Fuck. He replied, Tell her it was an emergency and that Baxian needed to help me.

  He trailed you?

  Just busting my balls, Hunt lied.

  All right. Be careful.

  Ithan said to Ruhn, “I’m accepting your offer.”

  Hunt’s brows twitched toward each other. Bryce asked, “What offer?”

  Ruhn sized her up before saying, “To come live with me and the guys. Because of your thin-ass walls.”

  Tharion said with mock outrage, “I had dibs on the pup as my friend.”

  “Sorry for sexiling you, Ithan,” Bryce muttered. Hunt laughed, but Ithan didn’t. He didn’t look at Bryce at all. Weird.

  Ruhn said to Ithan, “All right. You fighting that asshole first, or can we go?” He nodded to Baxian.

  Hunt kept perfectly still. Ready to either intervene or referee.

  Ithan surveyed the angel with that athletic precision and focus. Baxian only smiled at him in invitation. How many times had Hunt seen that expression on the Helhound’s face before he ripped into someone?

  But Ithan wisely shook his head. “Another time.”

  Three minutes later, Ithan was stepping into the hallway with Ruhn and Tharion, who had to go report to his queen once more.

  “Ithan,” Bryce said before he could leave. From the kitchen, Hunt watched her take a step into the hall, then halt, as if catching herself. “We made a good team.”

  From his angle, Hunt couldn’t see Ithan’s face, but he heard the quiet “Yeah,” right before the elevator doors dinged. Then, “We did.” For all the world, Hunt could have sworn the wolf sounded sad.

  A moment later, Bryce walked back into the apartment and aimed right for Hunt, looking like she’d drop into his arms with exhaustion. She drew up short upon seeing Baxian. “Enjoying the view?”

  Baxian stopped his surveying. “Nice place. Why’d Sabine come here?”

  Bryce examined her nails. “She was pissed that I’ve been harboring Ithan after she kicked his ass to the curb.”

  “You know about her and Mordoc, though.” It wasn’t exactly a question.

  “You know?” Hunt asked.

  Baxian shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve spent years with the Hind and those who serve her. I picked up a few interesting details.”

  “What happened when Mordoc visited Danika?” Bryce asked.

  “It didn’t go well. He came back to Sandriel’s castle …” Baxian said to Hunt, “Remember the time he ate that human couple?”

  Bryce choked. “He what?”

  Hunt said roughly, “Yeah.”

  “That was when he’d returned from the visit to the Den,” Baxian explained. “He was in such a rage that he went out and killed a human couple he found on the street. Started eating the female while the male was still alive and begging for mercy.”

  “Burning fucking Solas,” Bryce breathed, her hand finding Hunt’s.

  “Sabine was right to warn you away from him,” Baxian said, aiming for the door.

  Hunt grunted. “I never thought he’d be in this city.”

  “Let’s hope he’s gone soon, then,” Baxian said, not looking back.

  Bryce said, hand sliding from Hunt’s, “Why did you come here, Baxian?”

  The angel-shifter halted. “Athalar seemed like he needed help. We’re partners, after all.” His grin was savage, mocking. “And watching Celestina and Ephraim pretend to be into each other was too torturous, even for me.”

  Bryce was having none of it, though. “You were also at the Black Dock this morning.”

  “Are you asking if I’m spying on you?”

  “Either that or you desperately want in on the cool kids’ club.”

  “A good spy would tell you no, and say you were being paranoid.”

  “But you’re … not a good spy?”

  “I’m not a spy at all, and you’re being paranoid.”

  Bryce rolled her eyes, and Hunt smiled to himself as she walked to the door, making to shut it behind Baxian. As she closed the door, he heard her say to the Helhound, “You’re going to fit right in around here.”

  “Why’d you say that to him?” Hunt asked as he slumped onto the bed beside her later that night.

  Bryce rested her head on Hunt’s shoulder. “Say what?”

  “That thing to Baxian about fitting in.”

  “Jealous?”

