Crap, crap, crapdy crap crap. I muttered the mantra over and over in my head as I made my way back to Michael's loft. I thought I had everything for the move but no, I just had to leave my silver bow with the swirl carvings on it at Michael's loft. I wore ruby and gold raiment as I trudged up the stairs and walked in. I closed the door behind me as I looked around the loft but didn't see Michael.
"Michael?" I called out.
"I'm upstairs, Dawn." Michael answered, his voice depressed and full of sorrow. "What's that you're driving? It didn't sound like your motorcycle outside."
"It's a rental. I sold my bike."
"Really?" He sounded surprise. "Your bike didn't exactly have a pink slip."
"Fiona found a buyer that didn't mind, not at that price."
"This, uh- this moving out of town thing. If you're trying to make a point-"
"I'm not trying to make a point, I'm trying to make a change." I sighed as I walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. "I'm going home. Sean is expecting Fiona and me."
"We had one fight and you decide to go back to Ireland?" I scoffed and stood up.
"This isn't about one fight, Michael. If you didn't see this coming, then you're weren't paying attention. You're too worried about your own future. . . for there to be one for us."
"I'm not doing this for me. I'm out in the cold. The longer I stay there, the more I endanger everyone in my life." I wheeled around, my eyes blazing with anger as I stared up at him.
"Don't you pretend this is about us. It's about you! Which is fine. It's- It's just time I did what I need to do. . . too." It was silent for a moment. "Michael?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you seen my silver bow? The one with the swirl carvings on it? I need to finish packing and I think I must have left it here."
"Yeah. I, um- I think I saw it around here somewhere. I'll find it and I'll bring it to you. You're not leaving today, are you?"
"No." I turned and left the loft without another word.
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I sat at island in the kitchen at Fiona's apartment as a car pulled up outside. Fiona immediately took out her gun and stood in front of the door, her gun held high ready to fire at the intruder. She was clad in white and gold. Sean was on the other side of the room watching the door. The door opened, and Michael walked in with my silver bow in his hand. Michael looked questioningly at Fiona as she dropped the gun to her side.
"You remember my brother Sean?" Fiona asked him. "You met back in Ireland?"
"Michael McBride." Sean breathed in his thick Irish accent. "It's been a while. Last I saw you, you were saving my sister. . . from those English bastards that had her pinned down in Belfast."
"Yeah, it was a good thing they were such lousy shots, otherwise Fiona and I'd have been saying our last Hail Mary's together." Michael said in a fake Irish accent as he took off his sunglasses and walked over to Fiona's side.
"Glad you're here. We could use another man who can shoot a gun."
"Why is that?"
"It's bad news, McBride. Someone's coming to kill Dawnna."
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This is it." Sean snapped as he came down the steps of the second floor. "Don't you have any real guns?"
"We're in the middle of a move." Fiona barked back at him as she followed him down the steps. "All of my big toys are packed up on a boat, waiting to be smuggled back."
"America's taken its toll, Sis. You two have lost your edge and your accents."
"Hey! I can still have an accent. It's not lost." I barked at him in my Irish accent before returning to my American accent.
"O'Neill is looking for an Irishwoman." Fiona remind her brother. "I'm not going to let Dawnna hold up a neon sign that says, Here I am. Come blow my head off."
"Look, I'm way behind and it sounds like I can't afford to be, so start from the beginning." Michael said as he peered past the curtains of the window and scanned the parking lot.
"His name is Thomas O'Neill." Sean started to explain. "One of those ultra-radical bastards. Kind of man who'd blow up a church on a Sunday. Kind of man I'd love to kiss with a chainsaw."
"Well, that's a harsh way to put it." I muttered as I picked up my bow that Michael brought over and examined it with a smile on my face.
"And why does he want you dead, Dawn?" Michael questioned me.
"It's a long story."
"Talk quickly then."
"You don't need a history lesson, McBride." Sean scoffed. "All that matters is O'Neill's supposed to be making his move today. And we're not suitably armed."
"I'll make a call." Fiona sighed. "I know someone who delivers."
"We'll need some proper hardware. How quick can they get here?"
