Leaving Kit’s château a second time, Luna didn’t feel the same wonder as she had the first time when they had gone off to Europe for her test run.

It could have been that she was now used to the luxuries money afforded Kit, or it could have been because she knew by the end of the night, the man who was responsible for nearly every bad memory she possessed would be dead.

Luna poured over every inch of the file she’d been given, memorizing facts that she was sure weren’t relevant to the task she was going to perform.

She didn’t need to know Lawrence’s birthday to know that he deserved a stab wound to the heart.

She didn’t need to know that Lawrence had strangled his childhood pet to death with his bare hands—though that would explain a lot.

The only thing she cared about was the schematics of the building she would be entering, complete with exit routes mapped out, and the role she was meant to play.

It was simple really …

She would dress the part, as any other guest at the masquerade party would, and then she would lure Lawrence away where she would then remove her gun with the silencer affixed to the end and put a bullet in his head.

She would be out in a matter of minutes.

He would be reduced to nothing in a matter of minutes.

By the time they landed in San Diego, Luna was ready.

This time, as she showered and readied herself in the penthouse suite, , the girl staring back at her in the mirror didn’t surprise her. She was proud of who she saw.

Now, she possessed the confidence that had been sorely lacking over the years.

Kit had disappeared into the walk-in closet to change, selecting a navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt beneath.

She didn’t have to ask whether he liked what she was wearing—she could see it reflected in his gaze. In that unguarded moment, the languid heat in his gaze revealed everything.

Lust … such a dark, heady emotion. And when it was reflected in his eyes, she felt it all the way down to her bones.

Not once had she ever responded to it in another’s eyes—the sight of it usually sickened her. But on Kit, she felt it in return.

Sometimes, she forgot how much taller he was, the way she had to actually crane her neck back to see his face when he was close.

Or just how much bigger he seemed.

All that muscle packed beneath a tailored suit.

Neither spoke as each studied the other.

As his gaze drifted over her skin-tight dress and back up again, he only said one word. “Soon.”

A promise … and a threat.

She couldn’t wait.

Luna noticed then that he was carrying a silver case, one that he set on the bed and gestured for her to open.

Curious, she clicked the locks, watching them spring free before pushing the top open.

Knives, crafted from heavy silver lay in the case. They were exquisite, with skull detailing around the handles. At this point, she was so familiar with knives, she could appreciate the craftsmanship.

Luna didn’t think twice before she was plucking one from the case, familiarizing herself with the weight.

“They’re yours,” Kit said with a nod of his head. “Should you need them.”

Glancing down at her dress, Luna frowned and asked, “Where would I keep them?”

With deft fingers, Kit held up a holster, and she only had a moment to wonder where it went before he was kneeling in front of her, strapping the thing to her thigh and placing the knives inside of it, his touch barely lingering though he left goosebumps in his wake. It was just hidden beneath the hem of her dress, and while no one else would see it, she felt secure in the knowledge that it was there.

“I’ll be around should you need me,” he said as he got back to his feet, “but this is your op. I'm not meant to interfere.”

“I understand.”

“Regardless,” he said stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

She believed him, with every fiber of her being.

“One last thing, however.”

She watched as he retrieved another case, this one slimmer and more delicate. When he opened it, revealing the gold jewelry inside, she chanced a look up at him, but his expression was unreadable.

It was a necklace, but not like any Luna had ever seen before.

It wasn’t until he was slipping it out of its holding and unscrewing the clasp at the back of it did she realize that the metal didn’t hang freely, but rather wrapped snugly around the column of her throat.

Luna was struck mute as his fingers drifted back around, making a shiver work through her as he gifted her with a dark smile.

“I could tell you that this will work in your favor, that Lawrence Kendall notoriously covets what isn’t his, but that’s not why I want you to wear this.”

She didn’t understand what he meant, not completely. Even so, she asked, “Then why did you want me to have it?”

“Because I wanted there to be no confusion.”

“As to what?”

“As to who you belong to.” He punctuated the words with a quick, but lingering kiss on her lips.

Oh, but every part of her melted at his words.

It wasn’t too much longer when they were leaving, and before she knew it, they’d parked outside the private residence where Lawrence was holding his party.

