Skorpion. (Den of Mercenaries Book 5)

by London Miller

  Plus, he wanted to see Uilleam’s reaction—he wanted to read the man that read others.

  On the surface, Uilleam had his brother’s careful composure—the ability to hide what he was thinking whenever it called for it and even when it didn’t—but everyone had a weak spot.

  His was the woman he’d loved and lost.

  His gaze lifted first, completely forgetting about whatever he’d been reading to focus on Keanu.

  No, he couldn’t have hidden his reaction to her name even if he’d tried. It was written all over the way his jaw tightened and his hands flexed and tightened.

  Worse, Keanu wasn’t sure whether this display of emotion was because he was annoyed that Karina seemed to show herself to everyone but him, or if she just had this level of effect on him.

  “Enlighten me,” he said, his voice tight.

  “She had the Jackal with her.” He thought of the man who’d stood silent and unblinking … the half mask that covered his face.

  He’d probably fit right in with the Wild Bunch.

  “And …”

  He told him as much as he could about the short meeting, leaving out the details at the end regarding Ada’s sister.

  For now, anyway.

  “If nothing else,” he finished, “she plans on making your life a living hell.”

  Nix made a sound in the back of his throat. “Now I see why you’ve always steered clear of relationships, brother. Somehow you’ve managed to turn your lover homicidal. Nicely done.”

  Keanu might have laughed had he not been thinking about Ada and the truths Belladonna had hinted at.

  Uilleam elected to ignore that. “If she’d coming out of hiding more frequently, that means we’re getting close. Let’s focus on that, shall we?” He looked back to Keanu. “Once you’ve finished … whatever it is you’re doing, I’ll need you to—”

  “You must have forgotten. I don’t work for you.”

  “Apologies if you thought I was about to ask a favor of you.”

  There was a reason he’d walked away from Uilleam years ago, and the last thing he needed was to start back up with him, especially now that a war was brewing.

  “You’re all out of those, Uilleam.”

  Keanu could practically feel the temperature drop in the room, not that it fazed him in any way.

  No one, with the exception of Nix, ever used his name when they spoke to him. If you were smart, you used a variation of his moniker, but no one dared utter his name.

  At one time, Keanu had also called him by his name, but that was before he’d become obsessed with the power his moniker carried and seemed to have forgotten that he was just a mere mortal like the rest of them.

  “At the very least,” Nix said before he could comment, “at some point, she intends to use your mercenaries against you.”

  “A problem for a later time,” Uilleam said. “My only concern is her and what she’s planning.”

  The two spoke in hushed voices, switching between English and Welsh, Keanu hardly able to keep up.

  He could have walked away, left the conversation as it was—he should have walked away—but Keanu had never been good at leaving questions unanswered.

  “What did you do?”

  Uilleam didn’t blink at the question, but Nix … his expression cleared, his face a careful mask of disinterest. He knew, though the question was vague, what Keanu was really asking.

  And that look also told him that he knew why he’d been approached all those years ago.

  “I’ve done many things in my life—both righteous and deplorable,” Uilleam said without looking up. “Which do you speak of?”

  “Ada’s sister is here in LA.”

  Uilleam reclined back in his chair, meeting his gaze. “Would you prefer I act surprised?”

  He sounded bored as he asked the question—uncaring that he’d lured a girl to her possible death.

  It might have been because he was still thinking of Belladonna’s ominous words, or the looming threat that still hung over Ada’s head, but whatever the reason, had him stalking toward Uilleam, fully intending on dragging his ass from behind that desk.

  “As entertaining as that might be,” Nix said before he’d taken more than a step, probably anticipating what he wanted to do, “I don’t believe my wife would be as forgiving.”

  No, Calavera wouldn’t.

  Even beyond the fact that Uilleam was Kit’s brother, and her brother-in-law because of it, she had a soft spot for him—the only mercenary, really, who did.

  “You won’t always be so lucky, Uilleam.”

  “Is that what you think?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm as he stood. “That I got here because of luck? Understand me, Keanu, I’ve never needed my brother’s protection and I won’t start now. If you ever want to challenge me, by all means, be my guest.”

  “You’re crossing the—”

  “Oh, spare me your hypocrisy. I’ve crossed every line imaginable without blinking an eye—some of which you’ve helped me cross. In case you haven’t realized, I couldn’t possibly care less about your relationship with that girl, nor any of the other women you mercenaries have shackled yourselves to. You, none of you, mean anything to me.”

  No malice colored his words, nor any biting edge that said he was merely trying to cut him down—he truly meant what he said.

  “You serve one purpose for me and that is to fulfill my endgame—no matter how uncomfortable it might make you. Have I made myself clear?”

  “I—We aren’t your fucking pawns, Uilleam. You don’t get to play that game with us.”

  “Or what?” he challenged, stepping around his brother, his eyes gone hard as he glared at him. “What exactly will you do to me? In case you’ve forgotten, Keanu, there are more than just seven of you that make up my Den. Dozens more answer to me and should there ever come a need, they’re more than willing to do whatever I ask without hesitation. Let this be your only warning.”

