Page 18 of Killaney Fire

Once I'm dressed, I give myself a once-over in the mirror. Perfect. It looks like I didn't just wake up furious at the world.

I grab my keys from the nightstand, my bag from the chair, and head downstairs.

When I get to the bottom, I pause and listen.

No footsteps. No voices.

I didn't stick around long enough to get the full details of how things would start today, but if Octavian's already here, he's probably waiting by the front entrance like some kind of stone statue.

Which means I should be able to slip out the back.

I move quickly, going through the side hall toward the garage. The marble floors betray my steps, so I try to keep them light.

I push through the door into the garage and scan the rows of cars.

My all-black Range Rover's parked in the third row, gleaming under the overhead lights.

I click the key fob, and it unlocks with a chirp.

I slide into the driver's seat, toss my bag onto the passenger side, and start the engine. The purr of the motor fills the space, smooth and powerful.

The garage opens, and I pull out.

When I turn left onto the main road, I look in my mirrors. No one's following.

I exhale slowly.

For now, I'm free.

I turn on the radio and start singing.

Bistro Marque sits on the corner of Main Road, all glass windows and white tablecloths. It's the kind of place where the coffee costs twelve dollars and the pastries are arranged like art and cost just as much.

I park in the lot behind the restaurant and walk around to the front.

When I walk in, Delores is already seated, perched near the window in her signature powder-blue suit.

She waves when she sees me, her smile bright and calculated.

"Keira, darling!"

I plaster on my own smile and cross the room, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

"Delores. You look stunning."

"Oh, stop." She waves a hand, but her smile widens. "Sit, sit. I already ordered you a cappuccino."

I settle into the chair across from her, smoothing my blazer.

"You're a lifesaver," I say.

"Well, you know me." She leans forward, lowering her voice. "I can't help myself. I see you on the schedule, and I just have to make sure we connect."

"I appreciate it," I say, keeping my tone warm. "Truly."

She beams.

The waiter brings my cappuccino, and I take a sip.