by Cecilia Lane
The damn windows were dark and he couldn’t see inside. He cursed the modern technology that drew him to Silo Point in the first place as he punched in his code to unlock the terrace door.
Near the door was a small cupboard. He dragged out the jeans and gun inside, tugging on the jeans as he ran through the flat and toward the muffled sounds of fighting upstairs. He didn’t have time to question the body he jumped over to reach the stairs. The safety on the gun clicked off as he took the first step.
He reached the top of the stairs and didn’t know what to make of the scene. Mariko and Annika fought one another, blocking and landing blows nearly equally until Mariko knocked Annika to the ground and pounced on her.
But Annika wasn’t done. She pressed her arm into Mariko’s neck, saving her own skin from the fangs that threatened to rip into her. She reached around and stabbed a knife into Mariko’s shoulder.
Mariko hissed and growled a purely feline noise, her face more cat than human. Eoghan took aim and fired, catching her in the upper arm. She growled again, backing away from Annika. Seeing she’d been beaten, she flung herself over the railing.
Eoghan chased after her but she had already disappeared through the open terrace door. He reached the door and saw her balance on the railing and jump to the observation deck two floors below. She’d be long gone by the time he reached her.
He turned and hurried back inside, pausing only to toe the body near the stairs. The man groaned and started to move. Eoghan bent down long enough to snap the man’s neck.
“What did I do?” Annika whispered above him.
He craned his head and saw her peering over the railing with wide eyes. He sped up the stairs and pulled her away from the edge. Her hands shook and she dropped the knife.
“Ya fought that she-beast and her minion off.” He gripped her cheeks and forced her to look at him. “Yer pure fooking brilliant!”
His laugh was half mad and completely relieved. He didn’t know how she did it or what secrets she still had locked away inside her head. He was too thrilled that she hadn’t died or been snatched away again.
Eoghan’s lips crashed down on hers. The scent of blood in the air only made him want her more. She was tough, willing to fight for herself. He didn’t have time for someone weak and scared. He needed someone with as much inner fire as he possessed.
He put everything into the kiss. All the anger and longing he felt without her at his side, all the fury and relief when she walked back into his life. He was filled with desperate heat to have her back.
His cock throbbed and he hauled her up and hitched her legs around his waist, pressing her back against the wall. He nipped at her lower lip and chuckled darkly when she moaned into his mouth. He swept his tongue over her lips and tangled with her once more. Her flavors rolled over his taste buds, truer to her than what he’d tasted days earlier, even an hour earlier. Fooking delicious, she was, and he hadn’t licked her sweet cream yet.
He wanted to dominate her, show her how much she belonged to him. He could already sense her arousal and feel her hips move against him. Fooking hell, her nipples were tight, hard points straining against her shirt and begging for him to just tug the fabric down. He’d pull the shirt down, let her spill into his hands, lick one tight bud and then the other until she begged him for more.
Eoghan nipped a line up the column of her neck and whispered in her ear. A shudder ran through her at the first word and her breathing picked up pace. “I’m going tae take my time. Peel off one bit of clothing at a time and make ya howl and beg for the next. But right now, sweet gods above, right now all I can think about is ripping off these ridiculously thin pants and fooking ya hard against this wall.”
Annika groaned and wrapped her arms around his neck. There was no hesitation, only a fight to get better purchase on him. She needed the release almost as much as he did and they both needed to renew their bond.
Fook all the doubts. There, in his arms, she felt too damned good. There had to be an explanation for her answers while detoxing and he didn’t care to find out right then. They were mates and she needed his help.
She was his.
He could ignore the alarm beep that said someone entered the flat. He couldn’t ignore his underboss swearing up a storm.
“Annika!” Gio roared through the home. Boots stomped on the floor below as Gio and whoever he brought with him tore about.
“Can a man not have one moment of peace in his own home?” Eoghan growled and pressed his forehead against Annika’s shoulder. She snickered and he shot her a glare before calling over his shoulder. “Up here, Gio.”
“Who got the bastard down there?” Gio asked as he rounded the last step.
