Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1) (24 page)

“Actually, McCarthy, I’ve heard quite a few troubling things about you in this last week. Understand, when I make a transaction, one such as this, I expect there to be a certain level of professionalism that I now see you lack.”

Donovan cleared his throat, his easiness disappearing as he straightened, never taking his eyes off Elias.

“It’s been handled.”

“There should never have been anything
to
handle, McCarthy, that’s my problem. The terms of our contract were simple. Do not, under any circumstances, draw attention to yourself until our business was complete. And you were doing so well. A shame, really.”

“Whatever you might have heard—”

“I don’t believe it matters now. You violated my contract, and for that, it’s been voided.”

The last words were barely out of his mouth before the men at his sides had their guns pulled with silencers attached at the ends, and in the next breath, had a bullet in each of them, their bodies slumping to the ground.

“Holy shite,” Celt said through the earpiece, probably witnessing the same thing he had.

Niklaus had his finger wrapped around the trigger, readying just in case. There was only a moment, a heartbeat even, where Donovan began to plead, offering anything if the man would spare his life.

A second later, he was on the ground bleeding out as well.

The transaction, as it were, couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes, but in the span of seconds, three men were dead.

Technically, Niklaus’ job was done.

As he watched them, one already going about cleaning up the bodies, the other helping move the cases into the trunk of their waiting car, Elias paused then looked up, directly towards Niklaus, as if he had known he had been there the entire time.

“Red, I believe your name is, please send the Kingmaker my regards. Do let him know that the next time he meddles in my affairs, neither you nor he will be as lucky as you are today. Consider this your warning.”

With that parting remark, Elias slipped into the back of the Jaguar and was driven away, leaving the last man there to attend to the bodies, but it wasn’t long after that another truck pulled up, and within minutes, the scene was cleaned.

Like no one had ever been there.

A
fter Niklaus had gone
, Reagan had been too anxious to go back to sleep, too afraid that before he was able to get back to her, something terrible would have happened. She didn’t doubt that he was capable, she knew from the stories his scars told that he could persevere, but that didn’t help her from thinking of the worst things possible.

Until he had come back.

Until he had walked in and smiled at her as though nothing was wrong, as though he hadn’t left hours ago for a job where he could have been killed.

She knew without a doubt that it wouldn’t ever be easy watching him leave. When he came back to her, whenever that might be, that would make it easier to handle.

During those wee hours of the morning, when she was at home in his arms, she didn’t think she could fear anything else.

T
he next morning
, Niklaus was already gone by the time she woke up, but his side of the bed was still warm so she knew he hadn’t been gone for long.

She had just caught sight of it out her bedroom window as she was turning over, the column of smoke tunneling in the air. Reagan didn’t know why the sight of it made adrenaline kick through her veins, but she knew, just knew that it was the pub.

Not paying attention to the clothes she threw on, Reagan left everything behind as she hurried out, flying down the stairs and out the door as she started in the direction of the pub, nearly taking off at a run as she saw the haze of people far up ahead.

She could see the flames long before she had even gotten close, the smoke dark against the blue sky. The closer she got the more anguish she felt. It wasn’t just a fire, but an end to everything. She had worked so hard for the pub.

Like watching her dreams turn to ash…

“I can fix this,” she whispered to herself, slowing down when she got close, stopping at the edge of the crowd so she could see.

Sure, she had insurance that covered this sort of thing, but sometimes it took months before anything could move forward. If in the case of arson, sometimes it took
years
for the insurance company to complete its investigation.

Considering that she had been late with her payments, they might very well think she was behind this.

No, she just had to remember that it was just a building. Hopefully no one was hurt.

There was a police officer up ahead, taking a statement from a woman gesturing to the building and telling the man what she saw, but before Reagan could head in his direction, something hard and unyielding pressed against her back, just as an arm curved around her shoulders.

“Say a word and I’ll put a bullet in your fucking side.”

She froze at the sound of Liam’s voice, not daring to look at his face.

“Walk with me.”

Reagan did as he asked, following him back around the crowd and down the street, towards the SUV she hadn’t noticed on her way down here.

He had set her up.

He must have purposefully done this to bring her out. Practically forcing her into the backseat, he hardly gave her any room to move as the driver pressed their foot to the gas, the car lurching forward as they took off.

