Den of Mercenaries: Volume One (The Mercenaries Book 1)

by London Miller

  An emotion flashed in Kit’s eyes. “That’s what they call him anyway. I understand he brought you to my home, yes, but I’m not sure as to the reason why.”

  Luna wasn’t even sure of that answer herself. He spoke of her doing something for him, but he had also mentioned that it wouldn’t be this day that she performed the task—truthfully, he hadn’t even said when, exactly, he would need her to do it.

  “I bought her,” Uilleam said, his voice carrying from down the hall as he approached, a glass in hand.

  If she thought Kit would look unsettled by this, he didn’t. The expression on his face made her think this wasn’t a rare occurrence. “For what purpose?”

  “I didn’t purchase her for my own benefit, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  Kit’s eyes flickered to her a moment before he said, “Very little doesn’t benefit you in some way.”

  As Uilleam came closer, and they stood nearly side by side, she could see it.

  The cut of their jaws …

  The impressive heights …

  And though their eye colors differed, there was a similarity to their eye shape and the dark lashes that lined them both.

  Brothers, she realized. They were brothers.

  A muscle worked in Kit’s jaw as he asked, “She’s a little young for what you need, isn’t she?”

  There was a dark sort of humor to Uilleam’s expression. “Should I be asking that of you?”

  He said something else, something she didn’t understand since he spoke in a different language. Kit answered back in the same, his tone gruff.

  Whatever exchange they were having finished as Kit sliced his hand through the air, silencing whatever Uilleam thought to say next. While Lawrence had seemed to quake at the thought of upsetting Uilleam, Kit didn’t seem to feel such fear.

  “Excuse us, Luna,” he said, looking from his brother to her, the colorful accent that marked his words drawing the syllables of her name out. “Continue as you were.”

  The pair walked off without another word, leaving her standing there looking after them. Once they were out of sight, however, she quickly turned back the way she came and closed herself into her room, thinking it was probably best to stay out of sight.

  And because she was still tired from the journey and her lack of sleep, Luna made sure each of the doors to the room was locked before she climbed up onto the bed and willed herself to sleep.

  It wasn’t until hours later that Luna came awake with a start, sitting bolt upright as her eyes scanned the room. In her delirium, it all came rushing back.

  The auction.

  Her life being sold to a man that seemed a conundrum.

  And Kit.

  There was also Kit.

  A minute at most she had spent in his presence and she still felt … affected by him. But her interest in him, and even his brother, was not sexual. She could admit that they were both handsome, more so than most men she had ever seen in her short life, but she didn’t feel any desire toward them.

  She didn’t think she could feel desire at all, not after everything she had been through.

  Mostly, she was curious.

  Curious how a man as young as Uilleam could spark subservience in men like Lawrence. He was just so young, only old enough to be her older brother, yet he seemed fearless, content in the knowledge that he would get his way.

  And then there was Kit.

  What did it say about the man who wasn’t afraid of the one everyone seemed to fear?

  Did that mean he was worse?

  But she couldn’t possibly answer that question, not when she wasn’t even sure what Uilleam was made of.

  Not entirely.

  Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Luna wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she had watched the pair of brothers walk away, but she guessed several hours since the room was dark, and the sunlight that had shone through the French doors was now absent as the moon hung heavy in the night sky.

  Her stomach rumbling from the lack of food, she made a stop in the bathroom, washing her face free of the remaining traces of makeup she had worn. Looking at her reflection now, she still looked haggard, her eyes a little too sunken, her skin a touch too pale, but beneath that layer, she saw a glimmer of hope.

  Even if foolish, she clung to it.

  After her last encounter with him, she wasn’t sure she wanted to run into Kit again. He had seemed rather … agitated, and even if it were aimed more at Uilleam than her, she thought it best to avoid him entirely.

  Maybe one of the guards could find her Uilleam instead.

  Venturing back out, this time she didn’t linger in the hall to look over the portraits, moving on well past them, though her gaze, unbidden, had flitted to Kit’s before she hit the foyer.

  It was quiet here, barren. And despite all the men she had seen earlier walking the grounds, either they were very good at what they did, or this place was bigger than she had originally suspected.

  The marble flooring was cold beneath her feet as she came into what looked like a formal dining room, with a table that stretched nearly wall to wall, a place setting in from of each of the eighteen chairs. But there was only one setting at the head of the table that had a set of glasses accompanying it, as well as forks and knives.

  And the closer she walked toward it, the better she could smell whatever was cooking in the kitchen. The aroma made her mouth water, her stomach tightening with hunger. Besides the nibbles of the sandwich she’d eaten on the plane, she hadn’t had much else over the last twenty-four hours or so.

  She would need to ask permission first before she touched anything. Back at the estate, Luna had never been able to eat freely—offered only two meals a day, and only if she performed good enough to deserve them.

  In the beginning, Luna had gone days without eating.

  “Luna, is it?” a voice called from behind her.

  A woman with flowing light blond hair stood across the room, eyes trained on Luna as she dropped the hand she held her phone in to her side.

  She wasn’t what Luna was expecting.

