Red.
BOOK ONE IN THE DEN OF MERCENARIES SERIES
London Miller
Contents
Copyright
Also by London Miller
Dedication
Epigraph
Part 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Part 2
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
CODA
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright © 2016 by London Miller
Cover image licensed through Shutterstock
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Also by London Miller
Volkov Bratva
In the Beginning
Until the End
The Final Hour
Time Stood Still
Valor: What Once Was
Hidden Monsters
For Kris.
Where would I be without you.
Is the man who leads the lamb to slaughter not just as guilty as the man who slits its throat?
Niklaus Volkov
Part One
Chapter One
2009
Niklaus
“This is fucking torture.”
Holding her hand a bit tighter as he hurried them across the street, Niklaus Volkov smiled at his girlfriend, Sarah Buchannan, narrowly missing being hit by a speeding car, its horn still blaring as it continued down the street. Less than thirty-six hours ago, they had boarded a plane to New York, leaving behind the sunny beaches of Florida for the cold, frostbitten streets of Manhattan.
While he might have preferred the sun on his face and a surfboard under his arm, Niklaus didn’t mind the cold, if only because he wanted to make Sarah happy. He was cool with having his balls freeze off—glad for once that he was finally able to give her something she had always wanted.
When they had met, it hadn’t been love at first sight, not even second. She had been head cheerleader at their high school, spending most of her time around a similar crowd. Niklaus, on the other hand, hadn’t even ranked on the social ladder. As the son of a Russian immigrant working long hours scrubbing toilets for the very people he went to school with, they never let him forget his place down at the bottom.
Was he ashamed of his mother? Absolutely not.
Did they try to make him feel that way every chance they got? All the fucking time.
He learned rather quickly that though they ran their mouths constantly, bullying him in a way that only entitled, rich kids could, they weren’t quite as skilled with their fists. And that was one thing he was definitely good at.
Fighting was all he had known after growing up in a rough neighborhood before moving to one that was just a step above it. That skill might have protected him, but it had also nearly prevented him from graduating with his class since the principal had been one step away from expelling him. One day, for reasons only she knew at the time, Sarah had stepped up and put an end to it, making sure that the jocks gave him space.
At first he’d been angry at her interference, not wanting someone like her to come to his defense. He couldn’t be sure what kind of game she’d been playing—if she was playing one. And despite how he treated her, and he had been downright cruel at times, she had continued to be nice to him until he finally let his guard down.
It hadn’t taken long before he realized she was different. Soon their unexpected friendship had turned into something more.
Hatred had turned to acceptance.
Acceptance had turned to attraction.
From the attraction bloomed a relationship that Niklaus never could have fathomed. From the moment she became his girlfriend, Sarah became his world.
He had wanted to show her that he could be more than just the ‘help’ as so many viewed him. Even after they graduated and she had gone off to Florida State, while he chose to stay back in their hometown, working backbreaking construction to help his mother around the house, their bond had never broken.
It was no secret Sarah’s family was far better off than Niklaus’—even if this was never voiced aloud—so instead, he gave her little things money couldn’t buy.
He had gone to see her every other weekend just because. And when he had made her a locket by hand, carefully working on each little detail until it was just right, she had cried after he gave it to her as if it was the best thing in the world.
But even if it wasn’t, she had made it feel that way.
Niklaus knew she was the girl he was going to marry, and knowing this, he wanted to make the proposal special. So for two years, he had saved every last spare penny, planning their trip to the one place she had always wanted to visit. He had barely slept in that time, working overtime to the point that his boss had to force him to go home.
It had all been worth it.
She skipped ahead of him, arms outstretched as she tried to catch the falling snow on her tongue. This was the happiest he had ever seen her.
And he had done that. He had put that smile on her face.
His hand drifted down to his pocket once more, feeling the indentation the ring box had made, he let the familiarity of it soothe him. Thoughts of how he would propose had plagued him all night, but he still hadn’t found the right moment to get down on one knee and just ask.
Sensing his gaze, Sarah turned back to look at him, her smile growing wider, blonde hair like a halo around her face, “How could this be torture? It’s beautiful out here.”
Yeah, but he was used to seventy-degree winter days, not the negatives that they had up north. Even wearing a Henley, a hoodie, and a leather jacket—one that she had bought for him because ‘it looked good on him’—he was still freezing.
He shrugged, still smiling. “You’re easily impressed. That’s all.”
“Oh, stop being so cynical, Niklaus. Breathe in this cold, refreshing air and enjoy the moment.”
