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 lips, 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 floor, 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.

“Kyrnon,” she said gently, as though he were the one that had been taken and she were trying to talk him down, “I’m fine.”

It didn’t matter how many times she told him that, and it had been numerous since he had gotten her in the back of his car, racing away from the bloody scene that they left behind, he wasn’t ready to believe that.

He had fucked up.

Because of him, she had been taken, and while there were only a few cuts and slight bruising on her wrists, the sight of them was enough to make his mounting frustration worse.

He had no one to blame but himself.

Kyrnon was torn from his thoughts when Amber pulled away from him, forcing him to finally look at her and actually acknowledge what she was saying.

“You could have been killed.”

“But I wasn’t.”

“You were—”

“Fine,” she stressed. “I was fine, and I’m fine now.”

Gently picking up her hands, he looked down at her palms. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

There was a difference between knowing what he did, and becoming a target because of it.

“It wasn’t your fault, Kyrnon,” she said softly, so soft that he almost didn’t hear her. “And I’m not going to freak out because of what happened.”

Kyrnon wasn’t so sure about that.

There were just some things one couldn’t help—and he knew from experience that witnessing the murders they had both been subjected to was not easy to swallow. He had seen a lot of things in his time as a mercenary, and even before it, but this … even he hadn’t fully comprehended what the Kingmaker had done.

She wasn’t of this life, and this, if he were being honest, wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been.

They were both lucky in that regard.

“I would understand if you did,” Kyrnon said.

She looked unsure as she fiddled with her hands in her lap. “The Kingmaker …”

Kyrnon had wondered when she would bring him up. “He’s my handler, and someone I hope you never have to cross paths with again.”

“So … this is your boss?”

And the man that currently held his debt.

The Kingmaker, for whatever reason, hadn’t hesitated in accepting an unnamed favor in exchange for his interference. Kyrnon may not have hesitated in agreeing to whatever the Kingmaker wanted, thinking back on it now, he didn’t like it.

There was nothing good about owing a man a debt, especially when one didn’t know what that debt would ultimately be. It could be as simple as running another job, or as complicated as performing a hit on a government official.

With the Kingmaker, there was no guarantee.

But that was a worry for another day. And if he were honest, he would agree to do it again.

“He is.”

“Some boss.” Amber was quiet a moment before asking, “Are we going back to your loft?”

He had brought her to another of his safe houses, this one outside of the city and right in the middle of a residential neighborhood where no one was the wiser that there were mercenaries that crashed there.

“Not right now.”

And not until he went over his security again.

He also needed to find out who gave up his safe house. The loft wasn’t listed anywhere. He was always careful to cover his tracks, so someone that knew its location had given it to Elora.

Kyrnon would find out who soon enough.

Reaching for him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight as she buried her face in his chest. “Thank you for saving me.”

Resting his chin on top of her head, he weaved his fingers in her hair, holding her close. “Don’t thank me for that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

He tilted her head up to better see her face. “Maybe so, but I only care whether or not you’ll stay.”

Amber pecked his lips. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course you do. What’s not to love?” He caught her hand as she attempted to hit him, stealing a kiss. “And I love you, Amber.”

“I guess that means you’re stuck with me.”

And he would have it no other way.

---

“In other news, two weeks have passed since the burglary at the Metropolitan Museum of Art where a priceless Vermeer painting was stolen. Said to be worth over four million dollars, the FBI is offering a reward for any information about the theft …”

Amber hardly paid attention to the news report as she stared at the duffel bags on Kyrnon’s bed. Ever since he suddenly announced to her that they would be taking a vacation, she had been rather giddy at the prospect, glad to be escaping New York for a while.

It had only taken Kyrnon a day after the incident with Elora to ask her to move in with him. She didn’t even get the chance to agree before he was packing up her place and bringing it all over to his place.

Not that she had minded.

His loft had always felt like home.

And once she had agreed to stay with him, he didn’t hide his work like he’d done before. More than once she had watched as he, and sometimes someone else, disappeared down into the War Room. But no matter what she saw, she never knew the details, and no matter how she asked, he didn’t divulge anything.

For the last week, whatever he had been working on had taken him away to a nameless country, and when he got back, there was a change in him, and for the first time she saw what his occupation could do to him.

After a long night spent trying to work out his frustration with her, he had finally announced the next morning that they were taking the trip to Ireland.

Except, while she had busied packing for it, he had been in and out of the place, but not adding a single piece of clothing to the luggage.

Finally figuring that it was up to her to do it, she grabbed some clothes for him as well and tossed them in. It was hard packing, especially when she had no clue exactly where in Ireland they were going, but she made it work.

When she heard a door slam, she yelled, “Were you planning on packing anything, or running around naked?”

“Come on out,” he called back, ignoring her question entirely.

“What are—” She cut off when she saw what he was standing beside with the stupidest grin on his face. “You didn’t …”

“Oh, don’t tell me you don’t like it.”

She should have known that he would do something like this, especially when she had told him how excited she had been when the Vermeer painting had gone on loan to the gallery.

“I’m not sure if these things are for me or you,” she said, still in awe as she came closer to the painting.

Kyrnon wasn’t shy about giving gifts, always having something new for her every time he was gone for any extended period of time. Sometimes, they were things he bought, other times they were items he boosted from underground places that specialized in glittering baubles … those she only brought out on special occasions.

But this …

This was bigger than anything he had brought before it.

And undoubtedly, much harder for him to get his hands on.

“If you don’t like it,” he went on, “I can take it back.”

Return the painting that he had taken in the first place? “I’m not saying I don’t like it.”

“Are you worried it’ll be found?” Kyrnon asked as he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her further into his hold. “Because you shouldn’t. Another will replace it soon enough. All’s grand, lovie.”

There was no point in arguing it with him. Besides, this was just another way that he said ‘I love you.’

“I love you, Kyrnon.”

He smiled slow and steady a moment before he kissed her lips.

A promise, and and an answer.