Tears ran freely down my cheeks. Annie was right. Since I’d lost Mitch, I’d shut down so completely and had only started to come out of cold storage when I began this journey of revenge. “Thank you. I…you’re right. Thanks. Honestly, ever since we got to Ireland I’ve been on unsteady ground, not sure how to…”
Annie grabbed her phone, read the screen. “Heads up. Connor is moving. Wants to check on the bomb damage. We’ll follow. Grant will hold his position here.”
I swiped at my cheeks with my sleeve, and got back in the game. “Grant? The man who went inside?” I was so far behind in this mission I might never catch up, and it was my mission. “This is what happens when you turn a novice loose in a pro-only situation.”
I couldn’t see Annie’s smile since she was in front of me, but I felt it. “You’re a well-trained novice, and about to get better.”
Fion Connor appeared on the stoop, and we went silent. She didn’t have her cane. I pantomimed the change to Annie, and she smiled, not surprised. A fresh blast of anger—no, that was too strong—annoyance lodged in my brain. There was stuff they’d kept from me, things I needed to know. How long had Annie known that Fion Connor was capable of healing herself? If I’d suspected that earlier, so many things might have been different. But now wasn’t about sorting through the details of my screwed-up emotions, it was about clear, cold, concentration. I aimed it at Connor. Her gait was strong, no sign of a limp, and not so much as a stumble when she walked down the wheelchair ramp.
Annie held me back, letting Connor get well ahead before we followed her.
By the time we cleared the thicket, the crowd had disappeared, and, aside from a light in the kitchen, all appeared to be quiet in the Pierce household—except for Lorcán sitting on the back stoop.
The scent of impending rain had grown stronger. I scanned the sky, found the cloud cover heavy with only a few sporadic breaks. There was no trace of moonlight. Could we use the weather to our advantage? If it rained hard enough, the sound would cover our movements, so maybe.
Fion Connor had obviously aced the stealthy class in spy school. She’d dropped to a crouch, crab-walked, and came up on the cottage without Lorcán so much as twitching. ’Course that didn’t mean he was unaware of her presence. Sharply honed senses seemed to run in the Pierce family.
There was still enough distance between us and Connor that she shouldn’t notice our tail, but my nape was going prickle crazy. I leaned forward, touched Annie’s hand, then rubbed my neck. She nodded, and signaled for us to hold our position.
Lorcán stood, called out. “You, there.”
Fion jumped to her full height like it was normal to be skulking through the bushes, and flashed him a sexy smile. Who knew a smile could have the same effect as batting eyelashes?
“What’s your business?” Lorcán moved a few feet closer to Connor, his six foot-plus frame dominating the night. I’d have been making an emergency trip to Walmart to stock up on adult diapers if he challenged me with that tone. It didn’t intimidate Connor at all, but then she was insane.
“There was a loud noise, didn’t you hear it? I thought someone might need help.”
She lied well.
It left a sour taste in my mouth.
“Slight miscalculation. Nothing to be concerned about.” Lorcán dismissed her, settling back into his chair on the stoop.
I sent a silent plea for him to stay put and let her explore, because I desperately wanted to see what she’d do when she saw the hole in the back wall of the cottage. Annie clamped her hand on my arm. Guess she must have picked up on my need to move closer.
“Patience,” she mouthed.
Connor hesitated when she caught sight of the undamaged front porch, muttered something unintelligible, then kept moving.
I was profoundly grateful for the streetlights highlighting her movements and facial expressions, until I realized there was a huge down side—she could see us just as clearly, which meant we had to stay completely hidden while still keeping her in sight. The prickle in my neck hiked up a notch.
When Fion noticed the hole she grinned, wild, maniacal, and then slipped inside.
Rage exploded, knocking out my common sense. Fion Connor in my space, temporary as it was, wasn’t remotely okay. I was on my feet, and had jogged several feet closer to the cottage before Annie stopped me with an arm lock. “Easy. We want the upper hand.”
