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

“Let me guess,” Tharion drawled at the Harpy, who lifted her head from where a Fae male weighed out the drugs, “it’s not yours; it’s for a friend.”

The Harpy’s dark eyes narrowed with warning as she eased to her feet. “Here to narc on me, fish?”

Tharion smiled slowly. “Just paying a friendly visit.”

She turned her menacing stare to the Viper Queen, who slid her hands into her pockets and leaned against the far wall. “Did you sell me out?”

“This pretty hunk of meat waltzed in. Wanted a word. He knows the rules.”

Tharion did. This was the Viper Queen’s space. Her word was law. He had as little authority over her as he did the Asteri. And if he pulled anything, she had as much authority as the Asteri to end him. Likely by throwing him into that fighting pit and seeing how many of her fighters it took to kill him.

Tharion gestured to the doorway in a mockery of a bow. “I won’t trouble you.”

The Harpy glanced at the male who now scooped her lightseeker into a black velvet bag lined with plastic.

“VIP service, huh?” Tharion said to the Viper Queen, whose lips curved again.

“Only the best for my most valued clients,” she said, still leaning against the wall.

The Harpy snatched the bag from the Fae male, her black wings rustling. “Keep your mouth shut, mer. Or you’ll wind up in pieces like your sister.”

He let out a low growl. “Keep talking, hag, and I’ll show you what I did to the male who killed her.”

The Harpy chuckled, tucking her drugs into the pocket of her jacket, and walked out, wings a black cloud behind her.

“Buying or selling?” the Viper Queen asked him quietly as the Fae male packed up his drugs and scale and bustled out.

Tharion turned to her, willing the rage riding his temper to ease off. “You know that psychopath made blood eagles out of two rebels, don’t you?”

“Why do you think I invited her to be a client? Someone who does that kind of shit needs to take the edge off. Or keep it on, I suppose.”

Tharion shook off his disgust. “She talk to you about what those rebels were doing in this city?”

“Are you asking me to play spy, Captain?”

“I’m asking you whether you’ve heard anything about Ophion, or a commander named Pippa Spetsos.” He needed to know if and when Pippa and her Lightfall unit would make a move, even without that mech-suit prototype. If he could save innocent lives in this city, he would.

“Of course I have. Everyone’s heard of Ophion.”

Tharion ground his teeth. “You know what they’re up to?”

She took a long drag from her cigarette. “Information isn’t free.”

“How much?”

“The dragon’s good for business.” Her snake eyes didn’t move from his. “Fight last night brought in a lot of money. I worked out a deal with her: she’ll get a portion of profits from her wins, and it can go toward buying her freedom.”

“You don’t own her.” No matter that he wanted to hand her over to his queen like …

Fuck, like a slave.

“No, I don’t. That’s why I’ll need you to spin whatever bullshit your friends and their lawyer gave to the Astronomer. Something about royal commandeering?” The Viper Queen admired her immaculate nails. “Tell everyone her fighting here is a matter of imperial security.”

“No one will believe that.” And fuck, he needed that dragon. He needed her as an exit strategy out of this Emile situation. And any fallout for leaving the queen’s daughter.

“People believe anything when presented correctly.”

Tharion sighed at the mirrored ceiling. The dragon had at least agreed to be here, to fight toward her freedom, but …

The Viper Queen said, as if somehow reading or guessing his thoughts, “Even in that humanoid form, she can turn you into ashes if you try to bring her to the Blue Court.” Tharion glowered, but said nothing. She went on, “You and your little gaggle of friends have been awfully active lately. I might have let Quinlan talk me into a bargain for the kid, but I have no plans to let this dragon slip out of my hands.” A sharp smile. “You fools should have kept a tighter leash on her.”

Tharion gave her a sharp smile of his own. “It’s not my call whether she can stay here or not.”

“Get your royal friends and their legal team to spin their bullshit and we’ll be good, mer.”

Fuck. He was really going to walk out of here empty-handed, wasn’t he. His mind raced as he tried to think up some other prize to bring back to his queen, something to save his hide …

He’d figure it out later. When he wasn’t in front of a notoriously lethal Vanir.

He sighed and said, “If the dragon agrees, then whatever. We’ll spin our bullshit.”

“She already has.” Another sly smile.

“So tell me what Spetsos is up to.” If he could appear competent in his job as Captain of Intelligence, maybe the information about a rebel threat would keep his queen’s wrath at bay.

The Viper Queen pulled out her phone, checking the digital clock. “Call your friends and find out.”

“What?”

But the Viper Queen had already turned back to the hall, to the dragon and Flynn at its other end.

Tharion dialed Hypaxia. Hunt. Then Bryce. Ithan. Ruhn. No one answered.

He didn’t dare put it into a message, but … He dialed Hunt again. “Pick the fuck up,” he murmured. “Pick the fuck up.”

For a moment, he flashed back to another day, when he’d tried and tried to call his sister only to get her audiomail, so he’d called his parents, asking if they’d spoken to her, if they knew where she was—

Tharion reached Flynn, who was sitting on the couch, engaging in a silent staring contest with Ariadne. He couldn’t keep the edge from his voice as he said, “Call Ruhn. See if he’ll pick up for you.”

“What’s wrong?” Flynn was instantly on his feet.

“Not sure,” Tharion said, heading for the door. He swallowed down those awful memories and his rising dread. “Any idea where they were today?”

The Viper Queen said behind them, sinking onto the couch again, “Good luck.”

Tharion and Flynn paused at the doorway. The Fae lord pointed to the dragon. “We’re not done here.”

Ariadne only watched the TV again, ignoring him.

Flynn snarled. “I’m coming back for you.”

Tharion tucked away the knowledge of what he’d done, what he’d bargained for this measly tip-off about Ophion and Spetsos. He’d tell Flynn later.

Ariadne’s stare turned to Flynn as the vault door swung open again. Black turned to red. “Spare your high-handedness for someone who wants it, lordling.”

Tharion stepped into the hall, phone again at his ear. Bryce didn’t answer.

But Flynn looked back at the dragon lounging in the Viper Queen’s nest. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart,” the Fae lord growled, and followed Tharion out.

Bryce had been to Urd’s Temple in Moonwood all of one time since moving to Crescent City years ago. She and Juniper had drunkenly taken a cab over here one night during college to make an offering to the goddess of fate to make sure their destinies were epic.

Literally, that was what she’d said.