“It’s not often you put your foot in your mouth, Nix. I thought they trained you better than that,” Aidra pondered aloud while Kit walked to his office after seeing Luna to her room.

Luna.

There weren’t many complications Kit faced that he couldn’t overcome, that was one of his specialities, but he could already see that she was going to be one.

After his blunder at dinner, he hadn’t expected Fang—one of The Wild Bunch—to find him, letting him know with an amused sort of smile that the girl had hopped over her balcony, and taken off.

She had to have known she wouldn’t get far, not with the tracker affixed to her leg.

“Where did you find her, exactly?” Aidra asked.

Tone clipped, Kit responded, “I didn’t. Tăcut did. She was nearly to the tree line when he saw her.”

“Do you think she was running?”

Even if she wanted to, there had been no point in trying, not when Uilleam had put a tracker on her, and he had guards around constantly. She had to have known she wouldn’t get very far, but Kit didn’t think she was trying to run.

She hadn’t fought when Tăcut caught her, nor did she fight him in coming back into the house.

Luna had needed a moment, he understood that all too well.

Back in Wales, living under the hospitality of a tyrant, Kit had longed for quiet moments where he could get lost in his own thoughts without worry that his time was limited before someone came to hurt him.

Sometimes, those moments had been the worst, especially when that hope for it was crushed the moment he heard excited voices outside his bedroom.

There were still times now that he had to go off on his own to remind himself of who he was rather than who he’d been.

Sometimes, those were the moments he lived for.

“She wouldn’t have gotten far if she was,” he said.

Never mind that he had enough security out there to man a small army, but those woods were treacherous, and she hadn't even worn shoes.

“Still, you haven't told me who the girl is.”

“Because even I’m not sure who she is.”

Or her purpose.

His conversation with Uilleam before his brother had left as quickly as he’d come hadn’t shed much light on the girl’s origins either.

---

“I’ve known for the last twenty-two years of my life that your actions are reckless and premature, but I would never think that you would let hubris get you killed. What on earth has possessed you to make an enemy of Lawrence Kendall?”

The second Aidra had told him about the eldest Kendall, Kit had made a few calls, wanting to verify the information before he confronted his brother about it.

It had only taken one phone call to tell him that his brother was making moves he shouldn’t, but that was nothing new. Uilleam always made a habit of acting before he thought it through.

“An enemy?” Uilleam questioned with a shake of his head. “He came to me. Apologies that I don’t recount my every move with you, brother. Should I call you when I wipe my ass as well?”

Ignoring his last comment, Kit asked, “And the girl? What is she here for?”

Uilleam offered a smile. “For the same reason that the rest of the broken souls are brought to my compound.”

“You mean to make her into a mercenary? Though your depravity doesn’t surprise me, that still doesn’t explain why she’s here.”

Circling around his desk, Kit grabbed a pair of tumblers, then a bottle of Scotch he kept in his desk, along with another of vodka—Uilleam had never been able to stomach brown liquors.

“Zachariah is busy at the moment working with another recruit—a Russian. Pathetic little thing really, but he shows promise. Besides, he has this new rule where they need to be of a certain age—men and their ridiculous morals.”

Kit could only imagine.

“And,” Uilleam went on as he picked up his glass, examining the liquid as though he thought Kit might have poisoned it. “Considering where she’s been, I thought it might be better if she could focus on her training rather than the scores of men at the compound.”

“You care about her feelings?” Kit asked. “You?”

“I care about my investment.”

“An investment you made … today? You decided to just buy her?”

Uilleam shrugged. “He happened to be holding an auction—who would I be if I didn’t partake? It was the spirit of the evening.”

“It wasn’t that simple,” Kit said folding his arms across his chest. “It never is with you.”

“No, I’m far too clever for that.”

“Then my question remains the same—why have you brought her here?”

Uilleam’s gaze narrowed as he contemplated what he would say next. “Let’s call it a test run. I want you to train her.”

Kit thought of the girl he had seen in the hallway. She was tall, willowy, with curves he knew would fill out once she was eating properly. There had been fear in her gaze when he spoke to her—even in the way she jolted when he touched her, but there had also been a spark of daring there that caught his attention.

“You misunderstand,” Uilleam said as the silence stretched between them. “If I thought you were incapable of seeing this done, I wouldn’t have come to you in the first place—waste of both our times, no?”

“If I am to do this, I’m not going to be quick about it,” Kit said. “She won’t be ready for some time—six months at a minimum.”

“Not to worry,” Uilleam said with a shrug. “It’s not an election year.”

Kit frowned, though he didn’t question him—his brother was known for saying odd things that only he understood. “What game are you playing at?”

“Do I have your agreement that you’ll train her?”

“You do.”

“Very well.” Uilleam got to his feet, sitting his untouched drink on the desk. “And, the game? It’s not one that concerns you presently.”

“Not everyone enjoys the games you play, Uilleam.”

Uilleam tsked. “Yet so many profit off of them.”

Kit nearly rolled his eyes. “Of course.” As he was leaving the room, Kit called, “It doesn’t sound like you’re giving me much of a choice.”

There was a smile in Uilleam’s voice as he said, “We always have choices, brother—the question is whether or not you’ll pick the right one.”

It was never easy to know which side was right when it came to his brother, and Kit had long since stopped wanting to guess.

---

Kit didn’t particularly like mercenaries—too disloyal and dishonest—but his brother had had the bright idea to form a team of them, an elite group that, despite their nature, would perform tasks as well as any other hit squad in the world. As only Uilleam could do, he had forced their loyalty to him by presenting them with something they wanted.

He understood the need to protect himself, and to have a team that was willing to do his dirty work—that was why he had The Wild Bunch—but despite his feelings on mercenaries, he had very little say in how Uilleam conducted his business—though even if they were closer, he doubted Uilleam would listen to reason.

He never had in the past.

Besides, Kit had grown rather used to his brother’s games since they were only a slightly milder version of those their father used to play—games meant to sharpen their minds and hone their skills.

While he had turned in one direction, using everything he had learned to become a member of a firm of assassins, and then ultimately using those contacts to venture into different practices, his brother had gone in a different direction entirely.

Their father had expected them to follow blindly in his footsteps, and despite their thoughts to the contrary, they had in many ways.

He had also wanted them to go against one another, constantly battling to see who would end up on top.

But Kit had wanted none of that.

As long as their business dealings never intersected, Kit didn’t care about the games Uilleam liked to play.

There was just something about this girl, however … something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“A mercenary, then?” Aidra asked as they stopped at the foot of the stairs, her voice drawing him from his thoughts. “D’you truly believe you can train her to be one? Despite what The Kingmaker seems to believe, not everyone is cut out for this life.”

So many had tried and failed. Some couldn’t handle the rigorous training required—others couldn’t handle the tasks they were assigned, and the consequences of what they would be asked to do.

Either way, those that didn’t conform were cast out.

“And considering what she’s already suffered,” Aidra went on, “I can’t imagine that she’ll take well to having a man—even if it is you—training her as closely as needed.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kit said. “She can either accept what’s been offered, or …”

He trailed off, knowing he didn’t need to finish the thought for Aidra to understand.

They both knew what would happen if Luna didn’t do as Uilleam expected.

She would die.