"Not quick enough." Michael said from the window. "Is that him?" I walked over to the window and peered out to the parking lot to see a black sedan pull up and men climb out with bullet proof vests on. The driver was tall with slicked back thin brown hair and dark sunglasses.
"That's Thomas O'Neill. Bloodthirsty hooligan got here faster than I expected."
"We need to move now."
"No." Sean pulled the hammer back on his gun. "I'm gonna teach the son of a bitch. . . how to breathe through the top of his skull."
"We're outnumbered. Do the math."
"But they think Dawnna's alone. We can dig in, surprise 'em."
"No, we can't. That's a trained extraction team. We leave now, or we die." Fiona led the way out the back with me behind her followed by Sean and Michael. Fiona opened the gate and peered around the corner before turning back to us.
"That's one in the corner." Fiona informed us. "He didn't see us." Without any signal, Sean left the group and started firing at the extraction team.
"Are you bloody stupid?" I shouted at him.
"Well, he's seen us now." Michael said. I shifted and took off running down the sidewalk with the others behind me. I hopped over an iron fence and into a neighbor's backyard. "We need a car, now."
"I'll get us one." Sean said. "Stay here." He disappeared behind some shrubs and down the street. As soon as he was out of eyesight, Michael rounded on Fiona and me faster than a black snake could bite.
"You never told him?" Michael snapped in his American accent, his voice laced with quiet thunder.
"No, Michael." Fiona said. "Not even a Glenanne would forgive me. . . for working with an American spy. Everyone at home still thinks you're from Kilkenny. Sean can never know."
"Don't worry, he won't."
"Better not." Michael pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"Sam, we have a situation. Someone's in town trying to kill Dawn. Fiona's brother Sean has come into town to protect her. So, we need a place to lay low. . . Thanks. And Sam? What have I told you about my time in Ireland?" A grey Honda accord pulled up and Michael put on his Irish accent as we ran to the car. "My name's Michael McBride and you're just gonna have to roll with it." Fiona opened the back door and I hopped in with her behind me and Michael in the passenger seat.
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We pulled up to a large foreclosed house. I peered past Michael's head and saw Sam standing in in front of the house in his usual attire. Sean turned the car off and got out and Sam walked over to him.
"You must be Sean." Sam introduced himself. "Sam Axe." Sam held out his hand for Sean to shake but Sean just stood there and stared at him. He looked like he was deciding whether to trust Sam or not. More like whether to kill him on the spot or not.
"Okay, Sam." Sean finally spoke. "What's your background?" Sam dropped his hand and his soft brown eyes hardened at Sean's hostility.
"We're doing background checks now? McBride knows me."
"Well, I don't know you."
"Enough, Sean." I snapped at my surrogate brother, getting out of the car with Fiona and Michael doing the same.
"I trust him." Michael informed Sean. "Fiona trusts him. Dawnna trusts him. Now so do you. We good here?"
"Yeah. It's a new foreclosure. My real estate buddy doesn't expect anybody here for at least a month." We followed Sam to the front door, and he opened it to let us in. Flanking us were two rooms: on my left a sitting room with a black marble fireplace, lots of comfortable, elegant but worn furniture, and bookshelves built into every wall. On my right: a dining room with a long, cherry wood table big enough for ten people—small compared to the dining room at the manor. Down the slender hallway ahead were a few more doors, ending in one I assumed would lead to a kitchen. A townhouse.
"Better not take that long to get rid of O'Neill." Fiona muttered.
"So why is this guy so hot for you, Dawn? I thought you bit the heads off all your old boyfriends." I bared my teeth at Sam.
"I met O'Neill while I was looking for the men who killed my sister." Fiona started to explain.
"You had a sister? You never mentioned that before."
"I don't like to talk about it."
"She was a delicate little flower." I murmured, crossing my arms over my chest.
"There were eight of us, including Dawnna." Sean said. "Five boys, three girls. Claire was the youngest.
"When she was taken, I was angry, and I was loud." Fiona continued. "O'Neill thought I was as radical as he was, and he told me about a bombing he was planning at a prep school. Dawnna did what Dawnna does best. She went in and made sure those explosives never made it to the target. She did better. She planted the bomb in the middle of their hideout and in the process, stole their entire shipment of guns. A few years later he resurfaced and came after her. It's one of the reasons why we had to leave home."
