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“They haven’t hurt me yet. But if they do—”
“We’ll take every one of them down, Light,” he said. “Stay there. We’re on our way.”
The line went dead; she held the phone up to Garrick. “If you’re lying, no God will be able to save your soul.”
A scoff of a laugh came from behind Garrick. “Definitely Harry’s daughter.”
THIRTY-FOUR
PACING IN FRONT OF the huge double-height window by the fireplace, Tess muttered, “Right thing, wrong thing.”
The men, including Garrick, were around the dining table on the other side of the fireplace.
She itched and tingled, anticipating what may or may not happen. Daire had been an asshole. That didn’t mean she wanted him dead. And she’d had little chance to get to know her father. They needed more time. But it was possible she’d called them to the slaughter.
Still obsessing, there was no way to reach a conclusion until what happened, happened. The glass front door burst open, stopping her dead. Daire was halfway across the room, her in his sights, zero awareness of anything else.
Relief propelled her to mirror his determination; they met just as he reached the step up to the split level. Even though she was one step higher, he still had to bend his knees to level their eyes.
“You hurt?” he asked, grabbing her waist. “Look at me.”
He cupped her face to check her eyes, cheeks, and jaw, then ran his fingers up through her hair and down her neck, checking her scalp and spine.
“I’m fine,” she said, laying her hands on his chest. “I’m not hurt.”
“What happened?” he asked, squeezing her arms and hips, apparently still checking for tenderness or broken bones. “How did they take you?”
“It didn’t hurt. I wasn’t hurt… It was a tranquillizer dart… I think.”
Her fingertips went to her shoulder, attracting his attention. He zeroed in on the spot, pushing her fingers aside and easing down the strap of her dress to run his thumb across the red mark left by the dart.
His jaw tightened, thinning his lips, gritting his teeth as he inhaled through his nose. For a split second, his eyes were on hers, then he was whirling around to face the others, shielding her with his body.
“Who was it?” he demanded.
Tess edged aside to see her father in the open doorway, gun in hand. Garrick and the men were crowded next to the fish tank.
“Ares, the men were acting on my orders,” Garrick said.
It was only as Daire’s hand came around to his back that she noticed the gun in his waistband.
When his fingers curled around the grip, she plastered both hands on his to stall him. “No,” she said before he could free it. “No shooting.”
His hand loosened from the gun to twist and take hold of both of hers at the small of his back.
“What’s the play, Garrick?” Harry asked. Transfixed by Daire’s long fingers trapping all of hers, her father’s words faded through. “Using my own child against me? My own men?”
“No,” Garrick said. “Not against you. For you. With you… We needed you here, but it was too risky to approach you.”
“Needed me for what?”
“Come in,” Garrick said. “We’ll sit down and talk.”
“Stratego,” Boze said. “It’s time to hit back.”
“Hit back,” Harry murmured. The front door closed. “You want to take him down.”
“If we work together, anything is possible,” Garrick said. “All we want to do is talk.”
