it was her family home. “I gave the butler the night off, and he went into town,” Kendall said.
Dante glanced at his sister. Ash’s brows rose. There hadn’t been any trick-or-treaters. No one could get past the gated entrance.
Kendall had a sniper on the roof to keep an eye on Jonas Callahan’s clan, make certain none of the mercenaries got close to any of the children or wives.
The mercs had tried for years to find the Callahan parents, but so far, it was Callahans riding to the buzzer, and the mercenaries—including their black sheep, evil uncle Wolf—unable to get anything going.
Dante got up. “I’ll go to the door.”
Everyone looked at him. Ana got up, too. “I’ll play backup.”
He didn’t need backup from a woman, even if she was a bodyguard with great references from several high-profile clients. His sister was the only woman who’d ever “backed” him up. He glanced at Ashlyn who grinned hugely and had the nerve to wave the stash of loot of which she’d stripped him.
But he couldn’t turn Ana down—it would be rude and decidedly un-Callahan. Dante went off down the long hall to the front door with Ana behind him. When he opened the huge wooden door, he was somehow not at all surprised to find a gun pointed at his face.
“Trick or treat,” the masked cowboy said. “Step outside and close the door.”
Nuts. Dante walked out, prepared to protect Ana at all costs, when she slipped around him and sprayed something in the cowboy’s face. He howled and pawed at his eyes, and Ana took the opportunity to kick his legs out from underneath him and tie his wrists behind his back like a cowgirl tying off a roped calf.
“There,” Ana said, standing up, “he’s all yours.”
The man on the ground cursed, swearing about the burning in his eyes and how much he hated the Callahans in general. Dante grinned at his beautiful “backup” wearing purple scrubs and a sexy smile, his heart thundering like the mystical Diablo mustangs in the Rancho Diablo canyons, and thought, You’re all mine, gorgeous.
You just don’t know it yet.
Chapter Two
Two hours later, the intruder had been trundled off by the local sheriff, and the sniper who’d been on duty was located—shot with a tranquilizer dart.
All the Callahans were grouped into the big white formal room that Kendall had always claimed she hated until the Callahans had taken over her compound. Now toy trucks and baby dolls lay in neat baskets lining a wall, and another basket of crayons and coloring books lay stacked near the ebony grand piano. An overly industrious child—he thought it might have been one of Pete’s triplets—had done a little Picasso-style artwork on the wall near the floorboard, in what looked very much like sky-blue and magenta, two colors he remembered well from his own days of coloring.
“This is bad,” Dante told his cousins, brothers and sister. Jonas nodded, as did the others. No one had told Aunt Fiona or Uncle Burke—yet. They’d have to be informed of this new development. They’d gone to bed after the Halloween festivities, and Dante saw no reason to rouse them when there was nothing they could do now. “What if Aunt Fiona had opened the door?”
Ana met his gaze. He thought he could sense her concern, which matched his.
“Fiona would have opened the door, if she’d been in the family room or kitchen,” Sloan said. “But someone meant business if they took out the sniper and then presented themselves on the front porch as a trick-or-treater.”
Ash shivered. “Lucky for you Ana went to the door with you, Dante.”
Dante frowned. “I can take care of myself, thanks.”
He was a highly trained SEAL. He didn’t need Ana—or anyone else—to take care of him.
Though it had been rather glorious to watch those curves in motion as she’d taken down the thug. Just remembering it brought a smile to his face.
“What’s so funny?” Ash demanded, staring at him. “You could have been killed.”
Dante shook his head. “I’m like a cat, and I’ve only used up about seven of my nine lives. No one’s gonna take me out.”
Ana’s eyes were huge. Okay, so maybe things could have gotten a little dicey if she hadn’t put her training and quick wits to use. “Let’s just focus on the plan going forward. The first thing we need to discuss is security. Obviously, the Phillips’ compound has been breached. We’ve inadvertently brought the fight here.”
They all considered that. “I think it’s pretty safe,” Ash said. “It’s taken them a long time to try an attack here.”
“They’re watching the ranch,” Ana said suddenly. “They knew half of us would be here in Hell’s Colony. Has anybody checked on the guys back at Rancho Diablo?”
Dante looked at Ana, considered her words, felt himself falling just a little bit more for a woman whose mind worked so quickly and looked so stunning doing it. It was as if a Greek warrior goddess had come to life, tempting him to kiss her.
He was going to have to do that real soon. “Ash, send a text to Galen, Falcon and Jace. See if you get a response.”
“On it,” she said, grabbing her phone.
“The sheriff didn’t have any idea who he was,” Ana said, “which means he’s from outside Hell’s Colony. He had no ID on him. That’s deliberate.”
“Yeah,” Dante agreed. “A Halloween ambush. It’s just all too convenient.”
“I think so, too,” Ana said. “There’s no way the man on the porch is the one who shot the sniper with the tranquilizer.”
Dante looked at her. “Why not? I took out plenty of armed—”
Ash cleared her throat. “Oh,” Dante said, “right.” It was a Halloween party, after all, no need to bring up past assignments, especially since the darling nanny bodyguard had defended him. He’d feel deflated about that except Ana was just so darn hot. Maybe he was weird or what his brothers would call judiciously individual, but Ana defending him gave him a superbad case of heat he didn’t think he was going to recover from anytime soon. “Okay, Ana, are you working on a theory?”
She nodded. “I think our Halloween visitor has a companion out there.”
Ash sat up. “Waiting.”
“That’s right.” Ana nodded, and Dante watched her, considering her suddenly very plausible idea. “The guy on the porch was just the sideshow. The distraction.”
Dante’s blood went cold. “Has anybody checked on Fiona and Burke?”
Ash’s eyes went huge, and then she tore up the stairs. Dante could feel his heart beating hard in his chest until his sister returned.
“Out like lights,” Ash reported. “And I don’t think Fiona holds herself and Burke to the one-martini rule.” She sniffed. “There’s a crystal pitcher of bloody rum punch by their bed. And a plate of her delicious gingerbread ghosts, but we won’t hold that against her.”
Ana sat thinking quietly. “What?” Dante demanded. “I can tell you’re working on something.”
“It just doesn’t add up. He barely put up a fight.”
“He didn’t have a chance,” Dante told her. “You were on him too quickly. He didn’t know what hit him.”
“No.” She shook her head. “He didn’t put up much resistance at all.”
“You gave him a faceful of pepper spray,” Ash pointed out. “That might wear down my resistance a bit.”
Ana got up, pacing a bit, which Dante appreciated because he loved watching