along with a guest card Calavera presented from her back pocket.
Iris existed in Levi’s jeans and leather jackets. And when she did wear a dress, it had never come from a place like this where it looked as if every price tag would cause her to do a double take.
One backlit wall was made up entirely of heels, none under four inches. The one to the left held colorful purses in every shade imaginable—the leather expertly designed and tailored. And finally, to the left and up a small winding staircase were racks of beaded and jeweled dresses.
“This is a bit …” Iris looked around, drinking it all in. “Unnecessary.”
In her experience, the men she went after didn’t care very much about the name sewn on the dress or how much it cost—they only cared how short it was and whether it would be easy to remove later. Even if she had no intention of coming out of it.
“When I first started,” Calavera said as they walked deeper into the boutique, “I didn’t think I would ever have to do this.” She gestured around the boutique with a small sweep of her hand as if she could read Iris’s thoughts. “I had this job where I needed to get close to a Russian diplomat. The problem is, when you’re around people like that, they notice if you don’t look the way you’re supposed to.”
Although Iris had never been in that particular scenario before, she understood the meaning behind it. It was all about blending in with the people around them.
Which, essentially, was what she had done all these years.
Her clothes were bought in stores everyone had access to, and she usually strayed toward grays and blacks that never stuck out in the sea of similar shades.
She was supposed to be happy about that—not blending in with others. Being able to be someone rather than a shell of herself, but she wasn’t yet sure how she felt about stepping out of the shadows and into the spotlight.
“Plus,” Calavera said, drawing her from her troubled thoughts. “If the focus is on you, it won’t be on Synek.”
Because people, and men in particular, had a tendency not to suspect women of treachery.
A woman in her mid-forties stepped out from behind the counter, her hair styled in an immaculate chignon, the red soles of her heels flashing when she turned. She was beautiful and every bit the saleswoman as she offered that same smile to Iris.
“Always a pleasure to see one of my favorite customers.” The woman greeted Calavera with an infectious smile, walking over to gently grasp her upper arms before pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks.
Calavera laughed lightly. “It’s good to see you too, Joanne.”
“And your husband? All is well, I trust?”
Calavera nodded even as she reached up to fiddle with the link on her collar. A nervous gesture Iris didn’t think the other woman was aware of.
“Everything is great. But I’m not here for me this time.”
Joanne looked disappointed by the news, making Iris wonder just how much Calavera spent in this store. Though, with just a cursory look around, she could guess the number was high.
Not that she didn’t understand why. Inside these four walls was a woman’s paradise.
Joanne walked them upstairs, carrying on a conversation with Calavera as Iris took a moment to better look at the selection of gowns—from cocktail to evening and everything in between and in a variety of shades. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out shopping that wasn’t strictly because she needed to be. Definitely never in a place like this.
As they reached the second landing, on the wall where bags had been displayed below was replaced by a row of mannequins wearing dresses that were far too pretty to be worn.
“What are we looking for today?” Joanne asked with a clasp of her hands as she faced them.
“It’s for a charity fundraiser,” Iris replied.
“Something that’s understated but unmistakable,” Calavera added.
“I have a few ideas in mind,” Joanne said before slipping past them. “I’ll be right back.”
Once she disappeared out of view, it was just the pair of them again.
They hadn’t spoken much during the car ride, not that Iris knew what to say. She was much better at answering questions of those closest
to her rather than asking. Small talk had never been her strong suit.
“I’m curious,” Calavera said as she traced her fingers over a royal blue dress, letting the fabric slip through her fingers.
“About me and Syn?” she asked, expecting as much.
“About you, actually.” When Iris looked skeptical, she added, “Trust me, I know all about unlikely relationships. Imagine being married to your boss’s brother.”
“There’s nothing really special about me.”
She had never finished school—though she had bought enough secondhand textbooks over the years to learn everything she possibly could—but once this was over, she had every intention of finishing her education.
But there was not much more to her than her time with the Wraiths. She could tell her about the years between one and the other, but that wouldn’t make very good conversation. Not to mention she hadn’t even gotten around to telling Syn all about it yet.
“There’s something,” Calavera said, turning to face her. “Belladonna picked you for a reason.”
Now, it was Iris’s turn to stare. “I don’t understand.”
Though it had seemed important when Iris brought up the woman’s name to Synek—enough that he had brought her to the Den compound for the very first time—no one had asked her about Belladonna since then.
There almost seemed be this code of silence when it came to her. As if just saying her name was bad luck.
“Everybody’s blinded by something. They’re not seeing what’s right in front of them.”
“How do you mean?”
“The first time I ever met her, Belladonna I mean, she pretended she didn’t know who I was, but she did. It was all a part of this elaborate hunt she sent me on so I could find out some things about myself. Who’s to say she isn’t doing that same thing now?”
Though Iris had wondered if there were any ulterior motives behind Belladonna’s visit to the Wraiths, she hadn’t been able to find anything concrete. If she had thought the Kingmaker was hard to find anything on, Belladonna was even worse.
“Maybe there’s a connection between you that we just haven’t found yet.”
“There isn’t,” Iris said with a shake of her head.
Den of Mercenaries [Volume Two] Page 51