  He’d been a fool to think there was any loyalty between them, that the seven he meant—Red, Celt, Calavera, himself, Syn, Grimm, and Winter—were worth anything more than the body count they’d racked up and the power they’d afforded him.

  His last mistake.

  If Uilleam expected a reaction, Keanu refused to give him one. Instead, he drew in a breath and held it, waiting until his lungs protested before blowing it out. “When this is done, I’m out. No more ties. No more favors. We’re finished.”

  “Then let’s hope for your sake, you live that long. Now, if you’re finished wasting my time, I’m quite certain Roger Fitzpatrick is still waiting to be dealt with. Oh, and in case you haven’t bothered to check into him yet, he’s suddenly back in Los Angeles after a sabbatical in Prague. Curious, his timing, since the sister you’re so up in arms about is here as well. Perhaps I did you a favor.”

  Nix looked as if he wanted to speak, to undue some of the damage his brother had inflicted, but Keanu didn’t give him the chance.

  Instead, he turned on his heel and headed for the door without looking back.

  The end had come sooner than he expected, Karina’s words echoing in the back of his mind.

  Now … now he understood how easily she’d managed to turn Calavera away from Nix for as many years as she’d been able to.

  And it wasn’t with carefully concealed lies and colorful embellishments.

  She’d simply told the truth.

  Because sometimes, truths were as poisonous as any lie.

  18

  After Keanu had gone off again and Marie had passed out soon after, Ada couldn’t bring herself to just sit around and wait for his return. She wasn’t helpless, and despite his desire for her to let him handle it, it was still her problem, and she refused to let him take on the brunt of it without doing anything at all.

  She couldn’t help but think about everything they’d told her, of the seventeen accounts and the money she’d taken. It had all been a blur when she started taking the money in the b
eginning, and though she could guess how much money she had taken over the months, even she wasn’t sure of the actual dollar amount.

  And the more that thought ran through her head, the more she wanted an actual figure.

  Decision made, she went in search of a pen and paper, and the laptop in Keanu’s office that she hadn’t touched since she’d been here. She brought all back to the bed where she sat cross-legged with the laptop resting on her thighs.

  With the pen in hand, she started at the beginning from the very first withdrawal she ever made. That one was smaller than the rest—she’d still been too nervous about getting caught and the consequences of it all to take more than she had.

  The second was slightly larger and by the time she got to the fifth, she was taking more than fifty-thousand dollars each time. Sometimes the number varied and fluctuated, but for the most part, she took about the same amount once she became comfortable.

  Now, it was just a matter of matching the withdrawals from the accounts.

  Though she couldn’t directly access the files she needed because of the firm’s security, she was able to get into the bank accounts directly since she’d been the one to set up the majority of them.

  For many hours, she sat in that very spot, lining up transactions with their corresponding dates. It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning as the sun peeked over the horizon that she finally finished.

  But the result wasn’t at all what she was expecting.

  Of all the accounts she’s siphoned money from, only one of them had several large withdrawals, all of which were done anonymously, and all around the same time as she’d been taking the money.

  Going over it, she wasn’t sure how she’d missed it at all, but she’d been sloppy back then—more concerned with getting caught than realizing someone else was stealing too.

  The beep of the alarm disengaging sounded as the front door opened and shut, then the quick succession of numbers being typed in to disarm it. A few seconds passed before Keanu was stepping into the bedroom, his expression drawn and tight.

  He was quiet tonight, almost too quiet.

  “Did something happen?” she asked, setting the papers and laptop aside as she reached for him.

  In the few days they’d been back in LA, she’d grown used to his assurances, his promises that everything would be alright and that there was nothing to worry about. Despite herself, she’d grown to expect it.

  But instead of a quick smile and nod of his head, he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her clear off the bed with ridiculous ease before dropping down where she’d been sitting and pulling her onto his lap.

  For a long while, he didn’t speak, his face buried in the crook of her neck, the tension in him slowly bleeding away even as hers grew.

  “Is it bad?” she whispered, almost afraid to ask, especially knowing her sister was merely across the hall. “You can tell me …”

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  It was an answer that told her nothing. “Tell me anyway.”

  “I saw an old friend tonight,” he said after a sigh. “It didn’t go the way I thought it would.”

  Though she didn’t know what he was talking about, she still squeezed the hand he had resting on her stomach, trying to offer comfort as much as she could. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.” He looked over at the mess of papers she’d been working on, picking one up. His brow furrowed as he tried to decipher what she’d written. “What are you in here doing?”

  She wanted to question him further about what had happened to him tonight, but thought better of it. He would tell her when he was ready. “I had a thought. You said there were seventeen accounts, but only sixteen actually put out a hit on me, isn’t that right?”

  “Yeah, go on.”

  Pushing out of his lap, she stood and paced the floor. “I don’t think we ever asked the question of just how they came to know that I had stolen money from them. To be honest, I chose their accounts specifically because their underused and rarely checked. Which can only mean that one of the seventeen had to have told the others what I had done, right?”