“Careful,” Kit said with one last squeeze of his hand before she was exiting the car, starting up the pathway to the front entrance.

Luna didn’t notice, not until she was well enough inside and had a very good look at the others in attendance, that unlike the vast majority of the people there, her mask was far more elaborate. Most wore little scraps of lace that were more for aesthetic as opposed to concealment like hers.

It was more like a headdress she thought, with feathers that arced back over her hair.

Lavish parties had always seemed so exciting from the outside looking in, and she didn’t doubt that had she not known the person behind this one, she might have thought it amazing.

The decor was decadent, the wait staff trotting around with trays laden with food. It was almost like stepping into a dream.

Or a nightmare.

Perching on the edge of the bar stool, Luna looked out toward the floor, scanning what little the masks didn’t hide as she tried to find Lawrence in the crowd.

She had almost given up, thinking that he was probably in a back room and would have to wait until he reappeared, when she caught a glimpse of him.

He was hard to miss.

He didn’t come with the sudden recognition that filled her with butterflies—like with Kit—but rather revulsion, her lips turning down into a frown with hated remembrance of him.

It also didn’t take long for him to catch her staring at him, his gaze dropping to the heels she wore, and up to the choker around her neck, but he didn’t bother to venture any higher than that.

But she smiled all the same, playing the part expected of her.

He was already whispering to the guard that stood at his side before she had even bothered angling her body in his direction, passing off his drink as well.

As he started in her direction, Luna swiveled on her bar stool, watching his approach in the reflection of the liquor bottles behind the bar.

Adjusting in her seat, there was something comforting about the feel of the knives strapped to her thigh—another reassurance that tonight wouldn’t end as so many others had.

She could already imagine plunging one into his neck, but timing, Kit had drilled into her head, was everything.

So no matter how ready she was to end Lawrence’s life, she refrained.

It was only moments later that she felt a hand on the small of her back, the unease she felt growing as his hand slid down until it rested along the curve of her hip as he circled around to her front.

The fact that she had yet to forcibly remove his hand from off her was a testament to her newfound control.

“A succubus,” he murmured, looking down the front of her dress, as though he had any right.

Never mind the man was a pig, his arrogance was offensive.

Instinctively, Luna reached up with careful fingers to ensure her mask was still in place, and for the first time, she thought he was actually looking at her face, and not her body.

There was a curious glint in his gaze, like the wheels of his brain were turning, but she needed to ensure they didn’t catch up too fast.

That glint vanished when she smiled, brushing the shorter strands of his brown hair with her fingers.

Then, his gaze dropped right back to her breasts and the way they nearly spilled out the cups of her dress.

Easily distractible.

“And to think I was going to leave early,” Lawrence said with a click of his tongue. “My mistake.”

He lifted a hand, but instead of groping her as she anticipated, he touched a finger to the gold around her neck, pressing the pad of it against one of the sharpened spikes.

“Who do you belong to?”

She remembered Kit’s half-smile as he whispered words that made her want to kneel at his feet. He had known exactly what he was doing when he put it on her.

Unbidden, her gaze searched the floor of the house, hoping to spot … there he was, looking every bit as foreboding as he meant to.

Just the sight of him there was enough ease any worry she had.

Noticing where her stare had gone—though he didn’t seem to recognize Kit—Lawrence stepped in front of her, blocking her view. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private,” he suggested with a gesture of his hand, his smile curling slow and mocking as though he meant to challenge her claim.

Luna risked one more glance in Kit’s direction. He still watched them, a peculiar look on his face, but when he caught Luna’s gaze, he tipped his glass in her direction.

Her cue.

Sliding off the bar stool, Luna straightened the front of her dress, mindful of Lawrence’s eyes on her. The thumping bass of the sound system faded as they started down a private hallway toward a room off to the right in the hall.

It wasn’t a bedroom they entered, rather an office that was nearly as big as one. Luna didn’t pay much attention to the decor of the space, only took in the window that was closed with the shades drawn, and the position of the desk in relation to the door.

Venturing further into the room, she stopped at the desk, leaning back against it as she rested her hands on either side of her.

His gaze dropped to her breasts, hunger reflecting there before he finally dropped it even lower, lingering on her legs.

Not once did he bother to actually look at her, and she was thankful, because had he, she was sure he would recognize her.

He shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it aside as he came toward her, and by the time he was standing directly in front of her, her spine had to be made of steel with how straight she was standing.

She imagined he was Kit.

That was the only way she could stomach feeling his hand drift down her stomach, rushing to the hem of her dress. For once, there was no nausea churning at the feel of him.

But there was no fury either.

There was nothing because, for once, by the end of this night, it would be his turn to be the victim.

Before he could get a hold of her dress, however, she grabbed his wrist, not hard enough to scare him away, but just enough that he looked at her eyes in surprise.

“Get on your knees,” she said, releasing him as she placed her hand back on the desk.

How many times had he uttered those words?

How many times had she been forced to do his bidding though she had wanted to do anything but?

Now, it was his turn, and as she watched him sink down, she felt a thrill at the flare of temper in his eyes. He would make her answer for this, she knew.

“I’m not one to follow commands,” Lawrence said with a bit of an edge to his voice, “but I’m willing to make an exception for you.”

Removing her heels, Luna circled him until she was at his back. Then, she finally removed her mask and opened the clutch she carried, removing the Beretta from inside it.

“Will you do something else for me?” she asked sweetly, running her fingers up the curve of his shoulder and through his curling blonde hair. The moment she felt him relax, she fisted her hand hard enough to make him hiss out a curse before pressing the barrel of her gun to the side of his head. “Tell me where Cat is and I won’t kill you.”

That was a lie—her job was to kill him after all, and she would gladly do as she’d been instructed … but only after.

He was confused a moment, jerking his head around to try to see her face, but a mirror hung on the other side of the room, and as she forced him to his feet, he saw who she was all too clearly.

“Luna?” There was genuine surprise in his voice before he masked it with an arrogant smile. “You couldn’t stay away, could you?”

Luna wasn’t fazed. “Where is she?”

“I’ve missed you,” Lawrence went on, as though he didn’t feel any fear, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

Instead of feeding into his game, she cocked the hammer back, and could almost hear him swallow as the sound echoed between them.

“I guess The Kingmaker found a use for you, after all. In this, I assume, you’re good at doing what you’re told.”

Luna didn’t respond.

“Oh, but she was a sad little thing once you were gone. After all, I had to find someone new to keep my interest. No one could hold a candle to you, I’m afraid. Not even your precious Cat, though she has been of good use.”

Her grip on the gun tightened, but she was careful, very careful, not to react to his goading.

“I won’t ask a second time.”

“You’ll never be anything more than a whore,” Lawrence spat at her. “The only difference is now you’re a whore with a gun.”

Luna struck without warning, sending the butt of the gun into Lawrence’s face, feeling the satisfying crunch of cartilage.

Now, it was her turn to smile. “That makes all the difference in the world.”

Barely catching himself with his hands, his grunt of pain masked by mocking laughter. Looking back at her with hate-filled eyes, he said, “By the end of this eve, I’m going to fuck you bloody.”

Aiming her gun lower, “The first one will go in your cock.”

“Fine,” he said, a bit too agreeably. “I’ll take you to her.”

Lawrence struggled to his feet, holding his hands out when she raised the gun a little higher, but he didn't try anything. Not yet. Instead, he pushed a rolling bookcase out of the way, revealing a door behind it.

He didn’t hesitate to enter, bright light spilling out, but Luna was a bit more hesitant as she followed, not sure what to expect.

But what she found …

Now the nausea returned, bile clawing its way up her throat.

She couldn’t help but notice the smell first—the sharp tang of blood mixed with the foul odor of someone soiling themselves—but once she found the source of it, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

There was a woman tied up with intricate ropes, binding her limbs to her body, hooks pierced so deeply into her skin that purpling bruises outlined them, and the rope twining between them all kept her suspended in the air.

Not a single inch of her was bare of bruises or cuts or dried blood.

And though it had been a year, and even as her hair had been crudely shaven, Luna could tell it was Cat hanging from the ceiling.

Shock had settled over her, but she was snapped back to the present as Lawrence laughed, the sound a bit manic.

“She was a masterpiece,” he said almost reverently, as though he expected her to take as much enjoyment in this as he did.

He was fucking sick.

