House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City, #2)

She shook her head. “No. I also needed everyone to think I was looking for Emile, and that we’d cleared this space, so if the Viper Queen did manage to get him, no one would come here again. And I needed you and Fury with me so that the Viper Queen would remember who would come fuck her up if she hurt the kid in the process.”

That queen now stood before them, a slim female in a neon-green silk jumpsuit beside a large, plush couch. Her glossy black bob reflected the golden flames from the fireplace to her right. And seated on the couch before her, small and thin and wide-eyed, was a boy.

“Come to collect your package or make more threats about Athalar cooking me alive?” the Viper Queen asked, puffing on a cigarette between her purple-painted lips.

“Nice sneakers” was all Bryce said, gesturing to the snake shifter’s white-and-gold high-tops. But Bryce offered Emile a gentle smile. “Hey, Emile. I’m Bryce.”

The boy said nothing. Rather, he looked up at the Viper Queen, who drawled, “Red’s the one who got you here. Ignore the angel. He’s all bark, no bite.”

“Oh, he likes to bite,” Bryce murmured, but Hunt was in no mood to laugh. Or even smile. He said to the Viper Queen, power sparking in his veins, “Don’t think for one moment that I’ll ever forget how you screwed me over that night with Micah. Vik’s suffering and Justinian’s death are on you.”

The queen had the audacity to look down at herself, as if searching for guilt.

But before Hunt could contemplate roasting her, Emile squeaked, “Hi.”

He was just a kid, alone and afraid. The thought doused any lightning in Hunt’s veins.

Bryce nodded at the Viper Queen. “I’d like a moment with Emile, please.” It was a command. From a princess to another ruler.

The Viper Queen’s slitted pupils widened—with amusement or predatory intent, Hunt didn’t know. But she said, “Emile, holler if you need anything.” She sauntered down an ornate, wood-paneled hallway and vanished through a door.

Bryce plopped onto the couch beside Emile and said, “So what’s up?” The boy—and Hunt—blinked at her.

Emile said quietly, “My sister’s dead, isn’t she?”

Bryce’s face softened, and Hunt said, “Yeah. She is. We’re so sorry.”

Emile gazed at his pale, bony hands. “The Vipe said you were looking, but … I knew.” Hunt scanned the boy for any hint of that thunderbird gift. Any hint of a magic able to harvest and transform power to his will.

Bryce put a hand on Emile’s shoulder. “Your sister was a badass. A brave, brilliant badass.”

Emile offered a wobbly smile. Gods, the boy was scrawny. Way too thin for his lanky frame. If this was how thin he remained after a few weeks outside the death camp’s barbed-wire fences … This boy had seen and endured things that no child—no person—should face.

Shame flooded Hunt, and he sat down beside Bryce.

No wonder she’d worked alone to arrange this—none of the rest of them had really stopped to think about the kid himself. Just his power, and what it might mean if the wrong person got hold of it.

Hunt tried to catch her eye, to show her that he understood, and he didn’t hold any of this against her, but she kept her focus on the boy.

Bryce said quietly, “I lost a sister, too. Two years ago. It was hard, and you never stop feeling the loss, but … you learn to live with it. I’m not going to tell you time heals all wounds, because for some people it doesn’t.” Hunt’s heart strained at the pain in her voice, even now. “But I get it. What you’re feeling.”

Emile said nothing. Hunt suppressed the urge to gather both of them in his arms and hug them tightly.

“And look,” Bryce went on, “no matter what the Viper Queen says to you, don’t take her threats too seriously. She’s a psycho, but she’s not a kid killer.”

“Real reassuring,” Hunt muttered.

Bryce scowled at him. “It’s true.”

But Hunt knew why the Viper Queen wouldn’t have harmed the kid. He turned to the fighting pit beyond the window. It was dim and quiet now, too early in the day for the fights that drew hundreds—and made millions—for the snake shifter.

Alarm flared. Hunt blurted, “You didn’t sign any contracts with her, right?”

“Why would she want me to sign anything?” Emile said, toeing the carpet.

Hunt said quietly, “Thunderbirds are insanely rare. A lot of people would want that power.” He extended a hand toward Emile, and lightning wreathed his fingers, wending between them. “I’m not a thunderbird,” Hunt said, “but I’ve got a similar gift. Made me, ah … valuable.” He tapped the branded-out slave’s mark on his wrist. “Not in any way that counts, deep down, but it made certain people willing to do a lot of bad things to attain me.” The Viper Queen would kill—had killed—to own that power.

Emile’s eyes widened at the lightning. Like he was seeing Hunt for the first time. “Sofie said something like that about her power once. That it didn’t change who she was inside.”

Hunt melted a bit at the trust in the kid’s face. “It didn’t. And your power doesn’t, either.”

Emile glanced between them. Then down the hall. “What power?”

Hunt slowly, slowly turned to Bryce. Her face revealed nothing. “Your … thunderbird power? The power that downed those Omega-boats?”

The kid’s face shuttered. “That was Sofie.”

Bryce lifted her chin in challenge. “Emile doesn’t have any powers, Hunt.”

Hunt looked like she’d dumped a bucket of ice water on him.

“What do you mean?” he asked, voice low. He didn’t wait for her to reply before he pushed, “How do you know, Bryce?”

“I didn’t know for sure,” Bryce said. The small, scared boy now cringed away from the angel. She continued, “But I figured it was a good possibility. The only thing Vanir care about is power. The only way to get them to care about a human boy was to spin a story about him having powers like Sofie’s. The only way to make sure he got to safety was to craft a lie about him being valuable. I had a feeling Sofie knew that all too well.” She added with a soft smile to the boy, “Emile was—is valuable. To Sofie. To his family. As all loved ones are.”

Hunt blinked. Blinked again. Anger—and fear—warred in his eyes. He whispered, “Does the Viper Queen know this?”

Bryce didn’t hide her disdain. “She never asked.” Bryce had been sure to word the bargain between them very carefully, so Emile could walk out of here whenever he wished.

Hunt’s lightning writhed across his brow. “Any protection she’s offering this kid will vanish the moment she knows.” His gaze shifted to Emile, who watched the lightning not in fear, but with sorrow. The lightning immediately vanished. Hunt rubbed his face. Then said to Bryce, “You did all of this on a guess?”

“Sofie was part-human. Like me.” Cormac himself had said they were alike. She explained as gently as she could, “You’ve never spent a moment of your life as a human, Hunt. You always had value to Vanir. You just said so yourself.”

His wings rustled. “And what was the Vipe’s asking price?”

“She’d retrieve Emile, hold him here—in comfort and safety—until I came to pick him up. And in return, I’d owe her a favor.”

“That was reckless,” he said through his teeth.