  Ada didn’t realize she had been ranting on until she paused long enough to look back at him, noting the look of curious amusement on his face.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “It makes sense.”

  She leveled a look on him that only made him smile. “So when I started digging into it all, I found one account that had multiple transactions that I didn’t make.”

  His expression changed then, turning from mild amusement to rapt attention. “Did you find a name?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t tell you who took the money out, but I can tell you what the account is for. From what I can gather, it was linked to a nonprofit that’s endorsing Michael Spader.”

  Ada expected a look of surprise that crossed his face at the name, but it leaned more toward disbelief than actual surprise that she’d used the name of a candidate for governor.

  “What? What’s that look for?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. If you were able to take money from the account, that means he does business with your old firm. Who opened the account for him?”

  When she opened her mouth to respond, Ada hesitated. “I didn’t look that up.”

  He handed over the laptop she’d been using as she came toward him. “A moment, please. Looks like it was opened by … oh.” She stared at the screen, trying to be sure she was reading it correctly. “My boss opened the account for him, but that doesn’t make any sense. If he knew what I was doing, why—”

  “Why did he wait until after the Kingmaker showed an interest in you?” he finished for her. “I suspect it has very little to do with you, and something much bigger, but I’ll know for sure once I ask him.”

  Aa chewed on her bottom lip, not liking the sound of that. “If he was planning to use me as his scapegoat, I can only imagine what he would do to you.”

  “Worried I won’t come back to you?” he asked, and unlike the playful tone she’d grown used to, he sounded oddly serious.

  As if he really wanted an answer to the question.

  Was this their moment … “Of course. I want … I want to be wherever you are.”

  “For how long?” he asked touching her hand, drawing her closer. “Until this is over? A month? A year?”

  “For as long as you’ll have me,” she responded. “I—”

  He kissed her before she could finish, making her forget everything but this moment.

  Only after she was putty in his arms did he pull away long enough to say, “Tell me after.”

  Color splotched across her cheeks. “After?”

  “When this is all over, tell me you want to stay. Yeah?”

  How could she ever say no to that? “Yeah.”

  “Have you and the boss had a row?” Syn asked as he fixed a cigarette between his lips, cupping the flame of his lighter and inhaling deeply as the end burned bright red.

  Keanu barely spared him a glance as he killed the engine of his car, watching the building they were sitting in front of. After his conversation with Ada earlier, he had a lot on his mind and the last thing he wanted to do was spend another moment thinking about Uilleam and everything he’d done.

  “What’s that?”

  Syn blew out a stream of smoke, tapping ash off out the side window. “He’s being a tit and last I heard, he was with you, so get off it. Tell us what’s happened.”

  Ada’s boss, Roger Fitzpatrick, was tucked away inside the posh hotel a block down and hadn’t come out of his room in two days according to one of Keanu’s contacts in the hotel. Though he had a key card tucked away in his pocket that opened any door in the place, he wanted to wait until the man made an appearance out here to grab him for their conversation.

  But if they had to wait any longer, Keanu was inclined to go inside to handle it. Time was running out and his patience was wearing thin.

&
nbsp; “Thought you didn’t like questions?” he asked Syn, watching as a couple exited the front doors hand in hand.

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t ask them, does it?”

  Yeah, he knew all about that. “Then answer a question of mine.”

  “Fucking hell, I ain’t trying to make conversation, mate.”

  Ignoring that, he went on, “How’d the Kingmaker find you?”

  No one, with the exception of Winter, knew the story as to how Syn had ended up in the Den. The others’ stories were private as well, but eventually, word had gotten around enough that the details were sparse but enough to get an idea from.

  For Syn? Nothing.

  No one ever breathed a word about him.

  Belladonna seemed to know and if what she hinted at was true, there was a chance Uilleam was behind it, and God forbid Syn ever found out about that. He didn’t think even Nix would be able to hold the Brit off for long.

  “He didn’t find me,” Syn said reluctantly, his voice low and tight. “Not exactly. I found him, I think. It’s all a jumble.” He tapped his temple, putting the cigarette back in his mouth, mumbling around the filter, “What’s it matter?”

  “Just curious.”

  “I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve been curious about me—all of which involve the number of bodies I’ve put in the ground.”

  It was clear he was expecting an answer, but Keanu wasn’t sure he could offer one, not yet. Even after all these years, he was still protecting Uilleam—even when he didn’t deserve it.

  “Let’s finish this,” he said instead, stepping out of his car, not bothering to look back, knowing Syn was at his heels.

  Through the lobby of the hotel—where the cameras would coincidentally be turned the other way for their entry—they walked to the bank of elevators and took one up seventeen floors. The doors opened with a ding, revealing an empty hallway with dim lighting, a vase of fresh flowers resting on a stand to the left.

  Keanu pulled the key from his pocket, turning it around in his hands as he approached the first door on his right ‘1738’ emblazoned in gold. He waited until Syn was poised behind him, blade in hand before he lifted the key to the electronic pad, waiting until it flashed green before easing the handle down and pushing the door open without making a sound.