“Explain,” I bit off.
“I told you there’s only so much she told me. What I do know is that she put the girl with you for her own protection. Someone was hunting her in the foster care system. I don’t know who or why, just that O was worried.”
Dead To Me cracked her knuckles before informing me, “She’s already started stirring. It won’t be long before she’s awake.”
Nodding, I folded my arms across my chest as I leaned against the kitchen wall. “Then we wait.”
“Please don’t kill us,” Minerva pleaded.
“I want answers. Give them to me and we’ll consider this settled.”
Minerva tensed when Ovianar groaned, and a couple moments later, when her eyes fluttered open, Minerva whispered, “Just explain why you did what you did. They won’t hurt B. I told her about Jorgmundgander.”
Ovianar’s head rocked back, then she froze when she saw D looming over her. I figured that woke her up better than ice water to the face because she started struggling until D dug the knife deeper into her throat. Deep enough to cut.
“Stop it!” Minerva snarled. “This isn’t necessary. Give her what she wants. We have a family. You swore you’d protect us!”
The words appeared to penetrate Ovianar’s thick skull because she stilled then, nostrils flaring, growled, “Ask your questions then get the fuck away from us.”
“How?”
It was a simple question that, I knew, led to an impossible array of answers.
Ovianar swallowed. “You heard of a guy called Dagda?”
Conor stilled.
Dead To Me cast me a look.
I just drawled, “Ex-British serviceman? One of the best snipers in the world?”
“Yeah. That’s him. Eamonn’s his name. He’s good people. They used to team us up a lot. We worked well together.” She tipped her chin away from the knife. “Is this really necessary?”
Once I jerked my chin at D, she backed off.
“There was this meeting in Ohio,” she continued without pause. “It was a gathering of six or so Sparrows. Six of their top brass had gathered at this hotel in Cincinnati. Two teams were sent to deal with them.”
“They all died?”
“No. Two of them did. The other four…” Her mouth tightened. “I later learned it was a power grab.”
“What happened?”
“Each team got a target and a time limit. We already knew something was different because we only had a handler and not an active operative on our team.”
“What’s the difference?”
“When we had a handler who dealt with us remotely, we knew it was a dirty job. If there was fallout, it’d be on us, not on them.” Her throat worked. “We didn’t know the targets would be traveling with their families. Not until it was too late.”
“Were the families also targets?”
“They were,” she whispered. “They wanted us to kill kids. Dagda wouldn’t do it. We were in agreement. We’d handle our target then figure something out—”
“Wait. You saidkids,” Conor muttered.
She nodded. “Our target had two with him. The other team’s target had just the one—a daughter.”
My throat closed.