"After Dawn and Fi left, O'Neill disappeared again. I hoped he'd blown himself up. But then word got out Fi was in touch with folks in Dublin. Suddenly O'Neill is back on the grid and on his way to Miami. Because wherever Fi is, Dawn isn't too far behind."
"Right." Michael finally spoke. "Dawn, you, Fiona and Sean will stay at the house. Sam and I-"I let out a loud growl that cut him off mid-sentence.
"You and I both know that that's not going to happen." I growled through clenched teeth. "We'll find him faster if we all look."
"He knows you three."
"If you think you're dealing with him all by yourself-" Sean began to speak but Michael stopped him.
"We'll discuss the dealin' when we do the findin'. But Sam and I are doin' the findin'."
"First you say run, now you say hide. I crossed an ocean to tear a man's limbs off-"
"Sean." I held up my hand to silence him. "There's no point in fighting with him. Trust me." Sean turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. Fiona and I watched him go and once he was out of sight, Fiona stormed over to Michael and threw her finger in his face.
"This is not one of your damn jobs." She snapped.
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"I'm not sure this is a good idea, guys." I muttered from the back seat of the car. Fiona and Sean got impatient with waiting and tracked O'Neil down themselves. "Maybe we should just go back and wait for Michael and Sam like we're supposed to." Sean shot a glare at me from the passenger seat.
"Miami's changed you." He snapped. "You've gone soft." I narrowed my eyes to slits and let a growl rumble in my chest, baring my elongating canines at him.
"I promise you, Sean, that is not the case." Sean opened his mouth to say something else, but Fiona spoke up from the driver's seat.
"Shut up the both you." She snapped. "We're almost there. Get ready." Fiona pulled up to the side of the Grand Courtyard Hotel in downtown Miami and pulled out her gun from the center console while Sean got his automatic ready. "O'Neill is mine."
"I'll give you first shot, but when you miss. . because you broke a nail or dropped your purse, I'll step in and clean him up for you." Sean snapped causing Fiona to scuff.
"Dawnna, stay back. I don't want you getting hurt." I leaned forward to poke my head through the front seats to stare at her.
"Okay, first off, why the hell did you drag me along for me to just stay back?" I growled. "And second off, I can take care of myself. I can handle myself. I'm not some useless pup." She half turned her body to face me better.
"I dragged you along so you didn't go off telling Michael where we were and if you could handle yourself, you would have taken care of O'Neill when you first met him and then we wouldn't be in this mess right now."
"Michael had a plan, Fiona. He has a plan. And I think your memory is a little fuzzy so let me refresh it. I took out O'Neill's hideout and all his men."
"But you didn't take him out." I opened my mouth, but Sean interrupted us.
"If you two are gonna continue this catfight, then I'm going to go ahead and take care of O'Neill myself." He said. Giving me one last glare through her dark sunglasses, she pulled the car further down the road to the front of the hotel. In front of the steps to the entrance, O'Neill stood facing the street with at least six men behind him, all pointing guns in our direction. "They knew we were coming."
"Hmm, betcha wishin' that you waited on Michael, now don't you?" I breathed. Before we could try to defend ourselves, a crashing sounded in front of us and we looked up to see a red Buick falling off the top level of the parking garage next to the hotel. It made a sickening noise as it hit the pavement in front of O'Neill, its frame bending in odd angles, glass shattering. The distraction gave us just enough time to get the hell out of dodge.
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Fiona and I sat on the back of the sedan outside of Michael's loft with Sean leaning up against the side of it. We waited for about an hour in silence when the gate made of scrap metal squealed opened and a pissed off looking Michael and a worried looking Sam walked in.
"What part of Sam and I will do the findin' was unclear?" Michael lectured in his Irish accent. Fiona and I both opened our mouths to put our two cents in but Michael kept talking. "You get on my page now or someone's gettin' killed." Fiona and I exchanged glances, both knowing that we must have seriously pissed Michael off if he was lecturing this much. "No more ignorin' your phone. No more runnin' off without—"
"McBride, stop your lecturin'." Sean cut him off. "Why do you think we're here?" Michael finally stopped talking and lifted his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. "We came to apologize and say thanks."
