House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City) (57 page)

It was a lie, but Celestina’s lips twitched upward. “How long do you want him for?”

“A night.” To go to the Coronal Islands and back before Pippa Spetsos and her cabal could get there. To convince whoever Command sent
not
to give Spetsos free rein to unleash those weapons on Valbara. “We figured we’d take the arrow train instead of driving the eight hours each way. I promised my mother I’d bring him home with me. If he doesn’t come, there will be Hel to pay.” Another lie.

But the Governor smiled fully at that. “Your mother is … a fearsome creature?”

“Oh yeah. And if Hunt’s not there, every bad thing she thinks about him will be confirmed.”

“She doesn’t like him?”

“She doesn’t like
any
male. No one is good enough for me, according to her. You have no idea how hard dating was when I was younger.”

“Try being an Archangel in a small community,” Celestina said, and smiled genuinely.

Bryce grinned. “Everyone was intimidated?”

“Some ran screaming.”

Bryce laughed, and marveled that she did so. Hated that she had to lie to this warm, kind female.

Celestina hooked a curl behind her ear. “So a great deal is riding on Athalar’s visit.”

“Yeah. It’s not like I need her permission to be with him, but it … It’d be nice to have her approval.”

“I’m sure it would.” Celestina’s smile turned sad.

Bryce knew it wasn’t her place, but she asked, “How are you and Ephraim getting along?”

A shadow flickered across Celestina’s face, confirmation that she wasn’t contented. “He’s a thorough lover.”

“But?”

She said deliberately, warning sharpening her voice, “But he has been my friend for many years. I find that I am now getting to know him in a whole new way.”

Celestina deserved so much more than that. Bryce sighed. “I know you’re, like … an Archangel, but if you ever need some girl talk … I’m here.”

The last Governor she’d spoken to had tried to kill her. And she’d put a bullet in his head. This was a nice change.

Celestina smiled again, that warmth—and relief—returning to her features. “I’d like that very much, Your Highness.”

“Bryce in this instance.”

“Bryce.” Her eyes twinkled. “Take Athalar home. And keep him there.”

Bryce’s brows rose. “Permanently?”

“Not at your parents’ house. I mean take him with you to your family, and then he may live with you once more. He’s been moping around so much that he’s bringing down morale. I’ll send him your way tomorrow morning. Let him stew one more night before I tell him at dawn.”

Bryce beamed. “Thank you. I mean it, thank you
so
much.”

But the Governor waved a hand. “You’re doing me a favor, trust me.”

Bryce made a call on her way to her next stop.

Fury answered right before it went to audiomail. “You fucked up, Bryce.”

Bryce cringed. “I know. I’m really sorry.”

“I get why you did it. I really do. But she is
devastated
.”

Bryce stepped off the elevator and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Please tell her I’m so sorry. I’m so freaking sorry. I was trying to help, and I didn’t think.”

“I know,” Fury said. “But I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

“You’re her girlfriend.”

“Exactly. And you’re her friend. And mine. I’m not playing the messenger. Give her some time, then try to talk it out.”

Bryce sagged against a worn wall. “Okay. How long?”

“A few weeks.”

“That’s ages!”

“Devastated. Remember?”

Bryce rubbed at her chest, the unlit scar there. “Fuck.”

“Start thinking of big ways to apologize,” Fury said. Then added, “You ever figure that thing out with Danika or the kid?”

“Not yet. Want to help?” It was as much as she’d risk saying on the phone.

“No. I’m not getting in the middle of that shit, either.”

“Why?”

“I have a lot of good things going on right now,” Fury said. “June is one of them. I’m not jeopardizing any of it. Or her safety.”

“But—”

“Big apology. Don’t forget.” Fury hung up.

Bryce swallowed her nausea, her self-disgust and hatred. She walked down the quiet hall to a familiar door, then knocked. She was rewarded by the sight of Hunt opening the door, shirtless and wearing his backward sunball hat. Gleaming with sweat. He must have just returned from the gym.

He jolted. “What are you—”

She cut him off with a kiss, throwing her arms around his neck.

He laughed, but his hands encircled her waist, lifting her high enough that she wrapped her legs around his middle. He slowed the kiss, his tongue driving deep, exploring her mouth. “Hi,” he said against her lips, and kissed her again.

