Page 93 of Líadan's Code

“There we go,” I croon, hog tying him. First, I remove his pants on the off chance Lía feels like a little castration in the near future.

Letting the bastard bleed slowly onto the hardwood floor, I move over to where Lía is currently playing eenie-meenie-miney-mo with Glenn and Declan’s fingers.

“Having fun?” I tease her. Shooting them is just too good of a death for them, but we don’t have too much time.

“I am, though I wish we had more time,” she says, cutting another fingertip right off as she echoes my thoughts. Lía manages to keep the blood off of her, since she knows exactly how the blood will spray or ooze depending on the action.

Pulling out a pair of black heavy latex gloves, I show them to her.

“I’ll switch you for your mittens, milseán. You’ll need those later,” I remind her.

Nodding she takes off her black mittens, handing them to me to put in one of my many pockets. Declan and Glenn look terrified as they glance from Seamus’ vacant stare nearby, to us wildly. We are definitely the biggest predators in the room.

“Seamus died too soon, though I couldn’t help that,” Lía mutters, pulling on the disposable gloves. I’m thinking the pyro in me may be lighting up the evidence after we’re done. I’ll call into the emergency line anonymously reporting the fire.

I can be a good citizen when it’s required.

Humming a song to herself, she shoves her knife deep into Glenn’s chest. It’s one I recognize from The Darkest Nights, an older song that Líadan vibed with. It’s another thread that binds her to Jordan, and a reminder that the world is incredibly small.

Looking through my pockets, I find a stun gun with a handle that extends and is USB powered.

“This is on the strong side. Don’t give either of the shitstains a heart attack,” I remind her, handing it over. “I think I heard recently that Declan has high cholesterol.”

I can feel Lía’s amusement as she electrocutes Glenn’s dick instead. Barking out a laugh, I enjoy watching her work. Lía moves from cutting to electrocuting with ease, standing and branding their foreheads for a special touch.

I know this is a sign that she’s done, and I watch as she cuts each letter deep into their foreheads.

Glenn’s word is: Sheep, because he followed her father so effortlessly, and without compassion. Declan’s word is Pyro, because he threw the first firebomb through her window, ultimately hurting Jordan. Surprising me, Líadan extends her hand for my gun.

“I may as well show you I’m a decent shot,” she grumbles, relinquishing her knife to me as well. Carefully, she shoots each of them in very painful areas of their body where they’ll feel like death without actually dying. Lía hits every one of her shots like the badass that she is.

I never said she couldn’t shoot, just that she should practice. Brat.

“I see,” I say, chuckling. “You’re adorable. I assume we’re going to leave them to the fire?”

There’s been enough blood spilled that it’s the only option to cover up our actions.

“Yes,” she agrees. “I hate being on such a tight schedule.”

Lía is grumpy as she moves over to where Cormac is still struggling to get out of the tight knots I created.

I left so early, I don’t know if she ate or not, which means we’ll need to swing by one of her favorite breakfast spots for food. It’ll do no one any good to have a stabby, crabby mafia princess, stomping around town.

“Do you have any more fun toys, Brendan?” she asks me, looking down at Cormac as she puts the safety in the gun.

“Of course I do, milseán,” I tell her, pulling out a hammer and long nails.

“I don’t know where you put it all,” she says, staring at me before giggling. It’s a sound I’ll never get tired of, holding it tightly to myself. Líadan is so much stronger than anyone knows.

“You’re like the Mary Poppins of torture devices.”

“It’s a lost art,” I tease her, handing them off to her. “Make sure to nail the fleshy part of his balls first baby. Then you can work on his dick.”

Nodding, she pushes up her mask, so Cormac can see the beautiful menace that is the true Banshee. It’s never been about the mask, this is who she is, and he helped her father create her.

There must have been so many times he egged Seán on, instead of advising him to pull back or reminding him that she was a young girl and his daughter.

The examples that I wasn’t here to protect her from them stretch on in my mind. The time that Seán first beat her in his office when she was twelve and Cormac held her still. Or when he pulled lots for the auction when she turned seventeen.

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