I laugh while jockeying my position to keep him back. Except, I step on an abandoned staff, and when my footing falters, he turns the tables.
I scream and turn my back on the dousing. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I try to run, but there’s no escape. My hair is stuck to my face in wet strands, and thanks to me slipping and going down on one knee, I’m muddy and gross.
“Say it, Cumhaill.” Sloan laughs. “Forfeit the fight. Tell me I win.”
“In your dreams.” I hold up my hands to block the attack. Water sprays up my nose, and I try not to choke. “No one gets a forfeit from me.”
“Technically, that’s not true,” Liam calls from behind the back gate. “You surrendered to me that summer when we all went to Center Island.”
The interruption in our mayhem halts the hosing on the spot. Sloan’s laughter stops and the first truly unguarded moment with him comes to a crashing halt. It’s a shame.
Waterlogged, I wave Liam inside the gate. “Hey, come on in. You’re safe.”
“Am I interrupting?” Liam casts a disapproving glance at Sloan and me.
I hold my hands out to Sloan, and he sprays off the mud and grass. “I was overheating during training and decided to cool Sloan off.”
Sloan wraps the hose back into its coils and then goes back to pick up the staffs. “I assure you, she got the worst of it.” He steps toward the house and looks down at himself.
“Yeah, don’t even think about traipsing that mess into my house.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Who needs to traipse when they can portal?” Then he’s gone.
“Show off,” I shout at the house. Honestly, I wish I could portal myself into my shower and peel off these clothes without making a mess through the house.
I stomp into the back mudroom, toe off my shoes, and grab a beach towel from the cabinet above the dryer. Growing up, Ma never let us come inside soaking wet, so I’m a pro at wrapping myself in a towel and peeling off wet clothes without getting nakey in front of the boys.
When I turn back, all nestled in my towel, Liam is staring. “What? Have I got mud on my face?”
“No, but I think you might have mush for brains.”
“Me? Why?”
He steps closer and leans in, his scowl increasing as he counts off on his fingers. “One, that guy’s a pompous dick. Two, he assaulted you. Three, he’s leaving tonight, isn’t he?”
I step back, gaining some distance from the testosterone poisoning smacking me in the face. “Who pissed in your whiskey?”
It’s not like Liam to go off on me. In fact, I don’t think he’s gone off on me since we were kids and fighting over trucks in the sandbox.
I lift my fingers and count them back to him. “One, Sloan’s not that bad once you get past the pompous dick part. Two, it was a test, not an assault. Truth be told, he got the worse end of things during that test because he wouldn’t fight back. And three, yeah, he’s leaving tonight after he transfers Da and the boys their powers. So, what?”
Liam makes a face, and I honestly don’t get what’s crawled up his ass. After a moment, he shrugs and shakes it off. “So, nothing, I guess.”
I’ve been surrounded by men my whole life. You’d think I’d understand them better. Nope. It’s a Mars versus Venus moment happening here.
He roughly exhales and when he meets my gaze, the Liam I know and love is back. “My bad. Sorry, Fi. I’m still freaked about you running off to Ireland without telling me, then the druid thing, and you disappearing for months when we didn’t know…”
The pain in his eyes melts my annoyance. I realize that in the two days since my return, with Brendan’s death, talking druid stuff with the boys and Sloan, and getting my bear settled, Liam and I haven’t spent any downtime together.
I meet him for a hug. “I’m sorry you were scared. If there were any way to get back here sooner or let you know where I was, I would have. S’all good now, though.”
He presses his cheek to the top of my head, and most of his tension dissolves. “You’re forgiven. Just don’t go getting yourself kidnapped by leprechauns again.”
I giggle and step back. “No promises. Hey, are you here for a bit?”
“Yeah, I need to talk to you. This got delivered to my phone and I wondered if you’d seen it yet.”
I read the headline of the Global News story and close my eyes. “Feckin’ hell. Put on the kettle. I’ll get cleaned up and be right down.”
