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They’d set him up so that he’d realize they’d found me.

Then, once he had run, his fate had no doubt been sealed.

The call to Brent’s brothers—who were still on the other side of the country, no doubt—had likely happened while the cleaners—the kill team—had already gotten into position. That explained why things had happened so quickly afterward.

They’d followed Brent across the country the moment he’d hopped on a plane. I’d managed to gain root access and find a hidden tracking program on Brent’s smartphone, along with a ton of other spyware—he hadn’t ditched his phone in favor of using a burner—and, though Sadie had confiscated his device and ensured the location services were turned off, it wasn’t hard to triangulate location via cell towers if you knew what you were doing.

Brent had gone faintly green around the gills when he’d seen all the spyware, some last bit of innocence seeming to slump out of him all at once. His family had clearly been spying on him for a very long time. I was pretty sure that, no matter what else he’d thought, he’d never imagined his own family could betray him like that.

That they’d be so ruthless. That they’d planned on killing him, too. I wasn’t sure how it felt to be proven wrong, but I could guess that it wasn’t good.

Even Quinn seemed sympathetic. He’d checked on Brent no less than three times. He’d also told Sadie to back off at least twice during her interrogation. And of all the vampires surrounding him, my mate was the only one Brent didn’t flinch at.

When I asked about it—why Brent seemed to trust him—Quinn simply told me he’d healed Brent with his blood during the attack.

I strongly suspected there was more to the story. But he’d tell me in time, when he was ready.

“Earth to Derek,” Quinn said, shooting me a bemused smile. “Can we stay at your place tonight?” Then he paused, giving the rapidly lightening eastern horizon an almost startled glance. “Or, I guess, it’s already this morning.”

“Oh. Uh—are you sure?”

“I kind of need to not be in the direct sunlight and we don’t have long before that happens.”

The danger had passed. And Thierry had already taken my keys and gone ahead to make sure my apartment was clear. No nasty surprises—like mafia hitmen—were waiting for me there. He’d promised to leave the door unlocked and leave my keys on the counter before he left.

“Are you ready for that?”

“I was ready to run away with you,” he reminded me. “I think I can handle a night away from the dungeon. More than a night, maybe.”

I grinned at him, feeling lighter than I had in years. “Yeah?”

He grinned back, his eyes dancing. “Yeah.”

I took his hand and we walked the three blocks to my apartment. It was early enough that the hill was mostly deserted. And those who were up and about didn’t pay any attention to us.

I let him into the building—it had a keycode entry—and we took the elevator up to my apartment, which was on the fourth floor. When I let him inside, I followed behind him, suddenly feeling a little shy. He’d never been to my place before.

I did, however, hurry over to the windows and close the blackout curtains to block out the rising sun. I’d bought and installed them a week after we’d first met. My apartment was east-facing.

When I turned around and made my way back over to him, I saw that he’d stopped in the middle of the space, drinking it in.

“You don’t have any art,” he said, at last. He sounded almost sad. “Derek, there’s nothing of you in here.”

I swallowed, feeling my cheeks go warm. “I always figured I might need to run. It didn’t make sense to ever make the space mine. It’s always just been a place to sleep, you know? I never wanted to get attached.”

He met my gaze. “You don’t need to run anymore. Sadie’s on the first plane to Atlanta to deal with the rest of Brent’s family. It’s over.”

I snorted. “You know, I feel bad for them, kind of.”

He let out a bark of laughter. “Me too. The detectives over there are going to be very confused as to why an entire mafia family has decided to suddenly turn themselves in and confess their crimes.”

“Probably better than they deserve.”

“No.” His expression went more somber. “I’m glad they’re going to live. Life is precious—it’s sacred. They’ll be punished, but it won’t be more death. Not by our hand.”

“Quinn—”

“I’m okay. Really, I am.”