“Oh, come now, dove. What’s that look for?”

Iris had tried to hide her disappointment as Synek moved around the room, grabbing everything he would need for his trip and tossing it on the bed next to her.

She should have been used to this by now, especially since she had seen him do this more than a dozen times now, but it didn’t make it any easier. There was still that knot of fear in her stomach at the thought of him leaving and not coming back.

“It’s dangerous,” she said, finally answering his question as she went up onto her knees, reaching for him. “You don’t even know where you’re going.”

Especially when it was because of her that they were going to a place she wasn’t sure was even out there. She hadn’t known why she bothered to look through what little she had left of the ex-governor’s information, but curiosity had gotten the best of her the other day when she had gone to see Winter to retrieve a box she’d said she had for Synek.

While there, she had pulled out the pictures of the maps.

“I don’t know,” Iris said as she stared at the projection of the map, wishing she knew why she found it so interesting. “There has to be something here, though, right?”

Even if it was just a feeling.

There had to be something they could use in the hunt to find Grimm. Though he wasn’t a part of the Den anymore, she could still tell Grimm’s disappearance was the one thing that still weighed on him.

Tăcut, who was lingering on the other side of the room, stepped up next to her, his gaze trailing over the map as hers had, but he didn’t look nearly as interested as she felt. He didn’t think there were any answers on the map.

“But it has to,” she said, answering his unspoken doubt. “Why else would he have two identical maps?”

The first could have very well been a design choice, but two? Especially when, from what she saw, his two offices weren’t decorated the same way. Yet this was the focal point in both.

Tăcut shrugged, still unconvinced.

“They said Eastern Europe, right?” she asked, already walking over to where it was depicted on the map. Instead of the black spots that were still untouched, she focused on the gold where Spader had been. “Maybe there’s a place familiar to you?”

She looked back, waiting on his response. He looked from the map to her and nodded.

Good enough.

She started in Russia, occasionally glancing back at him to see if any rang a bell, but when he remained as stoic as ever, she moved on. Next, because she remembered details Synek had shared with her, she focused on Romania.

“Bucharest, Constanta, Gheenă, do any—”

Before she could even ask the question, Tăcut was suddenly there beside her, his gaze intent where she was pointing. He nodded his head.

“What?”

Confusion marred his face as he scanned the map, but it was clear he wasn’t finding what he was looking for.

“Was it something I said?”

He nodded once.

“Bucharest?”

One shake of his head.

“Constanta?”

Another shake of his head.

“Gheenă?”

He nodded.

Her heart skipped a beat even as she pointed at what she thought was a tiny little city just to the right of Constanta. It might have meant nothing to her—though she had only ever heard of one major city in Romania—but it obviously meant something to him.

“What about it?”

Tăcut didn’t respond, at least not to her. Instead, he snapped his fingers, grabbing the attention of the Wild Bunch member with the skeletal tattoos, Thanatos. He came over without question.

Tăcut signed something, his hands moving fast, but Thanatos didn’t miss a word of it. “Gheenă?” he asked. “Where the hell is that?”

Now, it was Thanatos who was staring at the map in confusion.

“It means hell,” he whispered as if it intrigued him.

Which was what had bothered her the most.

Why did he have an unpopulated area of Romania marked as hell?

That was all Synek had needed.

It was one thing to acknowledge that the ex-governor was hiding something in Romania—if his maps were to be believed—but it was something else entirely when it was Synek going. Sure, the other members of the Den were going with him, and they made a formidable team, but the thought of losing him was too great.

They didn’t know what was waiting for them there. They didn’t even have a precise location, just a general idea of where they were trying to go.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he said, tossing his duffel bag aside to reach for her, twisting them until he sat on the bed with her straddling his lap.

She traced her fingers over the collar of his shirt before she met his gaze. It had only felt like days ago when she had come home to him, and the look of sheer torture on his face had nearly broken her heart.

As strong and formidable as he was, she had nearly broken him when she had faked her death. But while there hadn’t actually been a threat to her, there was a real one to him.

The former governor might be dead, but she didn’t doubt for a second that his criminal organizations were still running just fine.

“It’s not that I’m worried about you,” Iris said, fisting the material of his shirt. “I ... I just don’t want to risk losing you again. Once was enough.”

She felt him shift before he had a hand beneath the fall of her hair and cupping her neck. He dragged her down for a kiss, one that spoke of promises and desire. Of love and triumph.

Synek kissed her as if it was the last time every time, but that still brought a certain level of comfort that had her relaxing in his hold.

“I’ll come back,” he whispered against her lips.

A promise.