Chapter Twenty
“Sloan, I need you.” I straighten from calling over the railing into the basement and plunk back into my seat in the kitchen. Liam hands me a mug with tea and honey. I take a sip, staring at the screen of my laptop. “This is so bad.”
As much as I want Liam to argue and tell me I’m over-reacting, he doesn’t.
Sloan’s long stride takes the stairs two at a time, and he joins us seconds later. He stalks right up to me, holds out his phone, and smiles. “Would ye mind sayin’ that again? I want to keep it for posterity.”
“What? Oh.” I laugh and shove his phone away. “Not a chance. Knowing you, me needing you will be twisted into something torrid, and I’ll get a reputation in Ireland as your new world chippie.”
He blinks. “I don’t have chippies.”
“Ha! I met Ciara. She is a disgruntled chippie.” Before he can get a comeback out, I point at the screen. “So, how does the Ancient Order handle it when a druid’s animal companion mauls and kills three people?”
Sloan bends down to read the article. “Feckin’ hell.”
“Exactly what I said.”
“Och, this is bad.”
“Ye think?”
Sloan straightens and scrubs rough fingers through his damp hair. “This is way over my pay grade. Those weren’t fae he killed. They were humans. We need to call Lugh.”
“What? No. There’s no way I’m telling him that less than seventy-two hours after I get back to the city, I lost control of my bear and he killed three people.”
Three bad people.
I jump out of my seat and look around the kitchen. I don’t see him, but he’s here. “Where are you, bear? Living room, right now. I want to see your furry face while I explain a few things to you about how things are done around here.”
Our house only has a few rooms big enough for a massive brown bear to materialize. The living room is the closest place we can have this discussion until I sort through some of the clutter in the rest of the house.
The first thing I did when we got home was to enlist Dillan’s and Emmet’s help to move my furniture and make space in my room. As I’m rounding the corner from the kitchen to the hallway, Da and Aiden storm in the front.
“Fiona Kacee Cumhaill,” Da snaps, fighting mad. “Have ye any idea what’s been happening in mid-town this morning? Three Thorncliff Thugs were found ripped to ribbons—”
“Yep. Just found out. I’m on it.”
My bear materializes in the living room, and he’s a bloody mess. His fur is mucked up and matted, and there’s a chunk of his ear missing. He had the good sense to hang his head and look abashed.
I didn’t want ye to see me like this, Red. Sorry.
“Are you sorry for what you did or sorry you got caught?” I blink and look at my father. “How many times have you said those words to me?”
“Too many times to count.”
“Anyway.” I get back on point. “First off, are you all right? Are you hurt?”
No.
“Okay, good. Now, what the hell happened? I sent you to see if you could find the skull-trimmed lurker, not start a gang war and kill people.”
I found the male—
I hold up a finger. “You better speak out loud. I don’t feel like playing telephone and relaying it all back.”
He growls at me but does as I ask. “I found the male who stared at us at the pub. I followed him north. He traveled up a great black river of highway. It wound its way through treed lands and under massive metal bridges span
ning great wildlands.”
“That’s the DVP,” Aiden identifies.
I nod. “So, he took the Don Valley Parkway north. What happened then?”
“He met three other males in a secluded black clearing surrounded by woods.”
“Seaton Park,” Da says. “It’s busy throughout the day, but at two in the morning, not many people use the bike paths and archery range. The parking lot would’ve been very secluded when he was there.”
“Okay, so four men meet up. What did they say?”
“Nothing intelligible.”
Da crosses his arms over his chest, and I smile. My father might be pushing fifty-three, but he is fit and stronger than most. A fact I’m reminded of often when one of my few girlfriends comes over. Ew but true.
“Let us decide what makes sense, bear. We have a better understanding of the vernacular.”
My bear dips his chin. “The one from the pub told the other three he had information for them. He said the man they knew as Jimmy Blue wasn’t an ex-Cliffside Crip like they thought—he was a pig. They didn’t seem to take that well.”
“No. I suppose they wouldn’t.”
