Iris. (Den of Mercenaries Book 7) Read online

  She had felt sympathy before, thinking the man had just been another cog in the machine and didn’t actually know the inner machinations. But that wasn’t quite right now. Not if he thought to threaten her.

  “He was looking where he shouldn’t,” Ernest said, lifting his narrowed gaze to her. For a man who had spent the past half an hour being tortured with all manner of instruments, he wasn’t quite ready to break. “You’re gonna end up right there next to him, stupid girl. You shoulda counted yourself lucky.”

  “Give me a reason. That’s all I want.” She just wanted to understand.

  Because the more she understood, the better she would be able to take down the governor.

  Ernest jerked at his chains, his expression becoming more enraged the longer they held. Before she even saw it coming, he reared up and spit at her feet, the glob of red turning her stomach.

  Iris knew before she even felt the charge in the air that he would regret that.

  “I figured you didn’t have any manners, bruv, but that’s just rude, innit? You don’t spit at a lady, and you definitely don’t spit at my lady.”

  He said it with such calm clarity that Iris turned before she could even see what instrument of pain he held, knowing that whatever he was about to use on the man was designed to cause the most damage possible.

  Iris barely had a chance to blink before she heard the crunch of bone, then a wail of agony. It didn’t end for a long while as she stared across the room at the door they had walked through. Some part of her had known, before walking into this room, what would happen once she crossed that threshold.

  She couldn’t pretend as if she didn’t know who and what Synek was.

  And while some part of her was a bit repulsed that he could torture with such ease, the other half of her was emboldened because she knew that by the end of this, no matter what happened along the way, those responsible would all regret what they had done to her father.

  What they had done to her.

  Iris waited until a heavy weight hit the floor before she turned back around to face Ernest. Synek now stood with his arms folded back across his chest, an absent grin on his face as he surveyed his good work.

  Even if there was a chance he might have left this room alive, Synek had ensured he would never walk again.

  “Now, are you ready to tell me what I want to know?” Iris asked as she resumed her stance, voice just as flat as it had been before. “Or do you want him to continue?”

  Ernest gave them everything.

  Synek was quiet on the way home, not that Iris blamed him. She was sure he was still processing everything he had done. Including the fact she was pretty sure if Ernest survived the injuries he’d inflicted on him, his quality of life would be shitty.

  The thought had struck her earlier that she probably hadn’t seen the worst Synek was capable of. Despite feeling as if she had known him forever, it had only been a few weeks—weeks in which they spent mostly tucked away in the brownstone as he plotted revenge against Rosalie and the other Wraiths.

  Iris hadn’t actually seen, up close and personal, what he was capable of or why he was called “the cleaner.” And if he was capable of this when he was sober and of a mostly rational state of mind, she could only imagine the kinds of things he had done at Rosalie’s request.

  The file Belladonna had given her was stuffed with grisly, awful things, but she was sure, even as she glanced over at him to watch his profile as he drove, that he had done far, far worse than anything she could ever imagine.

  “You’re staring again.”

  Synek was an oddly intense driver. He hardly ever took his eyes off the road, and if he did, it was only for barely a second. She half suspected that he wasn’t aware of anything going on around him while his eyes were on the road in front of him, but now she wondered just how long he had been studying her while she watched him.

  “What do you think of everything Ernest told us?” she asked, not ready to talk about what she was actually thinking.

  “Better question is how you feel about it, luv.”

  Right ... because he had done this, all of it, for her benefit.

  But truthfully, she didn’t know what to think about all the information that Ernest had given them once his pain became too much. He hadn’t been able to give them much, considering he wasn’t in the inner folds of Spader’s operation, but he did confirm what she already knew.

  Spader wanted him dead because he was getting too close.

  But too close to what?

  That was the question both she and her father were still looking for the answer to. That was the key to everything.

  “It’s nice to have confirmation.” To know all her efforts over the past few years weren’t wasted. “How are you … handling everything?”

  A knowing smile curled the right side of his mouth as if he knew exactly why she was asking. “Takes more than a little torture to send me ’round the bend. You needn’t worry yourself with that.”

  That was probably true, but she worried still.

  He’d told her stories about the dark places he ventured into when he was left unchecked, but she hadn’t seen it. And if she could help it, she wouldn’t ever see it either.

  “I don’t want you doing anything you’ll have nightmares about later.”

  The first time he had ever woken her up from one, she’d been sure he was still dreaming when he had wrapped his fingers around her throat, but after that once, he’d done better not to lose himself quite so much.

  It also helped that she didn’t try to touch him again when he was in the throes of one.

  Iris didn’t want to be the reason he fell into the abyss of his own mind.

  Before long, they were back at the brownstone, and Synek had grown unusually quiet as he let them inside and immediately started stripping out of his bloodied clothes. By the time he was heading into their shared bedroom, he was completely naked, every bit of his scarred but beautiful body on blatant display.

  Without looking back, he called over his shoulder, “Calavera should be here soon.”

  Shit.

  She had forgotten about that. “You could always take me shopping for a dress for tonight, Synek. It probably wouldn’t kill you.” And she wouldn’t be nearly as nervous with him as she would be with the female mercenary.