“I wanted to tell you the news,” she said, kissing his jaw, his neck. He’d already hardened against her. She went molten.

“Yeah?” His hands roamed over her ass, kneading and stroking.

“Tomorrow morning,” she said, kissing his mouth again and again. “You’re outta here.”

He dropped her. Not entirely, but swiftly enough that her feet hit the ground with a thud. “What?”

She ran her hands down his sweat-slick, muscled chest, then toyed with the band of his pants. Ran a finger up the length of him jutting out with impressive demand. “We’re going on a little vacation. So do a good job of seeming like you’re still brooding tonight.”

“What?” he repeated.

She kissed his pec, running her mouth over the taut brown nipple. He groaned softly, his hand sliding into her hair. “Pack a swimsuit,” she murmured.

A male voice chuckled behind them, and Bryce went rigid, whirling to find Pollux, arm slung around a beautiful female’s shoulders, walking by. “Is he paying you by the hour?” the Hammer asked.

The female—the
Hind
—snickered, but said nothing as they approached. Solas, she was … beautiful and terrible. She’d tortured countless people. Killed them—probably including Sofie Renast. If Cormac saw her, if he got this close, would he take the risk and try to end her?

The Hind’s amber eyes gleamed as they met Bryce’s, as if she knew every thought in her head. The deer shifter smiled in invitation.

But the Hind and the Hammer continued on, for all the world looking like a normal couple from behind. Bryce couldn’t help herself as she said to Pollux’s back, “You really need to come up with some new material, Pollux.”

He glared over a shoulder, white wings tucking in tight. But Bryce smiled sweetly and he, mercifully, kept walking, his wretched lover with him.

Bryce found Hunt smiling beside her, and it lightened any guilt about Juniper, any frustration with Fury, any fear and dread at being so close to the Hind, even as she yearned to tell him everything. Hunt tugged her hand, making to pull her into his room, but she planted her feet. “Tomorrow morning,” she said hoarsely, her very bones aching with need. “Meet me at home.”

She’d tell him everything then. All the insane shit that had gone on since they’d last seen each other.

Hunt nodded, hearing what she didn’t say. He tugged her again, and she went to him, tilting back her head to receive his kiss. His hand slipped down the front of her leggings. He growled against her mouth as his fingers found the slickness waiting for him.

She whimpered as he rubbed over her clit in a luxurious, taunting circle. “I’ll see you at dawn, Quinlan.”

With a nip at her bottom lip, Hunt stepped back into his room. And as he shut the door, he licked his fingers clean.

Ithan blinked at the phone ringing in his hand.

Prime
.

Every Valbaran wolf had the Prime’s number in their phones. But Ithan had never once called it, and the Prime of Wolves had never once called him. It couldn’t be good.

He halted midway down the alley, neon signs casting pools of color on the cobblestones beneath his boots. Sucking in a breath, he answered, “Hello?”

“Ithan Holstrom.”

He bowed his head, even though the Prime couldn’t see him. “Yes, Prime.”

The withered old voice was heavy with age. “I was informed today that you are no longer residing at the Den.”

“On Sabine’s order, yes.”

“Why?”

Ithan swallowed. He didn’t dare say why. Sabine would deny it anyway. Sabine was the male’s daughter.

“Tell me why.” A hint of the Alpha the Prime had been during his younger years came through in his voice. This male had made the Fendyr family a force to be reckoned with in Valbara.

“Perhaps ask your daughter.”

“I want to hear it from you, pup.”

Ithan’s throat worked. “It was punishment for disobeying her orders during the attack this spring and helping the humans in Asphodel Meadows. And punishment for praising Bryce Quinlan’s actions during the attack in a magazine article.”

“I see.” Apparently, that was all the Prime needed. “What do you plan to do now?”

Ithan straightened. “I’m, ah, living with Prince Ruhn Danaan and his friends. Helping them out in the Fae division of the Aux.” Helping with a rebellion.

“Is that where you wish to be?”

“Is there an alternative?”

A drawn-out, too-tense pause. “I would make you Alpha of your own pack. You have it in you—I’ve sensed it. For too long, you have suppressed it so others might lead.”

The ground beneath Ithan seemed to rock. “I … What about Sabine?” Ithan’s head swirled.

