Together, we approach. Floorboards creek beneath our boots.
We’re just about on the shadow when it stands up. It takes me two seconds to evaluate the scene in front of me. Brendan. Device in his hand. Reckless insanity shining in his eyes.
“Stop! Don’t shoot!” Brendan frantically glances back and forth at us. “I’ve wired this place with explosives. If my thumb leaves this button, it’s all over. We all die.”
Frustration burns through my veins. Cowardly little shit. We’re at a standstill.
No one moves. Wolfe and I keep our guns trained on Brendan, whose hands shake as he holds it toward us.
“You’ve lost,” I tell Brendan. “You’re through.”
“Fuck you! I knew I should have put a bullet in your head before dropping you into the river.”
“Deactivate that trigger,” I command.
He glares at me. “As soon as I do that, you’ll shoot me.”
He’s right. There’s no version of the future where he’s leaving this room alive. Which is a truth Brendan seems to read in my expression. His eyes narrow.
“At least I get to take you down with me.” He lifts his thumb.
Time seems to switch into slow motion as Wolfe and I flat out run toward the attic windows. We’re on the fourth floor, but I’ll take the odds of surviving that fall over being blown to pieces.
Shielding my face with my arms, I break through the thin glass. My momentum launches me out the window.
Then I’m falling.
CHAPTER 62
Ravenna
Ihaven’t slept a wink. How could I? The longer Cian’s away, the more raw and sharp-edged my nerves become. If he’s not back at the first sign of dawn, I’m going to emotionally implode. Not even the company of my cousins has been able to keep me grounded. Probably because they’re as worried as I am and we’re all swimming in fear.
Just as the first rays of dawn light the horizon, the door bangs open. Sophia, Arianna, Gin, and I rush into the main room.
I’m dizzy with relief.
There they are, all four of our husbands, plus Wolfe. They’re alive, but look worse for wear. Cian and Wolfe are covered in filth, I can’t tell if it’s dirt or soot or a mix of both. Stranger still, small branches of pine needles stick out from their body armor.
“What happened to you two?” My hands busy themselves searching for any significant damage on Cian’s body. They turn black, but I find no signs of blood or injury. Unlike Dimitri, who has a nasty cut on his forehead, and Roman with a bandage around his upper arm. Blake seems to be unscathed.
“Brendan blew up the house. We had to exit out of the attic window or get roasted. Luckily, we jumped right into a tree.” Hischuckle morphs into a groan. “Those branches broke our fall, but I still feel like I’ve been run over by a semi-truck.”
“Same.” Wolfe and Cian plop down on the beige sofa, completely soiling it.
“You’re both insane,” I murmur, relieved but exhausted. “You could have died from that jump.”
Wolfe shrugs. “We had a twenty or so percent chance of surviving without that tree. Zero chance if we stayed inside.”
“Yeah. Luck of the Irish.” Cian snags my hand and pulls me down to sit beside him. “It’s over,broc meala. He’s dead.” His lips brush against mine. I deepen our kiss, not caring that he’s covered in ash.
The Manor’s medical team arrives, and they sort through everyone’s injuries quickly and methodically. Cian’s given permission to shower. Miraculously, he didn’t break anything, but those bruises are going to take a while to heal.
I give him a few minutes alone in the shower, but have every intention of joining him when Wolfe claims the chair across from mine.
He scrutinizes me for a long moment, the scowl he normally wears firmly in place. We’ve never gotten along, so I mentally prepare myself for whatever acrid comment he’s about to utter.
“Why are you staring at me?” I clip.