She ended on a yelp as she went sliding on a patch of black ice, nearly colliding with the ground before he caught her, pulling her back against him. He laughed at her expression. “I’m enjoying you. That’s all that matters.”
Gifting him with the softest of smiles, she leaned up to kiss him, her lips like a brand on their own. It ended all too soon as she righted herself. Twining their fingers once more, they continued down the darkened street with little fear.
Looking around, she asked, “Do you even know where we are?”
Niklaus dug out the street map he’d picked up after they had left the metro station, figuring it would be a good idea to find their way back to it. Even with the muted glow of the street lamps, it was hard to make anything out.
“We can’t be far from the station now, right? We’ve been walking for a while,” she said looking around them. “Maybe we ca
n ask someone…” But there weren’t many people out at this time of the night.
“Let’s just call a cab. We can add that to our list of experiences—lost in the big city.”
Reaching the end of the block they were on, Niklaus dug through his pocket for his old, beat-up phone, hunting through his contacts for the phone number he had saved for the cab company they had taken from the airport. A woman answered on the fifth ring, and after giving her the street name they were standing under from the sign above them, he nodded at her answer and hung up.
“They’ll have somebody here in fifteen minutes.”
Sarah nodded at his answer, and when he noticed her slight shivers, he drew her back into his embrace, resting his chin on top of her head. She smelled of cinnamon and apples, probably from whatever holiday shampoo she was using.
“Hopefully you don’t freeze to death by then,” she whispered playfully, laughing when he tugged her hair.
Niklaus didn’t know how long they stood there, enjoying the silence of the night when he noticed the van pass them by. There wasn’t anything particularly notable about it, but this had been the third time he’d seen it pass by.
It was the logo of the clowns and bowling pins that stuck out to him.
He fucking hated clowns.
He didn’t mention this to Sarah right away, because while he was suspicious by nature, she liked to call him paranoid.
But it wasn’t paranoia. Niklaus just didn’t believe in coincidences.
Despite standing beneath the light, Niklaus didn’t like that they were out in the open. “Come on,” he urged her, scanning the street once more for any sign of the van, but it had already disappeared around another corner. “Let’s sit over here and get out of the snow.”
At least then they wouldn’t be in plain view.
Of course, she hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, so she dutifully followed his lead, oblivious to the sliver of anxiety that was steadily climbing up his spine. Before they could even make it a couple of steps, the van came screeching around the corner, the squeal of its tires growing louder as it sped towards them.
This time, Sarah noticed it, but Niklaus knew it was too late.
“Niklaus, why—”
He moved her behind him, even as he walked them backwards, watching the van screech to a halt, the side panel sliding open, two men in masks jumping out.
“Run,” he warned as he turned and pushed her forward, staying in place instead of following behind, wanting to give her a head start. She did what he asked without argument, taking off in the opposite direction, screaming for help.
Niklaus didn’t attempt to run, knowing that at the very least, they would have to get through him to get to her, and by the time they did, hopefully she would be long gone, or someone would have come around trying to see what the commotion was all about.
But…it almost felt like this wasn’t about robbing them as their attention seemed solely focused on him. From what he could tell, they had hardly looked in her direction.
When the one in front charged him, Niklaus swung out a fist, landing a solid punch to the man’s jaw that sent him flying back and cursing in a language Niklaus didn’t understand. The man recovered quickly enough, charging towards him like a bull, ramming his shoulder into Niklaus’ stomach, sending them both to the ground.
Niklaus had had enough practice fending off idiotic football players not to let this man get the best of him, but as he grappled with the man, he forgot all about the other one that was hovering nearby observing.
“Niklaus!”
Forgetting all about the two that were on him, Niklaus’ attention shot to Sarah as a gorilla of a man caught her, dragging her back to the idling van. He didn’t care what happened to him, but he couldn’t let her get hurt.
But just as he got free of the one that had taken him to the ground, the second came out of nowhere and struck him, sending him back to the ground, his vision blurring. He felt like he’d been hit by a cinderblock, his head bouncing off the concrete so hard he saw stars.
Niklaus was dazed, could almost hear Sarah yelling his name again, but before he could latch onto it, a shadowy figure loomed over him, and the last thing he saw before blackness stole him was a booted foot coming down at his face.
Chapter Two
Jolted awake by rough hands strapping him to a chair, Niklaus renewed his struggles, but there was hardly anything he could do to ward off what was happening now that his ankles were secured to the legs of the chairs with zip-ties, and his wrists were next. More than that, a headache pounded away in his head, the wound to the back of his skull throbbing in time.