  “I just …” His chest heaved as he sighed. “He’s a bad male.”

  “I know. Don’t think too much about my nonsense, Hunt.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s … He’s a bad male. I know he is. But I was no better than him.”

  She touched his cheek. “You’re a good person, Hunt.” She’d assured him of that so many times now.

  “I told Celestina I’d have her back with Ephraim and then bailed. Good people don’t do that.”

  “You bailed to come rescue your mate from the big bad wolf.”

  He flicked her nose, shifting onto his side, wings a wall of gray behind him. “I can’t believe Mordoc is Danika’s father.”

  “I can’t believe our souls get turned into firstlight food,” she countered. “Or that the Hind brought her dreadwolves here. Or that the Under-King is a fucking psychopath.”

  Hunt’s laugh rumbled through her. “Rough day.”

  “What do you think happened in the Bone Quarter—with your lightning and the firstlight and everything?”

  “What were you even thinking, jumping in front of my lightning?”

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  He glared. “You know that scar on Baxian’s neck? I did that to him. With my lightning. With a blow a fraction of what I unleashed on the Starsword.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re the tough, smart male who knows best and I’m an impulsive female whose feelings get her in trouble—”

  “For fuck’s sake, Quinlan.”

  She propped her head on a hand. “So you had no idea you could do that? Take the energy from the Dead Gate and transform it into lightning and all that?”

  “No. It never occurred to me to channel anything into my lightning until the Prince of the Pit suggested it the other night. But … it made sense: you took the power out of the Heart Gate this spring, and Sofie Renast, as a thunderbird, could do something similar, so … even if the push came from the Prince of the Pit, trying it out seemed like a good alternative to being eaten.”

  “You went …” She wiggled her fingers in the air. “All lightning-berserker.”

  He kissed her brow, running a hand down her hip. “I get a little hysterical when your safety is involved.”

  She kissed the tip of his nose. “Such an alphahole.” But she flopped back on the bed, tucking her arms under her head. “You think there actually is a resting place for our souls?” She sighed at the ceiling. “Like, if we died and didn’t go to those places … what would happen?”

  “Ghosts?”

  She scowled. “You’re not helping.”

  He chuckled, tucking his hands behind his own head. She crossed her ankle over his shin, and they lay there in silence, staring at the ceiling.

  He said after a while, “You traded your resting place in the Bone Quarter for Danika’s.”

  “Given what happens to everyone over there, I feel kind of relieved about that now.”

  “Yeah.” He took one of her hands in his and laid their interlaced fingers atop his heart. “But wherever you’re headed when this life is over, Quinlan, that’s where I want to be, too.”

  36

  The bridge was blissfully quiet compared to the absolute insanity of Ruhn’s day.

  He’d brought Holstrom back to his place, where Flynn and Dec had been gobbling down five pizzas between the two of them. The former had arched a brow at Ruhn’s announcement that the fourth bedroom—a disgusting heap of crap thanks to years of throwing their messes in there before parties—was now Ithan’s. He’d have the couch tonight, and tomorrow they’d clean out all the shit. Declan had only shrugged and tossed Ithan a beer, then pulled his laptop over, presumably to continue combing through the gallery footage.

  Flynn had eyed the wolf, but shrugged as well. The message was clear enough: Yeah, Holstrom was a wolf, but so long as he didn’t mouth off about Fae, they’d get along just fine. And a wolf was always better than an angel.

  Guys were simple like that. Easy.

  Not like the female burning across from him on the bridge.

  “Hey, Day.” He wished he had someplace to sit. For one fucking moment. He was technically sleeping, he supposed, but …

  Well, damn. A deep-cushioned armchair appeared a foot away. He slumped into it and sighed. Perfect.

  Her snort rippled toward him, and another chair appeared. A red velvet fainting couch.

  “Fancy,” he said as Day draped herself over it. She looked so much like Lehabah that his chest ached.

  “Seeing me like this causes you distress.”

