“Elora Coillette,” Calavera had said in his ear, her voice crackling over the phone. “That’s your buyer. I’ll send you an address for where to find her.”

Better words had never been spoken.

Once he had the name, it had been easy enough finding the woman that was behind Monte’s death.

A black widow, she was.

But Kyrnon didn’t work about this, not after reading about her business practices over the last couple of years. Whereas she enjoyed humiliating men at every opportunity, she cared more for money and how to acquire more. A fickle creature who cared for nothing more than monetary goods—it would be easy enough making a transaction.

He just had to offer what he did best.

It had taken no time at all for him to get a meeting with her, simply because of who he was. While his name might not have always been familiar, the jobs he pulled off were infamous.

As Kyrnon stepped off the elevator to a business office on Fifth Avenue, designed in shades of gray and white, he came to a stop as two burly men that looked rather trigger happy, put hands up, refusing to allow him in any further.

With a roll of his eyes, he stretched his arms out, giving them the opportunity to search his person for any weapon he might be carrying.

Besides his vest, he hadn’t brought anything along with him … except for a pencil.

Once, during a stretch in Germany, he had found himself in a pub on the outskirts of the little town he was in, and just happened to find his target inside. He hadn’t had anything on him, at least not in the traditional sense, but when an opportunity aros, he used what he had on hand … a pencil.

Anything could be a weapon in the right hands.

“State your purpose,” one said, narrowing his eyes on him.

“That’s a bit above your pay grade, eh? You’re not the man I should be talking to.”

“Then I suppose you mean to speak with me,” a feminine voice called from the glass doors.

She was as Kyrnon had expected. Dark hair, luminescent skin, and a body that oozed lust while smiling as though ready to kill anyone if the mood struck her. Attractive, but treacherous.

Her stance as the one in charge of this building came loud and clear as the men parted to let her by.

Once they finished searching him, they stepped back.

“Who are you?”

“Celt.”

“Irish,” she said almost wistfully, her gaze sweeping over him from head to toe. “I’ve always had a thing for Irishmen.”

He didn’t bother dignifying that with a response.

“My mystery caller, I presume. I feel like I know so much about you already, yet I never had a name. Curious.” Her heels clicked on the ornate floor as she circled him. “I once had a friend that contracted a Celt. Interesting name, I think. How about we finish this conversation in my office?”

She waved for him to follow behind her like he was one of her well-trained dogs, and while it rankled, Kyrnon did as he was bid.

“I have to admit, I’m quite a fan of your work,” she said once she was behind her desk and seated. “You’re one of the Kingmaker’s … how do I say … pets, right?”

Women like her liked to challenge men, just to see what all they could get away with before one snapped and they had an excuse to kill them.

It was a game for her.

But Kyrnon had once played someone else’s game, and that had taught him better than to have a go at chance.

Though he didn’t like the way she worded it, he still said, “I am, but that’s not why I’m here. I hear you’ve been looking for me.”

Her hand fluttered to her chest as amusement danced in her eyes. “I’m sorry? You called me, if you recall. What on earth would make you think I needed something from you?”

“L’amant Flétrie. You bought the fake.”

Very soon, anger was replacing that amusement. “And how would you know of this?”

“Because I took the original.”

Surprise flickered over her features at his daring. “Do you think I won’t kill you simply because you answer to the Kingmaker? I’d mail him your head if I was in the mood to get bloodstains on my floor.”

No. She wouldn’t.

He could hear the false promise behind her words, but because she thought he didn’t understand the score, she meant to intimidate him.

She wouldn’t be the first to try it, and she wouldn’t be the last.

“And how do you think he would respond should you do that?” They both knew the answer to that. “If you were going to kill me,” Kyrnon said easily, “I’d already be dead. Yet, we’re here having this conversation.”

“You’re mistaken,” she said as she came around her desk, leaning over him, wanting to remind him that she was the one in charge. “You’re breathing only because I would rather have you do something for me than to watch Donovan chop you into pieces. This is why you came to me, yes? So I will spare your life in exchange for something I might want more?”

“Aye. I’ll grant you a boon if you back off the painting.”