“Then, he said he came from an entire family of cops. He told them to tell their boss to wipe out the lot of ye and send a message that undercovers will regret messing with them. I understood enough to know he was talking about yer family and wasn’t about to let that happen.”
“Shit.” Sloan leans against the frame of the entranceway. “He marked ye for execution?”
“But only three bodies were recovered,” Da says.
“True. When I intervened, the man from the pub vanished. I searched for his scent after but found no trace of him.”
“Is that where you were all night?” I imagine my bear searching the woods and the wilds of the Don Valley for a man out to destroy our family.
Bear waves a huge, clawed paw and shakes his head. “Och, no. I found a couple of black bear sows with willing natures and beautifully broad haunches. They kept me occupied until the wee hours.”
Aiden chuckles. “We should call you Badass Bear.”
“No, we shouldn’t,” I disagree. “So, while I was worried sick and imagining the worst, you were—”
“There’s no such thing as a walk of shame,” Aiden cuts in. “You took out the trash, then got the girls in true Cumhaill fashion. Good one, Bear.”
I throw my hands up, but no one seems to notice.
Aiden shrugs. “What? The universe rewarded him for making the city a safer place.”
“The Killer Clawbearer appreciates yer respect.”
That does it. “Okay, no. The names you’re choosing are bad enough. Now you’re referring to yourself in the third person. Not happening. From now on, you’re not Bruinior the Beast or Badass Bear, or the Killer Clawbearer. Your name is Kyle Cumhaill.”
“Kyle?” Sloan says. “What kind of name is that?”
“It’s the perfect name. We can say it in public without drawing attention, and it doesn’t inspire images of brutality and carnage.”
“Kyle isn’t the name of an ancient spirit totem,” Sloan snaps. “It’s common and passive.”
“Exactly,” I say, surer of my decision by the moment. “Kyle was a friend of mine at my first job. He ate vegan foods and never lost his temper. He certainly didn’t go around eviscerating gangers. Everyone likes a Kyle.”
“I hate it already,” the bear says.
“Good. Then, it’s settled. Kyle it is.”
Da has a muddled expression on his face. I can’t decide if he’s frustrated or relieved.
“A bit of both,” he says when I ask him. “While I’ll not mourn the loss of any of the gang members involved in us losing Brendan, I don’t like the fact that someone has their sights set on this family. I thank ye, Bear, fer stoppin’ the ones ye did, but the trouble won’t end there.”
“Who’s the guy gunning for you and why?” Liam asks.
Da scrubs a hand over his face and exhales. “That’s what we need to figure out. Fi, you’re the only one who saw Skull Trim. Do you think if you sat down with Kevin you can work up a sketch?”
“I think so.” I look at Sloan. “Calum’s partner is an artist, and he’s really good.”
Da points at Liam. “Text Calum and ask him to arrange that as soon as he can. Once we have an idea of who’s shadowing our door, we’ll have a better understanding of our next move. We need to close ranks for the next while.”
“What I don’t get,” Aiden responds, “is how did Skull Trim connect us with Brendan being undercover? The shooter didn’t kill him because he was blown. Brenny stepped into the line of fire. That shouldn’t have led back to us in any way.”
Da frowns. “I’ll have a chat with Brendan’s captain. Maybe if we put our heads together, we can figure out how the man at the wake found us.”
“If it were me,” I begin. “I would’ve started with the coroner’s office. If this guy was watching Brenny or the gang, he’d know where the shooting was and where his body would end up. If he connected Brendan to the funeral home, it wouldn’t take much to find his obit and trace it back to us.”
“Ye make a fine detective, Fi. That’s sound logic. It could be that, or maybe our stalker knew who he was all the time and stirred the pot. I’ll see what I can find out. In the meantime, I want ye to keep yer trainin’ up. I’ll not have ye venturin’ off to the grocery store on yer own and gettin’ into trouble.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Liam states. “I’ll shadow her during the day while everyone’s at work.”
I shake my head. “I appreciate the need to circle the wagons, but I’m the one with magic and a vigilante bear inside me. I’m more worried about you guys being vulnerable out on the street, and Kinu and the kids.”
