Chapter Six

Michael…

I’ve battled enraged Columbian cartel soldiers who were unhappy that we blew up their entire shipment of cocaine.

Then, there’s the time I had to break into a rival Mafia’s warehouse and kill eight men before my backup arrived.

I spent six hours on a roof in the rain and sleet once, waiting to take the perfect headshot on a slimy bastard in the building across the street who was tryin’ to run human cargo through our ports.

Difficulty and hardship I know. But here, at my family’s home? On feckin’ Christmas Eve when I am finally about to make Sophie mine?

A metric tonne of these Krampus-lookin’ motherfeckers are going to die because this shite is pissing me off.

I’m charging through knee-deep snow, calling for our security force on every channel we use and there’s nothing but silence. The guard house is empty; not a sign of our men, not even an overturned chair or a spot of blood. How do eleven men just disappear? The wind’s driving so hard that my footprints leading to the guard house have been swept by the time I leave it.

There’s no such thing as Krampus. But there are evil fecks who’d find Christmas Eve a grand time to murder my entire family and it takes more than one mask-wearing prick to make our entire security force evaporate and jam our communications system. I canna even get my phone to work.

Then, the lights in the mansion go out.

There’s a loud groaning sound as the house backup generator kicks the lights on. I head toward the kitchen doors and nearly trip over a lump in the snow. It’s Will, one of our newer recruits. The poor sod’s staring blankly up at the sky with a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.

Spinning in a circle, I spot more mounds rising out of the snow like macabre burial plots, eight more.

I want to roar my fury to the pale skies, but this isn’t the time. Hostiles have taken out our security and our communications and my family - and Sophie - are inside. There’s a blue-white flash, a thunderous blast, and a hole appears where the kitchen door used to be.

A figure moves toward the gaping hole and I see my first Krampus of the evening. Sophie is right; the bastard is wearing a huge mask, all fangs and fur, and a black tactical suit. Whoever these arseholes are, they’re professionals. There’s a savage satisfaction blooming inside me as I shoot him in the back of the head, the mask exploding off his face - along with a good bit of brains - as he tumbles forward. A high whine and a big poof! of snow to my right means they’ve got my location and I have to dive behind a pine tree, shooting the next two Krampus’s trying to get into the kitchen.

Another flash and an explosion rocks the grounds and I groan. That must be the entrance to the dining room on the other side of the house. Goddamnit! That’s two access points compromised. Did Da get everyone to the safe room? Are they still alive?

My aim’s worse as I fire bullet after bullet on the run, emptying my ammo clip as I race toward the explosion. I’m left with my knife and I leap, burying the Ka-BAR blade into the neck of another Krampus and then slit his throat, leaving him to bleed out in the snow. A heavy weight lands on my back, driving me into the snow and I roll, grabbing the pistol that the new Krampus is about to use to shoot me in the head.

The ice grinds into my face as we fight over the gun. He’s strong, the bastard and he gets in two good punches before I wrestle the gun loose and shoot him in the chest, throwing him off me.

Skidding into the main hallway, I see Sophie holding a sobbing Maisie and Mum hanging onto Jack as they disappear into the great room.

Feck! Not a good place for a final stand.

“Michael!”

Da’s by the double doors.

“Ya got everybody?” I shout.

“Aye! Get in here!”

We pull the heavy doors shut and turn the lock. The goddamn thing is for show, part of the elaborate brass fittings of the door handles.

“That’s not gonna hold them,”

I say grimly. “Cat! Help me barricade the doors.” She races over to help me shove a heavy leather sofa against the doors.

“They herded us here.”

Da’s furious, his lips tight and his eyes blazing. “They set off a series of explosions that pushed us in this direction.”

“We should have gone into your study, there’s guns all over the feckin’ room!”

Caitriona slams her shoulder against the heavy walnut coffee table to get it to move and we hoist it up on top of the couch. “Or the safe room upstairs!”

“We canna get that far,”

Da says tersely, “we canna risk their safety by being out in the open when we don’t know where they are.” He doesn’t have to look at the little ones for us to understand who he’s referring to.

The great room is long, running halfway along the front of the house and it’s where we gather for parties and family events. It’s also gonna be a fecking nightmare to defend. Too many windows. Too many doors leading to the outside. The only positive is a large assortment of heavy wood and leather furniture to use for barricades.

My nose is bleeding and I irritably wipe it on my shoulder.

“Are ya hurt?”

Sophie pulls an embroidered pillowcase loose and holds it to my face. “Are ya shot?”

“I’m fine, lass.”

And I am. Everyone that I love the most is in this room and I’ll fight the devil himself to keep them safe.