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25
Tarnley
“This is getting completely out of hand.”
I throw back the blood in my glass as Delaney and Cole pour over the latest map and places where Bronywyn left handy little murder scenes.
Not that they’re so fucking little. She’s rampaging through the city. In the last three days since I saw her, we’ve found not one—but four different crime scenes scattered all over the place. My cleaners have been working nonstop to make sure no humans catch wind of what’s going on.
A feat not so easily made successful given the last location for her massacre was a fucking high school. Granted, there were supernaturals there, making a meal out of the night janitor, but still.
What she’s doing is dangerous. Even more so given the new council’s involvement.
While we’ve yet to cross paths with any bounty hunters, that doesn’t mean they aren’t either on their way—or worse—already here. Delaney and Cole have been trailing the council member until tonight when he’d left town on a plane bound for who the hell knows where.
“We need to go see if we can talk to her. Get her to change her mind.”
Cole shakes his head. “She’s not interested in seeing us. The new wards around her place are proof enough of that.”
“Other than the messes, is what she’s doing really so terrible?” I ask, turning in my stool to face where they sit at one of the tables in my pub.
Delaney’s caramel eyes meet mine. “If she weren’t doing it alone and using dark magic, then no. It wouldn’t be. But every time she uses that power, she comes one step closer to losing herself.”
The door behind me opens, and Fearghas strolls in, carrying a massive to-go cup in his hand. “What’s up base camp?” He plops down in a seat opposite Delaney.
“Trying to find a pattern in this shitshow so we can determine where Bronywyn is going to pop up next.”
“Good luck. She’s not moving logically. My best guess is that she’s letting her new pet shadow make all her decisions.”
“You think she’s already gone?” Delaney questions.
“I think if she’s not already, she will be really, really soon. It’s only a matter of time.”
Anger singes my insides, and I push to my feet. “You were wrong about the spell to cleanse her, and you’re wrong about this.” After rinsing my glass in the bar sink, I lean back against the counter behind me and cross both arms.
“I still don’t believe I’m wrong about the spell. In order for her tosurvive, fae magic would be required.”
“The council member seemed to believe they were powerful enough to strip her of that magic and not kill her.”
At Cole’s words, Fearghas rolls his eyes. “Well, if the shady-ass council member says it will work, it must work. Trusting what he says is akin to trusting everything on the web to be true—you know, just because it’s on the web. Besides, didn’t that Odette woman tell you her buddy wants Bronywyn alive so he can kill her himself and strip her magic? Which, by the way, is precisely what will happen should they try to pull it from her.”
“If that’s the truth,” Delaney replies, “could very well be that Odette merely wants Bronywyn dead while he is truly powerful enough to save her.”
“Rainey doesn’t seem to think so.” Fearghas drinks from his cup. “And baby Astor is less likely to trust than you are.”
Delaney rolls her eyes. “I already know you take her side on this, Fearghas. Rubbing it in isn’t going to change my mind. Either way, we need to be cautious of everything we’re told.”
Cole’s phone rings, so he steps away to answer.
“You do believe the council wants her dead?” While I definitely side with Delaney on not trusting anyone, the thought of the council not holding true to their word and helping Bronywyn has definitely crossed my mind. And given what I know of those who tend to gravitate toward council roles, it’s not too far off to believe they are trying to trap her. Honestly, it makes a hell of a lot more sense than them actually offering to help.
“I do. And I think we need to stop letting her run through the city like a bloodthirsty psychopath and get to her before they do. Whether it’s to save her or put her down.”
The casual way the fae says the words makes me clench my fists. “You’re not killing her.”
His gaze holds mine, and in the green depths, I see pity. Which is the only reason he’s still breathing. “The last thing I want to do is kill the witch. I can assure you of that. But I also won’t suffer a dark witch in Billings. Your girl is headed that way if we can’t get the magic out of her.”
“Your girl?” Delaney shakes her head. “When the hell did you start talking like a teenager?”
