The Merry Men Masquerade

6. Ashes, Ashes

"I haven't, actually, but I'll trust your word," he said, easing back into the couch. "What's this idea of yours, then?"

Vito's smile turned a little more even – grateful, maybe, to see the tension leave Ronan's shoulders. He hopped to his feet and swept all eyes back to his sketch with an embellished gesture of his hand, emboldened and uninterrupted, and Ronan decided he could handle more frequent missions and the sour taste they'd leave behind if that was all Vito wanted. Ronan might tire of the jobs, but he didn't think he'd ever tire of watching Vito light up the way he did now as he pointed at his drawings and mapped out their next victory.

The Brownings were a family whose wealth stretched back for generations, as did their home. Its cobblestone walls stood apart from the gothic-style architecture that was all the rage nowadays, but it meant the house was simple and straightforward in structure. Ronan had noted years before that it would be exceptionally easy to break into and navigate, and the evening garden party set to take place there in two weeks' time would ensure that.

It should have ended there.

When Vito forged on, that uneasy chill began to crawl its way up Ronan's spine. Vito turned his focus to the outbuilding, a space adjacent to and much smaller than the main house but bigger than the home Ronan had grown up in. It was probably built as a servants' quarter some lifetimes ago, but it served as extra storage now.

Vito's plan for it made Ronan's blood run cold.

"You've lost your mind."

Vito's tirade screeched to a halt, like the loss of momentum physically shook him. He frowned Ronan's way, vexed to be stopped short and somehow, unbelievably, confused to see disapproval on Ronan's face.

"It's an outdoor party," Ronan said when all Vito did was stare at him expectantly. "Why the hell would we– we can just sneak in, can't we?"

Inexplicably, Vito looked amused. "We can't be certain the house will be empty during an event like this."

"And your way around that is arson?"

"People run when they see fire, yeah? We clear the house – clear the whole property, really–"

"And what if somebody's inside?" Ronan rebutted. Vito didn't drop his smile, but irritation mounted behind his eyes at being interrupted yet again. "What if somebody's nearby? What about smoke– What if the fire spreads to the house and there are people inside like you said? The entire estate is grass, Vito, and there are shrubs and trees and– don't tell me you've grown so arrogant to think you can control flame?"

"And what if somebody's nearby?" Vito laughed derisively. "It isn't as if these people have ever concerned themselves with our wellbeing, so why should we?"

Ronan remembered the man from the masquerade – Carbuncle, or something – and the way he'd watched his grandchildren dance. "Are you hearing yourself? There could be kids at this party!"

"What do I care!" Vito finally snapped. He stepped closer, using his height to tower over Ronan's sitting form. "If somebody gets hurt, they probably deserved it!"

At this, Ronan jumped to his feet. It was a mistake. Vito loomed over him like this, too; his growth spurt had come later than most, but when it had, he had surpassed even Mitch.

"Since when are we the authority on who lives or dies?" Ronan demanded.

"The 'holier than thou' attitude doesn't suit you, Ronnie," Vito sneered, stepping closer still so that Ronan had to tilt his head to meet his eye. "Look around you – must you always be the one to cause a scene?"