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

“Tell Prince Cormac I send my love,” the Hind said.

Bryce was one breath away from calling the Autumn King when the door to the apartment opened. And apparently, she looked a Hel of a lot worse than her brother or Ithan, because they immediately demanded to know what had happened to her.

Hunt, nursing a beer at the kitchen counter, said, “Emile and Sofie aren’t in the Bone Quarter. But we found out some major shit. You’d better sit down.”

Yet Bryce went up to her brother, scanning him from the piercings along his ear to his tattooed arms and ass-kicking boots. Not one sleek black hair out of place, though his skin was ashen. Ithan, standing at his side, didn’t give her the chance to turn to him before approaching the fridge and grabbing a beer of his own.

“You’re all right?” Bryce asked Ruhn, who was frowning at the dirt and blood on her—the wound on her back had thankfully closed, but was still tender.

Tharion said from where he sat on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table, “Everyone is fine, Legs. Now let’s sit down like a good little rebel family and tell each other what the Hel happened.”

Bryce swallowed. “All right. Yeah—sure.” She scanned Ruhn again, and his eyes softened. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“We couldn’t answer our phones.”

She didn’t let herself reconsider before throwing her arms around her brother and squeezing tight. A heartbeat later, he gently hugged her back, and she could have sworn he shuddered in relief.

Hunt’s phone buzzed, and Bryce pulled away from Ruhn. “Celestina wants me at the Comitium for Ephraim’s arrival,” Hunt said. “She wants her triarii assembled.”

“Oh, Ephraim’s already here.” Ithan dropped onto the couch. “We learned the hard way.”

“You saw him?” Bryce asked.

“His cronies,” Ithan said, not looking at her. “Played poker with them and everything.”

Bryce whirled on Ruhn. Her brother nodded gravely. “The Hind and the Harpy showed up to the bar where we were lying low. I can’t tell if it was because Mordoc sniffed around the alley where Cormac made the intel drop or what. But it was … not great.”

“Do they know?” Hunt asked quietly, storms in his eyes. “About you? About us?”

“No idea,” Ruhn said, toying with his lip ring. “I think we’d be dead if they did, though.”

Hunt blew out a sigh. “Yeah, you would be. They would have taken you in for questioning already.”

“The Hind is a fucking monster,” Ithan said, turning on the TV. “Her and the Harpy, both.”

“I could have told you that,” Hunt said, finishing his beer and striding to where Bryce stood before the glass dining table. She didn’t stop him as he slid a hand over her jaw, cupping her cheek, and kissed her. Just a swift brush of their mouths, but it was a claiming and a promise.

“Rain check?” he murmured onto her lips. Right. The dinner and the hotel—

She frowned pitifully. “Rain check.”

He chuckled, but grew deadly serious. “Be careful. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t go looking for that kid without me.” He kissed her forehead before leaving the apartment.

Bryce offered up silent prayers to Cthona and Urd to protect him.

“Glad you two finally sorted it out,” Tharion said from the couch.

Bryce flipped him off. But Ruhn sniffed her carefully. “You … smell different.”

“She smells like the Istros,” Ithan said from the couch.

“No, it’s …” Ruhn’s brows twitched toward each other, and he scratched at the buzzed side of his head. “I can’t explain it.”

“Stop sniffing me, Ruhn.” Bryce hopped onto the couch on Tharion’s other side. “It’s gross. Story time?”





34

“How do I look?” Celestina whispered to Hunt as they stood in front of the desk in her private study. Isaiah flanked her other side, Naomi to his left, Baxian to Hunt’s right. Baxian had barely done more than nod to Hunt when he’d entered.

Hunt had taken the flight over here to soothe his nerves, his residual rage and awe at what he and Bryce had done. What they’d learned. By the time he’d alighted on the landing veranda, his face had become impassive once more. The mask of the Umbra Mortis.

It cracked a little, however, upon seeing Pollux a step away from Naomi. Grinning with feral, anticipatory delight.

This was a reunion from Hel. The Hind and the Hammer, back together once more. Never mind the Harpy and the Helhound—things had always revolved around Pollux and Lidia, their twin shriveled souls, and no one else. Thank the gods the Hawk had stayed behind in Pangera.

Hunt murmured to Celestina, “You look like a female about to enter an arranged mating.” He was amazed his words had come out so casually, considering how his morning had gone.

The Archangel, clad in dawn-soft pink, gold at her wrists and ears, threw him a sad, What can you do? kind of smile.

Hunt, despite himself, added, “But you do look beautiful.”

Her smile gentled, light brown eyes with them. “Thank you. And thank you for coming in on your day off.” She squeezed his hand, her fingers surprisingly clammy. She was truly nervous.

Down the hall, the elevator doors pinged. Celestina’s fingers tightened on Hunt’s before letting go. He could have sworn hers were shaking.

So Hunt said, “It’s no problem at all. I’ll be right here all night. You need to bail, just give me a signal—tug on your earring, maybe—and I’ll make up some excuse.”

Celestina smiled up at him, squaring her shoulders. “You’re a good male, Hunt.”

He wasn’t so sure of that. Wasn’t so sure he hadn’t offered only to make her like him so that when shit hit the fan, if Baxian or the Hind or anyone suggested he and Quinlan were up to anything shady, she’d give him the benefit of the doubt. But he thanked her all the same.

The meeting between Ephraim and Celestina was as stiff and awkward as Hunt had expected.

Ephraim was handsome, as so many of the Archangels were: black hair cut close to his head in a warrior-like fashion, light brown skin that radiated health and vitality, and dark eyes that noted every person in the room, like a soldier assessing a battlefield.

But his smile was genuine as he looked upon Celestina, who strode toward him with outstretched hands.

“My friend,” she said, peering up into his face. As if seeing it for the first time.

Ephraim smiled, white teeth straight and perfect. “My mate.”

She ducked her head right at the moment he went in to kiss her cheek, and Hunt reined in his cringe as Ephraim’s lips met the side of her head. Celestina jolted back, realizing the miscommunication, that people were witnessing this, and—

Isaiah, gods bless him, stepped forward, a fist on his heart. “Your Grace. I welcome you and your triarii.” Ephraim had only brought Sandriel’s triarii with him, Hunt realized. Had left his original members back in Pangera with the Hawk.