House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City) (76 page)

Ruhn stepped into the hall and murmured, “Unless you weren’t the one they were supposed to kill.” He jerked his chin toward Hypaxia, lowering his voice. He assessed the quiet halls of the embassy—no witches in sight—before saying, “Maybe her coven summoned them, somehow.”

Bryce frowned. “Why?”

Ruhn paced a step. “You’d be the perfect cover story. She was
walking beside someone Hel has a score to settle with—someone who’d pissed Hel off this spring. Deathstalkers imply the Prince of the Pit’s involvement. If she’d died, all eyes would be on Hel. Everyone would think they’d targeted you, and she’d be the unfortunate additional loss.”

“What about Ithan, though?”

Hunt picked up Ruhn’s thread. “Also collateral. After this spring, I doubt Sabine would be stupid enough to summon a demon. That leaves our enemies or Hypaxia’s. But given what Apollion threatened … I’d say odds are it was him. Maybe he was willing to take the risk that you’d die during his little test—maybe he supposed that if you died, you wouldn’t be worthy of battling him anyway.”

Bryce rubbed her face. “So where does that leave us?”

Hunt interlaced their fingers. “It leaves us with the realization that this city needs to be on high alert and you need to be armed at all times.”

She glared. “That’s not helpful.”

Ruhn, wisely, kept his mouth shut.

“You didn’t have any weapons tonight,” Hunt snarled. “You two had
one knife
between you. You were lucky Ithan carried that gun. And you were even luckier in your guess that Hypaxia could charge up your ability to teleport.”

Ruhn grunted his agreement.

“So that’s how you did it,” Declan said, walking back into the hall. The warrior shut the door behind him, giving Hypaxia and Ithan privacy.

Bryce sketched a bow. “It’ll be my special solo act during the school talent show.”

Declan snorted, but Ruhn was assessing her. “You really teleported?”

Bryce explained everything again, and Hunt couldn’t keep himself from tugging her closer. When she finished, Ruhn echoed Hunt’s words. “We got lucky tonight.
You
got lucky tonight.”

Bryce winked at Hunt. “And I plan to get lucky again.”

“Gross,” Ruhn said as Declan snickered.

Hunt flicked Bryce’s nose and said to Ruhn, “Let’s set up watches around the apartment and this embassy—assign your most trusted soldiers. I’ll get Isaiah and Naomi on it, too.”

“The 33rd and the Aux teaming up to guard little old me?” Bryce crooned. “I’m flattered.”

“This is not the time to debate alphahole politics,” Hunt ground out. “Those were fucking deathstalkers.”

“And I dealt with them.”

“I wouldn’t be so dismissive,” he growled. “The Prince of the Pit will send hordes of them through the Northern Rift if he ever gets it fully open, rather than shoving one or two through at a time for fun. They hunt down whoever they’re ordered to stalk. They’re assassins. You get marked by them for execution, and you are
dead
.”

She blew on her fingers, as if chasing off dust. “All in a day’s work for me, then.”

“Quinlan—”

Ruhn started laughing.

“What?” Hunt demanded.

Ruhn said, “You know who I was talking to before I got your call? My father.” Bryce went still, and Hunt knew it was bad. Ruhn grinned at him. “
Your
father in-law.”

“Excuse me?”

Ruhn didn’t stop grinning. “He told me the wonderful news.” He winked at Bryce. “You must be so happy.”

Bryce groaned and turned to Hunt. “It’s not official—”

“Oh, it’s official,” Ruhn said, leaning against the wall beside the door.

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” Hunt growled.

Ruhn smirked at Hunt. “She’s been bandying about the royal name, apparently. Which means she’s accepted her position as princess. And as you’re her mate, that makes you son-in-law to the Autumn King. And my brother.”

Hunt gaped at him. Ruhn was completely serious.

Bryce blurted, “Did you ask him about Cormac? The Autumn King insists the engagement is still on.”

Ruhn’s amusement faded. “I don’t see how it could be.”

“I’m sorry,” Hunt cut in, “but what the fuck?” His wings splayed. “You’re now officially a
princess
?”

Bryce winced. “Surprise?”

56

Ithan groaned, his body giving a collective throb of pain.

His throat—jaws and fangs and claws, the queen and
Bryce
—

He lunged up, hand at his neck—

“You’re safe. It’s over.” The calm female voice came from his right, and Ithan twisted, finding himself on a narrow bed in a gilded room he’d never seen.