  “If I went,” he reminded her, “I would be trying to get you out of a dress rather than in one.”

  And as it stood, she wouldn’t be able to wear any of the dresses she’d brought along with her to the brownstone. She needed something else—something more appropriate for a fundraiser in Manhattan.

  Tonight, after weeks of careful strategizing and planning, they were finally making their first move on Spader.

  It might have been simple if he and the others mercs of the Den had planned a rendezvous and got Spader out of the city and to the Kingmaker before anyone knew, but that wasn’t what Iris wanted.

  She wanted his disgrace. She wanted to see his ruin played out for the world to see.

  He had no problem obliging her because, in the end, that would make his job easier. Fewer questions would arise if a governor went into hiding due to a scandal breaking out rather than just disappearing outright.

  So just like with the Wraiths, the job was simple.

  Use his own position against him.

  The first step in that plan was to attend the fundraiser being held in his honor in Manhattan later tonight. The guest list was exclusive, but they could get their hands on anything when they needed to.

  But for what they had planned, they couldn’t afford to draw attention to themselves. And their affinity for leather would stand out in the sea of high-priced clothing worn by the governor and others.

  He couldn’t think of anyone else who would know what Iris should wear than someone who had to dress the part for a living.

  “Come on. You’ll like Calavera.”

  The only female mercenary on his team—as well as only one of three
who worked directly for the Kingmaker—Calavera was every bit as trained as the rest of them. She just did her job in a dress most days.

  The Kingmaker liked to call her his spider.

  “It’s not really a question of whether I’ll like her,” she said, handing him his knife back, handle out.

  Ah, he understood.

  She was worried Winter had told the other woman about how they’d met.

  “A little kidnapping never hurt anyone,” Synek said with a wave of his hand. “Her husband sold her off when she was sixteen.” Iris cringed, staring at him as if she thought he was joking. “Sounds bad when I put it like that … Needless to say, they’ve worked through their differences.”

  Her expression said she didn’t believe him. “Is she married to one of the mercenaries?”

  “The Kingmaker’s brother, actually.”

  “Who?”

  “Right. I forget you know next to nothing about all this. Quick rundown. Me, Red, Celt, Calavera, and Skorpion make up the Den.” Plus other mercenaries, but they didn’t matter. “The four Romanian fuckers go by the Wild Bunch. You’ve met the Kingmaker. You remember the other suit who was there during that meeting at the compound?”

  She nodded once.

  “Nix. Handler for the Wild Bunch, the Kingmaker’s brother, and Calavera’s husband. See? Simple.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to remember any of that.”

  “You’ll catch on,” he answered, walking her out of the bedroom.

  Besides, she’d be sticking around long enough to learn them.

  “And you?” she asked, walking over to his side. “What’ll you be doing while I’m gone?”

  “Meetings.”

  Meetings ... as if he was going into a boardroom instead of a control room where he would be given orders by a man intent on destroying the life of a woman he cared about.

  A typical Tuesday.

  But this Tuesday would be a little different; not just because the Kingmaker was calling in all his mercenaries, but also because only two topics of conversation were going to be discussed.

  Grimm and Belladonna.

  It was going on three years now that he had been specifically tasked with finding the mercenary who’d gone missing nearly six years prior. Every time he got close to an answer or a promising location, Grimm would slip away again, and there’d be no trace he had ever been there at all.

  Now, they were closer than they had ever been, thanks to the governor.

  If he could manage to get Iris what she wanted and find Grimm, his job would be done.

  He just had to pull it off.

  “Just don’t get into anything that’s going to take you to a bad place,” she said softly, that thread of concern in her voice as comforting as it was upsetting.

  She knew he had nightmares if he didn’t properly medicate himself—and his medication usually consisted of fucking and booze, though the latter had given out to more of the first.

  Like last night.

  Sometimes, even he couldn’t explain what woke him up in the middle of the night from a dead sleep, his heart racing in his chest, memories plaguing his thoughts. It was a shit state to be in.

  He’d thought to slip out of the bedroom and leave her sleeping, but he’d barely move an inch off the bed before she was calling his name. He couldn’t deny her even when he needed to.

  “Nothing too strenuous, dove. We have plans tonight.”

  “Then take care of you,” she said before touching her lips to his, reminding him why he was ready to commit murder if it meant keeping her.

  This feeling she gave him … he didn’t ever want to lose it.

  “I’ll ring you when it’s time.”

  Headlights flashed outside as she nodded. “Wish me luck.”

  “You won’t need it.”

  She smiled even as she shook her head. “What makes you so sure she’ll like me?”

  Synek didn’t pause. “Because I do.”

  Chapter 3

  Calavera was far too pretty and looked nothing like the way a mercenary should, but Iris could tell in a glance that she was more than capable of handling herself.

  Even leaning against the side of a gleaming white Maserati, something was carefully controlled about her relaxed stance.

  “You must be Iris,” Calavera said, straightening as Iris drew closer with a bright smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Officially, I mean.”

