Page 92 of Líadan's Code

The video cameras showed that they were some of the people who firebombed the apartment. Maybe it would be fun to burn them alive, the way they attempted to do to us.

A memory pricks my mind, making me scowl. Cormac has always been so comfortable around the family’s human pets, it shouldn’t have been any surprise to me that he’s a handler for the auction inventory as well.

“You can fill all her holes, it wouldn’t make any difference to me,” Cormac mutters. “The girl should have been drowned at birth, and I tried to convince Seán to do it. Then he accidentally killed Roisin in a fit of anger not long after, which ended dreams that he would be able to try again. He had no interest.”

“The family wouldn’t have accepted anything other than a love match from him,” Glenn rumbles. “Seems silly, but they carry high standards.”

“Aye, they do. A bit ridiculous to be honest. Everyone is very much living under the pretense of sadness now that Seán is dead. We’ll let them all wallow for a bit longer while we work on finding the girl,” Cormac says. “Too much is up in the air and that fucker Rory has been on the phone calling people incessantly.”

My lips twitch as I move back to lean against the wall, proud that Rory is making waves. He’s loud and opinionated, but also strategic. If he wanted the family, I have no doubt he’d be able to get support, except for his small issue with sex trafficking of course.

“Where is the little snot-nosed fucker that was supposed to help you find her?” Declan asks.

“Dead,” Líadan says, her real voice ringing out as she walks out.

I see she decided to throw out stealth for drama. Wonderful. Watching, I decide to let it ride as I pull my firearms from the holsters at my waist. I’ll be the best wing man she could ever ask for and let her play.

“Fuck, you’re a scary fucking bitch,” Seamus gasps. “Gonna have to burn the mask in order to be able to fuck you.”

These three were at the reveal in New York, which is why they know who Líadan is under the mask. Using the voice changer at this point would just be overkill.

“Your father gave you too much freedom, which is why we’re here at all,” Declan says with a sneer. While he may be correct in a way, we’re here because they’ve been hunting us.

“It’s cute that you think that’s an option,” she says, throwing her knife without hesitation. It’s only slightly unbalanced, and I put buying her better knives on my to do list. The knives I have bought her in the past have been from a specialty store. They take two months to make, since they’re special order.

The blade slides into Seamus’ flesh like butter, but only because Lía made sure to sharpen her blades until they were up to her standards. The old man gurgles, mistakenly pulling the knife from his throat, and spraying blood everywhere. Dumbass.

Cormac’s face turns a furious purple as he watches his living room quickly becoming a gruesome mess.

“Ah, fuck, seriously?” Cormac roars as Declan and Glenn pull their own guns.

Since they brought guns to a knife fight, I step in, my lips stretched into a gruesome smile as I shoot Cormac first in the leg to ensure he won’t be going far.

“Stay,” I growl, deciding to maim and play with my food. Aiming for the arm that’s holding the gun, I shoot both Glenn and Declan, so they’ll drop the only possible way they could hurt Líadan.

To keep them from running, I ensure that they both receive a bullet in the leg as well. This way, Lía won’t have to struggle with them.

It’s just good, clean torture.

“Look at the big, strong men who can’t hold onto their pieces,” Líadan teases them as I kick their guns away from them.

Handing her a taser, I let her have a bit of fun with them, while I pull out a length of rope for Cormac from the many hidey holes in my utility pants. I dressed for success, my profession just needs a different form of uniform than other people do.

Cormac is struggling to get up from where he’s sprawled across the floor, except the bullet high up on his thigh isn’t allowing him to. The screams from the men behind me make me grin widely, though all the ex-soldier in front of me can see is the demon mask sitting on my face.

“Holy Moses, Brendan. Boy, boy, don’t let her influence you like this,” he says, pulling himself across the floor. His good leg is shoving himself back, making him look a bit like a crab.

Snorting to myself in twisted amusement, I stalk his ass across the room.

“You don’t seem to understand that my darkness matches hers,” I murmur. Reaching him, I stomp down on the thigh with the gunshot wound, enjoying his screams.

There’s a decorative table runner across a small table against the wall, perfect for shoving in his mouth. Pulling it sharply, I ignore the elegant Irish vase that was sitting on top of it, enjoying the way it shatters onto the ground. Oops?

“Oye… argh!” Cormac’s words are stifled as I shove the ornate fabric deep into his mouth. It’s heavily embroidered, and I take deep pleasure in knowing it’s tearing up the tissue in his mouth. Pulling his tie from his neck, I wrap it around his head so he can’t spit it out.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see that Lía muffled both Glenn and Declan, finding fabric to also tie them to the heavy furniture around her. Tasing them kept them from moving too much. They’re also on their knees, which is ironic.

Smirking, I turn back, kicking Cormac between the legs, so he’ll crumple into the fetal position. Chuckling darkly at how predictable people’s reflexes are. It also works in my favor every time.

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