As her fear deepened, she couldn’t help but think she should have called Niklaus before she left.

F
ucking bullshit
.

“What the hell happened?” Niklaus asked as he and Celt reviewed the footage they’d taken at the park with Elias and his men.

Out of seven cameras, none of them had footage they could use to get any more information on Elias. Sure, one could see Donovan just fine, his face coming through perfectly clear, but Elias on the other hand, it was as if someone had erased where his face would be and instead added a blinding light.

“Only ever saw that once,” Celt said as he played the footage back once more, trying to scrub it as though that might help. “A long time ago. It’s a special kind of spray that causes a camera to not pick up a person’s face—better than a mask because no one realizes the cameras can’t see it.”

“So we have nothing on him?”

They had already checked for a license plate on the car, but that too had been blocked out. While knowing his name might have been helpful, they couldn’t find anything on him.

It was as if Elias Harrington didn’t exist.

Celt shook his head. “Did you think this would be easy? If he’s going up against the Kingmaker, he had to be worth half his stones.”

Niklaus grudgingly agreed to that, pulling his phone free from his pocket and he checked the caller ID, surprised to find Mishca’s name flashing back at him.

“What do you need?”

“We have a problem.”

“No shit? We always have a problem, but what is it today?”

“Reagan.”

Niklaus was already on his feet, heading to the elevator before he even finished saying her name. “Talk quickly, Russian.”

“Someone lit up that pub you said she owns. I had Luka go by her place after I heard, but he said she’s not there.”

“Why didn’t he call me?” By the time he made it to his car, Niklaus was in strategy mode.

“I needed him out looking for her as opposed to going back and forth with you about this.”

“Looks to be your Irishman. The other, Rourke, I think that's his name, has already gone into hiding. His father’s remains were found, said to have been suicide.”

Niklaus knew firsthand how untrue that statement was, and since the brothers knew of their father’s meeting, they likely knew that to be true as well.

“If he thought you were dead, and taking into account what happened to his father, he may want someone to answer for it.”

It made sense. “I need a location.”

“He only has so many places in the city he can use. Where would he take her?”

That was the very question Niklaus was asking himself.

L
iam was acting strange
.

Usually, he was calm and collected, careful never to let any emotion betray him, but this…this was the angriest she had ever seen him.

“Why are—”

“Shut up!” She did exactly that. “I had it handled. Everything was under my control until you started fucking that Russian.”

He came towards her, backing her into a corner, the barrel of his gun pressed against the underside of her chin.

“You played innocent with me, but you spread your legs like a slag the minute he came around. What? Did you prefer married men?”

Reagan was confused, not understanding what he was getting at, until it suddenly dawned on her. He thought Niklaus and Mishca were one in the same.

“You know, I don’t think so.”

They both turned at the new voice, and Reagan was tempted to feel ease at the sight of Luka walking through the entryway, but from what she could see, he didn’t have a weapon on him. Nor did he wear a vest like the one Niklaus wore.

“I like to think that those two are different.”

“Who the feck are you?” Liam demanded, grabbing hold of Reagan’s arms and yanking her to his side.

“Luka. Valon. Different names to different people. Take your pick, I won’t be offended—but I’ll warn you on who you call out for, you maybe won’t like who answers.”

“Whoever you are, I suggest you stay behind the line or I’ll put a bullet in your skull.”

“It’s been a while since I got shot so…”

The first time she had been around Luka, she had been confused by the split personality he seemed to have, issuing threats one moment, spouting random things the next.

This time, now that she was on the other side of it, she could see what he was doing, the careful ploy of keeping Liam focused on one thing as opposed to what Liam was actually doing.

With each step that Luka took, Liam countered it, subconsciously moving them in a circle, but soon, Liam realized what was happening.

Instead of leaving the gun trained on Luka, who didn’t seem bothered by it at all, he turned it on Reagan instead. And this time, Luka actually had a reaction to it.

“I wouldn’t fucking do that.”

“No? And what the feck are you going to do about it?”

“There’ll be a hollow tip bullet lodged into your thick ass skull. That work for you?”

“I’d have you shot dead before you could grab your piece.”

“Are you sure about that, McCarthy? I would be very sure of that before you go off making promises.”