Her head tilted to the side as she considered his words. “Then I wager this isn’t just about you, is it? The artist, whoever it was that painted the forgery, you know who they are.”

“I know of everyone involved,” Kyrnon said, not giving anything else away.

“Interesting.”

There was an inviting note to her voice, meant to make him ask what she meant, and for the sake of time, he did. “Interesting?”

“If you truly were the one to steal my painting, that would mean you were at the auction—Gabriel was kind enough to clue me in as to when the original went missing,” she clarified when Kyrnon just stared at her. “You would have known about the fake, and only the artist would have been able to tell the difference between the two without having them examined.”

Now that she thought she was back in control, her smile reappeared. “And here you are, offering your services with all the conviction of a man putting his life on the line for the person he loves. I presume it’s a woman? Men. Such predictable, stupid men.”

“I care,” Kyrnon spoke up before she could go off on a tangent, “about my bottom line. If you continue to kill off my people, that means bad business for me. So, either you want me for a job, or you don’t, but either way, I’m walking out in thirty seconds.”

He didn’t bother counting, merely took a breath before he started backing toward the door.

“Very well.” Elora stood up a little straighter, eyeing him carefully. “Last year, Amanda Washington bought a mansion at auction in the California hills for well over sixteen-point-five million. No one thought anything of it until an underground safe of valuables was found. During the few days I spent with her husband, I asked that he give me the necklace he found inside it—he didn’t. Sadly, I had to make his wife into a widow because of that, but that’s not important now. I spent some time in Europe and forgot all about it, but who better to bring it all to me now than someone with your skill set? Inside the safe, you’ll find Snowflakes on the Wind. If you deliver it to me within thirty-six hours, I’ll call my men off.”

Kyrnon didn’t react to the name. While he didn’t know what Elora was asking for off the top of his head, he did remember hearing something about a wealthy heiress having bought something for that amount, whose husband had been found poisoned. The police had suspected the wife of it, but with no evidence, no charges were brought.

She had gone out of the spotlight then, living in seclusion in the Hills.

Easy enough target.

And if he called in a few favors from his team, they could get this done in no time.

“I’ll see it done.”

Elora smiled brightly, extending her hand. “Then we have a deal.”

Taking her hand, he did his best not to crush the delicate bones there when he squeezed, only releasing when she gave a wince of pain.

“Oh, and Celt?”

He had his back to her, heading for the elevators when she called out to him. Pausing, he glanced back.

“I do hope you get back in time before I find out where you’re hiding Amber, our mystery forger. You know what I’ll do to men, just imagine what I’ll do to her.”

---

“Is Kyrnon okay?” Amber asked when she got to his place and was greeted by Niklaus.

Unlike his twin brother’s tussled hair, Niklaus kept his tamer, though strands in the front were a little more manageable. When Kyrnon had left her phone with her, promising to call the first chance he got, she had accepted his word and believed that he would, but as the hours ticked by, she grew more nervous.

“Don’t worry for him, he can take care of himself.”

She didn’t doubt that, but she worried regardless. “Then why are you here?”

“Kyrnon,” he said this with a sardonic smile, as though he found the name amusing, “wanted me to babysit until he got here. He won’t be long.”

That had also been something Niklaus mentioned on the phone when he told her she would be coming here. While Kyrnon hadn’t minded her staying in the penthouse with Lauren and Mishca, he had preferred having her stay at his place since his was further off grid than theirs was.

“He was the one who trained me,” he said when she still didn’t look convinced. “Taught me everything I needed to know. Wouldn’t be here without him. Don’t tell him that though.”

On a whim, she asked, “How bad is this? He told you about everything, right?”

“I won’t lie to you and say shit is good because it’s not. When going up against unknown enemies, that makes the job more difficult, too many fucking variables that get in the way. But trust me when I say he’ll see this done for you.”

Niklaus dropped down on the couch, laying his head back against a pillow. “It’s what I would do. It’s what anyone fucking does when the person they love is in danger.”

“I don’t think …”

“You know his name,” Niklaus said suddenly. “That should tell you everything. I’ve known him for over seven years and I know fuck all about him besides his country of birth. It doesn’t matter who you meet, should someone ask for a name, you give them the one you were given the day they put those brands on our flesh.”