“I shall deal with my daughter, if this is what you choose.”

Ithan had no fucking idea who’d even be in his pack. He’d locked himself out so thoroughly from old friends and family after Connor’s death that he’d only bothered to associate with Amelie’s pack. Perry was the closest thing he had to a friend at the Den, and she’d never leave her sister’s side. Ithan swallowed hard. “I’m honored, but … I need to think about this.”

“You have been through a great deal, boy. Take the time you need to decide, but know the offer stands. I would not lose another wolf of worth—especially to the Fae.” Before Ithan could say goodbye, the old wolf hung up. Stunned and reeling, Ithan leaned against one of the brick buildings in the alley. Alpha.

But … an Alpha in Sabine’s shadow, once the Prime was gone. Sabine would be
his
Prime. Amelie would reign as her Prime Apparent. And then Prime, when Sabine herself was gone.

He had little interest in serving either of them. But … was it a betrayal of the wolves, of his brother’s legacy, to leave the Valbaran packs to Sabine’s cruelty?

He brushed his hair back from his face. It was longer than it’d ever been while playing sunball. He couldn’t tell if he liked it or not.

Fuck, he couldn’t tell if he liked
himself
or not.

Straightening, Ithan pushed off the wall and finished his walk, arriving at his destination. The towering doors to the Astronomer’s building of horrors were shut. Ithan pulled the crescent moon door chime once.

No answer.

He pulled it a second time, then pressed an ear to one of the metal doors, listening for any hint of life. Not even a footstep, though he could make out the hum of the machines beyond. He knocked twice, and then pressed his shoulder into the door. It opened with a groan, nothing but darkness beyond. Ithan slipped in, silently shutting the heavy door behind him. “Hello?”

Nothing. He aimed for the faint, pale glow of the three tanks in the center of the cavernous space. He’d never seen anything so
strange and unsettling—the three beings who’d been sold into this life. Existence. This sure as fuck wasn’t a life.

Not that he’d know. He hadn’t had one in two years.

Their visit last week had lingered like an unhealed wound.

He might have walked out of here condemning everything he’d seen, but he’d still given the Astronomer his money. Kept this place running.

He knew it bugged Bryce, but she’d been swept back into the shit with Danika, and as a princess, her hands were tied as far as a public scene. Especially when she walked such a dangerous line these days—any additional bit of scrutiny might be her downfall.

But no one gave a fuck about him. No matter what the Prime had said.

“Hello?” he called again, the word echoing into the dimness.

“He’s not here,” rasped a hoarse female voice.

Ithan whirled, reaching for his gun as he scanned the darkness. His wolf-sight pierced through it, allowing him to make out the speaker’s location. His hand dropped from his hip at the sight of her.

Long chestnut-brown hair draped over her too-thin, pale limbs, her body clad in that white shift that all three mystics wore. Her dark eyes were still—like she was only half-there. A face that might have been pretty, if it weren’t so gaunt. So haunted.

Ithan swallowed, slowly approaching where she huddled against the wall, bony knees clutched to her chest. “I wanted to see your … boss.”

He couldn’t say
owner
, even though that’s what the old creep was. In the gloom, he could make out a worktable beyond the mystic sitting on the floor, with a small box atop it. Light filtered out from the box, and he had a good idea of what was kept inside it. Who were kept inside, trapped in those four rings, which were apparently valuable enough that the old male had left them behind, rather than risk them in the city at large.

The mystic’s rasping voice sounded as if she hadn’t spoken in ages. “He put the other two back in, but didn’t have the part he needed to fix my machine. He’s at the Meat Market, meeting with the Viper Queen.”

Ithan sniffed, trying to get a read on her. All he could get from this distance was salt. Like it had brined the scent right out of her. “You know when he’ll be back?”

She only stared at him, like she was still hooked up to the machine beyond them. “You were the one who freed me.” Solas, she sat with such … Vanir stillness. He’d never realized how much
he
moved until he stood before her. And he’d considered himself capable of a wolf’s utter stillness.

“Yeah, sorry.” But the word stuck—
freed
. She’d been pleading to go back. He’d assumed she’d meant into the between-place where the mystics roamed, but … What if she’d meant this world—back to her life before? The family who had sold her into this?