Looking in his direction, seeing the satisfaction that oozed out of him, caused the first pinpricks of red spotted her vision.

Tossing the gun away, she didn’t watch it clatter to the floor, sliding across until it was nearly on the other side of the room, but Lawrence did. He was practically calculating the time it would take him to get it before she did.

She only watched him.

“Do you know why I like knives?” Luna asked, drawing in a deep breath as she pulled one of the blades gifted to her from Uilleam free and flipping it open with a quick twist of her fingers. “It’s harder to kill with them.”

---

Kit hated the plan the moment he’d heard it.

He understood the need for it—men like Lawrence were easily panicked and should he have arrived with Luna, the man would have been less likely to go off with her alone.

Lawrence had to make sure that his future prey wouldn’t be escaping him as opposed to one that might have a significant other looking for them.

No, every part of Kit understood the reasoning—even knew that Luna could handle herself.

It was that fucking dress.

A dress she didn’t need to be wearing outside the privacy of his bedroom. Yet, there she went, hips swaying in that natural way of hers that had his cock hard and his need for her pounding away in his head.

But beyond his desire for her, he was more concerned with how well she would process the events of the night.

Aidra had already shaken her head at him earlier, saying, “She’s distracted you,” before they had even left the penthouse. Kit would be the first to admit that he was distracted, but not enough that it compromised what he knew needed to be done.

But what a lovely distraction she was.

He didn’t think there was anyone that captivated him as much as Luna did.

“I don’t see why you’re so worried,” Aidra said glancing at him. “If I recall, you sent me to take out a Columbian drug lord. Alone.”

“If I recall, you nearly died in the attempt, and I decided it was best to avoid unnecessary hindrances. This assignment, as personal as it is, is already enough of a challenge for even the most experienced.”

Aidra was silent a moment before she said, “She’ll never walk if you only let her crawl.”

Kit glanced at his watch again. “You’re missing the point.”

“And you’re making excuses,” Aidra returned.

“You don’t think I made a mistake in pushing you so far so soon?”

“If you hadn’t, would we be here? All I’m saying is give her a chance. Besides, you won’t always be there to save her. Learning to stand on your own is a part of one’s growth.”

Instead of responding, Kit glanced down at his watch. Fifteen minutes had already passed sinceLawrence escorted her down the hall. If she were to follow his instructions to the letter, she would be coming out within the next five.

But there was something that wasn’t settling well with him—and his instincts had never been wrong before.

Except, Aidra was right.

He couldn’t step in unless absolutely necessary—not if Luna expected to make it out alive. He could never guarantee, no matter how much he wanted to, that he would be there to help her out of a bind.

But after these five minutes wound down, he was going in whether Aidra liked it or not. For this first assignment, he would make an exception.

Each one of those minutes passed with agonizing slowness, and by the time the fourth arrived without any sign of Luna, he set his untouched drink on the bar and started across the floor.

“You have two minutes, Nix,” Aidra called after him, the familiar warning ringing in his head.

It was a lesson he had drilled into many heads during his bout at the firm. The deviation of two minutes from the scheduled extraction time was the longest he would permit for others. And should they not make it out in time, then they were burned and left to get out on their own.

If he and Luna weren't back in the required time, Aidra was out the door—though after a distraction, Kit was sure.

For now …

Kit, very carefully, snuck up behind one of the guards that had trailed Luna and Lawrence to the empty hallway. When he was sure no one else was standing watch, he struck, snapping the man’s neck with one brutal twist of his hands.

With his phone, he opened a covert app on his home screen, sifting through other contacts before he got to the one he needed. In seconds, a red icon glowed on his screen before it grew smaller as it pinpointed Luna’s location.

The collar he had given her wasn’t just for him—there was also a tracking chip embedded in the metal.

It didn’t take more than thirty seconds before he was in the private study, his gun now in hand, as he followed the sniffles he heard coming from the other side of the room.

What he found as he stepped into the hidden room …

For years, he had seen the worst life had to offer. The blood of children, lives lost in the quest for power and fame, but it was nothing compared to the sight of Luna on her knees, cradling the broken and bruised body of a woman he could only guess was the girl she often talked about.

Blood was everywhere, her skin and dress saturated in it. The metallic odor assaulted his nose even as he scanned her for the source of it all.

