Nix. (Den of Mercenaries Book 3)(74)

After the silence came blaring, high-pitched noise that was loud enough to create an instant headache. Then came the lights that flashed so bright one’s pupils dilated painfully, and only after long, agony filled seconds did it all start over again, creating a vicious cycle of discomfort that broke even the strongest of people down.

Most that came to this place seeking the benefits were already broken to a point that nothing could have been worse than what they had already experienced—and ultimately, the Silent Room had helped to center them instead.

There had been one, Luna remembered vividly, that hadn’t responded well to the room. They hadn’t known at the time, because he had been rather calm when it was time for his release, but the second the door was opened, he attacked with a vengeance, wounding seven before he was finally tranquilized.

His demons didn’t just find him in the dark—they were constantly winding him up.

Syn, his name was.

“Recovering,” Zachariah answered as they rounded the corner toward his office. “I thought you would have known.”

She hadn’t seen much of Uilleam in the weeks since the shooting. Kit was being paranoid, explaining that whoever had come after Uilleam could have been targeting his family, and he wanted to keep her safe.

If it were up to him, he would have kept her locked away in his safe house instead of at the Den.

Thankfully, Zachariah had called with an assignment for her, and only after he explained that it was merely a request to find someone and nothing more, he agreed that she could do it—which both amused and frustrated her.

Despite who she was married to, she wanted to keep the two separate. Though her relationship to Uilleam was never spoken about, Kit wouldn’t hide who he was to her should he ever come to the compound.

And while she was never, and could never, be ashamed of him, Luna still wanted to be more than just the Facilitator’s wife.

Once they reached Zachariah’s office, he allowed her to go ahead of him before he came in behind, closing the door and setting the alarm, as he always did when he brought someone into his office—his way of preventing leaks.

Whether they talked amongst themselves was one thing, but when he handed out assignments, Zachariah made sure it was only to the one listed on the contract.

“I have a job for you,” he said as he handed her a familiar manila folder, then sticking a thumb drive into the port in his desk.

Almost immediately, a projector flickered on, and the very documents Luna was reading with the folder were now displayed on the wall.

“The client’s name is Belladonna.”

“That’s a great name,” Luna muttered to herself, glancing over the woman’s profile.

A woman with an affliction for using the drug belladonna to kill those that stood in her way.

Luna liked her already.

But there was little more information offered about the woman. Usually, the clients were thoroughly vetted and their histories could be traced back decades.

Luna’s curiosity was piqued.

“What’s the assignment?” she found herself asking, the second time within two months.

“She’s looking for someone—Andrei Kanekov. Our intelligence tells us he hasn’t been on the grid financially for the last four years, but his face has popped up within a few databases. Your job is to find him.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

And it did, but Luna was still a little curious about the woman who only seemed to have a name and an affinity for poisons.



Sitting in the lobby of the building where she was meant to wait for Belladonna, Luna couldn’t help looking around the place and the sheer beauty of it.

Her offices were mostly steel and glass, with the decors in shades of gray and white. Even the floors were made of a white marble with veins of gray.

It was the click of heels that had Luna looking up at the woman walking toward her, a pair that she wouldn’t have thought possible to walk in until she saw it.

Unlike the rest of the women in the office, she wasn’t wearing bright, fun colors, instead a black pencil skirt, and a sheer and sleeveless blouse that was nearly as dark as her skirt.

Wavy brown hair was bound in an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck, pearl earrings adorning her ears.

“Calavera,” she greeted with a friendly, though secretive smile. “A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance—I’ve heard great things.”

Luna wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. “Belladonna?”

She nodded. “As good a name as any, I suppose. Please, let’s speak in my office.”

Her office was located one floor up, only accessed by a private elevator hidden inside a storage closet.

“I appreciate your enduring my security measures, but you can understand my discretion as an employee of the Kingmaker’s.”

“Sure.”

Over the years, she had seen a great many things when it came to the individuals that sought the aid of Uilleam. They all had peculiar habits, especially when it came to avoiding unwanted attention.

Though this was far more elaborate than anything she had seen thus far, she wasn’t surprised by it.

Belladonna’s office was blindingly white, from the marble flooring, to the massive desk, and even the vase of roses set on top, but curiously, there was a blue rose nestled in the center of the bouquet.