Garrison once again shook his head. “No. If anything, he was even stricter about adhering to the rules than Maisie and Tamsin, and they were damned sharp.”
Trevor spoke up. “I’m putting a public bounty on Faegan’s head. I hereby declare a pack edict for blood, and I don’t care how many of his people we have to eliminate to get him. He’s a dead man. Anyone caught giving him material aid will also be killed.” Murderous rage radiated from the grief-stricken father. “I want his fucking head, and I don’t care how many others are delivered along with it.”
Aisling didn’t comment. She agreed with the edict, and while she wasn’t happy it needed to be issued in the first place, it meant she’d have even more cover if she was the one who caught up with Faegan first and killed him without bringing him in alive.
Because she damned sure wasn’t letting him live if she got her paws on him.
Unfortunately, having grown up during the Troubles and seeing first-hand what devastation tit-for-tat violence wrought on innocent people, she wasn’t looking forward to the implementation of the edict.
She didn’t enjoy taking lives, even of people such as Faegan Lewis who were well-deserving. Her first kill had been at eleven, just weeks after the deaths of her father and brothers.
Taking vengeance on those she knew were responsible for their deaths, people her father and brothers had considered brothers-in-arms, even though those same people directly caused their deaths.
She’d poisoned their tea when she knew the three of them were gathering for another planning session.
She’d killed two others in the process who hadn’t been directly responsible for their deaths, but, then again, they were “collateral damage” the way her father and brothers had been.
Another “tragic accident.”
Their own term to describe the deaths of men they’d claimed were their “mates” and had shed public tears over at their funeral and wake.
And she’d left an untraceable note she’d composed and printed on a school computer, supposedly from the ringleader, admitting to their deaths and that he couldn’t live with his guilt.
The Guards had been content to accept it at face value despite the explosive outrage from other people she knew had been his “friends.”
Just like they’d been “friends” with her father and brothers.
“Whatever you have to do,” Trevor continued, pulling Aisling out of her murky memories, “I’ll back you up. All of you. I’ll get the resources if we don’t already have them. Plus, I’ll summon help from other packs. Aisling, you have my full authority to appoint people and resources as needed for hunting and killing Faegan. Blank cheque.”
She grimly nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“And while I want him dead,” Trevor added, “I also want him to suffer. If a quick kill is required, fine. But if the situation allows, feel free to drag it out and make him plead for his life. And tell him I said that.”
“Do ye want us to wait for ye?” Aisling said. “To hold him?”
“Absolutely not. If it’s possible to get me on a video call, brilliant. If not, film it. But if that can’t be accomplished either, don’t hesitate to kill him. And I want his actual head, not just a picture of his body.”
“Yes, sir,” Garrison said, looking a little…greenly grim.
Aisling liked the man just fine. But at forty-two, he was younger than her and hadn’t seen combat like she had. He was also from Cambridge and well-off parents, hadn’t grown up fighting and scrapping the way she had. Hadn’t made his first kill until after he was twenty, and could likely total his kills on both hands with fingers to spare.
Trevor focused on her again. “Aisling?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Every trick in the book,” he said. “Teach our people everything they need to know. And I do mean everything. I not only want Faegan rooted out, but whoever helped expose the safe house, I want their heads, too. I don’t mean if someone was innocently hacked—I mean whoever did the hacking. Someone helped Faegan, and I want that person’s head as well. Human or not, pack or not.”
She slowly nodded. “We’re goin’ full tilt then, eh?”
“I want you to make Bloody Sunday look like a royal tea party,” Trevor said. “If anyone’s even thinking about helping Faegan Lewis, I want them to unequivocally understand there are far more dangerous people out there than one crazed corgi shifter.”
Aisling took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”
“Excellent. Garrison, you and your Enforcers answer to Aisling while I’m unavailable. Obey her word immediately as if it were me. I’ll return in a few days. Understand?”
He nodded. “Yes, sir. Absolutely.”
Not that Aisling thought Garrison would disagree, much less disobey.