Now, Liam had the gun aimed back at Luka.

“Try it, you Russian shithead.”

“First, I’m Albanian—different, yes? Second, you made only one mistake today,” he said as he lowered his hands, his shoulders relaxing as though the danger was over, as though Liam wasn’t readying to shoot her in the head because of him.

“Yeah?” Liam returned, his grip on her tightening. “What was that?”

Luka’s chin jerked up. “You stepped in front of that window.”

Silence followed that statement, as Reagan was just as confused as Liam had to be, but as she tried to make sense of what he was saying, there was the sharp sound of glass splintering, the Liam jerked hard, blood spraying them both.

Yelping in surprise, she tried to scramble out of the way as Liam fell forward, slamming into the ground, blood spanning out beneath his head. The glass behind them was still intact, with the lone exception of a small hole where a bullet had gone through.

“Huh,” Luka said, looking from the body to the window. “Remind me to get bulletproof windows.” Then, as though there wasn’t a dead man lying in a pool of blood, he asked, “Ready?”

Reagan took one last look at Liam, and almost felt bad that she wasn’t feeling more horror at the fact that he was dead and the man she loved had taken his life.

No, she only felt relieved.

By the time they made it outside of the building, she could see Niklaus running towards her. He didn’t stop until he had her swept up in his arms.

“How did you get here so fast?” she mumbled into the side of his neck, her eyes closed as she held him tight.

“A little bird hacked the security cameras.”

“That
fast
?”

Niklaus shrugged. “You don’t know Winter.”

“I’m going to go clean up the body,” Luka called with a wave of his hand as he headed back inside the building.

“What happened to Rourke?”

“If he’s smart, he’s back in Ireland hoping the borders can protect him. And you already know about the father.”

He had told her all about it, though she was sure he had left out a number of details. But she hadn’t called him on this one—she didn’t think she wanted details as to how a man died.

“And now they won’t be a problemanymore.”

Not for her. Nor Jimmy. Nor anyone else that was being hustled by the pair of brothers.

In mere weeks, Niklaus had solved another problem for her.

He had always been rather good at that.

“Do you have another job?” she asked as he set her back on her feet, gazing up. “Are you leaving again?”

She might not have known what jobs he had been on before, so she hadn’t seen the beginning or the end, but now she was right in the middle of it.

“Not if I’m staying with you.”

She smiled. “What exactly are you asking?”

His lips tilted up into a smile that made her heart ache with happiness. “A few nights, or all of them. Your choice.”

She had never been able to resist him, not then, and definitely not now.

“
T
here a reason
you needed to disrupt my day, Volkov,” Niklaus asked as he joined his brother in his McLaren, already pulling on his seatbelt though they had yet to pull off.

He didn’t trust anyone’s driving but his own.

“I owed you a debt. An apology was never good enough, so I had to do something else.”

Niklaus just stared at his twin. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Mishca didn’t respond, merely putting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb. If Niklaus wasn’t already confused as to what was happening, it only got worse. Not only was this out of the ordinary for him—they had mended bridges though they still didn’t go out of their way to be around each other—but he was driving, and as far as Niklaus could tell, he didn’t have any of his muscle trailing them.

If it was anyone else, Niklaus might have thought that he was being taken to his death or at the very least an ambush. Though the McCarthy family was taken care of, and the man Niklaus had been tasked with finding was in the wind, he still had a meeting with the Kingmaker to tell him everything that had gone down.

He wouldn’t put it past his handler to orchestrate this just to fuck with him.

Except, they pulled over at a brownstone in a suburban neighborhood where there were people out walking their dogs, jogging, or other such things.

Mishca still didn’t explain as he killed the engine and climbed out, fully expecting Niklaus to follow behind him. His curiosity piqued, he did.

Producing a key, Mishca unlocked the residence, stepping out of the way with a nod of his head for Niklaus to go ahead of him.

“Are you going to explain, or do you want me to guess?” Niklaus asked as he walked in, the scent of freshly painted walls greeting him.

The space was fully decorated in warm neutrals, and looked lived in already despite how new everything looked. He heard voices coming from what he thought was the kitchen, Reagan he could tell, and Lauren from the soft laughter. And somebody else, but he couldn’t make out the voice.

