House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City) (19 page)

Ithan shook his head, but it was Hunt who said, “This is a lethal game, Tharion. One I’d rather not play again.” Bryce could have sworn his hands shook slightly. This had to be dragging up the worst of his memories and fears—he’d
been
a rebel, once. It had won him two hundred years of servitude.

And today had been long and weird and she hadn’t even told Hunt about Cormac’s visit at lunch.

But to let this boy be hunted by so many people … She couldn’t sit by. Not for an instant. So Bryce said, “I can ask Fury tomorrow if she knows anything about Danika and Sofie. Maybe she can give some insight into where Danika might have suggested hiding.”

“Ask her right now,” Tharion said with unusual seriousness.

“It’s Wednesday night. She and Juniper always have date night.”

It was half a lie, and Hunt must have known it was for his sake, because his wing gently brushed over her shoulder.

But Tharion ordered, “Then interrupt it.”

“Don’t you know
anything
about Fury Axtar?” Bryce waved a hand. “I’ll call her tomorrow morning. She’s always in a better mood after she and June get it on.”

Tharion glanced between her and Hunt, then to Ruhn and Ithan, both silently watching. The mer reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded stack of papers with a resigned sigh. “Here’s a sampling of the emails,” he said, handing them to Bryce, and aimed for the door again. He paused near Syrinx, then knelt down and petted his head, his thick neck. He straightened Syrinx’s collar and earned a lick of thanks. Tharion’s mouth curled up at the corners as he stood. “Cool pet.” He opened the front door. “Don’t put anything in writing. I’ll be back around lunch tomorrow.”

As soon as the mer shut the door, Hunt said to Bryce, “Getting involved with this is a bad idea.”

Ruhn said, “I agree.”

Bryce only clutched the papers tighter and turned to Ithan. “This is the part where you say you agree, too.”

Ithan frowned deeply. “I can ignore the shit about Danika and Ophion, but there’s a kid out there on the run. Who probably has nothing to do with Ophion and needs help.”

“
Thank you
,” Bryce said, whirling on Hunt. “See?”

“It’s Tharion’s business. Leave it alone, Bryce,” Hunt warned. “I don’t even know why you had to ask about any of this.”

“I don’t know why you
wouldn’t
ask,” Bryce challenged.

Hunt pushed, “Is this really about finding the kid, or is it about learning something new about Danika?”

“Can’t it be both?”

Hunt slowly shook his head.

Ruhn said, “Let’s think this through, Bryce, before deciding to act. And maybe burn those emails.”

“I’ve already decided,” she announced. “I’m going to find Emile.”

“And do what with him?” Hunt asked. “If the Asteri want him, you’d be harboring a rebel.”

Bryce couldn’t stop the light from shimmering around her. “He’s thirteen years old. He’s not a rebel. The rebels just
want
him to be.”

Hunt said quietly, “I saw kids his age walk onto battlefields, Bryce.”

Ruhn nodded solemnly. “Ophion doesn’t turn away fighters based on their age.”

Ithan said, “That’s despicable.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t,” Hunt countered. “But the Asteri won’t care if he’s thirteen or thirty, if he’s a true rebel or not. You stand in their way, and they’ll punish you.”

Bryce opened her mouth, but—a muscle flickered in his cheek, making the bruise there all the more noticeable. Guilt punched through her, warring with her ire. “I’ll think about it,” she conceded, and stalked for her bedroom.

She needed a breather before she said or did more than she meant to. A moment to process the information she’d gotten out of Tharion. She hadn’t put any stock in Briggs’s claim about Danika and the rebels when he’d taunted her with it—he’d been trying to get at her in any way possible. But it seemed she’d been wrong.

She scoured her memory for any detail as she washed away her makeup, then brushed her hair. Male voices rumbled from the other side of the door, but Bryce ignored them, changing into her pajamas. Her stomach gurgled.

Was Emile hungry? He was a kid—alone in the world, having suffered in one of those gods-forsaken camps, no family left. He had to be terrified. Traumatized.

She hoped Sofie was alive. Not for any intel or amazing powers, but so Emile had someone left. Family who loved him for
him
and not for being some all-powerful chosen one whose people had long ago been hunted to extinction.