I drew in a breath, chilling my anger. “Yeah? I think we have it. She’s contained, there’s two of us—one well-trained—and Lorcán is on watch.” They were better odds than I’d ever believed possible. From the moment Mitch was killed, I had been convinced it would be me against my parents’ killer, with me in the one-down position. But that was when I’d accepted dying as part of the deal. Not so now.
Annie nodded. “Does she know you’re here?”
“Maybe. Probably. I don’t know what they got out of Cait when Murchadh beat her.” My temper flared again.
Annie sensed it, jabbed her finger toward me. “There’s no place for emotion in this work. Chill, or we’re not going in.”
She was right. I shoved the rage deep into the pit of my stomach, and locked it down tight. There’d be time for a coming-out party later. “I want answers.”
“I understand that, and Pierce and I want them for you.”
I closed my eyes, sucked in a breath, and nodded.
“I’ll go in first,” Annie said. “Could be I might get something out of her if she doesn’t see you.”
It niggled at me, letting Annie face Connor first, and essentially alone, but she was right. Again. “Go. I’ll stay behind you and out of sight.”
“Give me a minute to work my way around to the other side of the hole, then you can—”
“Waltz in the back door like I own the place. It’ll distract her and give you a chance to move into place.”
In agreement, we set off in opposite directions, Annie holding back until I was snug against the wall on the far side of the hole. The first raindrop spattered on my cheek, and, unfortunately, rain in Ireland was nothing to ignore. Not that I cared about getting wet, but I’d brought this disaster into Siofra and Lorcán’s life and didn’t want to be responsible for yet more damage to their property. A whole lot of rain could pound through that oversized hole in the wall.
“Who in the bloody hell are you?” Connor’s voice was shrill, bordering on hysterical.
“I’m A.J.” Annie waved her hand toward the hole in the wall. “I’m visiting, saw this mess and wondered if you needed help covering the open area. It’s started to rain.”
I leaned around the edge of the shattered wood, dared a quick peek into the kitchen. Fion stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, fingers moving rhythmically. The cold smacked me in the face before I realized what she was doing. “Run Annie,” I shouted, and then began unraveling the energy Fion had started to weave.
Annie froze.
Fion spun around to face me. “Well, if it isn’t Everly Gray. I wondered when you would show up. We’ve been waiting for you.”
She flung a wall of energy at me.
It would have ripped me in half if I hadn’t been expecting it. “Nothing is stronger than the energy of pure love, Fion. I would’ve thought you’d learned that by now.”
It was taking all of my strength to hold the protective field I’d thrown together just before Connor attacked. I had to do something, or she’d break through. And I wasn’t ready to die. There was Annie, Madigan, Adam, and Whitney to live for. Their friendship to cherish.
And there was Tynan Pierce and his family to protect. And love.
My heart pounded with renewed strength.
Revenge was at my fingertips, but how best to use it?
Annie hadn’t taken time to battle the same moral questions, and had Connor on the floor, arms twisted behind her back. “Handcuffs? Duct tape?” she asked me.
I pulled the S&W from my waistband, aimed it at Connor.
Ann
ie squinted at me. “Duct tape now. Murder later.”
I’d seen duct tape in one of the kitchen drawers earlier, but couldn’t remember which one. “How about you do one of those fancy moves to cut off the blood supply to her head? Better yet, let me practice.” I grinned.
Annie must have had Connor in a solid hold because she returned my smirk. “Chances are you’d kill her since your technique isn’t that polished yet.”
Fion’s eyes dilated, her glare filled with hatred.
The sick desire to continue playing with her tumbled through me, but I squashed it, snagged the duct tape from the third drawer I searched, and tossed it to Annie. “Make it tight. We know she can heal herself, that she has the power to create energy forms capable of harming, and possibly killing, people. Oh, and we know she’s insane. That’s a bad combination.”
“Nice work, ladies.” Lorcán stood at the kitchen door, a large roll of plastic in his hands. “And since you already have the duct tape handy, perhaps you can help me cover this hole before the rain comes.”
Annie threw him the empty roll of tape. “We’ll need more. I used this roll, except for the last inch.”
It was crazy wrong.
