Page 52 of Vicious Hearts

“Wait, youfoundUna O’Conor?”

And then she found me, and walked right the fuck into my trap.

Through the chaos of both families arriving all at once into the spacious kitchen of the Upper East Side brownstone, I pull Castle aside and give him a quick nod. “It’s been handled. We’re fine.”

It’s notfine. I may have Una herself locked up in my basement kill room. But whoever is pulling her strings— the mastermind—is still out there.

But yes. For now, at least, I haveher.

Castle whistles low, raking his finger over his sharp jaw. “Well,fuck. You’ve been busy.”

You have no idea, my friend.

“Dead?”

“Not yet.”

Even saying it brings a sour feeling to my gut.

Not yet.

Killing, I gather,affectsmost normal people. Heaps guilt upon them. Shame. Remorse. The feeling of being an outcast, having broken a cardinal rule of any functioning society, weighs heavy.

I’ve never been burdened by feeling any of that. Ever. It’s part of who I am. Yes, I’ve killed and feltinconvenienced. Or mildly annoyed. But never any of those other things.

Maybe being born an outcast made me this way. Different. Twisted. Broken.

But even still, even with my emotional detachment when it comes to taking a life, the idea of killingher…sits badly with me. It raises emotions I’m unused to.

Which is beyond fucking confusing, and a little infuriating. Especially since it should be the exact opposite. I should have less than zero qualms about cutting her throat after she tried to kill me—twice.

So why, for the first time in my life, do I suddenly have reservations when it comes to taking a life? Why does the idea of killing Una O’Conor sit so very poorly with me?

I swallow my thoughts away with the whiskey in my glass as Neve catches my eye through the crowd piling into the kitchen. She gives me a wave as she heads our way with Ares in tow.

“Care to fill me in on the details later?” Castle murmurs under his breath.

I nod, and my mask goes back on. The facade I hide behind, trying to look normal. To appear human. To keep from terrifying those around me by letting them see the monster I really am. Even Castle, who sees much more of my darkness than most, doesn’t know the true depth of it.

And that’s just how it has to be.

I smile as Neve crashes into me, giving me a bear hug before turning to hug Castle equally hard. I can’t help but smirk at the lethal shadow that crosses Ares’ face when his wife embraces my number two.

Despite the occasional rumors, of which I am very aware,no, there’s never been anything tawdry or untoward between either of my nieces and their—admittedly extremely handsome—bodyguard. I mean, Castle’s been their protector and even a bit of nanny since they were fourteen and twelve. He’s essentially a big brother to them.

But try telling that to the lethally overprotective man who married Neve. Even if he does know all that, there’s still no hiding the murderous glint in Ares’ eye whenever another man—family or not—evenlooksat his wife.

I have to say, I can appreciate it. In fact, that demonic possessiveness I saw in Ares—the way he was so fiercely protective and loyal to his family—is the main reason I ever agreed to allow my niece to marry the leader of one of our most bitter enemies.

Yes, from the way he yanks her back from Castle and wraps a possessive arm around her waist as he glares daggers at her one-time bodyguard, I’m more than sure I made the right call.

“God of War,” I murmur with a nod.

Ares shakes off the red mist and turns to grin at me. “Heard you have a lady friend, Cillian.”

I give Neve a look, raising a single brow.

“What, like I wasn’t going to tell him?”

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