Nix. (Den of Mercenaries Book 3)(68)

“D’you hear that?” Kit demanded to Fang, already hearing him telling the others to gear up. “Find Luna and take her to the safe house, no matter what she says. Do not fail in this.”

“On it.”

Fang hung up without another word.

Kit tossed his phone in the cup holder and pressed his foot harder against the gas.



If Luna were ever inclined to smoke, now would be a choice time.

It hadn’t been more than a minute between the biker driving off and an ambulance screeching to a stop near where Luna kneeled next to Uilleam.

From the second those back doors came open and a pair jumped out the back in scrubs, she followed their orders blindly, scrambling into the ambulance after Uilleam was loaded.

She watched helplessly as his clothes were cut out of the way, an IV placed into his arm, as well as a tube down his throat.

He’s gonna be fine.

He’s gonna be fine.

He’s gonna be fine.

She repeated the words over and over to herself as they barreled through the streets, so fast that she was surprised everything wasn’t knocking over in the process.

They drove for another twenty minutes before she heard a metal garage door being lifted and they came to a stop on the other side of it.

She quickly climbed out the back, her gaze seizing on the sectioned off space in the middle of the room. Thick plastic curtains stood around a hospital bed, along with machines that Luna didn’t know the name of—like a typical hospital room, but in the middle of a warehouse.

Skorpion had pulled up not too much later, on the phone with who she thought was Zachariah, but she couldn’t look away from Uilleam as they removed the rest of his clothes once they got him settled on the table.

Toward the end, Lawrence had begged for his life, just as so many others, but despite their blood having been all around her, she hadn’t been moved by the sight of it.

But as she felt the grit on her hands, remembering the slippery warmth of Uilleam’s blood spilling over her fingers, she was dangerously close to either freaking out, or bursting into tears.

“He’ll be fine,” Skorpion said joining her as he stuffed his phone in his pocket.

She wanted to believe that—she really did. “I counted at least three,” she said softly, watching as Uilleam’s chest was cracked open. “He’s—”

“Too f*cking stubborn to die—trust me. He’d stay alive just to spite whoever did this.”

Luna blew out a breath. “Who the hell was that?”

Four years next to Kit had shown her a world of killers and specialists, but none of them had been nearly as skilled as the man that had managed to get the drop on them.

At his distance, he should have missed at least one of the shots he fired. In actuality, he had landed his mark each time, and worse, fired through a car to connect with Uilleam.

He was good.

Skorpion shrugged. “I have no f*cking idea, but I’ll find out.”

And if anyone could, it would be Skorpion.

Freight doors slamming open made Luna jump, but the doctors barely glanced away from their patient. There was no mistaking the four walking into the warehouse, not with the masks they wore.

“Fang? How did you—”

“Time for you to go,” came his robotic, disembodied voice because of whatever program they used to conceal their voices.

Their attention didn’t stray from her despite a quick assessing glance of Skorpion. Despite the chaos on the other side of the room, they didn’t seem fazed by it.

It was clear she was their mission.

But she didn’t care about it, not a bit. “I’m not leaving.”

“The objective is to move you to a safe house.”

“That’s not happening,” she returned with a sharp shake of her head. “Not until he’s okay.”

Fang didn’t repeat himself, and she knew without a doubt that if she didn’t move within the next two minutes, he was going to move her himself.

Before she could warn him not to try that, Skorpion laid a hand on her shoulder. “Go. The second I know something, I’ll let you know.”

Grinding her teeth, Luna conceded, glancing over at Uilleam as she moved to Fang’s side. There was no point in fighting it. “Fine.”

Pocketing her keys, Luna headed for the doors the Wild Bunch had come out of. Thanatos walked ahead of her, Invictus behind, with Fang and T?cut on wither side. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought it was her life that'd been threatened.

Thanatos put his phone to his ear once the gates closed and said, “Package secure. Two hours out.”

“Is that K—”

Before she could ask, he hung up, stowing the device away. It had been a while since she had been around their group, but she had forgotten how serious they could be when they were on the job.

Downstairs, there was a Challenger at the curb, and what looked like a massive moving truck.

“Don’t worry,” Fang said as he shuffled her into the back of the muscle car. “Your bike’s in the truck.”

She could tell she was in for a long ride, but she hadn't realized they were heading out of the city, or that they weren't going for his chateau.

Knowing better than to ask—they rarely told her anything—Luna figured it would be best for her to wait and see once they arrived. Even after all these years, she still couldn’t say just how many properties Kit owned in New York, let alone the rest of the world.