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

Considering the two Death Marks inside, it was no wonder.

Cormac sipped from his tea, face clouded. He’d arrived barely past dawn, apparently after Ruhn had called him to demand that he rush over, thus dragging Hunt from slumber—and Bryce’s arms—with his knocking. “The suits are the one advantage we have. Well, that the humans have.”

“I know that,” Hunt countered tightly. “I’ve fought them. I know them inside and out.”

And he’d taken them apart. And sabotaged them so their pilots didn’t stand a chance.

He’d been content to let that knowledge serve him lately for stuff like fixing Bryce’s bike—which he’d gone so far as to wash for her before handing it back over—but if the Asteri were making a mech-suit of their own for a Vanir soldier to use …

“I always forget,” Ruhn murmured from where he sat on the couch beside Bryce, “that you fought in two wars.” The one he’d waged and lost with the Fallen, and then the years spent fighting at Sandriel’s command against the Ophion rebels.

“I don’t,” Hunt said, earning an apologetic wince from Ruhn. “We need to be careful. You’re sure this information was real?”

“Yeah,” Ruhn said.

Holstrom settled himself against the wall beside the counter, silently watching the exchange. His face revealed nothing. A laptop sat open on the couch, though, still combing through the years of gallery footage for any hint of Danika.

But this conversation with Cormac, this hit on the Spine … “You likely have double agents in Ophion,” Hunt said to the Avallen Prince.

“Not Daybright,” Cormac said with absolute certainty.

“Anyone can be bought,” Hunt said.

Bryce said nothing, busy pretending that she was more interested in her pink toenails than this conversation. Hunt knew she was picking over every word.

He’d emerged from the bedroom intending to tell every single person who crossed his path that she was his mate, but Ruhn had been waiting with this news instead, apparently having slept on the couch.

“Regardless,” Cormac said tightly, “I need to pass this information along.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ruhn said. Bryce’s mouth popped open in alarm.

“You could be walking right into a trap,” Hunt warned.

“We don’t have any choice,” Cormac countered. “We can’t risk losing this opportunity.”

“And what do you risk losing if it’s fake?” Lightning crackled at Hunt’s fingers. Bryce’s eyes flicked up to him at last, wary and full of caution.

She said before Cormac could answer, “This isn’t our business, Hunt.”

“Like Hel it isn’t. We’re tied into it, whether we want to be or not.”

Golden fire filled her gaze. “Yes, but we have nothing to do with this hit; this intel. It’s Ophion’s problem to deal with.” She straightened, giving Ruhn a scathing look that seemed to say, You should stay out of it, too, but faced Cormac. “So go report to Command and keep us out of it.”

Cormac stared her down, his jaw working.

She gave him a slash of a smile that set Hunt’s blood thrumming. “Not used to females giving you orders?”

“There are plenty of females in Command.” Cormac’s nostrils flared. “And I would advise you to behave as a Fae female ought to when we are seen together in public. It shall be hard enough to convince others of our betrothal thanks to that smell on you.”

“What smell?” Bryce said, and Hunt braced his feet. She could take care of herself in a fight, but he’d still enjoy pummeling the bastard.

Cormac motioned between her and Hunt. “You think I can’t scent what went down between you two?”

Bryce leaned back against the cushions. “You mean, that he went down on me?”

Hunt choked, and Ruhn let out a garbled string of curses. Ithan walked to the coffee machine and muttered something about it being too early.

Cormac, however, didn’t so much as blush. He said gravely, “Your mingling scents will jeopardize this ruse.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Bryce said, and then winked at Hunt.

Gods, she’d tasted like a dream. And the sweet, breathy sounds she made when she came … Hunt rolled out the tautness in his shoulders. They had a long day ahead of them. A dangerous day.

They were going to the Bone Quarter today, for fuck’s sake. The street camera footage had pinpointed that the Reaper who’d attacked Bryce and Ruhn had been within a block of the Black Dock, but even with Declan’s skills, they hadn’t found any concrete proof of the Reaper sailing over. It was enough of a link that they’d question the Under-King about it, though. And if they got through that, then Hunt planned to have a long, long night. He’d already made a reservation at a fancy-ass hotel restaurant. And reserved a large suite. With rose petals and champagne.

Cormac drummed his fingers on the table and said to Bryce, “If you find Emile in the Bone Quarter, let me know immediately.” Bryce, to Hunt’s surprise, didn’t object. Cormac pivoted to Ruhn, jerking his chin to the door. “We need to get going. If that supply train is leaving in three days, we can’t waste a moment.” He looked sharply at Hunt. “Even if it’s bad intel.”

“I’m ready.” Ruhn got to his feet. He frowned at his sister. “Good hunting. Stay out of trouble today, please.”

“Right back at you.” Bryce grinned, though Hunt noted that her attention was on the Starsword—as if she were speaking to it, pleading with it to protect her brother. Then her gaze slid to Cormac, who already stood at the door. “Be careful,” she said pointedly to Ruhn.

The warning was clear enough: Don’t trust Cormac entirely.

Ruhn nodded slowly. The male might have claimed he’d changed since trying to kill the prince decades ago, but Hunt didn’t trust him, either.

Ruhn turned toward Ithan as the wolf aimed for the discarded laptop on the couch. “Look, I hate to drag anyone else into our shit, but … you want to come?”

Holstrom jerked his chin toward the laptop. “What about the footage?”

“It can wait a few hours—you can look through any flagged sections when we get back. We could use your skills today.”

“What skills?” Bryce demanded. Pure, protective alarm. “Being good at sunball doesn’t count.”

“Thanks, Bryce,” Ithan grumbled, and before Ruhn could supply a reason for inviting the wolf, he said, “Sabine will have a fit if I’m caught helping you.”

That was the least of what would happen if he was caught aiding rebels. Hunt tried not to shift his wings, tried to halt the echo of agony through them.

“You don’t answer to Sabine anymore,” Ruhn countered.

Ithan considered. “I guess I’m already in this mess.” Hunt could have sworn guilt and worry filled Bryce’s face. She chewed her bottom lip, but didn’t challenge Ithan further.

“Okay,” Ithan continued, plugging in the laptop. “Let me get dressed.”