"No. Nothing. You sure it wasn’t some bird or something?" Brennan demanded. "Or is that wishful thinking?"
"Definitely wishful thinking unless it was a pack of fucking emus," Conor grumbled. "My fences are hardcore."
"Actually, it’s a mob of emus, not a pack," I corrected softly.
He snickered. "Fitting. But still, no emus were harmed in the blowing up of my fences."
Eoghan grunted. "How many men did the sensors pick up?"
Conor called out, "Six."
"Shit. We’re outnumbered if they got to the guards."
Just as Brennan finished his sentence, Conor’s fingers sped up even more, then there was a massive explosion that had me jerking backward, flopping onto the floor. It didn’t shatter the windows, which told me they were made of reinforced glass, but beneath me, the ground trembled a little with the force.
Winded thanks to how I collided with the ground, a bit like I’d belly-flopped, I rasped, "What the fuck was that?"
"Good, old-fashioned illegal substances that are punishable by forty years in a state penitentiary," Conor chirped.
"Da’s gonna be pissed if you wrecked Ma’s daffodil flowerbeds," Declan muttered.
"We’re in the middle of a siege!" Conor growled. "What am I supposed to do? Let the daffodils survive while we get shot up?"
My heart flipped a little, but I hurled myself onto my stomach, flat to the ground as I scurried forward like I’d been taught during my own training—all those goddamn classes Dad had made me take to defend myself from kidnappers and such were coming in handy as I returned to the window. Aidan was so wrong about my right hook. Ex-SAS soldiers had taught me and my siblings how to fight. When I peered over the sill, just a scant inch, I wasn’t sure if it was fate or not, but I saw something.
He was dressed all in black and the smoke from the explosives made him stand out in stark relief.
I knew Eoghan was the family’s sharpshooter. "Do you see him, Eoghan? Over by that ornamental duck pond?" I asked softly, and received a hum of assent.
Now, my heart pounded. The figure in black was quite clearly disoriented, enough that he was staggering from side to side rather than striding forward, but I felt the cold brush of air as one of the windows was opened, and then a loud ricocheting bang sounded, one that made me jolt almost as much as the bomb that had gone off in the yard had done.
"I can only see one more sign of life," Conor said, confirming Eoghan’s kill.
I blew out a breath at the thought, but found myself still not scared. Mostly just relieved I was on the O’Donnellys’ side. Although, I wasn’t sure what kind of a death wish the Sparrows had by doing this. It was clear they were after me again, but dear Lord, breaking into the O’Donnellys’ compound was like asking to be killed.
As I gnawed on my bottom lip, a move that belied the lack of fear I purportedly didn’t feel, I turned to Conor and saw he was monitoring a screen.
I frowned as I saw it was like a sensor, with dots of heat here and there. I quickly surmised that where we were, there was the biggest cluster. I also saw that around the perimeter of the building, there were guards, but toward the front, there was only one sign of life.
"Does that mean some of your guards are dead?"
We shared a look. "Sadly. Yes."
"Oh," I whispered, guilt spearing me in two.
The day before Christmas Eve, my presence here had led to some of their men’s deaths.
Conor patted my knee, and while the gesture was awkward, he said, "You’re exposing criminals within the justice system, within the government and only God knows what other parts of American society, Savannah. Sometimes, blood has to be shed to liberate the truth."
Gratitude filled me as I rasped, "Thank you, Conor."
He shrugged. "Only being honest."
A loud gunshot sounded, one that had me ducking my head, my shoulders coming up to hunch around my ears.
"Who the fuck was that?" Brennan called out.
"I don’t know. The remaining intruder’s not doing too well. His heart beat’s too slow—" He grunted. "It’s petering out. There’s another shooter out there."