“Do your names really mean that much?” She couldn’t fathom the idea of that.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know Niklaus’ name, and Kyrnon had never hesitated in offering his to not just her, but her family as well.

But love, Niklaus had said, it would be different if what he said were true.

“I’ll tell you one thing I know for sure,” Niklaus said looking over at her. “I’ve never met a more paranoid bastard than Kyrnon. He doesn’t let anyone in this place. It may look unassuming, but any motherfucker that tries to get in won’t like the traps he has set in here. Trust me, should you need it, his War Room will convince you. You’re safe here.”

The elevator started going, not long before Kyrnon appeared, his gaze immediately seeking her out.

“We’ll take care of it,” Niklaus said standing, laying a hand on her shoulder. “No worries.”

She could only hope that was true.

Once he was out the door after a whispered conversation with Kyrnon, Amber remained where she stood. He didn’t hesitate in coming to her the moment he was able, helping her forget her worries.

At least for a while.

---

Maybe it was the streaks of lightning, or the thunder that felt like it shook the very foundation of the building woke Kyrnon, his tired gaze sweeping the other side of his bed where Amber was supposed to be, where she had been for hours tucked into his side without complaint, but she was absent, making him sit up.

He didn’t sleep for long bouts of time as it were, and even then, the slightest noise could wake him, but he hadn’t stirred.

Brows knitting in confusion, he slipped out of bed, his gaze sweeping his loft for any sign of her. She couldn’t have left, the minute they arrived, he had set the alarm, and the glowing red light near the lift told him it hadn’t been disarmed.

With that knowledge, his gaze shifted to the ceiling, as though he might have been able to see where she would be once he took the stairs up. The wonder in her eyes and the way they lit up the first time she had seen it, made him smile. Though his place was open to some, he never let them up there, it meant too much.

It was like a piece of himself that could only be understood if he explained the significance behind it. And from the beginning, he hadn’t hesitated in sharing himself with her, details that most, even those that had known him for years, didn’t know.

He didn’t mind showing her the bits of himself that he had closed off.

He wanted her to see him.

When he reached the top of the staircase, he could just see her profile under the warm glow of the moon. Dressed in what looked like nothing more than his flannel, she was consumed in the sketch she was making, her fingers already stained from the coals she was using.

She had to know she was no longer alone from the way she paused in a stroke of her wrist, but she didn’t look to him, not until he was at her side and she was finished.

There was so much reflected in those brown eyes of hers. Every thought. Every feeling. What all she hadn’t transcribed on paper was shown in her face, free for him to see.

He didn’t like being the worry that was in her eyes.

“It’s late,” he said when he was close enough to be heard over the pouring rain.

She smiled almost sadly. “I couldn’t sleep. It’s just … I’ve never …”

Amber had never been in a situation like this, Kyrnon knew she wanted to say. Despite her friendship with the Volkov family, the business dealings had never touched her, and she had never been a part of that life.

But through no fault of her own, she was thrust into it.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, you know that.” And that was a fact.

“But what if something happens to you?” she asked, that fear leaking through in her voice. “It’s my fault they …”

“Nonsense,” he cut her off before she could finish. “Had I not been assigned to take it back, they would not have come for you.”

Because they would have had the original … or at the very least, he should have taken both.

But, like he’d already said, he hadn’t thought Gabriel Monte was dumb enough to sell the forgery in the first place.

“But …”

“What’d I say to you earlier, hmm?”

She looked like she wanted to argue further, but at the look he shot her, her smile turned a little more genuine. “That you would take care of it.”

“I’m a man of my word. Now, come on.” He didn’t give her a chance to say anything before he was pulling her to her feet, lifting her up in his arms. “Time for bed.”

Amber laughed, clinging to him. “But I’m not tired.”

“Then let’s take care of that.”

---

As he carried her back downstairs, he didn’t stop in his bedroom like Amber had been expecting. Instead, they went into the kitchen, her confusion mounting as he opened the door to his pantry and set her on her feet.

She didn’t get a chance to ask what he was doing before he was showing her.

