Celt. (Den of Mercenaries Book 2)

by London Miller

  “Get a move on, boys,” Calavera said wryly. “You can admire her ass later.”

  Skorpion was the first to breach, Kyrnon close behind. Muffled shots sounded as Red took out the security around the perimeter. They weren’t dead, but it would hurt like a bitch and knock them out for a while.

  Separating, Kyrnon headed around back, following the blueprints Winter had sent, guiding him to the safe the fastest. Unlike most of the homes in the area, the master was on the main floor. It was in that room that he would find the safe.

  The back doors were already open, Calavera already in the room with a rug tossed in the corner, her hostages tied up in the corner.

  “This is your specialty,” Calavera said gesturing to the safe’s door.

  It was an older model, one that lacked the sophistication that newer models implemented to prevent exactly what Kyrnon was about to do. Setting three small explosives along the safe’s handle, he took a step back, counting to one before he hit the switch, blowing the charges.

  Sparks lit up the room, smoke billowing as the dynamite went off. Kyrnon dropped to the floor, waving at the smoke as he got the safe open, tossing out the pieces of the safe that had blew off inside.

  “You have no right!” The woman, Amanda he guessed, said from her spot on the floor.

  “It was never yours to begin with,” Kyrnon muttered, too focused on emptying the contents rather than entertain whatever she was saying.

  There wasn’t much to be found, besides a few bonds, gold bars, and bundles of money. If he had to guess, whatever had been stored in here prior, Amanda had already had it moved.

  But toward the bottom, he found what he had come for.

  He could tell from just the weight in his palm that the diamond necklace was worth a small fortune, and as he pulled it free, the diamonds sparkled, glinting even in the low light of the room.

  Good as done.

  Stuffing it in his pocket, Kyrnon retrieved his rifle. “Let’s move.”

  Quick as that, they were heading back out of the house … at least until one of her security they hadn’t tagged hit the corner fast, striking Calavera hard in the face before he turned his sights on Kyrnon.

  Flipping his rifle over his back, Kyrnon lunged for the other man, his hand forming a fist seconds before he slammed it into the man’s jaw. Another into his body followed quickly, and finally a boot to the chest.

  The other man sprawled out, blood in his teeth as he snarled, ready to charge back at Kyrnon, but he had his rifle in his hand before the man could move a step. “Stand down. Last warning.”

  Calavera had a taser in her hand before he could make another move, sending fifty-thousand volts through the man’s body, leaving him unconscious on the ground once his body had stopped convulsing.

  Another five minutes and they were speeding out of there, Skorpion in one direction, the rest of them in the other. By the time they arrived at the plane with an hour to spare, Kyrnon was counting down, calculating his expected arrival time from how long the flight was going to take.

  Just enough.

  He’d have just enough.

  About an hour into the flight, however, Red got a call that made Kyrnon sit up a little straighter, his eyes narrowing.

  “Right.” Red said, an edge to his voice. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “What?” Kyrnon demanded to know, but a part of him knew just from the way the other man had turned his eyes on him, what Red was going to say. He amended his question. “How?”

  He had specifically told her what they were up against, and he didn’t doubt for a second that she would do what he asked of her—meaning she wasn’t to step foot outside his place until he got back and gave her the all clear.

  “They posed as delivery men—told her she needed to sign off on it. She couldn’t have known it wasn’t real.”

  Without thinking, Kyrnon slammed his fist into the seat in front of him.

  What was worse was the knowledge that he was thousands of feet in the air, and hours from reaching New York. He felt helpless in that moment, a feeling he hadn’t needed to rid himself of in years.

  “Easy,” Red said, the voice of reason for once. “She’ll want that necklace more than she’ll want to hurt Amber.”

  But that didn’t mean Elora wouldn’t have her hurt in the meantime. And now that the woman had gotten to Amber, he had lost control over the situation. Now he was chartering into unfamiliar territory where he would have to play by her rules.

  “Birds like her won’t leave it at that,” Kyrnon said. She would want to make Amber pay, even if the notion was misplaced.

  “We can try to take her by force.”

  “But we don’t know where she’s being held,” Kyrnon finished, feeling the throbbing headache start behind his eyes.

  No matter what strategy he came up with in his head, there were too many unknown variables.

  Except …

  There was only one man he knew that had enough power to quell whatever Elora planned.

  Kyrnon just needed the man to name his price.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It had all been a blur …

  As safe as she was in Kyrnon's loft, she hadn't thought that anyone would have ben able to find her in it. And that was why she hadn't given much thought when the buzzer sounded, a delivery man waiting downstairs for her to sign for the painting Kyrnon had bought at the auction. One minute she was headed downstairs, ready to sign the slip, the next she felt a pinch in her neck and everything went dark.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed since she was taken. For all she knew, it could have been hours, but however long it was, she wished she could escape from the darkened room.

  Her hands were bound behind her back, and her ankles had been tied together as well until a man had come in not too long ago and cut them free.

  Amber couldn’t get her hopes up that she might have been able to find her way out of there, not when there was nothing but a mattress on the floor and a toilet in the corner, yet nothing that could cut the cloth from her wrists.

