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

Their masters. Their overlords. The parasites who had lured them all into this world. Who had fed off them for fifteen thousand years.

Rigelus wouldn’t have told her so much if he planned to ever let her go again.

She wished she’d called her mom and Randall. Wished she could hear their voices one more time. Wished she’d made things right with Juniper. Wished she’d lain low and been normal and lived out a long, happy life with Hunt.

It wouldn’t have been normal, though. It would have been contented ignorance. And any children they had … their power would one day have also been siphoned off to fuel these cities and the monsters who ruled them.

The cycle had to stop somewhere. Other worlds had managed to overthrow them. Hel had managed to kick them out.

But Bryce knew she and Hunt and Ruhn wouldn’t be the ones to stop the cycle. That task would be left to others.

Cormac would continue to fight. Maybe Tharion and Hypaxia and Ithan would pick up the cause. Perhaps Fury, too.

Gods, did Jesiba know? She’d kept Parthos’s remaining books—knowing the Asteri would want to wipe out the narrative that contradicted their own sanctioned history. So Jesiba had to know what kind of beings ruled here, didn’t she?

The Hind led their group down the hall, Pollux at their backs. At the far, far end of the passage, Bryce could make out a small arch.

A quartz Gate.

Bryce’s blood chilled. Did Rigelus plan to have her open it as some sort of test before cracking wide the Rifts?

She’d do it. Rigelus had Hunt and Ruhn in his claws. She knew her mate and brother would tell her that their lives weren’t worth it, but … weren’t they?

The Hind turned a third of the way down the hall, toward a pair of colossal open doors.

Seven thrones towered on a dais at the far end of the cavernous, crystal space. All but one lay empty. And the center throne, the occupied one … it glowed, full of firstlight. Funneling it right into the being who sat atop it.

Something feral opened an eye in Bryce’s soul. And snarled.

“I suppose you’re pleased to have added yet another angel to your kill list with the death of the Harpy,” the Bright Hand of the Asteri drawled to Bryce, stare sweeping over the blood caked on her. “I do hope you’re ready to pay for it.”





76

Hunt stared at his severed wings, mounted on the wall high above the Asteri’s thrones.

Shahar’s pristine white wings were displayed above his, still glowing after all these centuries, right in the center of the array. Isaiah’s were to the left of Hunt’s. So many wings. So many Fallen. All preserved here.

He’d known the Asteri had kept them. But seeing them …

It was proof of his failure. Proof that he should never have come here, that they should have told Ophion and Tharion and Cormac to fuck off—

“I did you a favor, killing the Harpy,” Bryce said to Rigelus, who watched her with lifeless eyes. At least the five others weren’t here. “She was a drag.”

Hunt blinked at his blood-splattered mate. Her eyes smoldered like coals, defiant and raging. She’d seen his wings, too.

Rigelus propped his slender chin on a fist, leaning a bony elbow against his throne. He appeared as a Fae boy of seventeen or so, dark-haired and gangly. A weak facade to veil the ancient monster beneath. “Shall we banter some more, Miss Quinlan, or can I get to the part where I order you to confess the names of your allies?”

Bryce smirked, and Hunt had never loved her more. On her other side, Ruhn glanced between the Asteri and his sister, as if trying to formulate a plan.

Hunt caught a familiar scent, and he twisted to see Baxian and Mordoc enter behind them. They walked to where the Hind and the Hammer stood by the pillars. Blocking the way out.

Rigelus had known of their mission here before they’d even reached Pangera’s shores—before they’d even set out. Mordoc had tracked their scents with that bloodhound’s gift all around the city, marking each location and reporting directly to the Bright Hand.

And Hunt had left his phone in Lunathion, for fear of it being tracked here. Baxian wouldn’t have been able to warn him, if he’d even been willing to risk doing so.

Hunt’s eyes met Baxian’s. The male revealed nothing. Not one bit of recognition.

Had everything he’d told them been a trap? A long con to get them here?

Bryce said to Rigelus, drawing Hunt’s attention away, “There is no one else. But let’s talk about how you’re intergalactic parasites who trick us into making the Drop so you can feed off our firstlight. And then feed off our souls’ secondlight when we die.”

Hunt went still. He could have sworn someone behind him—Baxian or the Hind, perhaps—started.

Rigelus snorted. “Is this your way of telling your companions what you know?”

Bryce didn’t avert her gaze. “Hel yeah, it is. Along with the fact that if we destroy that core of firstlight beneath this palace—”

“Silence,” Rigelus hissed, and the room shuddered with power.

But Hunt’s mind reeled. The Asteri, the firstlight … Bryce caught his stare, her eyes brimming with rage and purpose. There was more, she seemed to say. So much more to be used against the Asteri.

Rigelus pointed at Ruhn. “I’m sure you could enlighten me as to who has been helping you. I know of Prince Cormac—I’d hoped his rebel activities might be of use someday. When we learned of his treachery, the others wanted to kill him and be done with it, but I thought it might be … valuable to see where and to whom he led us. A Prince of the Fae would no doubt wind up around other powerful Vanir, perhaps even try to recruit some of them, and thus root out the corruption among our most loyal subjects. So why kill one traitor, when we could eventually kill many? Alas, he’s dead now. That’s where my other siblings are—drawn out to the lab, as you no doubt expected. But they reported that another male was with the prince, and fled.”

Bryce made a low sound in her throat.

Rigelus turned to her. “Oh yes. Cormac incinerated himself and the lab. A great setback, considering how useful he was, but one we shall overcome, of course. Especially with Pippa Spetsos among the dead.”

At least Tharion had escaped unidentified.

“Perhaps we shall call in your father to assist with the questioning,” Rigelus went on to Ruhn, bored and cool. “He was so skilled at wielding his fire to get things out of you when you were a boy.”

Ruhn stiffened.

Hunt took in Bryce’s blood-flecked features. He’d only once seen this level of rage on her face. Not toward Rigelus, but the male who’d sired her. It was the same rage he’d beheld that day she’d killed Micah.

“Isn’t that what so many of the tattoos are for?” Rigelus continued. “To hide the scars he left on you? I’m afraid we’ll have to ruin some of the ink this time around.”

Fucking Hel. Bryce’s lips had gone white from pressing them together so hard. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Ruhn looked at his sister and said softly, “You brought so much joy into my life, Bryce.”