"I mean, I'm not thrilled." Fiona muttered, leaning forward on her palms. "The bastard's still breathing."
"But I'm glad that we are." I finished, looking at both Fiona and Sean who nodded in agreement before shyly looking towards Michael and Sam, hoping that they weren't still mad.
"Sam, it—"
"Please, I've been dodging Miss Reynolds's calls for an hour. I'm sure the cops ran the plates on the Buick-" Sam said as he phone began to ring. "Oh, wait. Here we go." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the caller ID and sighed. "Yeah, that's her. . . again." He ignored the call. Michael took off his aviators and pinched the bridge of his nose. I'm sure it was his idea to run the car off the parking garage.
"Now that we've found O'Neill, how exactly are we going to deal with him?" I asked.
"He needs to find you." Michael said. "He'll want to talk with anyone who can help him with that, which gives me the in I need to get him and his whole team busted by the police."
"Right." Sean agreed. "But you can't just walk right up to him. As soon as you open your mouth and he hears your Irish—"
"I'll approach him as an American with a deal."
"Really? Sure you can pull that off?" Sam, Fiona, Michael and I all exchanged silent glances, trying to hide our smirks.
"I've gone undercover as an American before." Michael assured him in his normal voice. "I'll be fine."
"Dunno. Your accent's a bit dodgy." I had to look to my left away from Sean to hide that smile that took over my face as I tried not to laugh while Michael glanced over at Sam who held his pointer finger and thumb up with a little space between them.
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I sat on the steps inside the safe house, staring out into space and wringing my hands together, waiting for Michael to get back from his meeting with O'Neill. My mind kept changing so many directions so fast, I was surprised I didn't have whiplash. I kept thinking about Ireland. . . home. . . O'Neill. . . Michael. I rubbed my eyes with the palm of my hands trying to clear my mind.
"Uh-oh." Fiona's voice sounded to my right but I didn't look towards her as she sat down on the step just below me. "I know that look."
"What look?" I asked absent mindly, resting my elbows on top of my thighs.
"You're overthinking." I didn't answer her. "Talk to me, Dawnna." I was silent for a moment before opening my mouth.
"I miss home. I want to go back to Ireland. But I know if I leave, then I'll. . . then. . . I'll. . ." I couldn't finish my sentence. I couldn't bring myself to admitting it.
"Then you'll miss Michael." Fiona finished for me. I nodded once.
"And it's also unfair that we come to Miami and now I want to leave and go back to Ireland and that makes it unfair for you because you love Miami." Fiona half turned to me and rested her hand on my knee and looked up at me. I had to look away from her. Looking into those caring eyes would only make the tears starting to form in my eyes worse.
"Dawnna, I chose to leave Ireland with you. I'm choosing to go back to Ireland with you. It's my choice."
"I never should have gotten you and your family involved with my life because now O'Neill is after me which puts you and Sean and the rest of your siblings in danger."
"Never regret being part of this family. I have never regretted having you as my sister." I finally looked down at her, a tear escaping down my cheek. My Irish accent came through as my emotions struggled to stay intact.
"You and your family have always been good to me. You. Sean. Claire. Your mother. Your father. Which is why I didn't have a problem taking revenge after what happened to Claire." A moment without speaking went by. "Maybe when I get back to Ireland, I can finally just forget everything that happened here in Miami and just start over. Again."
"You mean just forget about Michael?" I didn't even acknowledge that she said anything. Sean walked into the foyer and I quickly wiped my cheeks and eyes with the back of my hands and cleared my throat, burying my Irish accent once more. He stared at me for a second before looking at Fiona.
"He didn't say why?" Sean asked her, obviously talking about Michael.
"No. He just said O'Neill called and we needed to be ready." Sean crossed his arms and leaned against the staircase railing.
"Dawnna, why are you coming home without McBride?" I shrugged my shoulders.
"People are who they are." I said curtly. "They don't change just 'cause you want them to."
"So, you're still in love with him?" I looked back at Fiona, my eyes pleading for her to help me before I killed her brother. The door to the house opened and we all moved, our bodies tensed and ready for a fight but relaxed when it was only Michael who walked in.
