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“I’m just trying to blend in,” Fearghas replies.
Cole heads back toward us, a tight smile on his face. He looks straight at Delaney. “We found them.”
Her eyes widen, and the ghost of a smile passes over her lips. “Really?”
“Found who?”
She turns to Fearghas. “Bestiny’s children.”
“The shifter had kids?” I ask, the revelation news to me. Not that I knew her well. Hell, I barely knew anything more than her name. She’d been barely more than a blip on my radar, but she’d come through for us when we were fighting Lucy, and paid for that loyalty with her life.
“She did, but she hadn’t seen them since they were babies.” Delaney pushes to her feet. “We’ll need to set something up for after we find Bronywyn.”
“Why were you looking for them?”
“I promised her we’d go find them once Lucy was gone.” She swallows hard, and I can see that the death of her once-enemy-turned-friend was one that hit her hard. The Astor sisters have lost more than their fair share, at least this time, Delaney didn’t grieve by going off on another suicide mission.
“Then go. It’s not like Bronywyn is going anywhere,” I tell her. “We can monitor things from here and let you know if anything changes. Besides, with the councilman out of town for the time being, we have one less bastard to worry about.”
“No. I need to help find her.”
“We did find her,” I counter. “Now it’s getting her to come around to the idea of being saved. Which, no offense, is not something I believe you can help with.”
“Why not?”
I shift my focus to Cole. “Because I honestly don’t believe Bronywyn will allow us to save her.”
“You believe she’s doomed?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I do think we can spare you for some time.”
Delaney looks unsure as her gaze shifts from me to Cole. Finally, after a few moments, she nods. “Fine. But if anything happens, anything at all, you call me.”
“Understood.”
She turns to her mate, and they begin speaking, their easy chatter fading to background noise as I try to come up with a plan that saves Bronywyn and keeps the rest of us alive. Leaving them sitting at the table, I head back to my office.
My ass no sooner hits the chair when Elijah strolls in and takes a seat in the leather chair across from me. “Your place looks like shit,” he says.
I snort. “Understatement there, brother. When the hell did you get here?”
“Just now. You going to reopen?”
“What’s the point?” Reaching down, I open my safe and pull out the aged bourbon I keep for my own, personal end-of-day drink. After uncapping the bottle, I turn it up and take a swig. “I’ll more than likely be dead within the month.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Bronywyn is not giving up that magic, Elijah. I also know we can’t stop trying to get it from her. Which leaves two options: option one, we aren’t successful, and she kills us, or option two, we are successful, and we kill her. I can’t survive without her—literally. Losing her will kill me.”
“You’re forgetting the third option.” Reaching across my desk, he takes the bottle from my hand.
“And what’s that?”
“She lets us save her from herself.”
“That won’t happen.”
“Ye of little faith.” Elijah returns the bottle. “You used to be so optimistic.”