Rain had started to blow in through the hole in the wall, and filled the kitchen with a damp, musty scent. Fion Connor had her mouth clamped shut and was eyeing me with a death look, Annie and Lorcán—who’d never met each other—were carrying on a normal, friendly conversation like they’d been childhood friends, and all three of them were ignoring the fact that I had a loaded gun pointed at Connor.
Revenge was not living up to my expectations.
TWENTY-EIGHT
ANNIE TAPPED MY SHOULDER. “COULD you hold off on the shooting for a couple minutes? The rain’s really starting to come down and we need to get this hole covered.”
What the hell? I released the magazine, pocketed it, shoved the Smith&Wesson into my waistband, and picked up the free end of the plastic.
Lorcán had been rummaging through drawers. “Found some tape. Shouldn’t take more than a minute to get this patched, then I’ll haul your…target over to the house.”
“What?” The plastic slipped from my fingers. “No, she shouldn’t be around innocent people. It’s bad enough she’s here at the cottage. It would be best to move her back to Grady’s—”
“Pierce shouldn’t walk that far,” Annie said. She picked up my end of the plastic, handed it to me.
I held it tight to the wall while Lorcán taped. “No, of course not. He shouldn’t move at all—”
Lorcán snorted, then nudged my fingers lower on the plastic. “My son is probably on his way over here right now.”
He was right. Pierce simply didn’t lie around. Guilt swamped me. “My fault. I should have filled him in as soon as we had Grady and Connor contained. I’ll just—”
“Fill me in now?” Pierce asked from outside the plastic.
How the hell did my plans for revenge get so screwed up? My side of the plastic was taped solid, so I scooted behind to Annie’s side. And there he stood, leaning heavily against the wall, looking ghost-pale with rain dripping down his face.
I wrapped my arm around his waist. “Let’s get you out of the rain.”
We headed back to the house, Pierce leaning on me, heavy. The chill from his body penetrated my bones. It scared me, right down to my soul. If anything happened to him… “You’re cold, and wet, and…oh, my God, does Siofra know you’re out here? She’s gonna give both of us the Mother Glare.”
“She’s busy with Cait.” He sounded worried.
“What’s wrong?” I was only half listening to him, because the rain was in my eyes, and I needed to see well enough to avoid any slippery areas between the cottage and the house. No way would I let Pierce fall with his leg freshly stitched up.
“Vomiting for the last hour. Máthair thinks her body’s getting rid of the drugs. Nothing serious.”
I blew out a sigh. At least there was one thing I didn’t have to worry about. Sweat trickled down my back. Pierce wasn’t a lightweight, and even my well-toned muscles were quivering with the strain. I shot a glance toward the house. Ten feet. I could make it without dropping him. I thanked the gods and goddesses there were only two steps leading to the kitchen door.
Pierce was closest to the doorknob, so he turned it, but I shoved the door open. I didn’t want him to be off-balance for even a second, because it could topple both of us to the floor. After I got him safely maneuvered into a chair, I hustled back and shut the door, then found a towel and mopped up the water we’d dripped all over Siofra’s clean floor.
“Máthair likes you, Everly.” He sounded slurry.
“I like her, too.” I brushed his hair off his forehead. Too hot. “You have a fever, Pierce. We need to get you back to bed, and…” What the hell had I been thinking? It was one of those horrible face-palm moments, when I wanted to slip through the floor and die on the spot. “I should have tried healing you when the injury first happened. So stupid of me.”
He winked at me, his eyes glassy.
A pang shot right through my heart. Damn, but I loved this man. Now if I could just figure out exactly what that meant.
“Máthair would never have allowed it.”
“What? Why not?” And where was she? It would be best if we both walked him to the bedroom. Maybe she couldn’t leave Cait. “Will you be all right here for a minute? I’m going to prepare the bed, make sure the covers are down before I take you back there.”
He grinned. The fever had definitely made him loopy.
I started toward the hallway, but stopped when Annie clattered in through the back door, holding it open for Lorcán. He had Fion Connor balanced over his shoulder, and someone had slapped a piece of duct tape over her mouth.
“She say anything interesting?”
