Taken. A shiver ran down her spine. He’d absolutely, thoroughly taken her.
“I’ve cared for years,” she said honestly. And every mission Fionn had been on had been torture. Waiting for news. Waiting for him to come home. Waiting for the next time she’d see him or he’d walk into her office. Always waiting, waiting, waiting. Because it was all she had—and because after each visit, each moment she’d lain eyes on him, the waiting had started all over again.
She passed Siobhan a handful of forks, but instead of taking them, Siobhan laid her fingers on Lyse’s wrist. “Love…” She stared deep into Lyse’s eyes. “I don’t know what will happen here. And I don’t know what will happen after we get ourselves out of this mess we’re in. But I do know one thing.” A smile lit her solemn gaze. “I’m glad Fionn has you by his side.”
Something in Lyse’s heart melted at the softness of Siobhan’s words, the caring. She thought back to last night, to the consideration Fionn had shown her, the pleasure that had shattered her into a million pieces, then put her back together again. “I’m glad too. I’d do anything for him.”
She already had. And she knew that, given similar circumstances, she wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. Not if it meant keeping him safe.
Chapter Twenty-Five
He kissed her before he walked out the door. He’d never done that before. In front of his mam and Deacon and everyone, he’d kissed Lyse before going off to battle.
Well, not exactly a battle, but a mission. They had zero intention of engaging the enemy. Anything could happen, and Mack wouldn’t risk Siobhan being left with one less protector any more than Fionn would.
But that kiss… He shook his head, willing away the tightening in his groin.
He’d noticed Mack kissing his mam as well, his strong arms making her tall frame seem small as he held her. Fionn couldn’t have imagined Siobhan with anyone but his father, but now…they fit. He was grateful she’d found a man of honor, a man Fionn could respect.
Mack and Deacon passed out equipment while Fionn drove. “I’ve only got the two vests,” Mack said, handing one to Deacon.
“Keep it for Fionn,” Deacon said. “I’ll take sniper position.”
Mack nodded and shrugged into his vest. Fionn watched his eyes go wide in the rearview mirror when Deacon opened the heavy case he’d brought with him.
“Holy feck!”
“Speechless, yeah?” Fionn said. “Nice to go in fully equipped.”
Mack whistled, low and sharp. “Global First takes care of ya well.”
Deacon chuckled. “This is my private collection, actually. I didn’t have time to gather too much from the office.” He leaned closer. “You should see my wife’s.”
“Twice as big,” Fionn threw over his shoulder.
Mack grinned, then sobered as he watched Deacon take out the weapons. “God willing, we won’t need it.”
Fionn and Deacon agreed.
They parked off the road a couple miles out and walked in. The nice thing about Fionn’s homeland was the amount of forest, bisected by tiny roads that barely fit a whole car, much less two. The woods around the abandoned estate they were approaching were thick, dense, which made for slow going but kept unwanted attention away.
About thirty yards out, Deacon went high in an ancient oak so thick Fionn couldn’t have closed his arms around it, giving them a bird’s-eye view of the clearing around the house.
“Watch who you shoot,” Fionn warned him. He kept his wink on the side Mack couldn’t see.
“Hey, I only nicked you once.”
Mack’s eyes narrowed on Deacon’s back as he climbed away from them.
“Okay, twice,” Deacon said in their earpieces, laughter in the words.
Fionn grinned. “Pain in the ass,” he shot back.
Mack, catching on, huffed a laugh as he turned in the direction of the manor house. “He’s like your brother, yeah?” he asked quietly, not using the line that connected them to Deacon.
“No ‘like’ about it. Deacon’s been my brother since the day we met.”
Mack nodded, and Fionn knew he’d probably fought with men he considered family as well. “I’m glad you had someone close. I know your mam struggled with you being out there on your own.”
Fionn shook his head even though Mack, in front of him, couldn’t see it. “She was alone too.”
“She was,” Mack agreed. “But it’s a woman’s nature to worry about her children. And especially for you, after what you’d both gone through. What you were heading into.”
Because he’d always been a fighter. He’d gone straight from garda to mercenary in some of the worst parts of the world. “Comes in handy now, though, yeah? Ferrina had no idea what he was up against when he decided to come here.”
“No idea at all.”
“Watch out for the puppies,” Deacon said in his ear.
He cursed under his breath. That was code for the guards ahead have dogs with them. “Leashed?”
“Yep.”
At least they had that goin’ for them. Mack paused ahead of him and tested the air, then angled west, staying downwind of the animals. They moved with even more caution now, with the kind of silence only men familiar with hunting woods like these could attain.
The stone three-story house had once been a manor according to Mack, abandoned in the sixties for reasons no one in the village remembered, left to rot. Electricity still worked—the soft orange glow in the windows of both the main building and a carriage house to one side spread uninhibited by trees or vegetation in the clearing that surrounded them. Ferrina knew the value of seeing your enemy coming.
The upper floors of the manor appeared empty, though on closer inspection Fionn caught the occasional shadow passing a window. Guards. The first-floor windows were covered with something pale—sheets, maybe?—that blocked sight but still allowed light out. Three guards that Fionn could see patrolled the grounds, two with leashed dogs at their sides. Other men entered and left the carriage house. Probably where Ferrina was housing his men.
“Maybe a