Queen Hypaxia sat in a chair beside him, a book in her lap, wearing her blue robes once again. No sign of the casual, modern female he’d been trailing earlier. His voice was like gravel as he asked, “You all right?”

“Very well. As is Miss Quinlan. You’re at my embassy, in case you were wondering.”

Ithan sagged back against the bed. He’d been ambushed, like a fucking novice. He’d always prided himself on his reflexes and instincts, but he’d had his ass handed to him. The queen opened her mouth, but he demanded, “What about the dragon?”

Hypaxia’s mouth tightened. “Ariadne was nowhere to be found. It appears she has taken her chances with the law and fled.”

Ithan growled. “She bailed?” The dragon had claimed she couldn’t. That there was nowhere in Midgard she could go without the Astronomer finding her.

Gods. One guarding assignment and he’d fumbled it. Badly.

He deserved to have his throat ripped out. Deserved to be lying here, like a weak fucking child, for his ineptitude.

Hypaxia nodded gravely. “The city cameras picked it up: Ariadne left the moment I entered the pizza shop. But nothing more—even the cameras can’t find her.”

“She’s likely halfway across the planet by now,” Ithan grumbled. The Fae males were going to be so pissed.

“You liberated her from the ring. From serving a terrible master. Are you surprised that she is not willing to wait for someone to purchase her again?”

“I thought she’d be grateful, at least.”

Hypaxia frowned with disapproval. But she said, “She is a dragon. A creature of earth and sky, fire and wind. She should never have been contained or enslaved. I hope she stays free for the rest of her immortal life.”

The tone brooked no room for argument, and—well, Ithan agreed with the queen anyway. He sighed, gently rubbing at his tender throat. “So what the fuck attacked us? A demon?”

“Yes, an extremely deadly one.” She explained what had happened.

Ithan eased into a sitting position once more. “I’m sorry I fucked this one up so badly. I … I don’t like making mistakes like this.” Losing grated on his very soul. The queen and Bryce were safe, but he was a fucking
loser
.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” the queen said firmly. “Considering the gravity of the situation, I’m assuming your friends know more about the motives behind this attack than they have told me.”

Well, she was definitely right on that one. Ithan blew out a breath that set his throat aching. It’d be another few hours until it was totally healed.

He had no idea how long it’d take until he forgave himself for fucking up tonight.

“So you can really contact Connor on the Autumnal Equinox?” he asked quietly, hating that he needed to change the subject. Not that this new one was much better.

“Yes.” She angled her head, curls spilling over her shoulder. “You worry for him.”

“Wouldn’t you? I don’t care if we’ve been told that he’s, like, off-limits. I want to make sure he’s okay. I heard what you said to Bryce—about ensuring your mom didn’t go to one of the sleeping realms. I want you to do that for him.” He swallowed, then amended, “If you’re cool with that, Your Majesty.”

Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “I shall do my best.”

Ithan sighed again, staring at the tall windows on the other side of the room, the drapes shut for the night. “I know you’re already doing a lot for me, but … the Astronomer has a wolf enslaved to him as one of his mystics. Is there anything you could do for her?”

“What do you mean?” He took it as a good sign that she didn’t say no.

He said, “I can’t just leave her there.”

“Why is it your burden to free her?”

“Wolves don’t belong in cages. That’s what the mystics’ tanks are. Watery cages.”

“And what if she wants to be in there?”

“How could she?” Before the queen could answer, he plowed on, “I know it’s random. There are so many other people suffering out there. But it doesn’t sit right with me.”

He’d screwed up enough in the past two years—he wouldn’t drop the ball on this. An Alpha wolf in captivity—the idea was abhorrent. He’d do whatever he could to help her.

She seemed to read whatever lay on his face. “You’re a good male, Ithan Holstrom.”

“You met me yesterday.” And after tonight, he sure as fuck didn’t deserve that claim.

“But I can tell.” She touched his hand gently. “I do not think there is much I can do to help the mystic, unfortunately, beyond what your other royal friends might be able to accomplish.”

Ithan knew she was right. He’d find another way, then. Somehow. “Well, this is fucked.”

“It sure is,” said a male voice from the doorway, and Ithan
blinked, surprised to find Flynn and Declan standing there, Tharion a step behind them.

