Page 79 of Líadan's Code

“You know this life, the people who are in it,” Lía reminds him. “My father decided that he needed someone who would be able to police the people he ruled over. So he created that person. The Banshee.”

“No,” Nathan Macdonald grunts. “I refuse to believe it. The Banshee is?—”

“A monster,” Lía says. “Yeah, I know. I don’t have the capacity to feel empathy or shame, so let’s skip this part, shall we? A few years ago, I found a little freedom and the ability to live outside of my father’s home. I’ve been planning how to be able to take over ever since.”

“That’s a damn fine long game,” Nathan praises. “I didn’t mean to offend, it’s just the stories are gruesome at best.”

“Do you think some of the members in our organization would toe the line if they weren’t? Not everyone knows who I am, outside of the club where Daddy died,” Lía says. “It seems that everyone who was there is being pretty tight lipped, which works for me.”

“So you didn’t kill the old bastard?” Mickey asks, lips twitching to show he doesn’t care either way.

“Nope,” she says. “The honor went to someone else. I plan to clean house of the evil Daddy let in though. Human and sex trafficking isn’t something I want to be involved in, nor will I allow anyone in our organization to do so.”

“How are you planning to stop it?” Joe asks.

“Viciously. I am inviting a group of people who are the worst offenders to meet with me on Thursday. Anyone who doesn’t attend will be picked off by me or someone I trust,” Lía says. While planning on the train, we decided we could hire someone on the dark web to help us. We don’t have Jordan’s experience on our side anymore, but we’ll manage.

Hitmen care about receiving their money and staying alive. We can ensure at least one of those things happen, and the latter issue is up to them. We just need to decide if it’s worth the risk now.

“Plucking the root of evil is typically the best move. How can we be of service?” Mickey asks.

“Misinformation,” I say, leaning forward. “If someone asks if you’ve heard anything, lie. Tell them that Lía is running scared after Cormac burned our home down.”

“Fuck,” the Macdonalds’ patriarch mutters. He’s been fairly quiet as his sons have asked questions, but now it seems that Rory Macdonald is processing everything. “We hadn’t heard that, lass. When did this happen?”

“Last night,” I grunt. “It’s been a hell of a few days. The security cameras show that Cormac headed up the fire bombing.”

I checked the camera footage when we got to our hotel, making a list of people marked for death. The video cameras were well hidden, so they didn’t even notice them or have their faces well covered.

It’s obvious that these were men who enjoyed Seán’s leadership and the ability to do whatever they wanted.

Cormac also had his own hand in hurting Lía. I’m going to enjoy making these men squeal like the pigs they are, after I help Lía get the men in front of me onto our side.

“No one knew where I lived, so while I’m not backing down, I’m working from the shadows for a bit,” Lía says. “Here are my plans.”

The men listen as she explains how she plans to invite those who are the least likely to change their ways to speak to them, and then demolish the building while they’re still inside.

“It’s cold blooded and heartless, which most people believe the Banshee to be,” she says. “Those who are used to collecting people will not see any other way to live.”

“What will you do with the menageries?” Rory asks. “Some of those poor fucks won’t be able to survive without the depraved attention they’re given.”

“I have a few ideas,” Lía says mildly. “Daddy has a sex club that I plan to close down, gut, and reopen as a sex club and BDSM dungeon. There will be very clear rules for the members who attend, and those who work in the club will be able to service or dominate depending on what the member wants. Regardless, the club will only accept consensual experiences. Those who have been kept as pets for years may join the sex club with the understanding that they have to use their voices during any services.”

“We will also be finding therapy services for them,” I explain. “There are quite a few with mafia ties who won’t blink at their experiences and will actually be able to help them.”

“What about those who are beyond help?” Joe asks. “Some of these people have been with their owners for so many years, it may not be possible to rehabilitate them.”

“We’ll assess and then decide,” Lía says. “If they can’t move on from the years of abuse, I’ll make their deaths quick and painless. All of this began before I was even born, but I will ensure that our families stop exploiting people while on my watch.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Rory says. “I don’t know your story, lass, but you have a good head on your shoulders. My phone has been ringing off the hook all weekend about where I stand on all of this. Not everyone was a fan of the way your father led, and have been watching the madness get even worse with each passing year.”

“The mood swings,” Lía says softly. “I never knew which way he was going to land. He could smile widely, while feeding me to the wolves and not give a fuck. It was getting worse.”

“Aye,” Rory says with a nod. “You may be his daughter, but I don’t know how that’s possible outside of biology. You may say there’s no empathy in your body, but I saw when you spoke about giving people a chance to change their lives. It may not be in a traditional life?—”

“I say traditional is overrated,” Mickey says with a shrug, receiving wry grins from around the table. “Not one of us made our money from being completely on the up and up. That’s just boring. Our ties run deeply in crime, and that’s unlikely to change. Give us a job, and we’ll make it happen. For what it’s worth, a lot of us have never understood why Seán kept you locked away, but now it makes sense.”

“It’s fucked,” Joe grunts. “I plan to piss on his grave the moment he’s buried.”

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