Nix. (Den of Mercenaries Book 3)(52)

A pair of butterfly knives.

They were solid looking things, the handles of the knives drawn away to show the sharp-tipped blades. The craftsmanship going into making them even impressed Kit who’d seen plenty of beautiful weaponry over his twenty-eight years, but more interesting was the detailing on the handles.

Skulls were carved into the metal, wisps of smoke flowing through each one.

“They’re not for you,” his brother responded, a blood-curdling scream following his words. “D’you mind? I’m in the middle of a phone call.”

“Should I even ask?” Kit inquired with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s best you don’t, but what I’m doing here is of little relevance. The package I sent was for Luna since that’s who I addressed it to.”

Actually, Kit hadn’t bothered to read the label, but as he flipped the box around, turning the flap over, it was, in fact, labeled for Luna. “And why would you be sending her gifts?”

There was a smile in Uilleam’s voice as he asked, “Do I detect a note of jealousy? I’m disappointed, brother. I never thought it would be a woman that came between us.”

“You’re not in the habits of freely given presents—that’s not your style.”

“Isn’t it? A place in my Den is considered a gift to many. Besides, I’m kind to those I appreciate.”

Kit smirked. “You’re never kind to me.”

“So that should tell you the extent of my feelings toward you.”

Kit might have laughed if his brother’s words weren’t partly true. “So you intend to gift her with knives? Are you surveilling me?” Kit asked, glancing around his office. He wouldn’t put it past the man to do something like that.

Uilleam scoffed. “Of course not. I respect your privacy.”

That, Kit didn’t believe for a second. “Then how could you possibly know she had a predilection for knives?”

“Don’t you?”

Kit chose not to acknowledge that. “Then I guess my question is why you’re sending them to her.”

“Because I have a job for her,” Uilleam said, “one I would have delivered in person if not for this unfortunate business with my banker.”

“Is that Donald you’re having tortured? What has he done now?”

“Nothing that concerns the Runehart trust. Now, back to the job.”

“Go on.”

“Her target is Lawrence Kendall.”

“That’s not wise.”

“By all means,” Uilleam replied dryly. “Provide me with an opinion I haven’t asked for.”

“The first assignment should never have personal ties.”

There was too much room for error.

Kit had seen the result of those that went after the ones who burned them, and how they barely managed to see the job done. They were still too fragile, too green to what had happened to them to allow them a clear head.

And those had been men.

Luna, even with his training, could falter against someone that had caused her such horrific pain, and that moment of doubt could get her killed.

“Quite aware of that, brother, but time is of the essence and I need to see this done.”

Ignoring that, Kit asked, “I thought he was a client of yours?”

Uilleam had a rule that so long as a client was under contract with him, they were safe from his mercenaries. And sometimes, depending on the client, even after the contract ended, he wouldn’t accept a new client that meant to go after them.

“Yes, but seeing how our business has come to an end, I thought it would be to my benefit if I got rid of him. I’m sure Luna wouldn’t mind.”

“She probably wouldn’t,” Kit agreed, “but just because you’re given permission to do something, doesn’t mean you should.”

“I think you’re forgetting something, brother.”

“Am I?”

Uilleam’s tone darkened. “She answers to me.”

A spark of irritation swept through Kit as he dropped his feet to the floor from where they had been propped on his desk, sitting upright in his chair. “And should I think you’ll cause her harm in any form, that means you’ll answer to me. How long would you wager your mercenaries can protect you from me?”

“Ah, so you’ve sampled—”

“Uilleam, don’t test me.”

He laughed, sounding genuinely pleased. “If she knew who you were—who you truly were—I wonder if she would still warm your bed?”

Sometimes, Kit wondered the same.

He had done many things he wasn’t proud of, more so before he had joined the Lotus Society. And over the span of the near decade he spent with the organization, the number of targets he had neutralized was a number that would boggle minds.

No, even he didn’t know the answer to that.

“The job,” Kit said, ignoring the rest Uilleam had said. “What is it?”

“He’ll be throwing a masquerade party—a final auction, if you will. Since someone has systematically taken out his associates, he believes it’s in his best interest to go underground. He plans to use the money made off the last of his stock to disappear.”

Kit whistled even as a smile threatened. “All of them? He must be truly desperate.”