“What, you bought me a place?” Niklaus asked. While he would never admit it aloud, the place was pretty nice. “Sorry, Russian, I don’t need it.”

“Not for you,” he said pocketing his keys. “Someone else.”

“Then who—”

The question was answered when his gaze moved to the three people that were walking in from the doorway across the room.

“I didn’t need all of this.”

“We know,” Lauren was saying, “but you deserve this.”

The woman Lauren was talking to was tiny, probably shorter than even Alex, with silver hair neatly smoothed into a bun at the nape of her neck. Wrinkles were abundant in her face from a lifetime of laughter and hard work. She had kind eyes, ones that had never looked at Niklaus with anything other than love and acceptance. While she had never hid the fact that she had adopted him—though she never told him the full story as to who and where he came from—she had never treated him as anything other than her son.

His mother, a woman he hadn’t seen in years, stood across the room from him.

It almost felt like his chest was breaking open.

“
Mama
?”

Malvina Antakova looked to him then, her face splitting into the softest, but most honest smiles he had ever seen. He could just see the tears in her eyes as she crossed the floor towards him.

He was halfway to her when he stopped and dropped to his knees to make up for their height difference.

Since his training, Niklaus had feared he didn’t know if he was capable of tears, thinking it had been beaten out of him, but as he felt the arms of his mother close around him, he could feel the lump in his throat, the sting in the back of his eyes.

“
Syn moy
—my son,” he heard whispered above him, the words taking him back to early mornings in the Florida heat as he happily went along with her to a job not wanting her to be alone.

Or the nights when it was just the pair of them at home, sitting in the living room with pizza, even though she hated the taste of it.

But she ate with him, because he enjoyed it.

Laughed with him when he needed it most.

Loved him when no one else would.

“I didn’t believe him, you know,” Malvina said pulling away after a moment, lifting her hands to cradle his face. “How could you have been okay after all these years?”

She looked between them, Niklaus and Mishca. “The resemblance really is uncanny. Catja would have loved to see her boys together again.”

In the twenty-one years that he had lived with her, she had never mentioned that name, and judging from the way Mishca stood a little bit straighter, a flash of pain in his eyes, Niklaus knew that Catja had been their mother.

“She worried,” Malvina said sadly, “that the life Mikhail wanted for you two would ultimately tear you apart. So, she gave me you, Niklaus, to love and raise—give you the freedom you might not have had otherwise.”

Whatever ill feelings he might have had towards Catja drifted away at his mother’s words. No one could have predicted what would come of it, and that despite her best efforts, they had ultimately been torn apart.

But Malvina didn’t need to know that.

Getting back to his feet, Niklaus looked to Reagan who was standing not too far away, and unlike him, she was crying freely, quickly wiping at her eyes, however, when she noticed his attention on her.

With one arm still around Malvina, he held his hand out to Reagan and waited. Wordlessly, she joined him at his side.

He didn’t know what Malvina would say about her. She knew better than anyone in this room how he had felt about Sarah.

“Such a sweet girl, your Reagan,” Malvina said instantly. “Stayed with me during the entire flight, though she didn’t tell me you needed a haircut.”

She reached for his hair, and he had to bend at the waist to give her access to what she wanted. As quickly as she had touched the ends of it, she turned a narrowed gaze on Mishca.

“You too, Mishca.” She asked, making her head. “It’s grown too long.”

Lauren smiled up at her husband, waiting to see his reaction just as Niklaus did.

The man in question just shrugged. “Let me know and I’ll let you have at it. Now, we’ll give you all some time before Lauren comes back with Sacha. She told me how you’ve been ready to meet your grandson.”

Malvina’s eyes lit up, and Niklaus knew it wasn’t just because of the prospect of meeting Sacha, but the casual way he had included her in the family.

Releasing his hold on his mother and Reagan, Niklaus walked back over to Mishca and didn’t hesitate in hugging him. Mishca grew stiff, but after a moment, he returned the embrace.

It had only taken twenty-seven years, but they had finally embraced as family should.

“Thank you,
brat
.”

It was the first, and probably the last time, Niklaus would ever call Mishca, ‘brother,’ but in that moment, that was how he felt.