Aiden grimaces at the mention of his family.
Liam rolls his eyes at me. “Of course, you are Fi. You wouldn’t be you if everyone else weren’t your first impulse. Remember, though. You’re not indestructible. When danger rears its ugly head, normal people duck for cover. You stand up straight and walk into the line of fire.”
“This.” Aiden points at Liam and nods.
“Exactly like Brendan.” Da heads to the bar. He pours himself a tall glass of liquid sedation and takes a few deep gulps. “Ye did us a grand favor last night, Bear. I’ll ask ye to do me another. Protect wee Fiona here from herself. She’s reckless and headstrong and the beating heart of this ragtag family.”
“I’ll protect her with my life, Da. I swear it.”
Da? Seriously? Ha! Forget Killer Clawbearer. His name should be Furry Ass-kisser. I look at the sad state of my disheveled bear and sigh. “Come outside, you big furball. I’ll get the hose and clean you up.”
It’s nearly ten that night when Emmet and Calum get off shift and walk in the door carrying three pizzas and a case of Canadian. I point at the beer, and Sloan takes the hint while I grab the boxes. “We’re downstairs. Get changed and join us when you’re ready.”
They both unlace their boots and tear up the stairs like a couple of kids. “Don’t start without us.”
“How can we start without you when you’re part of the transfer, dumbass?” I turn back to the stairs and Sloan is staring. “What did I do now?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. I was thinking about going home and wondering what life will be like without you in it.”
I laugh. “Boring.
“Very likely.”
“And so, I want ye all to be extra cautious,” Da warns after giving the boys the lowdown on what Kyle learned and did up in Seton Park. “It isn’t a bad idea to stick close to home and avoid friends fer a few weeks too. If we’re the targets of retaliation, that’s on us. I don’t want innocent citizens getting caught in the crossfire.”
There’s a round of bobbing heads of agreement.
“I don’t want to leave Kady alone.” Dillan is sitting on the three-seater with Liam and Calum. “If I’m here, there’s no one there to
watch out for her.”
Da nods. “If she’ll come, have her stay here with us for a bit. She’ll be better protected when yer on shift if she’s in this house. Liam offered to make himself available to escort the girls through the day fer a few weeks. We’ll be takin’ him up on that with our thanks.”
Liam nods. “Of course.”
“Da,” I protest. “I don’t—”
“Humor me, Fi. I’m not askin’ him to keep ye safe. I’m well aware yer capable. I simply don’t want ye alone and taken or hurt without someone else bein’ aware. After the past two months and losin’ Brendan, I need ye to give me this one without a fight, mo chroi.”
The same pleading look hits me from every male in the room. There are moments when I forget that while I was playing video games and learning dance routines to Elvis Presley hits, my family suffered seven weeks of not knowing where I was or if I was alive or dead.
“Fine. I’ll play the buddy system like a good girl.”
“Good then,” Da approves. “That settles that. If something happens or doesn’t feel right, I don’t want any of ye takin’ chances. Call and let us know and we face it together, understood? Respect the danger this could raise.”
I stiffen. “Why is everyone still looking at me?”
Da continues. “Sloan erected wards around the house this afternoon, and I’ve asked him to stay on a few more days. He’ll be here to get ye started on yer paths and to keep workin’ with Fi. If yer not on duty or sleepin’, yer here trainin’, understood?”
We all nod.
“I’ll not lose another one of ye to the evils of this world. It’s a blessed gift that we know what’s comin’ fer us and we’ll not waste it.”
Emmet rises from the club chair and holds his beer up toward my bear sitting on his haunches on the basement rug. “To Kyle. Thank you for having our backs, man. Glad you took down some of the bastards involved in Brendan’s end. And congrats on the threesome, buddy. Two days in town and you score a woodland ménage. Well deserved. Glad to have you as part of Clan Cumhaill. Slainte mhath.”
“Slainte mhath,” we all echo and raise our bottles.
A Gilded Cage (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 1) Page 17