Page 19 of Steel Rain

“She doesn’t strike me as a shiny dress type of girl,” I grumbled into my food. It was some kind of pork thing on a bed of vegetables. Bland, and healthy, I’m sure. Or something from their old country of Ireland which was not exactly known for their culinary delights.

“She was,” Eoghan said with a slight upturn in the corner of his lip. “Big on being a princess, and all that. I was surprised when she walked out on her wedding to join the Army.”

Dairo nodded, as if they were sharing the memory. Whatever they were thinking about, they didn’t say out loud, but it was clearly very funny because they both chuckled.

“You did mention a fiancé before,” I said, trying to move the conversation along while also getting some missing information. But I felt myself digging deeper and deeper into the Irish mob with every word.

I had erected a wall between me and them. Now, Sin was threatening to break it with a small nod of her obstinate head.

“Keith Bournes,” Eoghan chuckled. “He’s down in the city, doing some work with the Italians for me. Oh, he was livid when she disappeared after the rehearsal dinner.”

Dairo snorted in agreement but didn’t add to the conversation.

“She was supposed to get married on her 18th birthday. Everything was fully arranged.” Eoghan smirked, as if arranged marriages were a totally normal thing, and not the advent of a back-ass-wards world of their own making. “On her wedding day, she disappeared without a trace. No note, nothing. Just gone.”

Dairo leaned back in his chair, his humor melting away. He opened his mouth, and his deep, English voice added, “It took two years to find out she had joined the Army. And it was another six years before she came back.”

“That was two years ago, when her mother died,” Eoghan said, twiddling his thumb on the table in front of him. “She knows something.”

“Something about what?” I asked.

“About Kira.” Eoghan’s fist clenched. “And I’ve got a week to break the information out of that thick skull of hers.”

Kira, his wife. The runaway bride that was Eoghan’s sole obsession. Her name was whispered around like she was some kind of specter, ready to bust from the shadows.

The man was obsessed with finding her again. My opinion was that when something is lost, maybe it should stay lost. He was better off forgetting about her. She’s not that into you, bro. And it’s not like there weren’t a dozen Irish girls lining up to take her place.

“You think she helped her get away?” I asked, continuing with my passive interrogation.

“Maybe,” Eoghan said quietly. “Kira disappeared one night. Shiny was still here, though she was staying in a hotel and not on the property. She was taking care of her family and tending to funeral arrangements, so I couldn’t very well pull her fingernails off while the Flanagans were grieving their mother.”

He chuckled, as if the torture thing was a joke. But I knew better. This mother fucker would totally hurt someone for sport.

“Shiny’s timing was rather odd,” Dairo agreed. “Maybe we should have questioned her.”

I didn’t love that nickname. There was nothing shiny about her. If anything, she glistened, like moonlight reflecting on a fast-moving river. It was more mysterious than just a simple shine, like what you see on a disco ball. She was like the glow on morning mist before the sun peeks over the horizon.

“If I thought Kira would be gone this long, I would have hung her upside down, and bled her dry.” Eoghan’s words made my skin prickle.

“Are you serious?” I asked, even though I kinda knew the answer. I just had to voice my disbelief somehow. I badly wanted these men to know that their way of life was not fucking normal!

“I’ll happily genocide a truck load of orphans, nuns and kittens if it means getting my Kira back.” The sobriety with which he delivered that line was disturbing, and made me lose my appetite entirely.

“Have you … specifically picked out a truck of orphans?” I grumbled under my breath, but Eoghan ignored me, as he was prone to do when I was making smart ass remarks.

“She knows something. I feel it in my gut. She had something to do with it, and I don’t know why, or how. But I will find out.” There was a venom to his voice, and a malice in his eyes that could scare the fuck out of Death himself.

He was perfectly at home in the land of ancient furnishings and old-world surroundings. This mansion could have been plucked out of any old estate from Ireland and dropped right here in Up-State New York. Complete with the creaky ghosts in all the corners. The place had the cold feel of a mausoleum, and he was its keeper.

“And what will you do with the girl when you find out her secrets?” I felt my hackles rise, wanting to defend her, but knowing I couldn’t. I amdetachedfrom their politics and drama. I could keep my boundaries clear. I didn’t need to take part in any of this. I shouldn’t know any of this!

Eoghan reached out his hand and took a drink of his tiny glass of vermouth. An extra dry that tasted bitter and sour. It matched the aura of his soul.

Eoghan turned to me with a strange smirk. “I think that will depend entirely on you.”

“Me?” It was impossible to evenfakebeing relaxed around this man. It was the strangest thing.

I have sat across from warlords, and made tentative peace with enemies of the state to accomplish a goal. To save more lives. And I could relax the muscles of my body to seem in control and at ease. But in front of this man? I was nothing but tension. Coiled and ready to strike, while alsolikinghim on a strange, animalistic level. Like two wolves circling, and choosing not to strike out.

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