Celt. (Den of Mercenaries #2)(73)

With a warning like that …

They all boarded an elevator, heading up to the fifth floor that let out onto a floor of offices. Led through various corridors, they finally stopped at a back office that had a near 360-degree view of the city. From what she could tell, most of the offices had the same.

Inside, there were far more men, these dressed similarly to the way Kyrnon had been the day he confronted her boss. They barely spared her a glance, like they knew she wasn’t a threat. How could she be when her hands were still bound and she didn’t have a weapon?

Shoved into a seat, Amber had no choice but to wait, counting the minutes in her head.

Until there was no longer a need.

Static from the walkie-talkie clipped to a man’s belt sounded, a sharp voice on the other end announcing that there was a visitor.

Amber’s heart rate kicked up. They didn’t have to say a name for her to know that it was Kyrnon, that he was finally back. But she didn’t feel relief just yet, not when they hadn’t made it out just yet.

From her position, she could just see the elevators, or at least the men standing in front of them. The thought had just crossed her mind when there was a chime and the doors slid open slowly.

A heartbeat passed before she saw the beginning of a silencer, a gasp of surprise leaving her as the man’s head jerked back with the force of the bullet ripping through his skull.

There was one thing seeing it on television, but witnessing it firsthand, followed by the spray of blood as brain matter exploded out the back of his head, Amber didn’t think she would ever forget the sight.

But she couldn’t bring herself to look away, not even when one of the other guards went down just as quickly.

Despite the rather graphic display of violence, the woman behind the desk didn’t look moved by it, more irritated than afraid for her life, not even when Kyrnon came around the corner, eyes blazing, guns at the ready.

He looked fearless.

Unwavering.

Willing to cut through anyone that stood in his way.

Yet, even with his fingers wrapped around the triggers, he didn’t shoot anyone else despite having already killed two men.

“Now, let’s not be hasty,” the woman said with a delicate smile, slowly getting to her feet. “There’s no need in acting uncivilized, mercenary. As long as you have my payment, she’s all yours.”

Even as she said this, one of her men drew closer to Amber’s side, pressing the barrel of a gun to her temple. He cocked back the hammer, the sound impossibly loud next to her ear.

Kyrnon’s gaze found hers, needing the visual confirmation that she was okay before he addressed the woman. “Either he moves that gun, or he loses a hand. Test me if you want, but I’ve never missed a shot.”

“Are you willing to bet her life on it?” she asked, another set of men appearing, all aiming for Kyrnon’s head. “Had you not murdered my men, I might have let you leave this place, but because of your arrogance, the price has gone up.”

Kyrnon smirked. “I have what you want.” From one of the pockets in his vest, he drew out a necklace that had more diamonds than Amber had ever seen in person. “You give her back to me, this is yours.”

“You’re entirely too attractive to be this stupid,” she said with a shake of her head. “In case you didn’t notice, you are grievously outnumbered.”

In their focus on Kyrnon, no one heard the elevators open once more, nor did they notice the man that was now walking toward them.

“Come now, Elora,” he announced once he was in the room with them, “that’s quite enough of that.”

Amber may have been focused on Kyrnon, feeling like her heart was about to break out of her chest as she stared at the red dots illuminated on his forehead from the scopes of their rifles, but from the way everyone around her seemed to focus on the man that was now entering the room, she had no choice but to look to him as well.

There was something about him … something that she couldn’t adequately describe, but it was clear that whoever he was, he had more power than anyone in this room since he didn’t seem to care about the guns drawn, or the fact that there was already a few dead bodies on the ground. He simply walked past them as though they didn’t matter.

“Curious,” the woman, Elora, said as she re-crossed her legs. “I didn’t believe we were on a first name basis, Kingmaker.”

“No one ever is, I can assure you, but we aren’t here for such trivial matters. While I’m usually a fan of violence as a tool to teach a lesson,” he took a seat in one of the stuffed armchairs in the office, and despite Elora having had the upper hand before, it was clear this was no longer the case, “now is not one of those times. I have plans, you understand. And if I want them to come to fruition, then I need all my players. Celt is one of them.”

“Then perhaps your players should mind their steps,” Elora returned as she glared at him. “I’ve killed people for less.”

The Kingmaker, as he seemed to be called, barely spared Amber a glance as a fleeting smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he regarded Elora. “We all have our faults, no? And that has always been your problem, Elora. Your insecurity causes you to act before you think.”

“How dare—”

“Save the theatrics for someone that cares for them. I don’t.”