  A part of her knew, as she paced the small space, that she had made a stupid mistake by going downstairs. It wasn’t that she had meant to break Kyrnon’s rule of never leaving his place until he got back and gave her the all clear, but she hadn’t thought that they would have been able to find her at his place, especially when she had barely stepped outside.

  But here she was, and if she made it out of this room alive, she would never, ever make the same mistake again.

  There was a commotion beyond the door, the raised voices on the other side of it making her sit up, heart hammering in her chest as she waited with baited breath to see whether or not it was for her they were coming.

  Sure enough, the door sprang open, a bald man with a stern frown came walking in, the gun tucked in his waist on display.

  Using her legs, Amber moved backward until her back was against the wall, and should there be a need for it, she could fight them off, but the man merely moved to a corner, folding massive arms across his chest as he kept cold eyes on her.

  It was the woman walking in after him that was clearly the head of the operation. She wore a figure-hugging black dress, her dark hair falling in elaborate curls around her face. As pretty as she was, there was something dangerous in her gaze as she settled on Amber.

  “It’s a shame we had to meet under these circumstances,” she said with a radiant smile. “Your skill at forgeries is some of the best work I’ve seen. Had a friend not come by my office and remarked upon it, I would have never known.”

  Amber may not have known who this woman was, but she knew better than to respond to a statement she knew had no right answer.

  “I have money.” Not just what she had from the painting, but if she called her father, he would give her anything she asked for. “Whatever—”

  “And what about that Irishman of yours? What would he be willing to give for your safe return?”

  Licking her dry l
ips, Amber glanced at the other man in the room, then back to her. “Anything.”

  The woman’s smile was slow and mocking. “I’m counting on it. Bring her.”

  Heavy hands fell on her as she was dragged to her feet, then pulled from the room. Without preamble, they followed behind the woman in the expensive heels.

  A black sedan waited for them outside the building she was stored in, and as she was shuffled into the back of it, she didn’t know what to feel.

  Fear was there, strong and incessant, making her feel like she could hardly breathe, but as she stared across the seat at the woman that was holding her captive until Kyrnon got back, it wasn’t fear for herself that was consuming her, but fear for Kyrnon.

  It made no sense, especially since she knew he was fully capable of taking care of himself, but that didn’t stop her from wondering what would happen once the woman got Kyrnon where she wanted.

  And what was worse, she had yet to tell him she loved him. Three simple, little words that would mean so much. It might not have changed where they found themselves, but at least he would have known had she just told him.

  Now, she might not get the chance.

  “Don’t look so forlorn,” the woman said, mistaking Amber’s expression. “Men love to be the white knight.”

  It wasn’t long until they were arriving at another industrial building, this one far more upscale than the last.

  “Attempt to run,” the woman said as she donned her sunglasses. “And you’ll be dead before you reach the end of the block.”

  With a warning like that …

  They all boarded an elevator, heading up to the fifth floor that let out onto a floor of offices. Led through various corridors, they finally stopped at a back office that had a near 360-degree view of the city. From what she could tell, most of the offices had the same.

  Inside, there were far more men, these dressed similarly to the way Kyrnon had been the day he confronted her boss. They barely spared her a glance, like they knew she wasn’t a threat. How could she be when her hands were still bound and she didn’t have a weapon?

  Shoved into a seat, Amber had no choice but to wait, counting the minutes in her head.

  Until there was no longer a need.

  Static from the walkie-talkie clipped to a man’s belt sounded, a sharp voice on the other end announcing that there was a visitor.

  Amber’s heart rate kicked up. They didn’t have to say a name for her to know that it was Kyrnon, that he was finally back. But she didn’t feel relief just yet, not when they hadn’t made it out just yet.

  From her position, she could just see the elevators, or at least the men standing in front of them. The thought had just crossed her mind when there was a chime and the doors slid open slowly.

  A heartbeat passed before she saw the beginning of a silencer, a gasp of surprise leaving her as the man’s head jerked back with the force of the bullet ripping through his skull.

  There was one thing seeing it on television, but witnessing it firsthand, followed by the spray of blood as brain matter exploded out the back of his head, Amber didn’t think she would ever forget the sight.

  But she couldn’t bring herself to look away, not even when one of the other guards went down just as quickly.

  Despite the rather graphic display of violence, the woman behind the desk didn’t look moved by it, more irritated than afraid for her life, not even when Kyrnon came around the corner, eyes blazing, guns at the ready.

  He looked fearless.

  Unwavering.

  Willing to cut through anyone that stood in his way.

  Yet, even with his fingers wrapped around the triggers, he didn’t shoot anyone else despite having already killed two men.

  “Now, let’s not be hasty,” the woman said with a delicate smile, slowly getting to her feet. “There’s no need in acting uncivilized, mercenary. As long as you have my payment, she’s all yours.”

  Even as she said this, one of her men drew closer to Amber’s side, pressing the barrel of a gun to her temple. He cocked back the hammer, the sound impossibly loud next to her ear.

