Chapter 32 Declan
DECLAN
The final bell rings and I'm happy with the evening. It's good to be back. Winning doesn't hurt either.
I catch Lyra coming up to me, and as soon as I turn to her, one of my fighters calls her into the ring.
She looks at me for a moment, frustration on her face, and then I watch as she ducks under the ropes and assesses my fighter.
We walk back to the medical office, and I just watch her work, doing what she does best. My fighter has a busted lip, a dislocated finger, and a sprained ankle.
I lean against the wall, and I catch her glancing at me as she stitches him up, pops his finger back in place, and wraps his ankle.
"You make it look so easy," I say as my fighter leaves the room, leaving just the two of us.
She shrugs, a smile on her face. "What can I say?"
I laugh and kiss her. "You're amazing. Ready to go?"
She looks around. "Uhh, yeah, just need to pack up."
"Okay," I nod. "I'll help."
We pack up and walk out of the room.
I stop and collect my winnings.
"Another great night, Declan," the bookie says. "Glad you're back."
I grip the fat envelope and hold it up. "Me too."
I turn and take Lyra's hand, and we make our way out. Nathan and George walk ahead of us, scanning the surroundings. Lyra's hand is warm in mine. I glance at her, catching her half-smiling, staring up at me.
"What's with the smile? Huh?" I ask, leaning close to her ear with a smile of my own.
She tilts her head up, eyes bright. "When we get home, I'll tell you."
We exit through the back, a quieter alley that leads to the gated lot where I parked. Nathan walks a few feet ahead, George a step behind, and I keep Lyra at my side, one hand on the small of her back. The night air feels cool against my skin as we leave the warm, stuffy warehouse.
We round the corner toward the car, and then I hear it.
A sharp pop. If you didn't know what a muffled gun sounds like, you'd never even notice.
But I do.
I feel the spray before I hear the scream. Warm blood hits the side of my face, and Nathan collapses in front of us, shot clean through the neck. Blood pools beneath him, spreading across the pavement like spilled wine.
"Fuck!" I yell.
Lyra's scream tears through the night as she clutches my arm. I pull my gun from my waistband in one fluid motion, pushing her behind me with my other hand.
"Stay behind me!" I growl, scanning the darkness.
Another shot cracks through the alley, and George grunts, spinning with a bullet in his shoulder before dropping like a stone.
My heart is a fucking drum, but my hands are steady.
I back up, pressing her between me and the wall.
I look around frantically, my gun moving with me, but I can't see anyone, and I'm not sure where the shots are coming from.
Silence falls, heavy and ominous. No footsteps. No breathing. Just Lyra's terrified gasps against my back.
"When I say run, you fucking run," I say, tightening my grip on the gun.
"I'm not leaving you," she says back.
Before I give her the order, we hear footsteps.
Four men, all armed, dressed in black with faces shadowed by hoods, fan out in front of us, guns raised.
And then a fifth man appears.
He's wearing a mask, and in his gloved fingers, he twirls something.
As he moves into the dim light from the streetlamp, I see it.
A single black feather.
My blood goes cold. This has to be the Morrigans. The same people who've been targeting our shipments. The same people who nearly killed me in that alley.
"Declan Killaney," the man says, voice distorted by some kind of voice changer. "You've been hard to pin down."
I shift my stance, making sure Lyra is completely behind me. "You're here for me. Leave her out of it."
The figure laughs, a mechanical robot sound. "That's not how this works. You took everything from us. We take everything from you. That's the balance."
I grip my gun tighter, trying to think my way out of this, beat the odds. Five against one. Lyra defenseless. I might take two, maybe three if I'm lucky, but not all of them. Not before they get to her.
The leader raises his hand, and the others tense, ready to fire.
He doesn't speak, just tosses the feather to the ground.
I exhale slowly, preparing for what comes next.
The first shot sounds like thunder, but it didn't come from my gun or theirs.
The masked leader's head snaps back. He crumples to the ground. In rapid succession, the other four attackers fall, one by one.
We stand frozen.
"What the fuck?" I say, gun still raised, scanning the rooftops, the alleyways, anywhere a sniper might be positioned.
Lyra grips the back of my jacket. "Declan," she whispers, voice trembling. "What the hell is going on?"
Footsteps approach from the shadows to our left. I swing my gun toward the sound, finger tightening on the trigger.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't shoot me after I just saved your ass," a familiar voice calls out.
Callum steps into the light, flanked by at least ten men, all armed and alert. They walk past us, checking the men they'd just shot.
I lower my weapon slowly, disbelief washing over me. "Callum, what the hell are you doing here?"
His expression doesn't change as his eyes sweep over the bodies, then back to me. "I was in the neighborhood."
"I don't—" I pause. "How did you know?" I ask, still holding Lyra protectively behind me.
Callum steps closer, his men spreading out from the bodies to secure the perimeter. Two check Nathan and George, but the grim shakes of their heads confirm what I already knew.
"Well, I started putting it together when our routes started getting hit with those feathers," Callum says.
"And then when you got ambushed in the alley, I thought maybe there was a chance it wasn't the Albanians reacting to you for what you did, or to get her.
" He nods toward Lyra. "I figured it was all connected," Callum continues, "and I was worried they were gunning for you first, whoever the fuck they are, so I had you tailed. Just in case."
Relief crashes through me like a wave. I've been carrying this alone, convinced I could handle it, protect everyone without burdening my brother further. Yet here he is, one step ahead of me all along.
I step forward and pull Callum into a tight hug, something we rarely do. "Thanks, bro. I have some stuff to share with you. I was trying to take care of it, not burden you, but it seems you were already at work."
"I know you were," Callum says. "But you don't have to take everything on yourself, Dec. You've got family. We're here for each other."
I swallow hard, nodding. "Yeah, I just… you know."
"Yeah, I know," he says and pats me on the shoulder.
His gaze shifts over my shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly. "She alright?" he asks.
I turn to look at Lyra and feel my heart stop. There's blood on her hands, smeared across her like war paint.
"Lyra!" I yell, rushing to her side. "Where are you hit?"
She looks down at herself, as if just noticing the blood. "I'm fine. I think a bullet grazed my thigh or something, I don't know. I didn't feel anything."
I drop to my knees, hands frantically searching for the source of the bleeding, but it's dark and I can't see well.
"You're definitely bleeding," I say.
Callum steps closer. "Take her home. I'll call Dr. Miller. He'll send someone."
"I'm okay," Lyra insists, though her face has gone pale. "It's probably. I’m fine. Really."
"No," I say firmly. "We're going. Now."
I start toward the car, then stop and turn back to Callum.
"Follow us."
He nods. "Was planning on it."
I get Lyra into the car, and I slide into the driver's seat, my hands leaving bloody prints on the steering wheel.
"You'll be okay," I tell her, starting the engine. "I promise."
She nods, but her eyes are distant, fixed on something I can't see. "Declan," she says as I pull away from the curb. "Those men. Who were they, and why were they going to kill us both?"
"I don't know yet, but they didn't," I say firmly. "And they never will."
I glance in the rearview mirror. Callum's sleek black Escalade follows close behind, a convoy of protection. For the first time since this nightmare began, I feel relief.
Whatever this is, whoever these Morrigans are, I'm no longer facing them alone.
I reach over and take Lyra's free hand, blood and all. "I've got you," I tell her. "Always."
She squeezes back and smiles. "Always and forever."