"You ready?" He asked in his Irish accent.
"Of course." Fiona said and stood up and I followed shortly behind her out the door to the car.
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Sam, Fiona and Sean laid on their stomachs on top of one of the dock buildings, rifles in their hands, watching Michael's every move through their scopes. I was off just to the corner of the building, hidden in the shadows, surveying the surroundings to make sure O'Neill didn't have any unwanted surprises popping up. Michael slowly made his way up the docks to O'Neill and his three men who stood by the water.
"Glad you came to your senses." Michael said in his normal voice, the sound coming in through the Bluetooth earpiece that we all had. O'Neill chuckled.
"That we'll see." He said, his accent thick and heavy. "Now talk."
"It's simple. I'll give you Miss Spider's location. You get to kill her. I deliver the girl and in return. . . you deliver a shipment of assault rifles to one of my buyers."
"I got a better idea. Fellas?" O'Neill pulled out his gun and aimed it at Michael while two of the other men grabbed Michael by his arms. I straightened up, my muscles tensing. I forced myself to stay put. Michael could talk his way out of it. "I'm gonna shoot little bits off you until you tell me where she is. Now where you want the first? You want your elbow or your bloody kneecap?"
"I really don't have time for this. Put the gun down or I'll have you put down." Three red dots appeared on O'Neill's chest as Sam, Fiona and Sean turned on their lasers and aimed their guns on him.
"I'm not sure you've taken stock of the situation." O'Neill finally looked down at his chest to see the dots and then looked back at Michael. "Well, there you go, eh?"
"You couldn't be trusted, so I brought insurance. Take your hands off me and put the gun down." O'Neill lowered his gun slightly and the two men let go of Michael.
"Gun goin' down." O'Neill growled as he dropped his gun down to his side.
"Very good. You can follow orders. Now, tell me we have a deal." O'Neill looked down at his chest again and rocked from side to side. The team kept their lasers on him as he moved back and forth.
"If you stop lighting me up like a little Christmas tree, then maybe we will have a deal, yes." Michael didn't even turn around or take his eyes off O'Neill as he waved two fingers in the air.
"All right, that's the signal." Sam said. "Turn 'em off." Two of the lasers disappeared from O'Neill's chest but one still remained in the center of his sternum. Panic struck me as I frantically followed the laser from O'Neill's chest to the end of Sean's rifle. "Sean, what are you doing?"
"I can take them all out." Sean said.
"That is not a risk that you get to take." Fiona whispered, his voice laced with quiet thunder.
"I just agreed to your deal." I heard O'Neill said.
"Simple miscommunication." Michael chuckled nervously. He half turned to face us and waved his fingers in the air twice more.
"Sean, they're gonna kill McBride." Sam said.
"No, I can get them all." Sean tried to assure him. I fought the urge to shift and run towards Sean and force him to turn off the laser, but I knew my white coat against the darkness would draw too much attention to our hideout. I had to stay put but not before letting out a menacing growl to let Sean know I wasn't playing around.
"Sean, turn the laser off before Dawnna comes over here and does it for you." Fiona ordered.
"It's your last chance, partner, or the deal dies right here." O'Neill growled raising his gun up to just inches away from Michael's face. I took a step out of the shadows, my nails and canines growing, preparing themselves for the phase. "So do you. Get this off me. Do it." Michael turned around again and fiercely shook his fingers once more in the air. I growled again, just a little bit louder than the first time and Sean shut his laser off. I sighed in relief and stepped back into the shadows, calming myself to allow my nails and canines to grow shorter.
"Wasn't so difficult, was it?"
"We'll talk soon." Michael said hastily and turned to walk away from the near death moment.
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A bag thudded on the wooden work bench behind Fiona and me as Michael heaved a bag of tools and supplies on it. Fiona taped a blueprint of a bomb on the wall and took a step back to review it.
"That's everything on your list." Michael said in his Irish accent and took off his aviators. "Time to bring Thomas O'Neill's monster to life.
"Meet O'Neill's signature bomb." Fiona said, pointing to the blueprint. "He's trotted that thing out twelve times and never been caught. Let's make lucky number thirteen the one that links him to all his uncredited work.
