The normalcy of that night was a million miles away now.
“I don’t like this,” her fae captain growled for the tenth time that hour. “So many things could go wrong.”
He’d made his displeasure clear. This discussion had been going on all day; now, the moon was high in the sky.
Last night, Brynleigh had gone on a job in the Western Region. In a show of growing trust, Ryker hadn’t tagged along.
That had been for the best.
Her target had been one of the worst men she’d ever encountered, which said a lot. Josef Longrun was a prizewinning photographer who’d pivoted photos of landscapes to ones of youth in compromising positions. His actions were deplorable, and Brynleigh had found twisted pleasure in ending his life.
Without Ryker there, she’d been able to concentrate on her job. Josef Longrun hadn’t deserved an easy death. He’d bled, whimpered, and screamed all night long before she finally killed him.
Usually, she hated the whiners, but she’d found Josef’s sniveling weakness empowering. Every cry, every plea, and every time he begged for forgiveness had drawn a smile to her lips.
The peace she’d gotten from last night’s kill was gone now.
Sighing, Brynleigh caught Ryker’s hand in hers. She tugged him over to the couch.
“Sit with me?” she asked.
He gave her a look that made it clear he’d rather still pace, but to his credit, he complied. He was like a furnace next to her, and she leaned into his warmth.
“We’ve been over this,” she said calmly. She appreciated his protectiveness, but this was the only way forward. “We need the cipher. Zanri told us where it is, and I’m going to get it. I’ll go in, debrief Jelisette, then find the key. I’ll be long gone before she realizes I took anything. If she even realizes I took it.”
Brynleigh had already stolen one thing from Jelisette. How difficult could it be to take another?
Besides, she had to do this. It would be a disservice to Zanri if they didn’t use the information he’d given them. She was still hopeful they’d be able to get him out of prison. Somehow.
Ryker grabbed a black hoodie off the back of the couch and yanked it over his head.
“Jelisette is unstable,” he snarled. “She fed you lies for six gods-damned years, and she’s fucking dangerous.”
He didn’t want her to get hurt. That was sweet of him.
“I’m well aware.” Brynleigh fiddled with the hem of her dark pink and black sweater. It hugged her curves and gave her confidence, which she desperately needed before goingto see her Maker.
Merely calling Jelisette unstable was a disservice to instability. The older vampire was certifiably insane.
It was the Binding.
This past week, Brynleigh had researched Bound Partners. While scholars debated the specific adverse effects that would strike a vampire if their Bound Partner died, they all agreed that losing half of a bond would be mentally and physically devastating.
Something had irrevocably shattered in Jelisette when Emery Sylvain died. From a factual perspective, it was incredible that she was still alive and functioning. Half her heart and soul had perished with her partner.
Brynleigh glanced at Ryker. They weren’t Bound, but she couldn’t even fathom his death. She didn’t even want to think about the fact that while fae were long-lived, they weren’t truly immortal like vampires. She loved him so deeply that there would be no life without him.
At least now, Brynleigh understood why her Maker was so set against Representatives. It made sense, in a twisted sort of way, that Jelisette wanted to inflict harm upon the upper class after what they’d done to her.
If only she hadn’t used Brynleigh as an unwitting pawn in her game.
“I can handle my Maker,” Brynleigh said with more confidence than she felt. “I’m strong.”
Ryker frowned. “I know you are. But this…”
“It’s too late. She’s expecting me.”
“But—”