  “No,” he said, puzzled as to how she’d read his emotions when night and stars covered his features. “No, it’s … I, ah, lost a friend a few months ago. She loved to sit on a couch like that one. She was a fire sprite, so your whole fire thing … struck a little close to home.”

  She angled her head, flame shifting with her. “How did she die?”

  He checked himself before he could reveal too much. “It’s a long story. But she died saving my—someone I love.”

  “Then her death was noble.”

  “I should have been there.” Ruhn leaned back against the cushions and gazed toward the endless black above them. “She didn’t need to make that sacrifice.”

  “You would have traded your life for a fire sprite’s?” There was no condescension in the question—merely bald curiosity.

  “Yeah. I would have.” He lowered his stare back to her. “Anyway, we made the intel drop-off. Nearly got caught, but we did it.”

  She straightened slightly. “By whom?”

  “Mordoc. The Hind. The Harpy.”

  She stilled. Her fire guttered to that violet blue. “They are lethal. If you’re caught, you will be lucky to just be killed.”

  Ruhn crossed an ankle over a knee. “Believe me, I know that.”

  “Mordoc is a monster.”

  “So’s the Hind. And the Harpy.”

  “They’re all … Where you are now?”

  He hesitated, then said, “In Lunathion. Might as well tell you—you could have turned on the news and figured out where they are.”

  She shook her head, flame flowing. “You say too much.”

  “And you too little. Any other intel about the shipment on the Spine?”

  “No. I thought you called me here to tell me something.”

  “No. I … I guess my mind reached for yours.”

  She watched him. And even though he couldn’t see her face, and she couldn’t see his, he’d never felt so naked. She said quietly, “Something’s riled you.”

  How could she tell? “My day was … difficult.”

  She sighed. Tendrils of fire rippled around her. “Mine too.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  The word was teasing, a reminder of their earlier conversation. She did have a sense of humor, then.

  Day said, “I work with people who are … Well, they make Mordoc seem like one of those sweet little otters in your city. There are days when it wears on me more than others. Today was one of them.”

  “Do you at least have friends to lean on?” he asked.

  “No. I’ve never had a true friend in my life.”

  He winced. “That’s … really sad.”

  She snorted. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t think I’d have made it this far without my friends. Or my sister.”

  “For those of us with neither friends nor family, we find ways to make do.”

  “No family, eh? A true lone wolf.” He added, “My father’s a piece of shit, so … a lot of the time I wish I were like you.”

  “I have a family. A very influential one.” She propped her head on a burning fist. “They’re pieces of shit, too.”

  “Yeah? Your dad ever burn you for speaking out of turn?”

  “No. But he did flog me for sneezing during prayers.”

  She wasn’t an Asteri, then. Asteri had no family. No children. No parents. They just were.

  He blinked. “All right. We’re even.”

  She laughed quietly, a low, soft sound that ran delicate fingers over his skin. “A truly tragic thing to have in common.”

  “It really is.” He smiled, even if she couldn’t see it.

  She said, “Since you are in a position of power, I’m assuming your father must be as well.”

  “Why can’t I be self-made?”

  “Call it intuition.”

  He shrugged. “All right. What about it?”

  “Does he know of your rebel sympathies?”

  “I think my work has gone beyond sympathies now, but … no. He’d kill me if he knew.”

  “Yet you risk your life.”

  “What’s the question, Day?”

  Her mouth quirked to the side. Or what he could see of it did. “You could use your power and rank to undermine people like your father, you know. Be a secret agent for the rebellion in that sense, rather than doing this message-carrying.”

  She didn’t know who he was, right? Ruhn shifted in his chair. “Honestly? I’m shit at those deception games. My father is the master of them. This is far more my speed.”

  “And yet your father is allowed to stay in power?”

  “Yeah. Aren’t all of these assholes allowed to stay in power? Who’s going to stop them?”

  “Us. People like us. One day.”

  Ruhn snorted. “That’s some idealistic shit right there. You know that if this rebellion is triumphant, we’ll likely have a war for dominance between all the Houses, don’t you?”