"Fiona." Sean called to his sister as he walked into the loft from the balcony, hanging up his cell phone. "You remember Jack Tracy from the bicycle shop by the church? I just got off the phone with him."
"The old guy. He was good to us."
"Right. Real plugged in to the underground. Well, he's got bad news. There's a rumor that O'Neill's taking Dawnna home, putting her up for sale." My blood ran cold and drained from my face. I remember coming across the auction block back in Dublin. It was not a pretty sight. "Sounds like there's a number of folks. . . with ample reason to hate Dawnna Spider already showing interest." Fiona and I exchanged worried glances.
"That could be a lot of people." I told her. The list of potential buyers was too long to keep track of in my mind.
"Seems O'Neill is lookin' to raise his profile back home. Thinks you're his ticket. I should've force-fed him a bullet when I had the chance."
"If you had, you three would be havin' this conversation alone." Michael said. Sean turned to him, fury and pride flashing in his blue-brown eyes.
"I could've put them all down, McBride. I had a clear shot."
"Did you have five clear shots?" Fiona and I sat down on the stools by the workbench and I rested my left cheek on my fist, watching the dispute between the two men. "I think you're overestimating your ability to hit five moving targets."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
"Well, how 'bout I—"
"How 'bout you shut up!" Fiona yelled, her Irish accent escaping. Both men stopped arguing and turned to look at her. "We have work to do," She said in a calmer tone, her accent disappearing.
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"Rat poison?" Michael inquired as he finished up the bomb with Fiona.
"It contains an anticoagulant." Fiona explained. "He likes his victims to hemorrhage and bleed out. He wants them to suffer."
"He does it for the headlines and the pictures splashed on the front page." Sean added as Michael's cellphone began to ring.
"He blows up people just to spread fear." Michael held his phone out to Fiona to show her the caller ID. "Go. Pick up some screws while you're there."
"You three play nice." Michael said before leaning over the workbench to get closer to Sean. "You think you can handle that?"
"Guess we'll find out, McBride." Sean retorted.
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"Thanks," I mumbled to Fiona as she took my paper plate to throw it away. I wiped my hands on my jeans before turning to finish taping the boxes on the ground. Fiona's snow globes. My glass cups. Numerous things we both collected through our time here in Miami. It somehow felt wrong to take them out of the place they were purchased from. Michael came in from the other room with two more boxes in his arms and set them on the foldable table.
"McBride." Sean called from the other side of the house. "I'll be right there."
"Right, Sean." Michael replied. "This is the last of what you packed." I brushed the dusty feeling of cardboard off my hands and stood up to face him.
"It's a shame to leave so much behind." Fiona said coming back from the kitchen. "I was just getting comfortable." I titled my head to the side and looked at her with a hurt expression. "Kidding, Dawn. I'll be glad to be back home." My expression changed to disbelief and she held up her hands in surrender and left the room once more.
"I know you're trained to walk away from everything in thirty minutes or less, but—" My voice trailed off as I strolled over to the patio door to look out into the well lit backyard. The grass was vibrant and green even in the blazing Miami heat. The water in the in ground pool rippled in the wind, casting sunburst rays.
"It's not easy from everyone." Michael finished for me, leaning against the two boxed he brought in. I sighed, not turning away from the door.
"I can't believe in a few days I'm gonna wake up back home."
"And you'll be you again, Dawn." I half turned my body to lean my shoulder against the pillar next to the door.
"I wonder what it'll be like." Michael made his way over to my left side to look out into the backyard with me, but he stared out for a second before I felt his eyes on me.
"You'll have your family."
"They don't know me anymore."
"You're still the same person."
"No, I'm not. Who I am now has so much to do with what I've done here, what I've done with you." I slowly lifted my eyes to his sea foam green eyes. They were soft and warm, inviting and tempting. I quickly looked back outside before I allowed myself to fall further into this bottomless hole.
"Dawn." He whispered my name in his normal voice. The way my name fell off his tongue had my heart breaking. It had me beating myself up over my decision to go back to Ireland. "I—" I looked back up at him, his eyes full of hurt and regret.
