Celt. (Den of Mercenaries #2)(58)

“What happened? Who—”

“Lauren.”

Mishca didn’t raise his voice, nor did his tone change, but it was clear her name was a warning.

Lauren glared at him. “She’s my friend, Mish. Not one of your soldiers.

“Just so, but right now that's exactly what she needs—a friend,” Mishca said as he kissed the top of Lauren’s head. “Let me handle the rest of it.”

Lauren looked like she wanted to argue further, but before she could, Amber asked, “Did he find Kyrnon? Niklaus, I mean.”

“Kyrnon?” Lauren asked. “That’s who we’re looking for?”

“A fecking Irishman,” Luka announced as he came into the office, shirtless for whatever reason, using the worst Irish accent Amber had ever heard. “But don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours. We can handle him.”

That thought didn’t particularly fill her with joy. “Will it really have to come to that?” The last thing she wanted was for anyone to get hurt because of her.

And if she were being honest with herself, she didn’t want anything to happen to Kyrnon either.

“I’ve been shot before,” Luka said draping an arm around her shoulders. “No worries.”

It had been a while, she knew, but she had obviously forgotten how… touched … Luka was. “But I don’t want you or anyone else to get shot.”

He squeezed her tighter. “Alex said that to me once.”

“And …”

He looked down at her. “And?”

“She said that to you once, and then what?”

“Nothing. She just said that to me once.”

Sometimes she didn’t know whether to worry for his sanity, or laugh at his antics. He meant well at least.

“Probably for good reason,” she said back absently, her gaze drawn to Mishca who was staring out the windows of his office to the floor below, a concerned expression on his face, but while he looked troubled, the tension that had been in him since the moment she entered his office and told him about her problem eased away.

He leaned down, whispering something to Lauren that made her mouth fall open in what could only be described as surprise.

Amber heard the pounding of feet, and as she looked to the doorway, she’d been expecting Niklaus to walk back though, but the last person she anticipated walking through those doors was Kyrnon, still dressed in gear that made him look far more dangerous than he did on a regular basis.

Mishca was the first to speak. “Celt.”

“Celt?” There was that name again, and as she looked back at Lauren and Mishca, there was no worry in their eyes as they looked to Kyrnon—as though they didn’t think him a threat.

Was that … familiarity?

This wasn’t happening.

“Volkovs.”

Her Albanian protector threw the arm he didn’t have around her shoulder in the air. “Luka!”

It may have been his exclamation that drew Kyrnon’s gaze over to Amber and Luka, but as his eyes scanned over her, narrowing on Luka’s hold on her, he didn’t look pleased.

“Remove your arm.”

Luka grew tense beside her, even as he grinned, a dark, predatory smile that didn’t spell good things for anyone. “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll do it for you.” Kyrnon’s tone brokered no argument, and in that moment, he looked like he would do whatever necessary to prove that point.

“I invite you to try.” Luka shrugged, as though his words were no big deal. “But I promised the wife I would work on my anger management. So, Kyrnon, I suggest you keep your distance or I’ll show you what it really means to have scars.”

Only once had Amber ever been around Luka when that manic glee of his turned into something quietly terrifying. He didn’t yell, nor act like a brute, but the threat was clear in his voice, and even Amber thought of taking a step away from him.

But Kyrnon wasn’t moved. “I’ll give you until I make it across this floor.”

“Should I start counting, or do you have it?” Luka asked.

Now she was seeing more of that notorious temper Kyrnon had told her about, but it wasn’t just about the challenge that Luka presented.

He was jealous.

And had this been an ordinary meeting of friends, she might have found his jealousy cute.

But now?

Now she was too worried what would happen if he did cross that floor.

Before he could take a step in their direction, however, Niklaus whistled low. “Crawl back under your stone, Luka. There won’t be any torture for you today—he doesn’t mean her any harm.”

Amber wasn’t so sure about that. “He tried to kill my boss. I’m not sure what your definition of ‘no harm’ means, but I think mine is different.”

For a moment, she thought Kyrnon looked wounded. “You have nothing to fear from me, lovie. You know that.” Scrubbing a hand down his face, his gaze never wavered from hers. “Give me a chance to explain.”

There was nothing more that she wanted than an explanation, reasoning behind everything that had happened between them, and everything that hadn’t.

But she wasn’t ready.

Not when he was armed for war and she could see the faintest trace of blood on his hands.