Annie grinned. “Nothing repeatable.”
This wasn’t good. On the other hand, I would have help moving Pierce back to bed…and, um, his father was available to take care of getting him into some dry clothes. Last thing I needed was an audience if I had to strip Tynan Pierce.
Still, first things first. “What are you going to do with her?” I asked Lorcán, pointing at Connor.
He shrugged, bouncing Fion halfway off his shoulder. “Siofra will know.”
I didn’t have time to fix the situation. Pierce came first, and there was a healing to do. “Just drop her for now. We need to get Pierce into some dry clothes and back to bed. He has a fever, and I’m going to…” However was I going to explain it?
Annie’s eyes sparkled. “If you could heal Maddie and me, you can heal Pierce. We were almost dead, and Pierce is just stubborn.”
Lorcán didn’t so much as twitch. Maybe touch-healing was a normal thing for the people who followed the goddess Dana.
Siofra burst into the kitchen, her face alight with anticipation, and threw her hands into the air. “We’re having a houseful tonight, aren’t we, then? Lorcán, put that woman on the sofa, then get your son into some dry pajamas, and tuck him into bed. I’ve had to move Cait upstairs so we can keep a close watch on her tonight.” Her eyes narrowed in on Annie. “I’m Siofra, Tynan Pierce’s mother. And you’re…?”
“A.J.” She didn’t elaborate.
Tears came to Siofra’s eyes, and she smothered Annie in a huge hug. “I’ve heard so much about you. Thank you, thank you, for keeping my son safe for those years.”
Annie choked, blinked rapidly. “Uh, it was both of us. We watched over each other.”
Siofra backed away, then smiled and patted Annie’s cheek. “Of course you did. Now then, if you could pour a glass of ginger ale for young Caitlin, and Everly, if you’ll come with me, we can see about finding something for the two of you to wear.” She gave us the once-over. “You’re both quite tall, but we’ll manage.”
Neither of us were actually tall, but Siofra only came up to my shoulder. It was all relative.
Annie blinked a few more times, then turned to
ward the refrigerator.
There was nothing for me to do until Lorcán had Pierce settled, so I dutifully followed Siofra into a storage area off the kitchen. Within minutes she’d piled my arms full of soft, comfortable clothing. I didn’t ask where it came from, because my mind was already reeling with too much unexpected information.
Annie and I divided the sweat pants and shirts, then she shooed me into the bathroom. “You go first. You have a healing to do.”
I shucked my wet clothes, gazed longingly at the shower, but settled for washing up in the sink. It took a couple minutes of vigorous towel drying to get most of the moisture out of my hair, then I slipped into the sweats Siofra had provided. The pants were a smidge short, but they were warm and dry, so I wasn’t about to complain that my ankles were showing. The whole time I was in the bathroom, I fretted over healing Pierce, and it must have showed on my face when I entered the kitchen.
Siofra took the wet clothes from my hands, and plunked them on the counter. “I’ll get to washing those up as soon as I have A.J.’s. What’s troubling you mo iníon?”
My gut churned. Iníon meant daughter. I’d seen it on a billboard near Glanmire, but I never expected anyone to say it in reference to me. Nerve-rattling, but it wasn’t what Siofra wanted to know. “It’s the healing. I…”
Annie’d strolled out of the bathroom in time to hear Siofra’s question. “Every time Everly has done a healing, it’s been a life or death situation, so she didn’t have time to think about it.” She added her wet clothes to the pile on the counter. “I’ve learned that if I give her too much time to think about anything, she gets caught up in second-guessing herself.”
She had me dead to rights. “Best friends can be a real pain in the patootie.” I turned to Siofra, needing to explain. “Every time I’ve healed someone, and there haven’t been all that many times, thank God, it was like Annie said, I had to respond the situation immediately. The energy just happened, like a spontaneous combustion in my body, but this is different. Pierce’s life isn’t in danger. He’s probably strong enough to be giving Lorcán a hard time, especially with the whole clothes-changing exercise.”
a Touch of Revenge (Romantic Mystery - book 6): The Everly Gray Adventures Page 19