“Annika. She got a good stab in on Mariko, too,” Eoghan said and let her slide back to her own feet. He didn’t miss Gio’s appraising look and the hint of respect he saw there.
“Get started on cleanup. I’ll be down soon,” he told Gio and grabbed Annika’s hand. It was tempting to lead her back to the bedroom and finish what they started. But then he wouldn’t leave the room for days and he needed to make sure the family was settled after such a close strike.
“Come. Get dressed.” He opened the bedroom door he kept shut at all times. She hadn’t lived with him long before she disappeared. Nothing official, like changing her address or ending the lease on her scary small flat in Butcher’s Hill. But enough for a good few clothes to litter his drawers and closet with memories and scents that needed to be locked away.
Annika hesitated and eyed him with a shuttered expression. “More borrowed clothes? Would Kenna like you loaning her things out?”
“Kenna? What?” He swore and then laughed. “Sister, Ann. Kenna is my sister. Remember the names. Sorcha. Kenna. Rhona.” He paused and finally pushed the last name through his teeth. “Maura. Go on, get cleaned up. I’ll get rid of the one downstairs and we’ll get going.”
“Where are we going?”
“After this,” he jerked his head down the hall, “we’re going tae check on the girls and their bairns. Then, the real work begins.”
8
The mattress groaned as Annika collapsed on the bed. She traced her lips, still plump from Eoghan’s kiss. The man was a whirlwind and overwhelmed her completely. The madness of the afternoon swirled and battered at her sanity but he was something firm to keep her grounded.
The muffled sound of activity downstairs pushed her into motion. Annika sat up and took stock of the bedroom. Eoghan had said to shower and change.
She didn’t think the bedroom got much use. The furniture was older than anything else she’d seen in the condo and dust lightly covered the dresser and nightstand.
Pictures were tucked into the edge of the mirror attached to the dresser. It was odd to stare at her face and not recall the scenes. All three featured Eoghan in some manner and she could almost track how far their relationship had progressed by each shot.
The first was taken outside, near sunset. Eoghan wrestled with a pile of children and she laughed at the edge of the frame. Another showed them with cheeks flushed and arms tangled, feeding each other shots of an amber liquor she knew would be his favorite whisky. The final photograph was folded and worn at the edges. Their foreheads were pressed together and they seemed totally unaware of the camera.
She tugged open one of the drawers and found clothes neatly tucked away. Jeans. Tank tops. Even socks and underwear. Everything a girl could need and all of it nearly her size.
There were massively deep, unresolved issues but it was obvious Eoghan cared for her. He locked her memory away but he couldn’t bring himself to erase her entirely.
And as soon as she returned, he stepped into the role of her protector. He sat by her bed and tended her through sickness. She felt safe with him. How could she not, with a man that would go so far as to kill for her?
By the time Annika showered and changed into clothes that were only a little tight, all traces of her battle were gone. If she hadn’t washed away blood fro
m the cut on her stomach or seen the bruises purpling on her arms, she might have thought she imagined the entire thing.
Eoghan was alone when she reached the lower floor. His men, as well as the body, were entirely gone. It was just him and his piercing eyes focused entirely on her.
The stolen moment upstairs had been a jolt to her system and she didn’t feel as weak as before. It did, however, have the downside of making her acutely aware of his presence. She thought she would be able to point to him in the middle of a crowd.
She lingered at the bottom step, unsure if she should go to him or keep the distance between them. He decided for her and crossed the living room. They were the same height and she could easily meet his eyes while she stood a step above him.
She found pride there. So much pride in his eyes. After a year of nothing but pity it was... invigorating. She felt on top of the world. She defended herself against not one, but two attackers and won the pride of her mate.
Now she just needed to remember him. All of him and their time together. It was so close, just out of reach. A flicker just at the edge of her vision. If she turned fast enough she'd catch it.
He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. The rest hung loose in messy waves over her shoulders. "How's yer head?"
Could he read her thoughts or peer into her soul? There was an affinity between them, even if she couldn't tap into it. "Still blank. I’m trying, really, but it’s like everything was painted over in black. There are huge chunks missing. More fragments than clear memories."