Shifting a few boxes around, he revealed a keypad, one that was almost identical to the one that opened the garage downstairs. Except, if it were possible, this one was a little more high tech than the other one.

First, he entered a code, a series of ten digits, then he pressed his thumb against the sensor, and finally, as a bright, red light danced for a moment, he had his eye scanned.

What.

The.

Fuck.

But she couldn’t marvel at this for too long before a hidden door was sliding open and he was guiding her inside. As they entered what she could now see was another elevator, she shook her head as she looked at him.

“Mercenary, my ass. You’re a spy.”

He laughed, a rich sound that made her smile. He explained, “Spies have a government to answer to, I don’t.”

“So how do you know what your job is, or your mission rather?”

Amber didn’t think he was going to answer, she could see the hesitation in his eyes as he rubbed at his beard, but ultimately he did.

“I work for an organization—we call it the Den. Most that do what I do are freelance, but those that work for the Den have a handler.”

“Does Niklaus work for the Den too?”

Kyrnon nodded. “We were recruited, trained, and sent out to do whatever was asked of us.”

That sounded rather … ominous.

“How long have you been doing this?”

“More than a decade.”

“More than?” But as she counted back the years in her head, trying to put the complicated pieces of his past together from what he had already told her, she realize something. “This was how you got out of that place, isn’t it? You became a mercenary.”

He nodded again, pressing a hand to the small of her back to guide her out of the elevator as the doors opened. “Z found me after the last round in my fight. Offered me freedom and revenge in exchange for a contract. I couldn’t say no to that.”

Knowing what she did about how he had suffered, Amber knew she would have made the same decision if she had been in his shoes.

As she readied to tell him just that, she finally took in the room they were standing in and promptly forgot all about what they were talking about. “You live above an armory?”

Now in this, Kyrnon looked more proud than she had ever seen him. “I call it the War Room.”

No kidding.

There were racks set up along the walls, every type of gun one could possibly get their hands on lining the rows, and it didn’t just stop at handguns and assault rifles, but there were grenades, a rocket launcher, and a rather extensive collection of knives.

“This is … wow.”

There were no words to adequately describe just how awesome and terrifying it was to see that many weapons.

And that only made up one wall.

On the opposite side, there were shelves built into the wall, each holding bundles of money in at least four different currencies. From the sheer amount there, there had be at least a few million.

“Cash is harder to keep track of,” Kyrnon explained though she had yet to ask.

Her eyes were still skirting over it all until she reached the end where she couldn’t help but laugh a little, earning a frown from him. “You have gold.”

He was still confused. “Aye, I do.”

When he still didn’t catch on to why she was amused, she asked, “Do you have a little pot around here too?”

Kyrnon’s head canted to the side in confusion as his lips formed the words, but then his eyes widened as he laughed. “Funny.”

“So this is what you’ve been hiding?” she asked, taking one last look around the room, going over to the table in the center of the room that nearly stretched wall to wall. “Any other secrets I should know about?”

His watch chimed a loud, excessive sound. “Nothing that I won’t answer in due time, but for now, I need to go.”

“Where are you going?” she asked as they walked back to the elevator.

“California.”

She was silent for a spell. “For how long?”

“Not even twenty-four hours. I’ll be back before you get a chance to miss me.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

Her words brought a smile to his face as he grabbed the black duffel bag that was sitting in the corner on their way out.

And as they were back up in the living room, he kissed her like it was the last time, like he wanted to convey just how he felt if only by using his lips on her own.

She felt it down to her bones.

But as she watched him walk out that door, she desperately hoped he would be walking back in them.

---

“Why in the hell does an heiress need a security team?” Red asked as they boarded the jet flying them to California.

Kyrnon had filled them in on everything he knew so far, handing over every bit of information Winter could find on Amanda Washington’s security team. If they had happened to be a team of civilians that thought they were the real thing, he would have thought nothing of them, but these particular men were of the same grade as Kyrnon, and he didn’t want to go in unprepared.

He didn’t think they was going to be a problem by any means—he was finding a way into that safe regardless of who stood in his way—but it would make his job a bit more complicated, and with time not on his side, he didn’t need the added complication.

