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Since we took Lucy out. Apparently, they couldn’t even give us the credit.The voice’s agitated tone matches my own.

“Great. Thanks. Look for a drink elsewhere. I catch you again, and I will rip your head off.”

“Okay. Promise. I’ll just…I’ll just go.” He disappears in the blink of an eye, so I head out the door. Nostalgia has me weaving the door back together, my magic retrieving the ash and making it solid once more before I head back to my car.

The moment I’m behind the wheel, I place Tarnley’s jacket in my lap and stare down at it, throat burning with emotion I’ve successfully managed to bury for nearly two damn months. “Keep it together, Bronywyn,” I whisper to myself.

You’re pathetic,the magic whispers.Pathetic, and you’re going to get us killed.

Ignoring it, as I almost always do these days, I toss his jacket to the side and pull out of the parking lot. The bloodsucker said he returns home from time to time, so I just have to hope that the bond is straining him enough to bring him back here, too.

The world is a huge place, so if he’s not here—I shake my head, not wanting to think worst-case scenario just yet. I can always call him if need be. I just really, really didn’t want him to bring Delaney into this.

Before tossing my phone on the way to Italy, where I spent two weeks, she’d called and left dozens of voicemails asking me to come back. Promising me that they could help. Trouble is, I don’t want their help anymore.

Survival is a lot easier when you have no restraints on your magic.

Minutes tick by, and soon, I’m pulling up to the front of Tarnley’s apartment building. After parking, I head inside the lobby and try to ignore the memory of the last time I was here. Though, no matter how hard I attempt to shove the mental images aside, I know I’ll never forget the look on Tarnley’s face when I’d turned those vampires to ash.

He’d been horrified over what I was capable of.

They all are; that’s why they want so badly to make you weak.

I shake my head and make a beeline for the elevator, my cloak firmly in place so no cameras or staff will pick me up. I need him to be surprised and have zero opportunity to alert anyone else that I’m here.

Get in, get out.

When the city is under my control, and they see just how valuable I can be like this, then, and only then, will I be ready to face them.

The elevator dings, and I enter a code on the pad, hoping like hell it will still work to enter his apartment. When it does, I breathe a sigh of relief and step into the space. First, I take note of the lack of dust.

The presence of dishes in the sink.

The clean jacket draped over a chair.

Dropping my cloak, I do my best to appear nonchalant as I await him to step into view. Internally, I’m a mess. My longing at war with the part of me that is fighting to regain control over the emotions I’ve kept leashed.

But when I hear the water in the shower shut off, my heart thunders louder than a drumline base.

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