His eyes flashed to worry and anger and settled on concern. "Ya should stay. I can have someone come by, in case Mariko comes back."
She waved her hands to emphasize her negative. "Not needed. I want to go. Maybe it'll help jog my mind."
There was a tiny moment of hesitation before he sprang into action. He hooked an arm over her shoulder and dragged her out the door. He didn't let go of her once during the elevator ride down the building or the walk through the parking garage. She felt solid and safe with his arm around her.
Once she was settled in his SUV—he held the door for her—she asked, “Where to first?”
“We’ll go see the three she-devils known as my sisters. I usually have one of the boys stop by but—”
“But with what happened today, you want to do it yourself. If Mariko will go into your own home then your sisters could be in danger.”
“Ay. They aren’t hard. Women need protecting.”
Annika sniffed. “Maybe they do. I think I proved I can take care of myself.”
“Today, sure. But what about tomorrow? Or if you get trapped somewhere? Mariko knows she can’t just twist yer arm and take ya away. She won’t be put off so easy next time.”
Annika frowned. Even if she wasn’t at full strength or knew what she was doing, really, she didn’t want to be coddled.
Eoghan shot her a look that allowed no further argument even before she could make her case. “No griping. You shouldn’t have tae take care on yer own. I won’t hear anymore of it.”
She bit back her words and crossed her arms over her chest. The rest of the ride was silent until they pulled into the driveway of a three-story home not too far from Eoghan’s building. The entire neighborhood was a mix of old and new construction. New cars dotted the street and driveways of the newer homes, while older homes were paired with cars that looked in great need of repair.
Eoghan led her to the door and let himself in with familiarity. “Who’s home?” he called to the interior.
A stampede of small feet charged toward the front door. Three boys and one girl that barely reached his thighs clamored for attention. None had the same eyes or hair as the others, but they all had the same wide smiles that beamed up at an evidently doting uncle.
“A whole passel of brats and bastarts!” Eoghan scooped up the two smallest children in each arm and planted kisses on their cheeks.
“Ma! Unca Eoghan said we was bastarts!” One of the boys on the ground tattled toward the back of the house.
“Ay, and ask him about his unsavory parentage.” A woman with bright red hair and even brighter green eyes rounded the corner. Annika saw where the wide mouth came from as soon as she grinned. “King Bastart, he is.”
“Yer a right git, Sorcha.”
The woman rolled her eyes and then leaned around Eoghan and the squirming children to eye Annika. She planted her hands on her hips and puckered her lips. “Yer back, then. Maybe ya can keep this yin in a better mood.”
Eoghan reached behind him and pulled Annika into the middle of the raucous. “Ann, this is Sorcha. Sorcha, be swell. Ann can’t remember everything. We think she got hit with that shifter poison.”
Sorcha made a face. “Ya poor thing. Donnae worry, we won’t bite. Will we, boys?”
The boys made a chorus of agreement and Eoghan continued with introductions. “We have Tam and Rory here on the ground. Logan, up here, and this little doll is Malina.”
Sorcha leaned on the banister and yelled up the stairs. “Oi! Rhona! Come see! King Bastart brought home a right bonnie lass.”
“Ma, what’s parentage?” Tam asked.
Sorcha pulled a struggling Logan from Eoghan’s arms. “It means who yer ma and da are. Ya see, my ma got real sick after she had Auntie Rhona. So sick that the doctors said she couldnae hae another bairn. So, our da went down tae the nunnery and brought us the noisiest bairn he could find. Then, a year later, our ma had Auntie Maura. But when we all asked nicely, da still wouldnae take Unca Eoghan back tae the nuns.”
“An that’s how yer ma and aunties learned that I was the favorite.” Eoghan teased and received another eyeroll from Sorcha. “Not working today?”
“I did, I did. One o’ the girls got sick-like, so we swapped shifts. I took these yins in wi me before lunch.” Her eyes shifted to Annika, then back to Eoghan. “We need tae hae it oot about upgradin’ the playground for the wee yins.”