“Hey,” Ithan said, bracing for the ridicule, the ribbing, the questioning about how the Hel he’d mangled protection duty.

But Declan bowed his head to the queen before sauntering over to Ithan. “How you feeling, pup?”

“Fine,” Ithan said, then admitted, “A little sore.”

“Getting your throat ripped out does that to a male,” Flynn said. He winked at Hypaxia. “But she fixed you up pretty good, didn’t she?”

Hypaxia smiled up at him. Tharion, lingering by the door, chuckled.

Ithan said quietly, “Yeah, she did.”

Declan clapped his hands together. “Okay, well, we just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Hypaxia added, “They’ve been in and out all night.”

“You’ll give them away as big old softies, Pax,” Tharion said to the queen, who shook her head at the name. As if Tharion often used it to annoy her.

Declan asked the queen, “When can he come home?”

Home.
The word rang through Ithan. He’d been their roommate for only a week and a half. When had he last had a true home? The Den hadn’t been one since his parents had died.

But … that was genuine concern on Declan’s face. On Flynn’s. Ithan swallowed hard.

“Tomorrow morning,” Hypaxia said, and rose from her chair. “I’ll do my final check then, and if you’re cleared, you’ll be on your way, Ithan.”

“I’m supposed to guard you,” Ithan countered, his voice thick.

But she patted his shoulder before walking to the door. Tharion fell into step beside her, like he planned to converse in private. The witch-queen said to Ithan as she and the mer left, “Take tomorrow off.”

Ithan opened his mouth to object, but she’d already left, the mer with her.

Flynn slung himself into the seat the queen had vacated. “Don’t tell Ruhn, but I’d love to have that female do a check on
me
.”

Ithan scowled, but refrained from explaining what he’d overheard. The queen loved another and seemed pretty cut up about it. But what good was love, in the face of duty?

He’d keep Hypaxia’s romance quiet. She’d agreed to her union with Ruhn, and he could do nothing but admire that she’d chosen to do so even when her heart lay with someone else.

Fuck, he knew how that felt. He blocked out Bryce’s face from his mind.

Declan was saying to Flynn, “Do yourself a favor and don’t hit on her. Or tease her.”

“She’s Ruhn’s fianc
é
e,” Flynn said, propping his boots on the edge of Ithan’s bed and tucking his hands behind his head. “That entitles me to some ribbing.”

Ithan laughed, eyes stinging. No one ever joked in Amelie’s pack. He might coax a smile from Perry every once in a while, but mostly they were all serious. Humorless. They never laughed at themselves.

But these guys had come to check on him. Not to rip into him for failing. They didn’t even seem to view it as a failure.

Flynn asked a shade seriously, “You’re really feeling all right, though?”

Ithan mastered himself. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Declan said.

Ithan’s throat tightened. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it—people having his back. Caring if he lived or died. The Pack of Devils had been that for him, yes, but his sunball team, too. He hadn’t spoken to any of them since Connor’s death.

Flynn’s eyes softened slightly, as if seeing something on Ithan’s face, and Ithan straightened, clearing his throat. But Flynn said, “We got you, wolf.”

“Why?” The question slipped out before Ithan could wonder whether he should ask. But there were probably dozens of Fae who’d spent years trying to squeeze into the trio that was Ruhn, Flynn,
and Declan. Why they’d brought Ithan into their little circle was beyond him.

Flynn and Dec swapped glances. The latter shrugged. “Why not?”

“I’m a wolf. You’re Fae.”

“So old-fashioned.” Flynn winked. “I had you pegged as more progressive than that.”

“I don’t want your pity,” Ithan said.

Declan drew back. “Who the fuck said anything about pity?”

Flynn put up his hands. “We’re only friends with you because we want good sunball tickets.”

Ithan looked between the males. Then burst out laughing.

“All right.” He rubbed at his sore throat again. “That’s a good enough reason for me.”

Ruhn monitored his sister as they waited for Athalar to finish briefing some senior members of the 33rd on what had gone down with the deathstalker.

It felt like last spring all over again. Granted, Micah had been the one summoning those kristallos demons, but … this couldn’t be good. The Horn was tattooed on Bryce’s back now—what wouldn’t Hel do to attain it?

“The answer,” Bryce said to Ruhn, “is that I’m not going to allow any sort of security detail.”