Bryce frowned in the mirror. Then at the stack of papers Tharion had handed her. The emails between Sofie and Danika—and a few between Sofie and Emile.

The former were exactly as Tharion had claimed. Vague mentions of things.

But Sofie and Emile’s emails …

I had to leave your sunball game before the end
, Sofie had written in
one exchange more than three years ago,
but Mom told me you guys won! Congrats—you were amazing out there!

Emile had replied,
I was ok. Missed 2 shots.

Sofie had written back, at three in the morning—as if she’d been up late studying or partying—
I once had a game when I missed
ten
shots! So you’re doing way better than me. :)

The next morning, Emile had said,
Thanks, sis. Miss u.

Bryce swallowed hard. Such an ordinary exchange—proof of a normal, decent life.

What had happened to them? How had he wound up in Kavalla? Part of her didn’t want to know, and yet … She read the emails again. The loving, casual exchange between siblings.

Did any of the many people searching for Emile want to actually help him? Not use him, but just … protect him? Maybe he and Sofie would find each other at that rendezvous spot Danika had mentioned. Maybe they’d get lucky, and no one would ever find them.

Danika had always helped those who needed it. Bryce included.

And during the spring attack, when Bryce had run to Asphodel Meadows … it was the same feeling creeping over her now. The boy needed help. She wouldn’t walk away from it.
Couldn’t
walk away from it.

But how did Danika factor in to all of this? She needed to know.

Her stomach protested again. Right—dinner. With a silent prayer to Cthona to keep Emile safe, Bryce emerged from the bedroom and said, “I’m ordering pizza.”

Ruhn said, “I’m in,” as if he’d been invited, but Bryce glanced at the shut door to Hunt’s bedroom.

If
she
needed a moment, he’d sure as Hel need a lot longer.

Hunt turned on the shower with a shaking hand. The blast and splatter of the water provided much-needed white noise, a quieting barrier against the world beyond his bathroom. He’d muttered something about needing a shower and walked in here, not caring what Danaan and Holstrom thought.

Hunt peeled out of his battle-suit, dimly aware of the bruises along his ribs and his face, the brawl with Pollux almost forgotten.

He couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the surge of acid through his veins that made every breath torturous.

Fucking Tharion. That stupid, arrogant asshole. Dragging them—dragging
Bryce
—into this. The River Queen might have no association with Ophion, but Emile was a rebel’s brother. Danika had possibly been a rebel herself. It brought them far too close to Ophion’s orbit.

Of course Bryce wouldn’t have been able to drop it once she’d heard. He knew it was irrational to be pissed at her about it, because part of why he adored her was that she was the kind of person who
would
want to help, but … fucking Hel.

Hunt sucked in a breath, stepping into the now-warm stream, and clenched his jaw against the rising thunder in his blood and the memories that came with it.

Those strategy meetings in Shahar’s war tent; the bloody, screaming chaos of battle; his roar as Shahar died, a piece of his heart dying with her; the bolt of unrelenting pain as his wings were sawed off tendon by tendon—

Hunt sucked in another breath, wings twitching, as if in an echo of that pain.

He couldn’t let it happen again. If all of it had been for Bryce, to get here—then it had happened so that he’d know when to walk away, and keep her safe.

But he hadn’t been able to find those words. Hunt focused on his breathing, on the sensation of his feet against the slick tiles, the dribble of water down his wings.

And couldn’t help but think that warm water felt an awful lot like blood.

Thirty minutes later, they sat around the dining table, four boxes of pizza stacked before them.

“Carnivore’s Delight,” Bryce said with forced cheer to Hunt,
sliding the meat-on-meat-on-meat pizza toward him. He offered a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. She didn’t ask about that haunted gleam, though. Not with Ruhn and Ithan here. Not when Hunt had already made it pretty clear what was going through his head.

They’d undoubtedly have it out the moment they were alone.

“Carnivore’s Delight with extra sausage,” she said to Ithan, winking as she handed over the box. She could have sworn Ithan blushed. “And pepperoni with grilled onions,” she said to Ruhn.

“What’d you get?” her brother asked. An attempt at normalcy after Tharion’s visit.

Hunt and Ithan said at the same time, “Sausage and onion with extra cheese.”

Bryce laughed. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or disturbed.”