  Kyrnon’s gaze found hers, needing the visual confirmation that she was okay before he addressed the woman. “Either he moves that gun, or he loses a hand. Test me if you want, but I’ve never missed a shot.”

  “Are you willing to bet her life on it?” she asked, another set of men appearing, all aiming for Kyrnon’s head. “Had you not murdered my men, I might have let you leave this place, but because of your arrogance, the price has gone up.”

  Kyrnon smirked. “I have what you want.” From one of the pockets in his vest, he drew out a necklace that had more diamonds than Amber had ever seen in person. “You give her back to me, this is yours.”

  “You’re entirely too attractive to be this stupid,” she said with a shake of her head. “In case you didn’t notice, you are grievously outnumbered.”

  In their focus on Kyrnon, no one heard the elevators open once more, nor did they notice the man that was now walking toward them.

  “Come now, Elora,” he announced once he was in the room with them, “that’s quite enough of that.”

  Amber may have been focused on Kyrnon, feeling like her heart was about to break out of her chest as she stared at the red dots illuminated on his forehead from the scopes of their rifles, but from the way everyone around her seemed to focus on the man that was now entering the room, she had no choice but to look to him as well.

  There was something about him … something that she couldn’t adequately describe, but it was clear that whoever he was, he had more power than anyone in this room since he didn’t seem to care about the guns drawn, or the fact that there was already a few dead bodies on the ground. He simply walked past them as though they didn’t matter.

  “Curious,” the woman, Elora, said as she re-crossed her legs. “I didn’t believe we were on a first name basis, Kingmaker.”

  “No one ever is, I can assure you, but we aren’t here for such trivial matters. While I’m usually a fan of violence as a tool to teach a lesson,” he took a seat in one of the stuffed armchairs in the office, and despite Elora having had the upper hand before, it was clear this was no longer the case, “now is not one of those times. I have plans, you understand. And if I want them to come to fruition, then I need all my players. Celt is one of them.”

  “Then perhaps your players should mind their steps,” Elora returned as she glared at him. “I’ve killed people for less.”

  The Kingmaker, as he seemed to be called, barely spared Amber a glance as a fleeting smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he regarded Elora. “We all have our faults, no? And that has always been your problem, Elora. Your insecurity causes you to act before you think.”

  “How dare—”

  “Save the theatrics for someone that cares for them. I don’t.”

  Elora’s cheeks colored as her rage grew. “Perhaps you’ve failed to notice but you’re not in charge here. Unlike everyone else that you have wrapped around your thumb, these men answer to me. So unless you’re ready to meet your death at the hands of them, I suggest you watch your tone.”

  There was a dark sort of amusement in the Kingmaker’s eyes as he regarded the woman, as though she were a bug he wasn’t quite ready to squash. “And how carefully do you think I should tread?”

  Elora, though she was still standing proud, hesitated a moment before she finally spoke. “You underestimate me at your own peril.”

  “Or perhaps it is you that underestimates me, but that’s no fault of your own. If that husband of yours had taught you anything more than how best to suck his cock, you would know that. But I’ll rectify that error.”

  Her mouth opened, readying to snap out another reply, but before she could get a word in, the Kingmaker lifted a hand to silence her.

  “Kill them all.”

  Even Amber felt a moment of confusion before the sound of splintering glass had her jolting from her position on the floo
r, a yelp of surprise leaving her as the hand that was clenched in her hair loosened as the man it was attached to jerked back, slamming into the ground as a bullet plunged its way into his head.

  The force of his fall knocked her to the ground as well, the glass that now littered the floor slicing into her hands and along her arms, but she ignored that pain as more bodies hit the floor.

  Seconds … that was all it had taken for the tides to shift in the Kingmaker’s favor.

  Amber had thought she had seen power in Kyrnon or Niklaus or Mishca or Luka, but it was nothing compared to this man.

  “Now, should I continue on with this demonstration, or do you get my point?” The Kingmaker asked, as though he hadn’t ordered the execution of at least four men. “But know that my men are not ordered to kill you, Elora. We’ll start at your ankles and work our way up. It will be a slow and painful death should it come to that. Now, shall we begin?”

  Realizing she was out of options, and desperately wanting to live, Elora swallowed her pride. “What do you want?”

  He smiled. “I’m so glad you asked.” But the Kingmaker didn’t give a demand just yet, instead he looked to Amber first, cold eyes sweeping over her, then to Kyrnon who was already on his feet and moving toward her. “Take her. Expect a call in one hour.”

  Amber was still staring at the man, even as she felt Kyrnon’s touch on her arm, helping her to her feet. She had fully expected another threat to leave his lips, this one addressed to her, making sure she understood that she was never to talk about what she had witnessed.

  But as she was turned to exit, nearly tripping over one of the bodies on the floor, she realized there was no need for a verbal warning.

  It lay all around her on the cold marble flooring.

  * * *

  Dabbing a cotton ball soaked in peroxide against the cut on her palm, Kyrnon was quite thorough in cleaning the wound on her hand, losing himself in the act. It was enough to focus him squarely on her being alive and right there next to him.