"It's okay, Michael. We're so not good at this." I tried to give him a forced smile but the look in his eyes told me I didn't succeed.
"McBride, everything taken care of?" Sean asked, walking into the room. Michael reluctantly turned to face him.
"Yeah, let's go, then." Michael said, his Irish accent returning as he gave one more quick glance at me before turning to walk away. "Sean, you have to stop parking your stolen car on the side streets." Fiona returned to help me carry some boxes. "It's too exposed."
"What? I left it in a parking lot this morning."
"That's not your Toyota a block away, parked behind some trees?" The hairs on my neck began to stand on end. I stopped in my tracks and looked around wide-eyed.
"Dawnna, what is it?" Fiona inquired quietly. Before I could answer her, glass shattered behind me. I spun around to see a masked man throw in a smoke grenade. My vision was impaired and in the chaos, I heard a muffled gunshot and Michael groan. I couldn't even see Fiona who was standing right next to me only seconds ago. Louder gunshots sounded and I rushed blindly into the smoke, trying to find at least one friendly. I sniffed the air to try to catch a scent but all I could smell was smoke. Serval hands shot out through the clouds of smoke and snatch me by my arms. Acting on instinct, I immediately tried to shift.
"The collar!" A male's voice shouted. My phasing stopped as my collar was torn from my neck and I resorted back to my human form but didn't stop me from pulling and resisting my assailants. "Get the girl! Get the girl outta here now!" I screamed in frustration as the men overpowered me and I couldn't pull free. I screamed as fear began to take over as they started dragging me.
"Michael!" I yelled the first name that came to mind. The first name that I thought could help me, but no one came as I was knocked out.
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A severe throbbing pain in my head woke me up and when I tried to lift my hands to nurse the agony, I found them tied behind my back. Panic enveloped me as I searched my surroundings. I tied to a chair in a rundown boat shack. O'Neill was leaning against a side table in front of me, twirling my collar in his hands.
"Dawnna Spider." He spoke and I just wanted to rip his tongue out to prevent him from ever saying my name again. "God, I've waited a long time for this moment."
"Oh, so have I." I scowled at him. "I am going to rip your throat out with my teeth. Is that how you saw it?" He laughed at my threat.
"I can't say I did, no. No, it wasn't like that. But don't worry, you'll soon be spending quite a bit of time. . . with some sharp metal instruments."
"You're putting me on the auction block. You're not man enough to do it yourself."
"If this was just about you and me, I'd be holding a bloody hammer. . . and you'd be chokin' on a mouthful of teeth, them pretty little teeth." My teeth clicked together as I snapped as his finger pointed at me but he pulled back before I could get the satisfying crunch. "But the thing is, it's bigger than us, you see. When I set foot on Irish soil, it's gonna be a whole new world for me. Because they are some very powerful men. . . who are gonna give me anything I want. . . in exchange for you, you see? Even a seat at the table."
"There's no place in Ireland for a bastard like you."
"There's always room for a patriot."
"You're no patriot. You're a monster. . . who wraps himself in a cause to justify murdering children! Even your own country wants you dead." If I had my collar on, I would have been able to prepare for that punch that came half a second after I stopped talking. Ignoring the pain that was now spreading throughout my face, I put on a brave face and stared O'Neill in the eye, spitting a mouthful of blood at his face. The metallic taste lingered on my tongue.
"You're wrong!" I chuckled, running my tongue along my teeth to lick the blood of them.
"Hmm, you hit like a girl." Before he could make another move, an explosion sounded outside.
