I whistled sharply to draw Brutus closer to us again and either my command or the scent of expensive meat drew him to obey as he prowled nearer just as I opened the dining room door. I caught his leash, handing it to Brooklyn and giving her a firm look to remind her to keep hold of it.
Brutus stalked inside, drawing an alarmed cry from Anastasia’s lips just as I crossed the threshold with Brooklyn very much beneath my arm and Jack hounding our steps.
“What’s the meaning of this, lad?” Pa called, feigning amusement while his narrowed gaze took in every single thing about me and the pack of wild animals I’d just brought into his home. “You know I don’t allow beasts in the house.”
“Do I?” I asked with a frown. “Because you let me in often enough, and I think most of the people currently perched around this dining table would call me a beast, yet I visit frequently.”
My supposed fiancée was sitting on the far side of the table alongside her father and several other Russian pricks, so she was getting a clear enough view of the little firecracker who was nestled beneath my arm alongside my Desert Eagle. Brooklyn gave a cutesy little wave to her as she looked right back, owning her power and making the corner of my lips lift.
Aside from the Russians, the table was once again filled with my brothers and sister, their spouses and kids and all other various blood relatives of mine who I disliked almost as much as I dismissed them. They were nothing to me. Not really. Never had been. Just a noose around my neck attached to a dead weight which I had always been fighting against while it tried to pull me down. But here and now, I was ready to cut the damn thing free of me for good.
“I thought you had better taste than to bring a whore to the dinner table, little Niall,” Roland scoffed and I drew my gun so fast that the first he knew of it was the bang of the shot being fired and the pain of his shoulder shattering as my bullet struck him and threw him backwards from his chair.
His wife screamed somewhat prettily, diving down after him and a couple of my nieces and nephews flinched, but mostly, the cold-hearted bastards sitting around the table just took note of my demand for respect and started paying a whole lot more attention.
“You’d better have a damn good reason for prancing in here and shooting your kin with a bunch of mutts in tow, lad,” Pa growled as he made a move to get to his feet, but I shook my head at him, wheeling my weapon his way.
“Uh, uh, Papa bear, no need to get up,” I said loudly, releasing my grip on Brooklyn and leaving her to stand with Jack as I stalked closer to him.
Brutus tugged on his leash and despite my commands to Brooklyn, she instantly released her hold on it, shrugging at me innocently as she let him do as he pleased. I sighed as the dog moved to walk at my side like a wolf drawn to its alpha, scenting the hunt as I locked my kill in my sight.
I whistled to my dog as I made it to the empty chair which had been left for me at my pa’s right hand and I pulled it out, pointing to the table in command.
Brutus dutifully leapt up onto the priceless mahogany, sending plates and glasses flying in every direction before dropping his scarred grey muzzle to Liam O’Brien’s plate and stealing his lump of prime steak straight off of it.
My father shoved his chair back, his upper lip curling in disgust as Brutus chomped away happily, splashing gravy from his chops and splattering it all over the pristine table linen while Anastasia jumped up with a disgusted cry.
“He won’t bite any of ya, unless I tell him to,” I said to the eyes which were all clinging to me, never once looking away from the man at the head of the table.
“He does get the chompies sometimes,” Brooklyn piped up. “So he might.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “He might. Most likely he’ll be happy enough eating his way through all of these lovely meals though, so just keep your fingers to yourselves and don’t make the foolish decision to try and hurt him, or you’ll regret it in all kinds of ways.”
Brutus turned from my pa’s plate as I finished up my warning, moving to claim the meat from Vlad’s next, ignoring the way the Russian was looking at him like he fully intended to cut him apart piece by piece.
“Out with it then,” Pa barked. “You’ve clearly come here with something to say so let’s have it.”
“I just wanted to make an introduction to all of you fine people,” I said brightly, keeping my aim fixed on my pa while turning and smiling at the rest of the gathered villains in the room. “Because I think there may have been a little mix up, crossed wires, miscommunication, that kind of thing, and it seemed like it would be prudent to clear it up before it went on a moment longer.”
Dougal shifted in his seat further along the table, reaching for the gun he no doubt had tucked in his belt, but Jack punched him in the back of the head so fast that I’d barely even seen him coming. Damn that man could get a wriggle on when he needed to.
My brother crashed face first into his dinner plate, out cold or maybe even dead, but certainly not moving either way. There were a few sharp inhales as the wild eyes in the room shifted between him, the dog and me like they were trying to figure out where the most danger lay.
Silly them for forgetting my Spider. She was the one who owned all of us after all.
“What is the meaning of this, Niall?” Anastasia demanded, tossing her napkin down by her feet as she glared at me from her position by the wall, and I raised a wicked grin her way as I gave her my attention.
“Can I tell her?” Brooklyn asked keenly, taking a running jump and hopping up onto the dining table too, doing a little spin as she landed off balance and kicking a glass of scotch straight into Dermot’s lap, either on purpose or accidentally. Either way, it was fucking funny, especially when Brooklyn asked him if he’d pissed himself.
“Rook,” Jack growled, reminding her of why we were here, and he had a damn good point. The element of surprise was buying us this little bit of time, but soon enough one of the arseholes here would pull a weapon and we were planning on getting the fuck out of here before the bullets started flying. Well… before any more bullets started flying anyway.
Roland was still sniffling and whimpering over the bullet in his shoulder while his wife tried to stop the bleeding with a napkin on the far side of the table, but no one was really interested in his hysterics right now.
“I’m the cat who got the dream,” Brooklyn said excitedly as she hopped and pranced her way along the table, vaulting over Brutus who growled possessively over the fifth steak he’d stolen before pausing to do a pirouette right between my pa, Vlad and Anastasia’s pushed back chair.
“You have three seconds to explain why there’s a crazy woman dancing on my table, Niall,” Pa growled in warning at me and I narrowed my eyes on him.
“You won’t speak ill of her in front of me again,” I growled right back.
“You can’t call me crazy,” Brooklyn added. “I’m sanely challenged. Look it up.”
“And why are you on the table?” Anastasia demanded.
“Because of this.” Brooklyn waved her left hand in a dramatic little flourish, making the fat black diamond on her wedding ring flash in the low light of the room and grinning widely as she looked right into my ex-fiancée’s eyes. “I made a hornet man out of him.”
“Hornet?” Vlad hissed, exchanging a look with one of his men who was steadily inching his hand off of the table.
I took a knife from my belt and flung it at said hand, impaling it and halting its progress, finding myself mildly impressed as the Russian didn’t so much as squeak in pain, only glaring at me over the hilt of the knife and leaving it there while a red stain spread across the white table linen beneath it.