But he couldn’t not go, she knew. Not when there was a chance Grimm was still out there. Belladonna might have said that the governor was the only one with the man’s location, and that he was as good as dead once he died, but neither Synek nor the other mercenaries were willing to give up.

Not yet.

Instead, they were going to Gheenă, that nonexistent location in Romania, with hopes of finding Grimm, or at least some indication of his whereabouts.

And if he was dead, they would ensure whoever remained ended up that way as well.

“Be careful,” she whispered back, kissing him one last time. “Now go and do what you do.”

At the end of the day, if she were Grimm—if Grimm was still out there—she knew she would want it to be Synek who came after her.

“Soon,” he said before kissing her forehead, then the curve of her jaw, and finally, her lips again. “I’ll be back soon.”

Iris had no choice but to wait.

* * *

“If this is the last job,” Red said as he tossed his own duffel bag over his shoulder, leading the way to the waiting jet, “I don’t think this is a bad way to go out.”

“For fuck’s sake, d’you have to be so fucking cynical?” Celt asked, glaring over at him.

It was amusing to see the difference between them now. Once, Red had been the surly one with a quick temper and need for violence. Now, he was calm and content while Celt looked as if he was seconds from going off on someone.

Then again, he was still recovering from the damage he’d taken from the Jackal. And it didn’t help matters that waiting for them next to the jet was the Wild Bunch.

The discord between the Den and the Wild Bunch had simmered down, but considering Celt would undoubtedly hold a grudge to the man they all considered a brother, it was unlikely he would get over it anytime soon.

“And who went and invited them, eh?” Celt asked, though his gaze immediately went to Synek and narrowed. “This was your doing, wasn’t it?”

“You spend a lot of time in Romania?” Synek asked, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “Because fuck if I have, and this lot grew up there. It’ll save us time if we know where we’re going.”

Not to mention, as personal as this all was for them, it was personal for Winter too. The Romanians were stubborn—arguably as stubborn as Synek would be if he were in their shoes—but Winter wasn’t. She knew, even if they hadn’t wanted to admit it, that they wanted to find the Jackal.

If Grimm was in Gheenă, then there could be clues as to the Jackal’s whereabouts as well. And even as she had never met the man, she knew that the Wild Bunch wanted to find him.

If only before Celt and the Den did.

Synek didn’t care very much about what ultimately happened to the Jackal—whether he was found and brought back or if he remained a ghost—but he did care about Winter. And for her, he would do what he could.

“You would think they’d mellow with age,” Skorpion commented dryly as he kept in step with Synek. “They’re getting worse.”

Synek laughed.

The man wasn’t wrong.

Winter broke away from the Romanians to walk over to him. “I owe you for this.”

“Nonsense,” he said and meant it. “It’s the least I could do for you.”

She’d done far more for him than he could put into words.

Besides, she probably needed to save her thanks for later. They all had to make it back in one piece without killing each other.

As they drew closer, Fang was the first to acknowledge him with a jerk of his chin before he headed up onto the plane, the others following. Tăcut was the only one to linger, undoubtedly waiting for Winter.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” Skorpion said, his gaze on the approaching car.

Synek looked over in confusion but realized very quickly who had arrived.

Calavera stepped out of the car, shades shielding her eyes and a backpack over her shoulder.

She didn’t falter until she was nearly upon them. “What?” she asked, her eyes narrowed. “For the love of ... not you too.”

It was clear when neither he nor Skorpion moved that she knew she wouldn’t be winning this one.

“I’m pregnant, not handicap.”

“Not happening,” Skorpion said, meeting her glare with a frosty one of his own. “We can handle this ourselves.”

“He was my friend too, and last time I checked, we were all a team. If you’re going to go find Grimm, I’m going with you. End of story.”

Yet they still didn’t move.

Her glare lasted a second longer before she rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll stay with Winter.”

Which meant they would both be tucked away in the plane without getting even remotely close to any of the action.

Fair enough.

Synek was the first to step aside, smiling to himself as she grumbled under her breath and brushed past him.

This would be a fucking riot.

* * *

Snow stretched as far as the eye could see, a blanket of white that might have been blinding had it not been for the goggles Synek wore.

Two hours they had been in Romania, having landed more than thirty minutes away from Gheenă’s supposed location, yet the only thing he had seen in all that time was barren trees and wilderness.

During the drive, Synek had thought for the second time that it was a good idea to bring the Wild Bunch along. Sure, the map in Spader’s office had given them an approximate location, but they would have been wandering for hours, if not days, trying to find ... well, whatever it was they were looking for.

They knew, though it had never been confirmed, that Grimm was being held in a black site. Some place remote with limited internet connection, which meant it was virtually undetectable by conventional means.

