Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1)(3)

Squinting from the sudden light hurting his eyes, he blinked repeatedly, waiting for his eyes to adjust as he searched the room for Sarah. As she came into focus, he almost wished he hadn’t.

She was bound, very much like he was, but while he could feel where his lips were cut, and knew from the tightness of his face that it too was bruised, seeing her this way made him ashamed that he hadn’t fought harder, protected her from this.

Tear tracks were stark against her tan cheeks, her eyes wide with fear. A cloth was tied around her mouth, preventing her from speaking, but everything she could have wanted to say was reflected in her face.

Why hadn’t he warned her sooner? Why hadn’t he told her not to wait for him, to save herself?

Yet, while regret weighed heavily on his heart, his attention was stolen by the men entering the room, joining the two that were already inside still wearing masks.

The latest arrivals didn’t bother with them. Trepidation filled Niklaus at what this might mean. He might not have known for sure, but he doubted that these men would allow them to see their faces if they weren’t planning to kill them.

Niklaus tried to make out their faces, hoping that some kind of recognition would hit him--he needed to understand why they had been targeted. His boss down at the construction site in Florida was not always on the right side of the law when it came to his business—not that anyone really cared since he was a pretty decent guy who got the job done—but Niklaus couldn’t imagine that he would be involved with these kind of men.

They seemed too…powerful.

One stood out amongst the others, wearing a long black coat, a suit of charcoal gray beneath it. His eyes were cold, lips turned down in a deep frown, and much like the other men, there was an air of menace that surrounded him. He was obviously the leader, radiating an authority that the others lacked.

“You did well,” he said.

Niklaus could only guess which of the two masked men he was speaking to, but he watched as the pair approached him, one a shade more eager than the other. This one ripped off his mask, his sweat-dampened hair sticking to his forehead, eyes feverish with a hunger that made Niklaus’ stomach turn.

“It was nothing.”

The other, and if Niklaus had to wager, the one that had gotten the best of him, remained off to the side, as if he wasn’t completely a part of this group, and yet was. He reached for his own mask, drawing it up over his face, and unlike the others, his hair wasn’t dark, nor were his eyes the same obsidian colors as most of the others. No, his hair was blond and slightly curly, reaching below his ears, and his eyes were a bright shade of blue.

There were so many emotions in the eyes of the men in this room, from impassiveness to downright excitement—but this one? His were empty.

There was nothing there, and Niklaus sensed if there was one person he should fear, it was him.

He looked like a man that didn’t care whether he live or died.

“Were you seen?”

“Nope,” said the eager one. “They were alone—didn’t even have his guards on him.”

For a moment, the man looked doubtful. “How sure are you of this?”

While the eager one opened his mouth, ready to answer, the man turned to the blond instead, his brows raising as he awaited an answer. Niklaus didn’t miss the eager one losing his manic smile, or that a flash of irritation sparked in his eyes, but as quickly it had formed, it was gone again.

With his arms folded across his chest, the blond glanced over at Niklaus before returning his gaze to his boss. “They were alone. Surprising, considering who he is.”

Who he was?

Was he supposed to be alone?

Those words seemed to be enough for the man. Snapping his fingers, he gestured for another of his lackeys to wheel in a tray from across the room as he shed his coat and suit jacket, passing them off.

“I am Jetmir Besnik of the Besnik family, but I am sure you already know this.”

No, Niklaus had never heard of the man, or whatever family he was talking about, but he didn’t get the opportunity to tell him before the man was speaking again.

“You possess information that I need. If you tell me, I will release you and your lady friend here. If you do not, I will force you to tell me.” His gaze shifted to Sarah whose eyes widened in fear. “By any means necessary. Have you anything to say?”

Swallowing his fear, Niklaus’ eyes darted around the room. “I don’t know who you think I am, but if this is about money, I’ll give you everything I have. We—”

Jetmir sighed, shaking his head as though disappointed, but Niklaus was too confused to do anything more than protest, not even when Jetmir reached for a pair of knives sitting on the tray. Turning them over in his hands, he stepped forward, so close that Niklaus couldn’t help but breathe in the strong scent of his cologne.

“Please,” Jetmir dsid with the slightest of smiles. “I will enjoy this more if you make it difficult for me.”

Niklaus didn’t get the chance to think of a response before a scream of pain ripped free from his mouth as Jetmir stabbed the first knife into the left side of his chest, just beneath his collar bone.

He felt the blade ripping through skin and muscle, but no matter how he struggled, he couldn’t escape the agony and managed to add to it as the ties binding his wrists dug deeper into his flesh.

But before he could recover from the first, Jetmir plunged the second knife parallel to the first.