"What the hell is goin' on?" All the men rushed to the window to peer outside and I saw O'Neill's shoulders tense. "Get to the boat. Get to the boat!" O'Neill roughly snatched me from the chair causing me to trip over my own feet as he positioned me in front of him as a human shield and walked out of the shack. I didn't have to see faces that it Michael, Sam and Fiona who were firing shots at the Irish men and thought I knew that their aim were true, it still didn't stop me from praying that they wouldn't shoot me. I felt O'Neill's grip on me wavering as he walked me backwards down the docks to the fishing boat. I looked around for an escape. There were men in front me, one man behind me and water on either side of me. The men in before me were too busy firing back at Michael, Sam and Fiona to pay attention to me so that only left me to deal with O'Neill, but then I would have to jump in the water and I couldn't swim. I never learned how to swim. But we weren't far from the shore. I was sure I could make it. I just had to get O'Neill away from me. Using all the strength I could muster up, I threw my head back into his nose and quickly turned to jump over the railing of the water. Two shots rang out before I hit the water and both shots hit their mark. One went through my arm and the other went through my right leg. The impact of the bullets knocked me off balance and my head collided with the edge of the wooden dock. Disorientated, I missed my chance to grab one last breath of air before the water engulfed me. Instincts kicking in, I tried kicking in the direction that I thought the shore was but it was a struggle with my hands still tied behind my back. I was making no progress. Then, the panic set in and I started to sink faster. The pain in my chest started to become unbearable. All I wanted to do was just to let the water in and get it over with but my basic instinct told me not to. Not yet. The edges of my vision blackened and everything became surreal. It became darker and darker until something grabbed me. My mind couldn't comprehend what happening. It couldn't comprehend that I was being rescued. Not until I was laying on the beach on my back. I blinked several times to try to bring my vision back into focus. Michael leaned over me, relief in his hurt eyes. After coughing up what little water got into my lungs, Michael scooped me up into his arms, careful of my bullet wound, and I leaned my head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and letting it calm me.
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I was in and out of consciousness on Madeline's couch. The bullets that hit me were laced with blue monkshood, potentially fatal to shifters if not treated properly. Without my collar, it just made the healing process worse. Michael's scent allured to be somewhat awake every time he sat down on the edge of the couch to check my wounds for infection. My mental being wanted to wake up and talk to him but my physical body wouldn't allow it so my eyes remained shut. Being in and out of consciousness, I lost all conception of time. I had no idea how long it had been since O'Neill. Eventually, I was slowly able to open my eyes. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the dim glow of the side table lamp. Voices sounded to my right. I slowly turned my head to see Michael and Sean talking with each other. Sean was laying on the window seat in the sun room with an IV hooked up to him. He must have gotten caught in the crossfire at the safe house. God bless him. Fiona or Sam was no where to be seen.
"Michael." My voice sounded raspy as it left my throat. Michael instantly turned at either the sound of his name or the sound of my voice. He made his way across the living room to sit on the edge of the couch, resting his hand gently on my left arm. I closed my eyes at the warmth of his touch and a smile escaped my lips.
"Yeah, Dawn." He whispered. I looked up at him and saw his eyes full of relief and calm instead of anger and hatred.
"Hey." He returned my smile.
"Hi."
"Where's Fiona?"
"She's out getting her house back."
"I wanted to, um—I wanted to—" I wanted to tell him thank you. I wanted to tell him I was grateful. I wanted to tell him that I was happy that I was staying in Miami. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but the words wouldn't pass through my lips.
"Don't." His hand moved from my arm to cup my cheek and once again, my eyes closed at the heat. "It's okay. We're no good at this." I exhaled and smiled as he stroked my hair to push it behind my ear. His presence began to lull me to sleep. "Are you in pain?" I mentally checked my wounds. There was some burning and itchiness from the healing process and underneath that was a small throbbing pain but it was bearable. I went to shake my head no but the movement sent a pulsing agony through my head. My hand involuntarily flew to grip my head as if the touch could somehow stop the agony. "I'll get you something."
"Michael. . ." I groaned but he left anyways. A few moments later, he came back with a glass and two pills in his hand and sat back down on the couch, holding them out to me. I slowly sat up and took them from him.
"This is new. I never needed pills. I always had my collar to heal me." I tipped my head back and dropped the pills in my mouth before taking a swig of water and swallowing them.
"Fiona looked through where you were being held and she couldn't find it. I'm sorry, Dawnna." I shrugged my shoulders as I took another sip of water but internally, I was really disappointed. Wearing that collar meant everything to be. Being a shifter meant everything to me. Without my collar, I was nothing. "You should get some rest." He took the glass of water from me so I could scoot down the couch and lay my head on the pillow. He pulled the blanket up over my shoulders before pushing my hair back behind my ear once more. "I'll be here when you wake up." And with that I drifted off into an easy sleep.