With just this simple gesture, though Niklaus couldn’t express the magnitude of it in words, Niklaus finally let it all go.

The anger.

The frustration.

The hatred.

This meant the world to him.

“No worries,” Mishca said for only him to hear. “You deserve this.”

Clapping him on the back, Mishca pulled away, grabbing hold of Lauren’s hand. When Niklaus looked to her, she winked, a knowing smile curling her lips. She had always promised that the feud between them would end, and he hadn’t believed her.

She was right.

As they made their leave, Niklaus turned back to his two favorite women. Rubbing the back of his neck, he knew it was about to be a long night. “Where do I start?”

Malvina got comfortable on the couch, patting the spot next to her. “Start at the beginning.”

“
F
or someone
that hasn’t had a permanent place in years, you’ve accumulated a lot of junk,” Reagan said as she looked around at the sheers amount of organized boxes that were lined throughout that storage room.

Day after day, she had woken up to the sight of him next to her, sometimes asleep, other times awake, his sleepy gaze on her. In that time, she had stopped worrying that one morning she would wake up and he would be gone.

If he did leave for longer than twenty-four hours—and that had happened on a few occasions—he let her know beforehand.

For good or bad, he was there with her, and she couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Nevertheless, that didn’t mean she had been ready for the clusterfuck of unpacking that awaited them. He had long since already moved himself in, yet he kept all of his possessions in one of seventeen warehouses he kept around the city.

Some were full of weapons, she remembered him saying once, others filled with other such things that she didn’t really want to think about considering he said it was ‘need to know.’

Except one, one he’d said was filled with more personal belongings—things he had collected over his travels, and even a few mementos from his life before becoming a mercenary. It was the suitcase, the same one he had brought along with his to New York City that first time.

He had given her everything he possibly could. His name, his memories, his experiences, and everything else, even if it was hard to hear.

And now, there was just this one final step…one simple task before it was done and he was fully integrated into her life.

“Not junk, babe,” Niklaus said as he walked past, touching a few of the boxes along the way, as if it reminded him as to what was inside each one.

“Right, you won’t be saying that when we have to go through all of this later—never mind the number of trips it’s going to take to get this all back to our place.”

“Are you always this moody?”

“Only after I find out I’m pregnant.”

Whatever shuffling he had been doing before silenced as her words sunk in. She smiled to herself, glad that she had done it this way instead of making a big production out of it.

Something to share just between the two of them, she couldn’t deny the small thrill that shot through her at his surprise.

Turning to face him, she didn’t know what to expect—happiness, anger, confusion—but the expression on his face was far better than she could have hoped.

Wonderment.

He looked excited, fearful even, but the sight of his face so open made her smile, even as she waited for him to respond.

“You’re pregnant,” he said evenly, his voice not shaking in the slightest, but the words were whispered like he was too afraid to really say them any louder.

Reagan nodded, her hand going to her stomach even though she wasn’t close to showing. “Eight weeks tomorrow.”

She had only found out a mere week ago when she had gone to the doctor after feeling like she didn’t want to eat anything for fear of throwing up. But ever since she had found out that warning, she had wondered how best to tell Niklaus.

It wasn’t like they had ever talked about having children, and while Niklaus doted on Sacha, that still didn’t mean
he
was ready to be a father.

But with one look at him now, she didn’t know why she had waited this long.

“There’s no point in moving this shit in,” Niklaus said looking around. “We’re going to need a bigger place.”

“Niklaus—”

“We can stay in Hell’s Kitchen if you want, or we can leave the city. Like I said, whatever you want.”

“Niklaus!” Reagan said his name again on a laugh, finally grabbing his attention. “You’re not upset then?”

He tugged her into his arms, kissing her forehead a second before he gave her a kiss that took her breath away. “Of course not,” he murmured against her lips. “Why would I be upset?”

“Because it may be too soon and—”

“Nothing could have made me happier than you telling me you loved me, but this…this tops that.”

“So you’re happy?” Reagan asked once more, smiling as she thought of what he would say next.

“Thrilled.”

“So you’ll still be happy even when I tell you there are two?”

It was only a moment of suspended time before his lips were splitting into the biggest of grins and he laughed that loud, glorious laugh of his.

It was a happy sound.

And Reagan was glad she could make him happy.