Deuce shrugged. He was still drenched from the rain in the sunroom. “Everyone refuses to come out of their bedrooms until the ferry gets here. And frankly, Ty, with all the good guy shooting going on here, I don’t blame them. Why do you want all of us down here?”
“Will you bring Livi over here, please?” Ty requested, trying to keep his tone soothing.
Deuce went to retrieve her, murmuring to her as they rejoined Ty near the doorway.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Do you know about the passages inside the walls of the house?” Ty asked her, deciding that easing into things was no longer an option.
She blinked rapidly at him, shaking her head. “The what?”
“Ty,” Deuce said disapprovingly.
“I’m not joking. Nick and Kelly found an entrance in their bedroom. There are passages that go through the entire house. That’s how the killers got into the kitchen and killed the cook. That’s how they’ve been moving around without being seen. Deacon, all the rifles and small arms used for hunting have disappeared. Someone is either armed to the fucking teeth, or they’re making sure none of us can be. No one is safe locked in their rooms. We need to get everyone down here, make sure we have safety in numbers. And we need to find every carved angel with a ball and chain in its wing. Those are the entrances. I also need to know every single fucking person on this island who knew about those passages.”
Deuce was nodding urgently, but Livi seemed stunned. Even when Deuce moved away, she remained rooted to the spot, her mouth ajar. Ty put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“The ball and chain wings,” she said, her voice dazed. “There’s one in the nursery.”
Ty’s heart dropped. “The one on the third floor?”
“The kids are all up there,” Livi whispered. “We thought they’d be safe with the nanny and a bodyguard at the door. Ty . . . Amelia is up there.”
Nick climbed the winding stairs, his mind a swirl of emotions he didn’t normally find himself hindered by. He was grieving over the life he’d been forced to take. He was conflicted over the combination of guilt and nonchalance he was feeling over the decision to take that shot instead of the admittedly more risky option of trying to restrain her. And he was angry. He was furious, in fact, and no amount of trying to walk it off seemed to be able to cool him down.
That in and of itself told him that he was closer to cracking than he had been in a very long time. It had gotten beyond his normally impressive level of control, and with nowhere to go and lick his wounds, it would continue to spiral unless he could find a way to block it all out until he had a chance to decompress.
He and Ty had been through many fires together. They’d had a few fights. After the year they’d spent not communicating at all, Ty had been the one to reach out to Nick, first saying that he missed him and then adding that he needed help from someone he could trust. Nick hadn’t hesitated. He never did. Ty was his best friend, and no matter what they did to each other, they would always be brothers. His loyalty was reciprocated too, with Ty jumping to his side whenever Nick needed him.
Nick wasn’t sure he could forgive Ty for all the lies he’d uncovered in the past year, though. He hadn’t been able to get over it even while they’d been deployed, and now that they were here, embroiled in someone else’s problems again, Nick couldn’t reconcile the anger and betrayal. Not this time.
He came to the last riser of the staircase, and his thoughts were interrupted by another thump and a quiet whimper. Something about the sound—a sound he heard in his dreams, a sound he’d made hundreds of times as a boy—made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He took the last few steps two at a time. He moved quickly and silently in the dark, taking care the floorboards beneath his feet didn’t creak. He got to the nursery door and nearly tripped over the body of the Snake Eater on the ground. It was Hardin. Blood was streaming from a wound on the man’s forehead. Nick checked his pulse and found nothing. He put his palm over Hardin’s staring eyes and closed them.
“Hooah, soldier,” he whispered. He patted the dead Snake Eater down, but his weapon was gone. Nick reached for his own gun and raised it toward the door.
He hesitated only another second before he pushed the door open. The nanny was standing near the massive fireplace with her back to the door. The five Grady cousins were all cowering in the corner, the oldest boy trying to shield the younger ones with his small body. He was no more than ten.
“You can’t take her!” he shouted at the nanny.