Ciara stared at the blood seeping from the bullet wound. The injury went right through the Celtic cross tattoo on her upper arm. She flexed the muscle slowly. "I think it missed everythin' major," Connor remarked off-handedly as she opened her duffel bag and came out with a roll of gauze bandaging. She shook her head, glancing up and managing a half-hearted smile to appease him.
"So, what now? Where do we go?" Kiley asked. She had worn out shock and grief for the moment and seemed quite clear-minded.
"Well, we could go visit Doc an' see 'ow he's doin'. A little drink wouldn't go amiss neither," Papa MacManus suggested. "We'll find a place to stay 'til the press has gotten tired of tellin' this un." Murphy nodded distractedly, lighting up another cigarette and taking a deep drag. His knee twinged, and he grunted with the pain.
"Come on then, what're we waitin' for?" Connor asked, pulling Kiley to her feet.
"Go wi'out me," Ciara said moodily, pulling the bandage tight before tying it off. "I think I'll take a walk." Kiley shook her head when Papa made to protest. Shrugging, he led the way out the front door, sidestepping a body. Smecker followed him, but glanced back over his shoulder at Kiley and Connor, who hesitated for a moment before joining them. Murphy didn't follow them directly. He sat down next to her on his bed, saying nothing. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, took another drag from his cigarette.
"Wanna discuss somethin' Ci?"
"I dinna plan on killin' anyone when I came out here," she said. "An' I couldn't even stutter the family prayer to send these bastards to their rest. I was strong for Kiley, but I think I need a good cry. I dinna want you to see me." Murphy nodded slowly.
"I'll go then. The pub's right aroun' the corner…"
"But now I don' wanna be alone." Ciara reached her hand out and her slender fingers closed around his wrist. Murphy was riveted to the spot, not expecting the strange feeling in his chest. "You an' Connor are so close. Like me an' Kiley, only we're separate people. You an' yer brother work like one clock, ticking together. I wish I had that kind of closeness with someone. I feel so different from everyone else. Back 'ome I catch 'ell from the parents of any man interested in me. I am not tame enough to make a good Catholic wife. I don' even know if I wanna be a wife. I am just under a lot of pressure. An' now, seein' what I am capable of under strain, I am afraid o' myself." She drew her breath sharply in her chest, staring at her feet.
"Connor an' I are terrified every day. Da was always in an' out o' prison, he's been doin' this damn near 26 years. Even he can feel it."
"What do ya mean, Murph?"
"You ever heard of the Saints?"
"You mean those avengers for God that roam aroun' this city?"
"Aye. Well, we've been taking crime out from the inside, hittin' a new target every other night. No one will ever turn us in, they know what we're about. Even the police help us out." Ciara shook her head, cocking her head slightly to meet his eyes.
"You, the Saints? That's why all this happened! They targeted ya! Yer fugitives in an Urban 'Ell." She had accepted that fact with more ease than Murphy had expected. But then, he never would have thought Kiley capable of taking out an assailant with a gun, either. These young women had hidden depths, something like the brothers, but more defined, more individually developed. Murphy found Ciara's struggle to stand out quite attractive. She was a pretty woman, but not expectant of any praise. She didn't change herself to impress anyone, and he respected her for that.
"What will ya do?" he asked her after a moment's silent contemplation. "Will ya go 'ome, pretend that this never happened? Or will you rise up to the path God 'as set before ya and join me an' Connor an' Da?"
"It isn't fair to ask me tha' alone. It should be Kiley's choice, too. But I will stay if she'll allow it." Murphy took her hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze. His blue eyes changed intensity, sparkling with mischief.
"You won' regret it, I swear." Murphy leapt to his feet, picked her up, and twirled her around. "What now? Wan' to join yer sis and my family?" Ciara nodded, allowing herself to be swept off down the hall.
"I got the perfect spot," Smecker said as he hung up the phone on the counter. "One o' my boys is on an extended vacation. He'll be gone for at least a year touring Europe. He offered his place to you, if you'll make it look occupied so he doesn't have to keep paying the neighbor boy."