Worse, trying to work out the schematics in his head, while simultaneously worrying about Elora’s men finding Amber was driving him mad. For once, he understood why people forgot themselves when it came to the people they loved. He needed to be focusing, putting one-hundred percent of his focus on the task at hand, yet worry ate at him.

“Whatever gold mine she’s sitting on is obviously worth it.”

“We’ve taken on worse odds,” Niklaus said from his spot on one end of the jet, tossing the files down. “Six is nothing.”

“And Skorpion is in town,” Calavera noted. “I already gave him a call.”

Skorpion.

Unlike the rest of them, he freelanced. Though his years before he came to the Den were relatively unknown, he had worked under Z for years, doing whatever was asked of him.

Until the day he just stopped.

No one, not even Calavera who was closest to him, knew why he stopped taking on contracts.

Some said he had a problem with authority.

Others believed it had something to do with his last job—one he never spoke of.

But whatever the reason, Skorpion had left it all behind, found a place on a beach in Los Angeles, and surfed his days away, only taking on the occasional job when he felt like it.

“Skorpion’s finicky.”

“But you know how he loves to fuck shit up,” Red added.

Skorpion wasn’t the man you called for undercover work, not at six and a half feet tall and at least a solid seventy-five pounds heavier than Kyrnon’s two-thirty.

He only came when there was damage to be done.

“Then we have nothing to worry about,” Kyrnon said.

There was no need to mention that there need not be any mistakes. He was already running low on time. Mistakes, as the Kingmaker had said, meant the difference between life and death.

The rest of the flight was spent in quiet contemplation, and before long, they were landing. The sun had already hidden behind the horizon, throwing off the bright shades of twilight, but as Kyrnon glanced out the small window as he strapped his vest into place, he didn’t see any sign of someone waiting at the end of the runway.

“Where is that big bastard?” Kyrnon asked Calavera as the plane finally rolled to a stop.

She gave him a look. “He’ll be here.”

Calavera was looking at him as though he were acting irrational, and maybe he was, but he didn’t know how not to react.

He just needed to see this done.

And sure enough, as they stepped off the plane, Kyrnon heard the thumping bass of music, muffled only slightly since the windows of the car it was playing in were rolled up, but grew louder as the car came to a stop and the driver opened his door.

Big wasn’t actually the right word to describe the man that was squinting at Calavera with a smile on his goateed face.

Fucking massive was better.

He palmed the top of Calavera’s head, dragging her closer to press his lips against the top of her head. “How’s my favorite girl?”

She smiled. “I’ll fill you in on the ride.”

Nodding once, he released his hold on her as he then looked at Kyrnon and Red in turn. “So, what’s the job?”

---

The street was silent, mostly deserted, and with the lack of proper lighting, they couldn’t risk getting any closer to the gated residence without alerting the team at the house to their presence.

Kyrnon was already short on time, the last thing he needed was to waste it dealing with a rival firm, but with the extensive collection of weaponry Skorpion had stashed in the trunk of his car, he at least had the fire power to match whatever they thought to bring.

“I’ve clocked at least three on the outside perimeter,” Red said, his voice quiet in the dead of night, but with the earpiece in his ear, Kyrnon could hear him clearly. Minutes earlier, Red had disappeared, finding a vantage point on a nearby rooftop where he could set up his rifle.

“This girl of yours,” Skorpion said, dragging his fingers through his hair as he pulled the strands into a ponytail, then strapped his vest on. “What’s she like?”

“Now’s not the time,” Kyrnon said shortly, snapping the clip to his M4 in place.

“This is cake,” Skorpion returned as he pulled his ski mask over his face.

That was true, and usually Kyrnon would have been the first to agree with him, but he was too focused on getting this done to entertain the question.

“She’s good people,” Red said over the coms.

“Focus,” Kyrnon said through gritted teeth, feeling like he was back at the compound, training him.

“I’m on a fucking roof. Lonely up here.”

“You—”

“Nice ass?” Skorpion asked, oblivious to Kyrnon’s darkening mood.

“Red, you answer that, you’re a dead man.” Pulling his mask down, Kyrnon readied him, but just before they hit the gate, he felt a smile of his own. “She has a great arse.”

“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.