But Ithan and Hunt didn’t smile. She caught Ruhn’s glance from across the table, and her brother said into her mind,
Ignoring all the shit with Tharion and Emile, it’s super fucking weird that Holstrom’s here.

She started on her pizza and sighed at the combination of meat and cheese and slightly sweet sauce.
I think it’s super weird for him, too.

Ruhn bit into his slice.
Honestly, don’t flip the Hel out, but you’re technically a Starborn Princess. And you’re now harboring an exiled wolf. I hate this political crap, but … I wouldn’t put it past Sabine to see this as an affront. The wolves are technically our allies.

Bryce sipped from her beer.
It’s not like he has any family left.
Her heart ached.
Believe me, he is fucking
miserable
that he has nowhere else to go.

I can take him in.
Her brother spoke with utter sincerity.

Isn’t that the same political bullshit?

I can say that I’m hiring him to work for the Fae side of the Aux. Claim it’s for a top secret investigation, which I suppose this stuff with Danika and Sofie and Emile is. Sabine can’t get around that
.

All right. But … give him a few days. I don’t want him to think I’m kicking him out.

Why not? He was a dick to you.

There were five years before that when we were close.

So? He was a dick to you when you needed him most.

And I shut him out when he needed
me
most.

Bryce blinked, finding Hunt and Ithan watching her and Ruhn. The angel drawled, no hint of his previous haunted discomfort, “Some might consider it rude to have a silent conversation in front of other people.”

Ithan raised his hand in agreement. How he’d figured out what was going on, she could only attribute to his keen wolf’s abilities. Or his athlete’s skill at reading opponents.

Bryce stuck out her tongue. “Sorry you’re not magical, special Fae like us.”

“Here we go,” Hunt said, diving into his slice. “I was waiting for this day to come.”

“What day?” Ithan swigged from his beer.

Hunt smirked. “When Bryce realizes how truly obnoxious being a princess allows her to be.”

Bryce flipped him off. “If I have to suffer through the title, then you have to suffer through the effects.”

Hunt opened his mouth, but Ithan said, “I heard you had your Ordeal that day this spring. Congrats?”

Bryce went still. “Yeah. Uh, thanks.” She didn’t want to think about it—the n
ø
kk, Syrinx nearly drowning, the tank … Syrinx rubbed against her ankles, as if sensing her distress. And Hunt, also reading it, said to Ruhn, “You had your Ordeal in Avallen, right? And our new friend Cormac was there?”

Before Ruhn could answer, Flynn and Dec strode into the apartment with a key Bryce definitely hadn’t authorized. She whipped her head to Ruhn. “You gave them fingerprint access and copies of my keys?”

Flynn slid into the chair beside hers and pulled her pizza toward himself. “We took Ruhn’s fingerprints when he was passed out during the Summer Solstice, as a way into the system. Then Dec added ours alongside them.”

Declan dropped into the chair beside Ruhn, taking one of her brother’s slices and a beer from the bucket in the center of the
table. “We made copies of the physical keys before he noticed they were gone.”

“You’re really making me look good, you two,” Ruhn grumbled.

Bryce shoved out a hand. “I’m changing my fingerprint system to something more secure. Give me that key.”

Flynn only slid it into his pocket. “Come get it, babycakes.”

Hunt shot the Fae lord a glare, and Declan snickered. “Careful, Flynn,” Dec warned.

Ithan snorted, and the two males eyed him up. Of course they’d already noticed him—they were trained warriors—but they hadn’t yet deigned to acknowledge him.

Flynn flashed a charming smile full of teeth. “Hi, pup.”

Ithan’s fingers tightened into fists at the term. “Hey.”

Declan gave a mirror grin to Flynn’s. “Bryce needed a new pet?”

“Okay, okay,” Bryce cut in. “Let’s just say that we made a thousand dog jokes about Ithan, and he made a thousand Fae asshole jokes about you two idiots, and we now all thoroughly hate each other, but we can be adults and eat our food.”

“I second that.” Hunt dug into his third slice, using his other hand to clink beers with Bryce.

Flynn grinned again. “I thought I heard you ask Ruhn about his Ordeal. It was our Ordeal, too, you know.”

“I know,” Bryce said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “But he won the prize sword, didn’t he?”