  Just the sight of her made Luna feel inadequate. Her hair shone in the dim light of the room, makeup was expertly applied, and there was nothing cheap about the skirt and blouse set she wore. She could have been early to late twenties for all Luna could tell—there wasn’t an imperfection on her.

  “I—yes, I was looking for Uil—The Kingmaker,” she quickly corrected herself, wishing she hadn’t stammered through that entire sentence.

  The woman’s smile was patient. “He’s stepped out at the moment, but I’m sure I can assist you with whatever you need. I’m Aidra.”

  He had told her he was leaving, but she hadn’t believed it would be this soon— then again, she didn’t know what time it was, nor how long she’d been asleep.

  “I’m sorry, I was just going back—” Luna pointed in the direction she meant. It wasn’t fear that had her wanting to get back to her room, but anxiousness of what was coming next.

  Uilleam had seemed rather open, at least—or rather open about his intentions. Kit, and now Aidra … she couldn’t glean a thing.

  “Please, have a seat. Nix should be along shortly,” Aidra offered as she gestured to one of the many seats available.

  “Nix?”

  “Kit,” she explained, though her mouth twisted when she said his name, as though she weren’t accustomed to using it.

  “Is that a nickname?” Luna asked, wondering why it seemed as though everyone she was meeting went by something other than their real name.

  “A moniker, if you will. It helps to conceal your identity,” Aidra explained further, also answering the question she hadn’t asked.

  “And do you have one?” It only seemed right that she would.

  “I’ve never had need of one.”

  Luna waited, thinking she would elaborate, but Aidra didn’t. It took her a moment to realize that her response hadn’t actually answered her question. />
  Maybe she just didn’t want to share it with Luna.

  Was she Kit’s wife? Was this their home that Uilleam had dumped her in and she wasn’t pleased?

  Yet she was being cordial, nice even, without a hint of malice in her tone at all.

  Strange. It was all very strange.

  Glancing down at her own attire—the same short dress from before—then around the dining room once more, Luna felt self-conscious. “I probably shouldn’t. I’m not really dressed—”

  “Don’t worry. Uilleam called ahead to let us know you were coming. I’ve had a few things ordered that should arrive tomorrow. For now, don’t concern yourself with that.”

  While there was no sympathy in the woman’s eyes, there was also no pity—Luna couldn’t say she minded.

  “Are you Kit’s wife?” Luna asked.

  Aidra’s careful mask of indifference slipped as she looked quite shocked at the question. “Assistant would be a better term.”

  Speaking of him, Kit came around the corner, his gaze immediately falling on Luna. Gone was his black on black ensemble, replaced with gray trousers and a white shirt that was neatly tucked inside them, the top button near the collar left undone.

  There was something different about the way he looked at her now. Curiosity was still present, sure, but there was something else there—something that told her he knew about where she’d come from.

  Uilleam had told him, as she thought he would.

  Would he treat her differently now?

  “Good evening, Luna.”

  Kit didn’t have a voice like any other she had ever heard. It was rich, a decadent sound that was pleasing to the ear. Even his cadence, something she had never really paid attention to was nice.

  A part of her had hoped that Uilleam would be walking in behind him, her gaze skirting past him to the dark hallway.

  “Looking for someone?” he asked.

  “Is The Kingmaker coming back?”

  His expression turned thoughtful. “Most aren’t keen on remaining in Uilleam’s company. Is there something you need?”

  It wasn’t that she needed anything in particular, but rather that she was a bit nervous about being alone with him though she had no reason to be.

  She would have asked if she could just skip whatever dinner he was having and retreat back to her room, but her stomach chose that moment to growl louder than she had ever heard it before.

  “Come,” he said with his arm outstretched, but just before his fingers could come in contact with her skin, he looked down at her and asked, “May I?”

  She hadn’t forgotten the way she jerked away from him earlier in the hallway, or his apology after.

  And now he was asking permission to touch her again …

  Such an innocent thing, but it meant more to her than she could ever put into words.

  Giving the slightest of nods, she waited for the moment she felt his touch, just the slightest pressure on her back before she started toward the table and away from the spot she’d been standing in for the longest time.

  He pulled her chair out, pushing it forward once she was seated, then circled to take his own seat at the head of the table where the place setting was waiting.

  It shouldn’t have been anything difficult, sitting at a table to eat like a normal person, but she almost felt clumsy as she adjusted in the chair.

  Over the last few years, she couldn’t remember the last time she ate at a table as opposed to on the floor. Sitting there, she felt out of place, like she didn’t belong.

  “Have you any allergies?” Kit asked, resting his elbows on the table. “Best I know now lest I kill you by mistake.” When she winced, he amended, “Poor choice of words.”

  “Nothing that I’m aware of,” she answered, voice barely above a whisper.

  She didn’t understand what it was about him that made her more wary of his presence than Uilleam’s, especially with their relation, but she felt on edge around him.

  It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes since they sat down that the doors leading into the kitchen were pushed open, a staff of two coming through them carrying domed trays.

