Page 15 of The Celtic Resolution

What do I do? Who do I call? Should I find the father?

Yes.

Actually, that’s the first thought that makes any kind of sense in my sea of a thousand internal voices. Crossing the street, I spare barely any thought for Evie or the hospital I left behind, or even the painkillers I’ll need to go back and get.

The only thing on my mind is a baby.

Baby with a stranger. How fucking reckless can I be?

“Cian?”

“Saoirse! Are you okay? Cormac told me you collapsed.”

“I’m fine?—”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not bullshitting, Cian, listen to me.”

“I’m listening.”

“I need you to do something for me. It’s urgent.”

“Anything.”

“I need a list of everyone who was at the masquerade ball last month.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone.”

“I’m on it. But… What is this about? Should you even be caring about this? I thought you were at the hospital.”

“Cian, please. Just do this for me.”

“Okay. Okay, I will. Love you.”

His words make me pause, and a sudden rush of heat warms behind my eyes. “I love you too. I’m okay. Promise.” He accepts my answer and hangs up, but I’m struck with the sudden urge tocall him back and tell him the truth. If anyone can understand a reckless mistake, it’s him.

But I don’t get a chance to call him back.

My thumb hovers over the button but before I can press it, someone collides with my back and arms clamp firmly around my body.

I’m barely able to react before I’m dragged down the alley.

7

BRUNO

Tracking the mysterious woman down was a challenge, but luckily, the Triad already had information I could use. Once they presented me with her phone number, it wasn’t hard to track her location and wait to catch her alone.

She kicks out her legs and manages a soft cry of alarm until my hand is over her mouth, muffling all of her noises. It’s not the first time I’ve killed someone and surely won’t be the last, but I’m rusty. Snatching someone off the street in broad daylight isn’t the smartest move, but hopefully, the obscene randomness of it will work in my favor. I just need to get her behind the trash can and shoot her. Quick and clean.

Exactly what she deserves for kneeing me so hard in the balls last night.

Her legs fly out and her feet seek purchase on anything nearby, so I guide my stumbling steps to stop her gaining a foothold to use against me. Tightening my arm across her middle, I use my weight to force her deeper into the alley until the bustling engines and passing horns of the busy New York City streets become soft background noise. The perfect score to accompany a back alley murder.

Her teeth catch on my middle finger, but I rip my hand away before she can tear a chunk of my flesh out. She yells in anger, but it trails off into a pained whimper as I throw her as hard as I can against the wall. With no way to support herself, she almost falls, but she’s fast and the woman quickly throws a punch in my direction. Her knuckles glance across my ribs as I narrowly sidestep and throw my elbow back into her face. It hits, sending her head back against the wall with an audible crack.