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“No,” her voice gets more urgent. “What isthat?”
She points out her window to an orange glow appearing over the treeline on her side. I frown at the sight. There aren’t usually lights like that around here.
I pull into the driveway of the estate, a growing sense of dread beginning to pool in my stomach. The winding path throws us in front of the glow, and with every inch we drive closer, it grows brighter.
“Arnie,” Roisin whispers. “Arnie, I smell smoke.”
My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. We turn the final bend, and then…
Fire.
The entire front of the building is ablaze.
The crackling and popping of burning timbers fill the air. The fire writhes with malevolent grace, climbing its way up the walls with an insatiable hunger. As I watch the flames dance and devour, a sense of helplessness washes over me. There is nothing I can do to save it from its fiery demise.
Yet I’m still out of the car a second later. The smoke hangs heavily in the air, stinging my eyes and almost choking me. It makes me stop and rethink my strategy.
I may not have lived at the estate long, but there are more than enough possessions here I’d rather not see burned to a crisp. Perhaps if I run around the back, the north wing will still be intact long enough for me to locate a few things.
Roisin screams behind me.
My body reacts instantly, primed to take down anyone within earshot of us. The knife is already in my hand before I see what made her scream.
She must have left the car when I did. Ash has already begun to fall on her red hair, peppering it with graying color. But she doesn’t seem to notice or care. Her eyes are trained on the front entrance of the house.
A timely gust of wind shows me what I’d missed before. Three men lie at the foot of the steps. Each is dressed all in black, a detail my mind clings to as I see their kit splayed out next to them. But the next-generation combat gear couldn’t protect them from the bullets now lodged in their skulls.
There’s only one man I know who can shoot as well as that.
My heart freezes over as my eyes trail to the top of the step. Leaning against the open door frame, a figure has slumped to the floor in defeat. Blood pools around him. His unseeing eyes stare at his final triumphant kills.
“Angus?” Roisin’s voice wobbles with the grief I cannot express myself.
My mentor, my butler… my friend.
Gone. Died defending my home on my behalf.
The man who stood by me my entire life. Training me in my craft, helping me hone skills that my uncle would have never otherwise bothered to teach me. He was once an assassin in his own right before sustaining an injury that led him to my family’s service.
I always thought he was unstoppable. That there was nothing he couldn’t do. He was the only stable thing in my life, kinder than my uncle and more present than my father. I cared for no man more than him.
“I wasn’t here,” I seethe. “I could have stopped this.”
I feel Roisin by my side more than I can see her.
“I should have been here!” I roar.
But my voice barely sounds louder than the thunderous crackling of my home, splintering and falling apart before our eyes. All we can do is watch as the fires claim Angus’ body, along with whatever’s left of my hope for a peaceful solution.
“Did Padraic do this?” Roisin says quietly.
I breathe hard as I turn to her, aware that my eyes are wild with emotions I can’t properly express, but I don’t care. The monster within me snarls and snaps for something, anything but the pain coursing through my veins.
But Roisin is still, her voice and face a stony calm against the chaos.
“I think so,” I manage to get out, transfixed by her cool exterior.
Her beautiful emerald eyes meet mine evenly, her conviction unwavering.
