Page 34 of The Reaper

“Sit on the sill, then lower your body down. You should be able to feel the tallest branch with your toes … that’s right. Don’t worry, I have you.”

I talked her through the whole thing while rain pelted me from one side and the heat of a fire warmed me from the other. Once I felt that Fallon had found her footing, I clutched the edge of the sill, my knuckles turning white. “Run to the car. Get in. Drive, Fallon. Go to Oranmore. Ask one of the locals for help. Tell them you’re looking for sanctuary with the clan.”

“What about you?” she asked with wide eyes. “What are you going to do?”

My jaw tightened. “I’m going to take care of this fucker once and for all.”

The expression of horror on her face made me want to shield her from this life, but I shook off any grand thoughts of keeping a woman safe as easily as they’d come. I was the goddamn Mac Tíre Reaper. I never backed down from a fight. And when the enemy had Fallon in their sights, I would move hell and fucking earth to protect her.

I waited until she was on the ground and running before turning away. Giving my back to her was one of the hardest fucking things I’d ever had to do, but I did it and then moved to the door. In the hallway, thick smoke filled the space. I turned around and went into the bathroom, yanking a towel from the railing and soaking it in cold water. Once it was saturated, I drew it over my head and shoulders and made the dash down the stairs.

Embers landed on my exposed hands, but I shook them off quickly. When I reached the bottom landing, I found that fire had consumed all of the kitchen and most of the living room. The only thing that wasn’t ablaze yet was the short hallway leading to the front door.

There was no more time.

I had to get out of there now.

I opened the door and then slammed it shut again when a bullet hit the wood frame beside my head.

“Orin, I don’t want you anymore,” Farrell called through the wood. “I want that littlebitchwho shot my brother.”

Panic washed over me in a tsunami-sized wave.

I was in the house …

Fallon was out there.

With Farrell.

Fallonwas the one he wanted.

Indecision tore at me. If I opened that door again, there was a very good chance I would be shot. Normally, that wouldn’t fucking faze me. When your time was up, it was up, but the thought of leaving Fallon alone to defend herself against this motherfucker? It made me see red.

Hauling ass back up the stairs, I stayed low to avoid the billowing mass of writhing black smoke crowding against the ceiling looking for a way to get out. Covering my mouth and nose with the wet towel, I inched my way to the bedroom. Peering out the window, I was both relieved and terrified that I couldn’t see Fallon. I had to trust that she had done as I’d asked and escaped. Then she wouldn’t have to see me kill this bastard in the most violent ways my creative mind could come up with for wanting to harm the woman who was now under my protection.

I sat on the sill, then lowered myself down onto the tallest branch. Once I felt steady on my feet, I climbed down, my feet hitting the ground with a mutedthudon the soaked grass and mud. Imprints of Fallon’s bare feet were moving away from the tree and around to the side of the house where we’d parked the car.

She was safe.

She was s—

A high, keening scream sliced through the night.

The adrenaline that had been pumping through my body doubled savagely in my blood. Without any regard for my own safety, I bolted around to the front of the house, flinching when the front windows smashed, and glass exploded outwards. I protected my head from the shards, shielding my eyes when the flames licked and danced through their new openings. All the while, the rain tried to quell the fierceness of the inferno.

“Took you long enough,” Farrell drawled, and through the flames, I saw him with his thick arm around Fallon’s neck, holding her immobile.

My mind shifted into that dark place where rage and murderous intent reigned like a dictator with an iron fist. The monster snarled, baring its teeth.

I brought up my gun, training it at his head.

I could end all this right now.

I could take a shot, kill Farrell, and then get Fallon to safety, but …

What if the shot went a little to the right, and I hit Fallon instead? The thought almost buckled my knees. I stopped a dozen feet from him, feeling the fire at my back.

“Let her go.”

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