“You said as much last time. Get me a budget an we’ll take a see.”
“Fine, fine. Ya better not let Kenna see yer hair. She’ll pin you down and cut ya good.” Sorcha stretched up and rubbed a hand through Eoghan’s dark hair that started to curl at the ends. She snorted. “Remember that time when we was just, oh, couldnae been more than eight. Ya was no bigger than Logan there. We threatened tae wallop you if ya didn’t let us paint ya up with Ma’s powder and rouge?”
Eoghan made a face. “I donnae think that needs tae be discussed.”
Sorcha nearly doubled over in laughter. “I’m going tae find the pictures. Ya looked like a clown!”
“Not my fault the four of ya donnae know what yer doing. Years o’ experience haven’t changed that.”
Sorcha raised an eyebrow and glared. “Ya try being well-kempt with the passel climbin’ ya like a tree every hour o’ the day.”
Steps bounded down the stairs and another sister made an appearance. Her hair was blonde and held in a long braid.
“Yer here, too? Do any o’ ya birds do any work?
“Yer bum’s oot the windae if ya think we just simper and lounge all day while waitin’ for ya tae appear, King Bastart.”
“That’ll do, you chancer. Ya need a thing while ya have me snagged up?”
“The camera on the north corner keeps going in and oot. I think the cable keeps getting knocked loose.”
“Awright, I’ll take a look.” Eoghan passed off the armfuls of children to Sorcha and kissed Annika’s forehead. “Don’t let them tell ya any stories,” he warned with a smile.
“Get tae work, King Bastart!” Sorcha waved him out the door and rounded on Annika. “Fancy a cuppa, then?”
Utter madness was the only way Annika could describe it. The sisters gave as good as they got, in words that sounded like complete gibberish at first. Slowly, Annika heard the words they said. It was amusing how Eoghan’s burr thickened the longer he spoke with them.
She found herself settled at a large table in the cozy kitchen. Pots and pans hu
ng above the stove and drawings colored by children hung on the fridge. Three photographs were framed on the wall: one with an older man and woman she assumed were their parents, one of a girl alone, and the third with four girls with varying shades of red and blonde hair and one boy with a mess of dark curls.
“Your parents?” she asked politely and took the warm mug Sorcha handed to her. Berries and sweetness exploded on her tongue at her first sip.
“Ay,” Rhona answered and plopped into an empty seat. “An lovely Maura, sweet girl that she was. Ya donnae remember?”
“Hush, Rhona. They think she had a dram o’ that poison being peddled in the Harbor. Ya know the one that makes ya full human for a time?” Sorcha snickered. “Eoghan will make it right, I’m sure.”
“He cares a lot for his family, doesn’t he?” Annika barely contained her sigh. She dug into her pocket and pulled out her bracelet, fingering it out of sight of the others. A talisman from another time. Someone cared for her then, surely just like Eoghan cared for her now.
“Oh, ay. Us an the boys down at the port. He brought us over here, ya know. After Ma passed, bless her soul, he bought us all places tae run an this home tae keep.”
Rhona flicked her hair over her shoulder. “They benefit him, tae. We’re nae stupid. Sorcha takes care o’ the bairns and everyone benefits from the extra security at the daycare. Kenna makes sure everyone looks correct an what better place tae hae a parlay than a barbershop run by yer own sister?”
“An Rhona here takes care o’ the cars. We’re well paid for our discretion.”
“Ay,” Rhona sighed. “I just wish he would let us go tae the parties. There’s tae be a week o’ ring fights soon. I heard some o’ the blokes talking.”
“Don’t be such a slut, Rhona. As if we need another git chompin’ at our heels every day. Eoghan’s right tae keep yer man-crazy arse away.”
Rhona glared. “Yer one tae talk! A full three-quarters are yers! Just because ya and Kenna can’t keep a man tae save yer lives doesn’t mean I’ll be the same.”
The two descended into what felt like familiar bickering and Annika sipped at her tea. The quiet moment to herself was enough to study the rest of the kitchen. The children had a tiny plastic table set up and were happy to color or roll toy trucks over the surface.