  Lobster Caesar salad, a basket of rolls, amongst other things were presented, but Luna didn’t think she had the stomach for any of it anymore.

  It was the lobster, the smell of it. She could remember all too well why she hated the aroma.

  Lawrence liked to toy with her every few days, bringing in the dish every chance he could.

  Sometimes, she had been able to hear the heavy waves crashing against the shore, making her think they were close to the ocean—it would also explain all the seafood he ate.

  So many nights, he would come into her room with plates of food, forcing her to kneel on the floor next to his feet as he ate his meal, but not before he made it a point to show her exactly what she was missing. He would spear some of it, holding it beneath her nose to make her hunger grow, and only when she begged did he finally eat without giving her any, laughing at her weakness.

  No, she really hated the smell of lobster.

  Kit’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Is something wrong?”

  Though the smell of it was making her mouth water with the urge to vomit, Luna shook her head, forcing a smile.

  She was supposed to be grateful, that was what Lawrence had always told her.

  Kit didn’t leave it at that. “Better to tell an unkind truth than to tell a lie.”

  That was easy to say, but she had seen the consequences of unwanted opinions. “I’m fine.”

  He looked like he wanted to argue further, but he remained silent, not speaking again until their plates were placed in front of them. “How well do you know Uilleam?”

  “Not very well.”

  Kit looked skeptical. “But well enough that he told you his name.”

  Luna didn’t realize her mistake until then, but she didn’t get the chance to correct herself before he went on.

  “Have you crossed paths with him before?”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you sure you just don’t remember him?”

  Luna shook her head again. “I don’t think I would have forgotten him.”

  Kit’s lips thinned. “No? Why’s that?”

  She couldn’t say why that question rankled her. “Because I haven’t forgotten any of them. I’ve never seen him before today.” Or yesterday … she wasn’t sure what day it was.

  “That, I believe.”

  Luna looked at him, not understanding his change of response.

  Kit explained, “Lying, you’re terrible at it. When I asked if you were fine, you clenched your hand, but when I asked if you knew Uilleam, you didn’t tense. Learn to break that habit.”

  He’d barely finished that statement before she was ducking her hands beneath the table. It was unnerving, the way he watched her—studied her. She couldn’t understand for the life of her what he was seeing that made him stare for so long.

  Luna’s gaze flickered over to Aidra, where the woman was now seated in a chair across the room, a tablet in her hands as she scanned something.

  If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought Aidra had no longer been in the room.

  “Would you care to tell me why you don’t eat lobster?” he asked, drawing Luna’s attention back to him as he raised his fork.

  She blinked in surprise, looking down to the plate in front of her, wondering when she had given him any indication she didn’t like what was offered. “I—”

  “The truth this time.”

  Chewing her lip, she thought about not answering, but figured there was no point since he would probably force it out of her. “It was his favorite,” she said eventually.

  “He?”

  “Lawrence Kendall. He—”

  “Emmett Kendall’s son,” Kit said thoughtfully. “I’m familiar with them both.”

  Did that mean he frequented the Kendall Estate?

  He was attractive, more than
attractive really, but then again, maybe he needed the power kick like Lawrence. It wasn’t about the girl anymore, but rather the strength they could wield.

  When she didn’t answer, Kit’s gaze shifted to Aidra, words falling from his lips in a language Luna didn’t understand. The other woman responded in kind before she nodded and started off into the kitchen, taking Luna’s plate as she went.

  “It’s really not—”

  “How did you find yourself in Emmett’s brothel?” Kit interrupted, picking up his glass of water. “Did he find you or did you find him?”

  He made it sound as though she had a choice in the matter—that she had actively sought out being a slave to Lawrence’s wants. “Neither. I was given to him.”

  He nodded, but like his brother, he didn’t seem very interested in the information, making Luna wonder why he had even bothered to ask. “And I assume you were then offered to Lawrence?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Kit looked confused. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  Luna fidgeted with her hands in her lap, her leg bouncing beneath the table. “I was supposed to be one of the girls—Emmett’s girls—but Lawrence wanted me to himself.”

  “Was that not preferable to the other possibility?”

  “Are you serious?” The question exploded out of her before she could swallow it back down.

  The way he made it sound, she should have been appreciative that Lawrence had chosen her, as though everything he had put her through couldn’t have possibly been as bad compared to what she might have suffered at the hands of others.

  Kit didn’t look apologetic, but he was regarding her differently now. “I—”

  “No, I never considered who I would prefer to be raped by when I was there. And no, when I was fourteen, or the three years since, I didn’t want Lawrence, or his friends.”

  What suspiciously sounded like a curse sprang from his mouth as he dropped his fork with a clatter on his plate, the rest of his food left untouched. “It was a poor choice of words. I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “If I was given a preference, I would have chosen not to have Lawrence’s attention.” Her eyes stung with the need to cry, her fists clenched tight. “There was a time limit for the men that came there—I’m sure you remember that well—so they took what they wanted then left. There was no leaving with Lawrence. When he wanted to rape me, he did. It didn’t matter when, where, or who was watching. So if you think I wanted that, you’re as sick as he is.”