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20
Bronywyn
Afresh pot of coffee is already on by the time we make it to the kitchen. Seated on a bar stool, Winnie works to arrange lush grapes, bright red strawberries, and plump blueberries delicately on a porcelain tray. And in the center, her renowned cream cheese fruit dip.
Damn Deissy and her morning interruption.
“Good morning,” she greets happily. Then, she seems to notice Deissy. “And what are you doing back here, lass?”
“Deissy here wants to join our fight against rogue supernaturals,” Tarnley tells Winnie.
She arches an eyebrow and shrugs. “Good for you, honey. Show ‘em that us humans are far from helpless.”
“Thank you.”
Tarnley groans. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“I’m going to do it with or without your help.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He runs a hand over his face, completely ignoring what I told him seconds ago. I know he heard me because I heard his huff of disagreement, his irritation that I didn’t just throw her out on her ass even though I think we both know that would do no good.
She’s determined, and I can see on her face that this is just not something she’s going to let go of anytime soon. So, what are our options? Other than the fact that we’re not going to be around much longer if I have my way.
Though, since I haven’t had a chance to tell Winnie yet, I keep that particular information to myself. No need to spill the beans to a practical stranger before I’ve had the chance to tell those I consider family.
The doorbell rings again.
“Damn, we’re popular this morning,” Tarnley quips. “Though, at least, whoever that is had the common decency to ring the doorbell rather than skulk around.”
Deissy’s cheeks redden. “I wanted to see if you could sense me.”
“And?”
“Obviously you can.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “I’ll grab it.” I place a hand on Winnie’s shoulder and squeeze gently. “Make sure he doesn’t get frustrated and eat her.” I wink at Deissy, who pales.
“You won’t—”
“Of fucking course not,” Tarnley snaps at the young girl.
Happy with myself, I push through the door and head toward the front. Since my ward’s picked up no intruders, but I can sense a magical presence on the other side, I’m assuming our new visitor is one of the Astor sisters, so as I pull open the heavy wooden door, I have a smile on my face.
That is until I get a view of the bastard on the other side and all joy disappears instantly. “Chasin,” I growl as I find myself staring into the eyes of someone I never wanted to see again. He’s flanked by two witches, both glaring at me. “Do you have a fucking death wish?” I snarl as my magic flares to life.
He chuckles, looking as arrogant as ever. “You really should reinforce those wards, Bronywyn. It was far too easy to trick them.” He tosses a shirt at me, and I catch it, realizing it’s one of mine.
“Didn’t think we wore the same size,” I retort sweetly.
Tarnley blurs to my side. “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve.” Hands clenched into fists, he starts for Chasin, but I press a hand to his chest, somehow managing to keep him within the much more powerful house wards, likely protecting us both.
They’ll keep Chasin’s magic from reaching us, and none of the supernaturals can enter without my explicit invitation.
“So good to see you again, handsome. You’re looking a lot less dead these days.”
“Why the fuck are you here? Shouldn’t you have tuck tail and ran back to Canada?”
He shifts his gaze back to me. “No reason to do that, not when I have such an exciting new opportunity opening up for me here.” With a snap of his fingers, he summons two manila envelopes and holds them out.