  Calavera had been there the first and only time Iris had ever stepped foot inside the Den compound, but considering the topic of conversation that day, Iris hadn’t been the focus of anyone’s attention.

  Now, though, she had no choice but to be the center of attention. She had always felt a certain disconnect from the rest of the world because she had gone so long without forming any human attachments, but now she was. She wouldn’t be able to escape the scrutiny as easily. There was no more hiding.

  And while she had already met most of the mercenaries during a surprise trip to Ireland for Celt a week and a half ago, Calavera hadn’t been able to make it in time. Her gift to the new and hastily married couple had more than made up for her lack of attendance.

  Iris wasn’t short by any means, but Calavera still towered over her by a few inches without heels. Her brown hair was cut to her shoulders, her eyes that same lovely shade of brown, and circled around her neck was a gold collar with a small hoop dangling from the front.

  “I would say don’t believe anything you might have heard about me, but”—Iris shrugged—“it’s probably true.”

  Like the fact she was responsible for Synek getting taken by the Wraiths and subsequently tortured for three days. Or that she had drugged him and made out with him minutes later.

  It was one hell of a way to start a relationship.

  But if she was judging her for it, it didn’t reflect on her face. “Oh, no worries. Knowing Syn, that was probably foreplay.”

  Iris didn’t know whether to laugh or agree because she wasn’t wrong. But before she could say as much, they were no longer alone. “Don’t scare her off, Calavera, yeah? I’m trying to keep this one,” Synek called as he locked the apartment and walked over to them. “Where’s your assassin? I’m surprised he’s not here issuing some sort of warning.”

  “He’s back at the compound waiting for you with the Kingmaker.”

  “Right. I’m off then.”

  He pressed a hard, fast kiss to Iris’s mouth, though his words were for Calavera. “Take care of her.”

  Iris fought a smile. “I can take care of myself, Syn.”

  “I know,” he said, fishing out an envelope and handing it to her.

  “What’s this?”

  “You’re going to need it.”

  “Syn doesn’t believe in credit cards,” Calavera supplied. “Or bank accounts, for that matter.”

  “That’s not completely true, though, is it? Winter keeps my finances secure.”

  “Because you’re the only one of us who still takes cash as payment, Syn.”

  As they bantered back and forth, Iris peeked into the envelope, her breath catching as she realized just how much money he’d tucked inside. All in crisp one-hundred-dollar bills.

  “I can’t take this,” she muttered before closing it, trying to hand it back now that she had his attention again. “I still have, you know … the other payment.”

  For her role in his kidnapping.

  They had never spoken about it, and she hadn’t touched the money since it showed up in her account. She felt too guilty.

  His brows shot up, but he didn’t look angry. “How much was the bounty?”

  Iris stared at him a moment, trying to gauge whether he actually wanted to know or if the answer would upset him, but the only thing she saw in his face was genuine curiosity.

  “Thirty thousand.”

  “Oh, you were cheap, Syn,” Calavera said with a light laugh. “I wouldn’t have accepted anything less than a quarter for you.”

  “Always
haggle, dove,” Synek replied as he kissed her forehead and walked back over to her car.

  Only Synek would be more upset about the price on his head than the fact she had been the one to collect it.

  “You do know that’s my car, right?” she asked as he opened the driver’s door.

  “What’s mine is yours and all,” he answered back before slipping inside and starting it up.

  Iris watched him drive away, the engine growling as he sped off, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything other than a warm sense of contentment.

  “We should go,” Calavera said as she pushed off the car. “We’ve got a lot to do in a few hours.”

  “A lot?” Iris asked. “I thought we only needed to pick a dress?”

  That was what Synek had told her anyway.

  Calavera’s smile was small but amused. “Syn wants you to pick up more. Says you had to give up your apartment or something?”

  Of course, he would think of that when she hadn’t.

  He was proving thoughtful that way.

  “Looks like we’re going shopping.”

  Boutiques, as beautiful as they could be, were foreign to Iris.

  She had never stepped foot inside one a day in her life—at least, not the kind that had a doorman along with a guest card Calavera presented from her back pocket.

  Iris existed in Levi’s jeans and leather jackets. And when she did wear a dress, it had never come from a place like this where it looked as if every price tag would cause her to do a double take.

  One backlit wall was made up entirely of heels, none under four inches. The one to the left held colorful purses in every shade imaginable—the leather expertly designed and tailored. And finally, to the left and up a small winding staircase were racks of beaded and jeweled dresses.

  “This is a bit …” Iris looked around, drinking it all in. “Unnecessary.”

  In her experience, the men she went after didn’t care very much about the name sewn on the dress or how much it cost—they only cared how short it was and whether it would be easy to remove later. Even if she had no intention of coming out of it.

  “When I first started,” Calavera said as they walked deeper into the boutique, “I didn’t think I would ever have to do this.” She gestured around the boutique with a small sweep of her hand as if she could read Iris’s thoughts. “I had this job where I needed to get close to a Russian diplomat. The problem is, when you’re around people like that, they notice if you don’t look the way you’re supposed to.”