He would have continued to fight if not for the soft whimpering across from him. He stilled immediately, jerking his head in every direction, trying to shake off the musty smelling black bag that covered his face.
It was only after his wrists were tied down did someone remove it.
Squinting from the sudden light hurting his eyes, he blinked repeatedly, waiting for his eyes to adjust as he searched the room for Sarah. As she came into focus, he almost wished he hadn’t.
She was bound, very much like he was, but while he could feel where his lips were cut, and knew from the tightness of his face that it too was bruised, seeing her this way made him ashamed that he hadn’t fought harder, protected her from this.
Tear tracks were stark against her tan cheeks, her eyes wide with fear. A cloth was tied around her mouth, preventing her from speaking, but everything she could have wanted to say was reflected in her face.
Why hadn’t he warned her sooner? Why hadn’t he told her not to wait for him, to save herself?
Yet, while regret weighed heavily on his heart, his attention was stolen by the men entering the room, joining the two that were already inside still wearing masks.
The latest arrivals didn’t bother with them. Trepidation filled Niklaus at what this might mean. He might not have known for sure, but he doubted that these men would allow them to see their faces if they weren’t planning to kill them.
Niklaus tried to make out their faces, hoping that some kind of recognition would hit him—he needed to understand why they had been targeted. His boss down at the construction site in Florida was not always on the right side of the law when it came to his business—not that anyone really cared since he was a pretty decent guy who got the job done—but Niklaus couldn’t imagine that he would be involved with these kind of men.
They seemed too…powerful.
One stood out amongst the others, wearing a long black coat, a suit of charcoal gray beneath it. His eyes were cold, lips turned down in a deep frown, and much like the other men, there was an air of menace that surrounded him. He was obviously the leader, radiating an authority that the others lacked.
“You did well,” he said.
Niklaus could only guess which of the two masked men he was speaking to, but he watched as the pair approached him, one a shade more eager than the other. This one ripped off his mask, his sweat-dampened hair sticking to his forehead, eyes feverish with a hunger that made Niklaus’ stomach turn.
“It was nothing.”
The other, and if Niklaus had to wager, the one that had gotten the best of him, remained off to the side, as if he wasn’t completely a part of this group, and yet was. He reached for his own mask, drawing it up over his face, and unlike the others, his hair wasn’t dark, nor were his eyes the same obsidian colors as most of the others. No, his hair was blond and slightly curly, reaching below his ears, and his eyes were a bright shade of blue.
There were so many emotions in the eyes of the men in this room, from impassiveness to downright excitement—but this one? His were empty.
There was nothing there, and Niklaus sensed if there was one person he should fear, it was him.
He looked like a man that didn’t care whether he live or died.
“Were you seen?”
“Nope,” said the eager one. “They were alone—didn’t even have
his guards on him.”
For a moment, the man looked doubtful. “How sure are you of this?”
While the eager one opened his mouth, ready to answer, the man turned to the blond instead, his brows raising as he awaited an answer. Niklaus didn’t miss the eager one losing his manic smile, or that a flash of irritation sparked in his eyes, but as quickly it had formed, it was gone again.
With his arms folded across his chest, the blond glanced over at Niklaus before returning his gaze to his boss. “They were alone. Surprising, considering who he is.”
Who he was?
Was he supposed to be alone?
Those words seemed to be enough for the man. Snapping his fingers, he gestured for another of his lackeys to wheel in a tray from across the room as he shed his coat and suit jacket, passing them off.
“I am Jetmir Besnik of the Besnik family, but I am sure you already know this.”
No, Niklaus had never heard of the man, or whatever family he was talking about, but he didn’t get the opportunity to tell him before the man was speaking again.
“You possess information that I need. If you tell me, I will release you and your lady friend here. If you do not, I will force you to tell me.” His gaze shifted to Sarah whose eyes widened in fear. “By any means necessary. Have you anything to say?”
Swallowing his fear, Niklaus’ eyes darted around the room. “I don’t know who you think I am, but if this is about money, I’ll give you everything I have. We—”
Jetmir sighed, shaking his head as though disappointed, but Niklaus was too confused to do anything more than protest, not even when Jetmir reached for a pair of knives sitting on the tray. Turning them over in his hands, he stepped forward, so close that Niklaus couldn’t help but breathe in the strong scent of his cologne.
Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1) Page 1