  “Not if we play the game well.” Her tone was completely serious.

  “Why tell me any of this? I thought you were all … no-personal-stuff.”

  “Let’s chalk it up to a difficult day.”

  “All right,” he repeated. He leaned back in his chair once more, letting himself fall quiet. To his surprise, Day did the same. They sat in silence for long minutes before she said, “You’re the first person I’ve spoken to normally in … a very long time.”

  “How long?”

  “So long that I think I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be myself. I think I’ve lost my true self entirely. To destroy monsters, we become monsters. Isn’t that what they say?”

  “Next time, I’ll bring us some psychic beers and a TV. We’ll get you normal again.”

  She laughed, the sound like clear bells. Something male and primal in him sat up at the sound. “I’ve only ever had wine.”

  He started. “That’s not possible.”

  “Beer wasn’t deemed appropriate for a female of my position. I did have a sip once I was old enough to … not answer to my family, but I found it wasn’t to my liking anyway.”

  He shook his head in mock horror. “Come visit me in Lunathion sometime, Day. I’ll show you a good time.”

  “Given who is present in your city, I think I’ll decline.”

  He frowned. Right.

  She seemed to remember, too. And why they were here. “Is it confirmed where the rebels are making the strike on the Spine shipment?”

  “Not sure. I’m the go-between, remember?”

  “You told them what I said about the Asteri’s new mech-suit prototype?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t forget that it’s the most valuable thing on that train. Leave the rest.”

  “Why not blow up the entire Spine and break their supply lines?”

  Her fire sizzled. “We’ve tried multiple times. With each attempt, we’ve been thwarted. Either by betrayal or things simply going wrong. An attack like that requires a lot of people, and a lot of secrecy and precision. Do you know how to make explosives?”

  “No. But there’s always magic to do that.”

  “Remember that the rebellion is mostly humans, and their Vanir allies like to remain hidden. We are dependent on human resourcefulness and abilities. Simply compiling enough explosives to enact a serious hit on the Spine takes a great deal of effort. Especially considering the great losses Ophion has taken to its numbers lately. They’re on the ropes.” She added, oozing disgust, “This isn’t a video game.”

  Ruhn growled. “I’m aware of that.”

  Her flame banked a fraction. “You’re right. I spoke out of turn.”

  “You can just say ‘I’m sorry.’ No need for the fancy talk.”

  Another soft laugh. “Bad habit.”

  He saluted her. “Well, until next time, Day.”

  He half hoped she’d counter with something to keep them talking, keep him here.

  But Day and her couch faded into embers drifting on a phantom wind. “Goodbye, Night.”

  Ithan Holstrom had never been inside a full-fledged Fae’s house. There’d only been two Fae males on his CCU sunball team, and both were from cities across the territory, so he’d never had the chance to go to their homes and meet their families.

  But Prince Ruhn’s house was cool. It reminded him of the apartment Connor and Bronson and Thorne once had—a few blocks from here, actually: crappy old furniture, stained walls with posters of sports teams taped on them, an overly large TV, and a fully stocked bar.

  He hadn’t minded crashing on the couch last night. Would have slept on the porch, if it meant being far away from where Bryce and Hunt slept together.

  The clock beneath the TV read seven in the morning when Ithan rose and showered. He helped himself to Tristan Flynn’s array of fancy shampoos and body products, all marked FLYNN’S. DO NOT TOUCH, RUHN. I MEAN IT THIS TIME.

  Ruhn had written beneath the scribbling on one of the bottles: NO ONE LIKES YOUR WEIRD SHAMPOO ANYWAY.

  Flynn had scrawled, right along the bottom edge of the bottle, THEN WHY IS IT NEARLY EMPTY? AND WHY IS YOUR HAIR SO SHINY? ASSHOLE!!!

  Ithan had snickered, even as his heart squeezed. He’d had that kind of dynamic once with his brother.

  His brother, who was either already turned into secondlight—or on his way there.