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

“The same way you weren’t ever just a college sunball player, huh?”

Ithan ignored the barb. “You asked me about Danika. Aside from everything that went down with the synth, that’s the only thing I can think of. Sorry if it’s not what you hoped for.”

Tharion just looked at the male leaning against the counter. Alone.

Maybe he was a sappy bastard, but Tharion pointed toward the TV. “I missed the sunball game against Korinth last night and want to see the highlights. Mind if I watch with you while we wait for the others?”

Ithan frowned, but Tharion put a hand on his heart. “No secret spying stuff, I swear.” He sighed. “I could use a few minutes of peace.”

Ithan weighed the words, Tharion’s expression, with a keen-eyed sharpness that the wolf had used on his opponents. Perhaps the sunball player wasn’t dead after all.

But Ithan only said, “There’s leftover pizza if you’re hungry.”





15

Ruhn met his sister outside the Fae Archives right as the lunchtime crowds spilled into the warren of streets in Five Roses.

Amid the throng, few of the milling Fae noticed them, too focused on getting food or scrolling through their phones. Still, Bryce slid on a sunball cap and a pair of sunglasses as she stepped onto the blisteringly hot street that even the trees and greenery of FiRo couldn’t entirely cool.

“I’m not wearing that getup,” Ruhn said. Certainly not in Fae territory. “People are going to figure out who you are pretty damn fast.”

“I can’t take any more of the gawking.”

“Comes with the territory.”

Bryce grumbled something Ruhn chose not to hear. “So Tharion’s back at the house?” he asked as they headed toward her apartment.

“Yep. Already grilling Ithan.” Which was why she’d asked him to come as backup. A fact that gave him no small amount of satisfaction.

They crossed a busy intersection teeming with Fae and shifters, the occasional draki making their way past. Ruhn said, “I take it you didn’t invite me to walk you home for some muscle in the mean streets of Crescent City.” He wryly nodded to the angels and witches soaring overhead, the little otter in his yellow vest scooting by, the family of some sort of equine shifters trotting between the cars.

She glared at him over her sunglasses. “I wanted to discuss something with you—and I don’t trust the phone. Or messages.”

Ruhn blew out a breath. “I know the shit with Cormac is absurd—”

“It’s not about Cormac. It’s about Danika.”

“Danika?”

“I saw Fury this morning. She told me Danika was a bloodhound. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes,” Ruhn said, surprise shooting through him. “You’re simply … telling me this?”

His sister waved a dismissive hand. “Danika kept a lot of things from me. And I don’t see the point in keeping secrets anymore.”

“It’s okay to be pissed at her, you know.”

“Spare me the self-help lecture, okay?”

“Fair enough.” He rubbed his jaw. “I guess this explains how Danika knew we were siblings before anyone else.” He’d never forget running into Bryce and Danika at that frat party—his first time seeing his sister in years. And how Danika had stared at him. Then looked at Bryce, brows high. He’d known in that moment that Danika had guessed what no one else had, even as Bryce introduced him as her cousin. He’d chalked it up to her uncanny observation skills.

“I thought she was just good at scenting,” Bryce said, fanning her face against the heat. “Not a genius or whatever. Do you think this could have anything to do with her connection to Sofie?”

“It seems like a stretch. Danika was a powerful, influential Vanir regardless of that gift. She could have been sought out by Sofie or Ophion for a host of other reasons.”

“I know.” They fell silent until Bryce halted outside the glass doors of her apartment building. “Maybe Sofie thought Danika could help free her brother from Kavalla or something. It sounded like she was working on that for years before she was able to get to him. Maybe she imagined Danika had the influence.”

Ruhn nodded. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it had been like—for Emile to endure, and for Sofie to spend every moment of every day praying and working for his survival. That she hadn’t given up, that she’d accomplished it … Ruhn had no words. “Did Danika have that kind of sway, though?” he asked.

Bryce shook her head. “I mean, she might have been able to, but she never tried to do anything like that, as far as I know. And I don’t see why Sofie would contact Danika, of all people, when Danika was here and Sofie was over in Pangera. It doesn’t add up.” Bryce flipped her ponytail over a shoulder and grunted her frustration. “I want to know what Sofie knew about Danika.”

“I get that,” Ruhn said carefully. “And I get why you want to find Emile, too. But I’ll say this one more time, Bryce: if I were you, I’d stay out of whatever game Tharion and the River Queen are playing in looking for the kid. Especially if Ophion is on the hunt for Emile as well.”

Bryce opened the door to her building, air-conditioning smothering them like a frosty blanket, and waved to Marrin. The ursine shifter waved back from the front desk, and Ruhn offered a half smile to the male before he stepped into the elevator after his sister.

Ruhn waited until the doors had shut before he said softly, “I know Athalar already said this to you last night, but the Asteri could kill you for even getting involved. Even if it’s something as seemingly harmless as finding this kid.”

Bryce idly wrapped the length of her ponytail around a wrist. “They could have killed me this spring, but they didn’t. I’m guessing they won’t now.”

Ruhn toyed with his lip ring, tugging on the silver hoop as the elevator doors opened and they stepped out onto her floor. “If they want you alive, I’d start wondering why that is. You have the Horn in your back. That’s no small thing.” He couldn’t help himself from glancing at his sister’s back as he said it, eyeing the upper tendrils of the tattoo visible above her dress. “You’re a power player now, Bryce, whether you like it or not. And trust me, I get it—it sucks to want to be normal but to have all this other shit that keeps you from being that way.” His voice turned hoarse and she looked over a shoulder at him, face neutral. “But you’re Starborn and you have the Horn. And you have a lot of power thanks to the Drop. The Bryce before this spring might have searched for Emile with few repercussions, but the Bryce who exists now? Any move you make will be politicized, analyzed—viewed as an act of aggression or rebellion or outright war. No matter what you say.”

Bryce sighed loudly—but her eyes had softened. Either at what he’d said, or what he’d admitted to her about his own life. “I know,” she said before unlocking the front door to her apartment.