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18
Tarnley
“That was probably the most interesting date I’ve ever been on,” Bronywyn jokes as we make our way up to her bedroom.
I’m exhausted. Beyond, even. My bones hurt, my head throbbing with the knowledge that those we care about are being hunted down like wild game due to a relationship they have nothing to do with.
What I can’t figure out, though, is why Winnie was not attacked. Not that I’m ungrateful, of course. But the vamps had to have possessed plenty of opportunities to take her out, and yet, she managed to evade them. Or, more likely, they let her get away.
Begging the question: Is she just that good? Or is it something else?
“Tarnley?”
After tossing my jacket on the chaise in her room, I turn toward her. “I’m sorry, my head was somewhere else.”
Brows drawn together, she crosses her arms. “Okay, what is it? Other than the obvious.”
“Does there have to be anything else? Five humans died tonight, and that’s only because we got to the sixth in time.”
Her expression softens, and she uncrosses her arms, face falling in defeat.
“That’s not okay, innocent blood being spilled—” I shake my head. “It’s fucking with me.”
“Do you think we got them? The ones that wanted to punish us for this?” She gestures to both of us.
“I don’t know. Not like I had a chance to interrogate any of them.”
My tone was a hell of a lot snappier than I meant, and thankfully, Bronywyn and I have known each other long enough that instead of taking offense and getting defensive, she crosses the floor toward me and wraps both arms around my waist.
“I wish I could be confident that this is the last time we’ll have to deal with this.”
“It could be.”
At Bronywyn’s words, I pull back and stare down at her. “What do you mean?”
“We could leave Billings,” she says softly. “Go somewhere with no supernaturals. Like Zander and Lauren did.”
“You want to run?”
“Not run. Just relocate. The councils seem to be quiet, for now, so this may be a good time to go. We can leave all this fighting behind and live our lives out peacefully. With none of this violence, no judgment.”
I study her for any sign of hesitation, of uncertainty, but her green eyes are clear, her expression resolute. “You’re serious.”
“Of course, I’m serious.” She pulls away and walks to the balcony. “We’ve been living in this city, cleaning up messes, and healing wounds for decades now. Aren’t you tired of all of it? Aren’t you ready to retire somewhere warm where we can live without constantly worrying someone’s going to come after us?”
“You believe that place exists?”
“Lauren and Z managed to stay hidden until Cole needed them. We can do the same.”
“And all our friends? You’d just leave them?”
“For a chance at peace?” She hesitates, and I know she’s contemplating all of the different scenarios they could face in our absence. That’s what she does, assess the risk before taking the plunge. “I would. Because with Lucy and Heather gone, I don’t see a danger anymore. At least, not one they can’t handle. I’m the draw of the council, not them. Honestly, without me, they’d likely be a hell of a lot safer.”
Her words are more tempting than I care to admit, and honestly, I really, really want to take her the hell up on it. A peaceful life? One of leisure and comfort? No running for our lives? Mornings we get to sleep in, enjoy our coffee, and spend the day wrapped in each other, rather than pouring over a battle plan? How can I see a downside to that? “Do you honestly think we’re cut out for peace?”
“Absolutely.” She crosses the floor and stops a foot in front of me. “Can’t you picture it, Tarnley? Sunshine, salty air, the ocean, bikinis, and mimosas all day.”
“It’s definitely a beautiful picture,” I admit. “Though, personally, I’d rather forego the bikini. I’m not sure my figure could handle it.” My forced smile does exactly what I was hoping for and earns me a very real one from the woman standing before me.
