“And the ones by the front door?”
She sighs, pinching her brow. “Patrolling.”
“You need more men on the doors.”
“I’m fine,” she snaps, jumping from the desk. Without thought, I follow, grabbing her elbow as she wobbles. “I have enough men.”
“Did you forget,Princess,” Killian hisses, leaning down into her bloody face, a cobra ready to attack, “that the Board is gunning for you? It’s only been a few weeks since you spit in their faces and told them to effectively fuckoff.”
“Point?” she growls, tiny hands fisting at her side.God, she’s pissed. She’s liable to swing—and frankly, she needs it.
“Mypoint,” he steps closer, both of them staring with enough fire to ignite the whole damn house, “is that you’re a sitting duck. And you need protection.”
Damn, that’s a good point. Swallowing my drink, I drop the glass on the desk.
Gently, I pull Maeve back. “The Board was pissed when you didn’t give them Sloane. Think of it as a precaution.”
She curses under her breath, turning away to stalk back to the bar.
“Listen to the prince. At least listen tosomeone. You broke centuries of tradition with that stunt you pulled,” Killian reminds her, tone dark. “You think they won’t retaliate?”
“What was I to do, Linwood?” She glares at us both. “Let them have her? Doyle would havekilledher. And you know that.”
Killian exhales loudly, running a hand through his hair as I wince at the pain in her voice.She’s not wrong.
Ferguson made a deal with the Board, a powerful group of men, when he was first brought to America. For their assistance, he had to pay them back, with interest and marry a daughter off to a Board member when the time came. Sloane was supposed to be that daughter—until Maeve found out.
Now she’s taking the brunt of their frustration, with possible assassination attempts to sweeten the pot.
“Regardless, you’re a target now. Get those guards back here.”
Tiredly, Maeve sighs, curling back into her chair, like a cat needing a spot to hide.
“They’re not coming for me. Not tonight.”
Killian explodes, kicking the desk, sending it back a few inches. Eyebrows raised, I look at the reaper, noticing not the annoying arrogance or even his bloodthirsty glee—but black rage.
Not over the situation, no. That’d be too easy. But for worry,overMaeve.
“How can you think they won’t?” He slams his hands onto the desk, Maeve staring at him with her cool detached eyes. “You know they’re coming. You took away their prize. Theythreatened you at the funeral. It’s beenweekswith nothing from them. Any day, someone will be here to try toassassinateyou.”
“The Board doesn’t let anyone insult them.” Shifting, I cross my arms. “You threw away years of tradition by not upholding the previous Captain’s decree. They’re going to come after you.”
Maeve bites her bottom lip, eyes darting back and forth, the reaper too close for comfort. He’s coiled tight, as if to reach forward and strike. I'm even unnerved.
“Let them come after me,” she whispers. “As long as they don’t go after my siblings.”
“You stubborn, pain in the ass,” Killian curses, chuckling under his breath as he hangs his head. “You’re asking for death.”
“What I’maskingfor, Linwood, is for you toleave.” Her fingers curl around the imaginary hilt of a knife. “I don’t sleep much. No one’s getting me tonight.”
It’s a punch to the gut. The most feared woman in the Northeast and still, the nightmares come for her.
Unfortunately, I understand.A little too well.
“I’ll stay,” Killian says, pulling out his phone to send a quick text.
“I’ll get the guards back,” I offer, watching Maeve hunch forward as if to ward off an attack. “Maybe you should call Reese? See if that’ll help take the edge off.”