But as Fang sat in the front, pointing Celt in the right direction, Synek was sure the man had led them to the right place.

Almost opposite the sign that proclaimed this barren place to be Gheenă, ravens scattered from the treetops, and Synek was sure he saw an animal skull half buried within the snow.

“I’ve got heat signatures on your left, fifteen meters out,” Winter said over the comms they all wore. High above, a drone provided her with all the visual she would need.

“Red has them,” Celt said without taking his eyes off the road, a second before there was a thump on the roof as Red got into position.

From his position in the back of the truck, Synek didn’t have to see to know when he heard the sharp crack of two bullets firing that Red had hit his targets.

The man didn’t miss.

“You’re free and clear for another fifty yards,” Winter said a moment later.

For more than a decade, Synek had gone on many a job, all varying in difficulty. All never inspiring anything more than mild irritation in him. He wasn’t nervous when he did his job, not when he knew how to do it well.

And definitely not when he wasn’t alone.

But today ... he was nervous.

It wasn’t just about getting Grimm out of this place no matter the costs; he was thinking about what it would take to ensure he made it home in one piece and back to Iris.

The closer they came, the more his heart raced, but even as adrenaline coursed through him, giddiness followed on its heels.

There was nothing like a little violence to look forward to.

* * *

Iris didn’t often walk around with a gun sheathed at her back, but for the time being, she would.

Maybe if every news station in the state wasn’t talking about the Kingmaker, she might not have been so nervous, but knowing that Belladonna had won and the man would be out looking for revenge, she preferred to be safe.

While she still didn’t know how long it would be until Synek returned—hopefully before her father was released—she could make herself useful, though her first idea wasn’t going to prove as time-consuming as she initially thought it would.

Between glancing at the clock every few minutes or checking her phone, and mindlessly watching television, and waiting for any word from Synek, she wondered if this would be her new reality.

Blowing out a breath, Iris got to her feet, grabbing the baseball hat that Synek insisted she wear everywhere—after she had taken a pair of scissors to her hair and cut it shorter—figuring it wouldn’t hurt if she went out to get some fresh air.

Gone were the fancy hotels in the city that had been her homes over the past eight years. Now, she was inside a motel room in a sketchy part of the city, but one where most people made it a point to look the other way.

Everyone was minding their own.

Here, she didn’t have to worry so much.

Iris tucked her hands into her pockets once she was out of the motel hallways that smelled faintly of tobacco and something else cloying, starting down the street toward the bodega at the corner. The owner hardly ever looked up from small television he kept behind the counter, especially when his games were on.

His hand shot up in a dismissive wave as the bell sounded when Iris entered, but he didn’t bother to even look in her direction. She hadn’t come here to buy anything in particular, but now that she was walking up the aisle, she figured it wouldn’t hurt to grab a soda or one of the spicy pickles in the bag. She couldn’t get enough of them even though Synek glared at her anytime she ate one.

Damn Brit.

She bent at the waist a bit to get a better view of the different flavors before finding the one she wanted. She’d barely gotten it into her hand before a voice to her right nearly startled the life out of her.

“Iris.”

She nearly knocked down the display before closing her eyes and counting back from ten to calm her racing heart. “This is really getting old.”

If the woman was offended at all, she didn’t show it. Instead, she offered a patient smile, as she always did, and clasped her hands in front of her ... as she always did.

It was a shame that Iris had familiarized herself so much with the other woman, especially considering she was supposed to hate her. But while she wasn’t sure how she felt about Belladonna, she knew that it wasn’t hate.

“Don’t worry yourself, Iris. I won’t be staying long.”

“Why are you here at all?” she asked.

Belladonna should have been gone. Iris hadn’t expected to see her again after the press conference when she had quite literally broken the news channels.

“I came to offer you restitution.”

“I’m sorry,” Iris said with a blink. “You what?”

“Uilleam and I ... We’re bred of the same monster, but while he offered sums to his mercenaries for the dangers he put them in, I hadn’t offered the same to you or Ada.”

Ada ... Skorpion’s fiancée.

Iris had only ever seen the woman once—courtesy of a picture in the man’s phone—but she didn’t know the full story behind her.

“I manipulated some events, hoping it would lead me here, and while everything went as I had hoped, that doesn’t mean you haven’t suffered. So I’ve wired a sum of eight million pounds into this account,” she said, passing her a small notecard with a series of numbers on it. “For you and your father.”

Iris didn’t know what to say.

“Take care, Iris,” Belladonna said with a formal nod of her head. When she turned her back, fully intending on leaving once more, Iris forgot all about caution.

