The Lavender Heir -Chapter 23

The Gun Battle

The convoy of unmarked police vehicles rolled to a stop in the shadows outside Blackwater Castle. The air was heavy, the only sounds the whisper of the wind through the surrounding trees and the faint metallic clicks of weapons being prepared.

Thirty officers gathered in the darkness, their faces grim. The lead officer quickly gave the final orders: two teams through the old service tunnels, one through the back entrance, and the remaining officers—including Steve—would force their way through the main gates.

“Stay sharp,” the lead officer said quietly. “Cian’s men will be expecting resistance.”

Steve’s grip tightened on his weapon. He thought of Sasha and William, of Heather’s frantic voice, and nodded. “Let’s end this.”


—

The main gate crashed open, and the silence shattered. Bullets tore through the night as Cian’s men opened fire from the battlements. Steve dove for cover, returning fire as chaos erupted around him. Officers fell, shouts and screams mingling with the deafening crack of gunfire.

The tunnels weren’t quiet either. Explosions echoed through the walls as the second team breached, cutting through Cian’s men who were already scrambling to defend their stronghold.

Steve pushed forward, his heart hammering, his boots splashing through puddles of blood. The dining room loomed ahead, its doors flung open. He stormed inside amid a storm of bullets, cutting down two of Cian’s men who returned fire from behind overturned tables.

The gunfight raged for three brutal hours. Casualties mounted on both sides, but the officers were relentless. Slowly, methodically, they forced Cian’s men back, room by room, until the castle was finally secured.


—

The courtyard was silent now, save for the low murmur of radios and the distant wail of sirens approaching. Steve stepped through the smouldering remains of the fire pit, his stomach twisting as a crime scene officer held up two items.

“Eamon’s watch and pacemaker,” the officer said quietly.

Nearby, a charred shawl was pulled from the ashes, instantly recognisable as Megan’s. Her remains lay beside it, unidentifiable but unmistakably human.

Steve turned away, fighting to keep his composure.


—

Back at Heather’s brother’s house, Patrick arrived just as the call came through. The news was devastating: Eamon and Megan were confirmed dead, and there was still no sign of Sasha or William.

Patrick knelt beside Heather, who was clutching Lydia’s hand, pale and trembling. “We’ll find her,” he promised gently. “We’ll find them both.”

Heather shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “She’s out there somewhere… and my boy is gone.”

Anger flashed through her grief. She pushed herself to her feet. “I need to see him,” she said, her voice breaking. “I need to see Eamon for myself.”

Patrick tried to stop her, but Heather was already out the door.


—

The castle grounds were eerily silent when Heather arrived, Lydia close behind her. She reached the courtyard and collapsed to her knees beside the fire pit, her sobs tearing through the cold air. Lydia wrapped her arms around her friend, but Heather was inconsolable.

Moments later, her body gave out. She crumpled to the ground, and paramedics rushed forward.

“She’s going into shock,” one of them said urgently.

Lydia climbed into the ambulance with Heather, holding her hand as they sped toward the hospital.

Back at the castle, Steve stood with Patrick, staring at the ancient stone walls that still reeked of blood and smoke.

“We have to find her,” Patrick said quietly.

Steve nodded. “We will. Sasha and the boy are all we have left.”

But as the wind swept through the empty courtyard, the enormity of the task ahead weighed heavy on them both.


—