But besides a number of shallow cuts and newly forming bruises, there was nothing about her appearance that spoke of this much bloodshed.

At least until he got to the pathetic excuse of a man that was left of Lawrence Kendall. His eyes remained wide and unblinking, fixed on a distant spot on the wall—or had it been Luna that was his final sight?

She had made good use of the knives with the sheer number of stab wounds Kit could make out along the man's front. And one curious glance down at his open fly had him quickly looking away—she’d castrated him.

“Luna—”

She flinched, like her own name was hard to hear, but she didn’t release the hold she had on the girl, nor did she turn to look at him. “I should have cut her down sooner.”

Kit noticed then, the hooks in the girl’s back, and one glance up showed him exactly what Luna had meant.

But even from his vantage point, he could see that the girl was no longer breathing—a blessing, undoubtedly. She was sickly thin, with bruises, and her hair shorn. This girl had suffered, and at the hands of someone like Lawrence, it hadn’t ended anytime soon.

“Luna,” Kit called again, not bothering to look at his watch—it was well beyond time to go.

Never mind that the girl, though he knew she was close to her, wasn’t part of the job.

“Fifteen seconds,” she responded back, oddly.

“I don’t—”

“Now twelve,” she said, “before we’re meant to be at the door. I didn’t forget this was still an assignment.”

The way she said that, with such hurt in her voice made him wish he could spare her this pain. More than anything, he wished he could take it from her.

After a shaky breath, she looked at him with watery eyes, “Do we have to leave her here?”

He knew what she wanted him to say—she didn’t bother trying to hide that. And the almost clinical side of him knew that leaving her there would be a better course of action, but the other side of him that was affected by her thought she had suffered enough for one day.

But it wasn’t what he felt for her personally that mattered. “We need to go.”

“We could take her with us, and I—”

“Now, Luna.”

She wanted to argue, protest further, but as she opened her mouth to do just that, shuffling back in the office had Kit palming his gun.

“Boss? Is everything—”

The second he cleared the entryway, Kit plugged two bullets into his chest, then one final one in his head.

They were out of time.

Starting across the floor, he grabbed Luna's arm, intending to drag her out if he had to, but she snatched her arm free, muttering words he couldn’t hear—though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have liked what she said—then looked back at her friend.

She shook her head, whispering softly as she gingerly laid the girl back down, then moved to her feet. She barely spared Lawrence a glance as she went over to his body and jerked out the knives she’d left embedded in him out.

Luna left the room without waiting for him.

Calavera, he though staring after her.

Day of the dead.

Aidra was waiting by the door near the back exit, her gaze intense and scrutinizing as she took them in. Kit knew their time had been up, but Aidra had remained—it seemed everyone was breaking the rules.

On the drive back to the penthouse, Luna never spoke a word.

---

He was talking to Aidra, but Luna wasn’t listening—nor did she particularly care.

She wasn’t sure at what point her sadness at Cat’s fate had shifted to anger, but once it hit her, she welcomed it—anything but the cloaking sadness that threatened to tear her up.

The second the doors opened and she could walk inside, Luna didn’t hesitate in stopping in the kitchen, bending down to the liquor cabinet and grabbing the first bottle she saw.

She didn’t bother looking at the label, nor did she particularly care what kind it was, she just wanted something she knew would take the pain away.

Luna wasn’t thinking about the fact that she and Kit were sharing a room, or that all of her things were tucked away inside of it. Instead, she headed for one of the spare rooms he’d told her about, closing and locking the door before she headed into the bathroom where she ran a bath.

Screwing the cap off the bottle, she tipped it to her lips, drinking down the burning liquid without hesitation. It seared her throat before settling into her stomach, but as the pleasant warmth began to spread, she didn’t think about that.

Slowly, she wasn’t thinking about anything at all.

Despite her earlier intentions as she sunk into the bath, she let the water burn away the rest of her feelings until she was in a pleasant state of warmness.

There was no pain and death.

There was no heartache and loss.

There was nothing—and she loved it.

Even the shallow cuts on her hands didn’t bother her—if anything, she was glad to see them.

They were a reminder that, in the end, she’d had the last laugh with Lawrence—she was no longer the victim.

“Luna.”