“I’m curious,” Iris called after her, waiting until she paused and looked back to speak. “Why didn’t you kill him? You had every opportunity.”

“I couldn’t,” she answered. “And I had no reason to.”

She said that with such calm efficiency that Iris almost believed her. Almost. Because while she didn’t know the Kingmaker as well as Belladonna or any of the others, she knew that he might have been willing to be done with the mercenaries, but he wasn’t done with the woman in front of her.

Not by a long shot.

And she wondered, oh how she wondered, what would become of them once they were all gone. Once there was no one else they could face but each other.

As she watched the woman disappear out the doors, Iris tried to imagine what could have possibly happened between those two to bring them to this point.

* * *

Synek was the first through the door, taking out anyone who wore a guard’s uniform and those who didn’t quickly scatter out of his way. Though he had no idea where he was going, it was easy for him to navigate the halls as it was similarly designed to a two-story prison.

“Take the left corridor.”

Whatever resistance met him was quickly disposed of as the cell doors opened one by one. The prisoners fled from their cells, raging against their captors, which made Synek’s job even easier.

“Is this you?” he asked Winter, happily showing one of the prisoners his favorite knife when he looked at him a second too long.

“I’m not opening the cells,” she answered, sounding every bit as confused as he felt.

“Somebody else is here,” he muttered gravely, quickening his step.

Iris might have trusted Belladonna to keep her word that once she did what was asked of her, that would be the last time they spoke, but Synek didn’t. Because, for whatever reason, she had chosen to kidnap and hold Grimm for years compared to the minutes she’d spent with each of them.

Grimm meant something, and he doubted it was in a good way.

“Right hallway.”

He followed Winter’s direction, entering a darker, more secluded section of the black site. These cells, unlike the others, were smaller, only holding a single bed each, and the men inside them didn’t look half-starved mindless.

Their eyes were clear, their stance straight.

They watched him with the same impassiveness as he watched them.

What the fuck was going on?

He couldn’t stop, though, not when he didn’t know why the other prisoners were being released or even who was in charge of the facility. Instead, he picked up the pace, scanning the cells as he passed, looking for a familiar face in the sea of men.

Synek was nearly to the door when a small charge went off, blowing the doors off two cells, smoke and debris flying out.

“Grimm!”

He forgot all about training as he raced forward, fearing the worst. He could almost hear Winter screaming in his ear, but the words were drowned out as the ringing in his ears grew louder.

A blond man with a beard came stumbling out of one of the cells, his gaze immediately latching onto Synek and narrowing. There was a tattoo inked up the side of his neck—a snake, if he saw correctly.

“Incoming,” the man said, his voice distinctly American.

Synek might have let him be had he not came at him.

Instead, he had no choice but to dodge a well-thrown punch that barely missed his jaw. He launched a fist of his own, first to the man’s side—though he hardly made a sound or moved back a step despite the power Synek had behind that hit—then another to his face, but before he could connect, a foot landed soundly in his side.

He flew across the room, his ribs protesting the treatment and all he saw was red.

He lurched back around, ready to fight, barely taking in the grisly visage of the man with too long hair and a beard that was in desperate need of a cut.

Synek was swinging before he even got a good visual.

But someone caught his fist.

“You’d think I hadn’t taught you how to fight.”

All at once, the rage fled him as he reared back, blinking up at the man who released him a second later.

He couldn’t have fought a grin if he tried. “Grimm bastard.”

He smirked behind his beard, the same man he’d always been, if not for the tightness around his eyes. “What took you so fucking long?”

Synek laughed.

If only the man knew.

He touched his fingers to his ear, not willing to take his eyes off Grimm for a moment lest the man disappear again.

“Target acquired.”

* * *

Iris was seconds from chewing off her thumbnail when she heard the mechanical whirring at the door a second before the lock turned and the heavy wood swung open. Synek walked in, still in his gear, though he was a little worse for wear.

That didn’t stop her from racing across the room and checking over the rest of him to make sure that he wasn’t too injured besides the bruises and cuts she saw on his face.

But he only gave her a second to look her fill before his mouth was on hers and she forgot about everything else that wasn’t him.

“It’s good to be home,” he said, holding her so tight she could burst.

But Iris didn’t mind.

She squeezed him back.

“I’m glad you made it back. Did you find him?”

Part of her was afraid his relieved expression would disappear, and sadness would take its place, but it didn’t. He smiled. Smiled so brightly that she knew they had found him before he even said. That his friend and mentor and the man he’d been searching for, for years was alive and well.

The job really was done.

“What now?” she asked, brushing her fingers through his hair.

“Now? Now, we fuck, and I pass out for a few days.”

Sounded like a plan.