“Then we shift into a defensive stance and wait for him to make a move.”
“Such as?”
“If we don’t find him soon, especially before the baby’s born, I will likely send you to be Tamsin’s bodyguard.”
“I’m sorry, what now?”
“You heard me. It’s a contingency plan. I will not risk Tamsin’s or the baby’s lives bringing them back, no matter how much we love and miss them and want them with us. I’ve already spoken with the Pack Alpha where she is, and all it will take is for us to tell them when it will happen. They will arrange a new identity for you so there aren’t any issues.”
She weighed his words. “She’s in the States, then. Isn’t she?”
“I won’t confirm anything. I trust you, but?—”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. OPSEC.” She blew out a long breath. “Meaning I could be away for years, or longer.”
“Yes, that’s true.” He paused. “Is that a problem?”
“No, sir. I swore my oath. I just never thought I’d face an uncertain deployment once I left the military.”
“You’re the best. I wouldn’t ask this of you if you weren’t.”
She shoved back a wave of rage. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that point, sir. If I was the best, that fuckin’ twat’s head would’ve been mounted over yer fireplace months ago.”
When they finished their call a few minutes later, Aisling slammed her laptop shut and flopped back on the bed, staring up at the plaster ceiling.
Right now, she didn’t know if she hated herself more for her failings or for the fact that deep inside her soul, a tiny, dark cave had happily lit up that she was once again being utilized and valued for the skills she was the best at.
That being killing people.
Two Weeks Ago
Aisling chafed under the order to return to Trevor’s house, but she didn’t protest, either. Faegan’s trail had gone completely cold several weeks prior. While they’d ferreted out another man they believed was rendering him aid, a Prime had questioned him and learned he’d been a past associate of Faegan’s, not a current one. He’d been attempting to draw Faegan out so he could kill the corgi shifter and collect the bounty.
Aisling had been living out of her luggage ever since Rupert and Maisie’s murder, not that she’d had much to begin with.
In fact, everything she owned fit in her luggage because she didn’t have an actual permanent residence, just an address at an office at one of Trevor’s shell companies run by the Staffordshire Pack.
The benefit of purposefully remaining unhomed was that it allowed her to move fast and unencumbered, even as people were rotated into and out of the search teams to account for their daily lives.
Their families.
In some cases their regular jobs, for those who weren’t already full-time Enforcers.
Only Aisling had remained constant, determined and dedicated to personally bringing Faegan’s head to Trevor.
When she arrived, she pulled up short in the living room at the sight of the man talking with Trevor.
“Ah, there she is,” Trevor said. “Aisling Walsh, this is Peyton Bleacke, Pack Alpha of the Targhee Pack.”
He stood and walked over, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Aisling. Trevor’s told me a lot about you.”
She was about to take the American’s hand when a wave of intuition swept through her. She automatically stepped back. “Yer a Prime Alpha.”
It wasn’t a question. She knew Bleacke had come here several times, helping Trevor with the search, but she hadn’t crossed paths with him before now.
Peyton didn’t move, but he smiled, his hand still extended. “I am.”
Trevor also stood. “It’s all right, Aisling.”
