SWNOVELS Vicious Hearts: Chapter 16
The tension spreads through the room like ice cracking over the surface of a frozen lake. Like glass spiderwebbing under a weight it’s not meant to hold, until the whole thing collapses.
And when it does…
It shatters.
“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!”
Ares roars, like the gates of Hell themselves opening up, letting forth all the wrath the God of War can muster. He surges across the glass penthouse, stopping just short of where I’m sitting at their dining room table, and leers right into my face.
“Tell me this is a sick fucking joke.”
I inhale slowly. I’m not looking at Ares. I’m looking squarely at his wife, my niece, sitting across the table from me.
Neve.
Stoic. Unblinking. Unspeaking, but with about a million emotions flickering like barely contained wildfire behind her eyes.
“Answer me, you fucking Irish psycho!!”
Slowly I turn my head, pulling my eyes from Neve to let them settle on Ares.
“You will watch how you speak to me, God of War.”
His head shakes slowly. “No, Cillian. Not this fucking time. Are you out of your fucking mind?!”
I stiffen when he grabs the front of my shirt. So does Neve.
“Ares…” she murmurs warningly.
It’s her voice and her voice alone that can ever reach him when he’s this furious. And it does. He flinches, his nostrils flaring before he slowly exhales and turns to her.
“Let him go.”
“Love, we’re talking about—”
“Ares. Please.”
“You’ve got three seconds to take your hands off my shirt,” I growl quietly.
His eyes snap back to mine, considering. Then he shakes his head, hissing as he lets me go, and backs away.
“I mean, what the fuck, Cillian…”
Neve stands, moving quietly to her husband’s side and leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Take a walk, okay? I’ve got this.”
His jaw clenches. “Neve—”
“Please? For me?”
His stormy eyes burn into me, his head shaking before he turns away. “Fine.” He leans down to kiss her softly, and then he’s blowing out the door of their penthouse like a hurricane.
Then it’s silent.
Neve turns and walks quietly toward the bar cart in the living area.
“Neve—”
“Want a drink?” she mumbles numbly.
“Only if you’re joining me.”
She laughs a cold, brittle laugh as she pours two glasses of whiskey.
As if that was a question that needed to be dignified with an answer, after I’ve just told them that I’ll be marrying the daughter of the maniac who almost killed them both.
I follow her into the living area and sit on one of the sofas. Neve hands me a glass before taking a seat across the coffee table from me. Her face is impassive, her hand tight around her glass as she takes a sip.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “This isn’t something I ever planned for, and it’s not something I relish doing. Not given your history with—”
“Is she the woman you’ve been seeing?”
Her voice is brittle, and she looks positively ill as she asks the question.
“No,” I growl. “No, I…”
I could lie. I could sugarcoat this in a few ways to lessen the pain I know it’ll cause her. But fuck it, I’ve never been anything but honest with Neve. We’ve both been caught up in way too much violence and pain in the past to be anything but that.
“There is no woman. Never was. Castle made that up to explain why I’d been lying low. This woman…Seamus’ daughter… Someone put her up to killing me in revenge for Seamus. She tried and failed. I’ve been hunting her just as she was hunting me.”
Neve’s face goes white. “Cillian—”
“She was being strong-armed, if that’s any consolation. There’s someone above her, someone she doesn’t know. But Una has…” I frown. “Had… A twin brother. The person pulling her strings was holding the threat of killing him over her head. Except, the brother’s been dead for a year and a half. She didn’t know that.”
Pain and something that might be anger or hate flickers over Neve’s face. She’s quiet, saying nothing as she sips her drink.
“You know full well about the cracks in our empire,” I continue. “Coming from the leaked story about your father’s deal with the FBI in exchange for O’Conor. This stops those cracks from getting any wider, exactly as the old ways of marrying to end blood feuds have always been meant to do.”
Neve is still silent, her head turned away, gazing out the windows of the penthouse looking out over the Hudson River. Slowly, she turns back to me.
“So, once again, a Kildare is marrying a sworn blood enemy to stop everyone from killing each other.”
Just like her and Ares.
I sigh. “It appears so.”
A slight smile twists her lips as she takes another sip. Then her brow furrows slightly. “Do you trust her?”
No. I don’t know. Maybe.
“I have to,” I mutter. “Or there’s going to be a civil war.”
“That doesn’t sound like a very good answer.”
“Did you trust Ares?”
She arches a brow. “I trusted you to not have made the worst decision possible for me in marrying me off to him.”
I smile wryly. “And what did I do to deserve that?”
“You saved my life,” she shrugs. “That comes with perks, you know.”
We both drink in silence for a moment.
“Who do you trust, Cillian?”
My monster. My darkness.
Except it’s so hung up on tasting Una and devouring her that I’m not actually sure if I can trust it anymore.
“I’m not looking for your blessing here, Neve. Just your understanding.”
Her lips curl as she shakes her head, looking away again.
“That, you have. I’m just not sure about the first one.”
“And you never have to be, and that’s okay.” I frown. “Ares…”
She sighs. “I’ll deal with Ares. You’re going to have to allow him his anger, though.” Her jaw clenches. “After everything that happened. After what this girl’s father did. To me, to him…”
She shudders, and one of her hands crosses to the other, automatically rubbing the thin, pink scar there on her wrist that’s gradually healing.
Seamus’ mark.
“I’m sorry. I realize this must bring it all back.”
“It’s…fine.”
“It’s really not.”
“But it is what it is, right?” She smiles wryly at me.
“Apparently so.”
Neve shrugs. “So, you think that should be our new Kildare family motto? ‘Well, fuck it. Guess I have to’?”
I chuckle quietly, sipping my drink. “I’ll look into commissioning a family crest with that on it. Maybe even have it translated into Latin, to sound more posh.”
“Perfect.”
I smile at her. She smiles back.
“She’s not her father, Neve,” I murmur quietly. “For whatever that’s worth.”
Her lips curl into a small grin. “I suppose it’s worth something.”
We finish our drinks, I get up to leave, and Neve stands and hugs me tightly.
“You have my understanding already, Cillian. I’ll work on the blessing.”
“Your understanding is all I ask for.”
I pull away and head for the door.
“Cillian—”
Neve’s voice stops me halfway out. I glance back to see her grinning a dry, amused smile.
“Welcome to arranged marriage life. Congratulations.”