She startled at the sound of Kit’s voice outside the bathroom door, water splashing onto the floor as she sat up. But he didn’t come in, nor did she see the handle move.

But that didn’t make a difference when she knew she had locked the other door.

“Did you seriously break in here?” she asked, glaring at the door as though he could see her.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t?” he retorted, his voice strained.

She knew he was upset with her because she hadn’t followed his plan to the letter. It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out assignment that she had botched in favor of torturing the hell out of Lawrence.

Kit’s instructions had always been rather clear—you didn’t play with your victims.

He was precise that way.

She had fully intended to follow his rules, at least until she saw Cat and what the monster had done to her.

Rational thought had fled.

She’d wanted Lawrence to hurt, to feel the pain he had caused so many others, and the last thing she wanted to do was apologize for it.

“If you want to debrief,” she called, “let’s do it later.”

There was a moment of silence before Kit was opening the door and strolling inside, as though she wasn’t glaring daggers at him, and he’d been invited.

“Or we can do it now,” he said, going to lean against the sink counter. “What you did was reckless and stupid.”

“Considering I’m sitting right here listening to you, I disagree. I had it under control. You didn’t—”

“You’re paid to do an assignment, nothing more.”

“And I did it. Uilleam only asked that he die, not how to kill him. I knew what time we needed to be out of there—I told you the second you came in that room with me. So why are you giving me shit?”

That was the wrong thing to say, she could tell from the way his eyes went hard and that muscle in his jaw worked. It wasn’t often that Kit was angry with her—she never gave him reason to be—but he was now.

But Luna was feeling a bit reckless, and she was more than happy to give Kit a fight if that was what he wanted. “She was my best friend—the only friend I had. And you want me to pretend like she meant nothing? I can’t turn my feelings on and off like you can, Kit—I don’t work that way.”

That muscle was working faster, but he still didn’t react. “The job—”

“Fuck the job!”

Kit had had enough.

One second he was across the room, the next he was hauling her out of the water with a vengeance, but he didn’t hurt her. Even in her mind’s frenzy as she struggled to right herself, she knew he wouldn’t do that.

She could feel the barely restrained anger pulsating out of him, and the rational part of her knew that she should have been more afraid—that she should have heeded his unspoken warning—but it wasn’t fear she was feeling.

“Don’t make me put you over my knee,” Kit growled at her, his fingers dancing over the column of her throat until he had her face in his hand and forced her to look up at him.

It didn’t matter that she was completely naked and pressed against him dripping wet.

He didn’t care that she was soaking his clothes.

He wanted her attention—he had it.

“There is no fuck the job, Luna. You either do it, or you die. That’s what happens when you sign a contract. If you merely wanted his head, I would have laid it at your feet.”

Her heart was hammering in her chest, her breaths panting. “I can take care of myself, Kit. You taught me how.”

“And you’ve shown me that, but you don’t have to do it alone, Luna. What about that are you not understanding? I’d put anyone in the ground for you, you only need to ask. So the day you give me a name, I’ll show them what fear really is.”

“Because you’re better at it.”

“Because I love you, Luna. Don’t be daft.”

His words managed to suck all the air right out of her. Every bit of her anger and annoyance and agitation with him disappearing.

“Why is that surprising to you?” he asked, his tone gentling. “You had to have known how I felt.”

“But it’s different hearing you say it.”

Kit’s gaze darted over her face before it softened, and he offered a half smile that made her feel warm inside. “I love you, mi pequeña luna. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt. “I love you too, Kit.”

More than the stars.

More than the moon.

More than she had ever thought possible.

She loved him with everything she was.

“I know you’re upset about your friend, and I’m sorry that it happened.” The tension in his shoulders eased. “Aidra is taking care of it.”

What else could she say other than, “Thank you.”

He nodded once. “You did good tonight—mistakes and all.”

But she should have done more, Luna thought.

Not what she had done to Lawrence, but what she hadn’t done for Cat. She should have tried to go after her sooner.

Her throat feeling tight all of a sudden, Luna shook her head. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

Kit sighed, his lips falling to her forehead for a moment. “Then let me help you forget that feeling.”

She didn’t know how long it would last—the reprieve he offered her—but she would take it.

For just a while, she wanted to forget.