Doc had outdone himself redecorating. He had put in new mirrored glass behind the bar and refinished the old oak counter with a fresh coat of resin. A couple of venerable Irishmen played at the pool table. They had an ashtray overflowing with butts resting near a corner pocket, along with a couple of pints of beer. Otherwise, the place was quiet. Connor was nursing a bottle of whiskey, allowing Kiley to pour him shots so his glass wouldn't be empty. She was taking swigs straight from the bottle, wiping an arm across her mouth as her sister walked in with Murphy.
"Took ya long enough, fool," Connor greeted him, clapping his twin on the back. Connor was always happier when he had had a few. Tonight would be no exception, Murphy knew.
"So, where we stayin'?" Murph asked Smecker. The agent passed him a slip of paper with an address on it, and Murphy broke into a wide smile. "Eh, Doc! Martini for the agent!" Doc bustled out from the back room.
"Keep yer h…h…hat on, Murph. I'm comin'. You know what they say. Never look a gift horse in the pan."
"Eh?" Ciara asked, eyebrows raised.
"Doc 'ere 'as a certain gift for words," Connor told her, smirking.
"Aye, a gift for mixin' 'em," Murphy finished, laughing and smacking his brother on the shoulder.
"Will ya be goin' 'ome then?" Papa asked the girls as Ciara pulled up a stool. Ciara glanced down the counter at her sister, who met her look with hardened resolve.
"Nay. We stay."
"WOOOO!" Connor whooped, slamming a fist on the counter. "Mikey, I think 'e likes it! " Ciara shook her head and burst into laughter, and for once, it sounded sweet and feminine to her ears. God had shown them the way.
"We need to study this new breed of enemy. Obviously 'e knows more about us 'n we thought. We were feeling too safe, not moving enough." Papa MacManus paced back and forth across the carpeted living room floor of their commandeered residence. Connor and Murphy followed him with their eyes, all their attention was his. "Yer sure ya wan' to get the women involved?"
"I think that's really their choice, don' you?" Connor said coolly.
"Aye, Da. Their minds seem rather made-up. An' I know they can take care o' themselves. They won' be a liability." Kiley entered the room then, dressed in a pair of hemmed jeans and a tanktop belonging to her sister. Like the brothers, a bit of her rosary beads shone from around her neck, falling below the line of her shirt. Connor opened his mouth, looking shocked. Murphy smiled lop-sidedly and laughed maniacally as she finished the ensemble with a black trenchcoat. Kiley made an elaborate bow, as though saluting them. This caused further laughter. "Very stylish," Murphy remarked. "I must get the name of the designer…" Ciara was in the kitchen, changing the dressing on her arm. This was punctuated by a long stream of curses.
"Are ya all righ' Ci?" Kiley called.
"Christ! Fuck! Ya. I'll be fine."
"'As a mouth like a sailor, that 'un," Papa said. Smecker smirked, tightening his tie.
"Luk at our da," Kiley replied. This comment was punctuated by Ciara repenting the use of the use of her last curse.
"Mother o' God! Hail Mary, full of grace…"
"Now, now," Connor clucked in mock disapproval.
"I'll be giving 'er some 'elp," Murphy said, exiting the room.
"Anyone else seein' a trend?" Connor asked quietly, stifling a chuckle.
"Yes, and it seems to affect you too, if my eyes serve me," Smecker returned. As if to prove the point, Connor chased Kiley as she followed Murphy into the kitchen. Ciara had been burning the wound with a metal ladle heated over a candle. Her rosary was clenched tightly in her left fist as she burned away with her right.
"Was getting' infected," she explained through gritted teeth as she reheated the ladle for another go. Murphy winced as the next stream of curses punctuated the scent of crisped flesh and the rise of smoke from her skin. "Ruined a perfectly good tattoo, as well," she added, holding out her arm. Connor blinked back tears of pain just watching her do that to herself. Kiley sat down and unwrapped her wrists.
"I 'ad a thought," Kiley said slowly. "If they wanted to get ta ya by hurtin' us, why not put us up as bait? They're bound to come 'round an' try to finish us. We just hafta be in the right place at the right time, an' they have ta think you aren't there."
"You think that's safe?" Smecker asked.
"Why is this any diff'rent for a woman than a man? We all have hearts that beat, and souls that link us to the Lord eternal," Ciara snapped.
"Aye, an' yer not a good Catholic yerself from what I 'eard," Connor said teasingly. Murphy took the gauze and began to roll it around Ciara's arm as she berated him for his skills.
"Tighter, Murph. I ain' even feelin' it yet!"
