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He shot me a grin. “I think it sums us up perfectly, don’t you?”
“I’ll—”
“Some women get fancy meals at restaurants, some get elaborate proposals on bridges over a river in the springtime, but you get a bloodbath, Star,” D drawled. “He clearly knows you too well.”
My nose crinkled as I elbowed her, but my own smile was sheepish as I admitted, “He does.”
She snagged my hand and stared at it. “Who’s the broad?”
“An ancient O’Donnelly,” was all I said.
“How ancient?”
“The ring’s three hundred years old but she's not an O'Donnelly,” Conor answered as he started collecting his things and packing them in the case which he shoved at D. “Hold this. I don’t want to put my laptop away until we’re off this farm.”
“Smart thinking,” I agreed. “We need to make sure they can’t ambush us.”
“Fuckers,” he rumbled.
“I think this is proof that Garry Smythe and David Foundry know we’re onto them,” D concurred. “So, what are our next steps?”
“They need to die,” I said simply.
D nodded. “Affirmative. What about Dagda?”
“I sent my brothers a message before the siege—”
“I know,” I interrupted wryly.
“—I haven’t received any updates yet, but I can call once we’re on the road.”
Troy interrupted our conversation by striding out of the bedroom and heading into a different one. Lyra’s hand clutched at hers as she tugged her along with surprising gentleness for a natural-born stomper.
Lyra’s chin was tucked into her chest, her face tilted away so that we couldn’t see her expression. The only thing I noticed was that her hair was a beautiful golden-caramel color.
My cousin.
My blood.
My fingers curled into fists, nails burrowing into my palms.
Conor’s hand cupped my shoulder. “No one will get to her or Katina, Star.”
“I know they fucking won’t.”
Not without losing their brains to my bullet first.
3
STAR
We were driving back to the city when a cell rang. At first, I thought it was the phone D had given me before we split up, the one that Muñoz had been carrying at the time of his death, but it wasn’t—it was mine.
Conor was behind the wheel this time, D was with Troy and Lyra—both to make sure they didn’t run off or get lost on their way to Hell’s Kitchen—and I was in the passenger seat, mostly staring at my new ring until that was interrupted by the call.
“Private number,” I told Conor.
“When Kuznetsov called me, it was down as that.”