"I don' wanna 'urt ya," he replied.
"I'll teach ya pain, ya great sissy!" She punched his arm.
"Wha' was that for?" he whined.
"Ah, L'amour," Papa said, nudging Smecker. "Sounds like the young 'uns 'ave a plan. Ya may as well sleep the day away. Tonight, we start 'untin'." Smecker nodded in agreement, waved to Connor, who inclined his head and winked, and left. "I'm off to bed. Don' be playin' too rough now. Ye'll disturb my beauty sleep."
"Aye, an' a lot o' good that's doin' yeh!" Murphy's mocking voice rang in his ears.
"Get yer fuckin' beauty sleep!" Connor added, chuckling as Murphy pulled a face and crossed his eyes. Ciara rapped him smartly between the eyes, and he raised his hands to his face defensively.
"S'nuff, both o' yeh. Let yer poor da git 'is rest," Kiley chided, toying with Connor's fingers as he rested a hand on her knee.
"I think we all should rest," Connor suggested softly, eyes half-lidded with weariness.
"We 'ave ta share a room," Murphy remarked. "Two beds, four people."
"The floor it is," Connor sighed. Ciara took Murphy by the arm and dragged him out of the kitchen and down the hall.
"Git comfy," she ordered, pointing sternly to one of the beds. Murphy stared at her for a moment, not moving. Shaking his head, his took his shirt off, then pulled off his belt. He lay down on the bed, still slightly bewildered by her attitude. Ciara tugged the blankets over him, smoothing them as though she were tucking in a child. Satisfied, she slid off her boots and lay down on top of the comforter next to him, running her fingers through his hair. He swallowed uncomfortably, meeting her eyes with a mix of awe and confusion. "In case yer worried about my honor," she snickered. Murphy's muscular arm went around her waist, pulling her close. After a long pause, where their breathing broke an unsteady rhythm in the silence, he sidled close enough that their foreheads touched, and he could study her eyes more closely. Her eyes yielded no secrets to him, so he finally leaned in and kissed her; a gentle, if not timid sort of kiss, then opened his eyes in surprise as her arm went around his neck and she kissed him again, this time more deeply. "G'night," she managed to stutter. Before long she fell asleep, Murphy's arm wrapped protectively around her waist.
When Connor and Kiley finally did come to bed, the sight that greeted them surprised them. "What is she doin'?" Kiley hissed softly between her teeth, disbelief etched on her face.
"Nothin' wrong. See, the blanket's between 'em. No doubt yer sis came up with that idea. Murph never woulda done that on 'is own." Connor placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Some o' us are doers, and dwell less on the thinkin'. That's our brother and sister. Now, you an' I, we tend to be more cautious, think things through a little more. But we're no less reckless when the time comes to act. Yer sis mentioned you were worried about what I thought. Any reason?" Connor's question was simple enough, but Kiley felt her throat tighten and was glad for the darkness to cover the blush spreading across her cheeks like warm fire.
"Innit obvious I like ya? Yer brother caught it five seconds off the train. Said somethin' to me about it."
"I'm not used to women being attracted to me. I don' exactly have a magnetic personality," he admitted, fighting the urge to laugh as Rosengurtle Baumgartner came to mind.
"But ya do. Ya always showed up at the right moment, when that boy was bullyin' me, or when I just needed a laugh. Ye've always 'ad my back."
"Yeh've always been like family to us, ya know that." Kiley lowered her gaze, long lashes masking her pretty eyes. Connor's hand went to her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "What do ya want, Kiley?" Kiley's arms trembled slightly as she wrapped them around his waist and her head rested on his shoulder. His arms encircled her, drawing her in as she fought the urge to pull away. His warmth was comforting. He kissed her forehead, eyes closed as he wondered why he had never felt attached somehow to her before. It was as though God had sent the brothers angels to keep them anchored in reality while they did their work. His lips met hers, not demanding, but rather sharing in her kiss. Their blossoming relationship was more soft and slow than the more emotional, demanding love of their siblings. As Kiley got an extra blanket off of the living room couch and rested her head in the crook of his arm, Connor knew somehow that they were home, and everything was right with the world for a single moment, no matter what tomorrow's ominous cloud would throw at them. Sighing contentedly, he stroked Kiley's hair until he joined her in the land of sleep.