House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City, #3)

Baxian huffed a laugh. “Does it matter? Your exact genetic makeup?”

Hunt considered again. “No. That’s just stuff in my blood, my magic. It’s not who I am.” He shrugged. “That’s what Bryce says, anyway. I’m working on believing it.”

Baxian nodded to the halo on Hunt’s brow. “So how come you haven’t taken it off yet? They claimed you’ve had the power all along.”

Hunt glanced toward the raftered ceiling. “I will,” he hedged.

Baxian gave Hunt a look that said he saw right through him. That right now, Hunt needed a breather. Just some time to process everything. He wanted to be free of the halo, but to go full Prince of Hel or whatever … he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

But Baxian said, “Bryce is right, though. Who you are isn’t about what’s biologically in your system. It’s about who raised you. Who you are now.”

Hunt’s mother’s face flashed before his eyes, and he fixed the memory of her close to his heart. “Have you and Bryce been exchanging notes on how to give me a pep talk?”

Baxian laughed, then glanced around. “Where is she, anyway? Off making more gardens?”

Hunt laughed quietly. “Probably. But I came here to find you—we’re having a council of war in a minute, but I wanted to ask you something first.”

Baxian crossed his powerful arms, giving Hunt his full attention. “What?”

“Some shit’s going down soon. I need someone to run things if I’m not around.”

“And where would you be?”

“You’ll hear about everything from Bryce,” Hunt said, holding his stare. “But I need a second in command right now.”

Baxian raised his brows. For a moment, Hunt was in a war tent again, giving orders to his soldiers before battle. He shook off the chill of the memory and folded his wings.

Baxian smirked, though. “Who said you’re in charge?”

Hunt rolled his eyes. “My wife, that’s who.” But he pressed, “So … will you? I need someone who can fight. On the ground and in the air.”

“Oh, you’re only asking because I have wings?” Baxian ruffled his black feathers for emphasis.

“I’m asking,” Hunt said, noting the spark of amusement on the Helhound’s face, “because I trust you, asshole. For some weird reason.”

“Asteri dungeon bonding at its finest.” The tone was light, though the shadows of all they’d been through darkened Baxian’s eyes. “But I’m honored. Yeah—you can trust me. Tell me what needs to get done and I’ll do it.”

“Thanks,” Hunt said, and motioned to the exit. “You might regret that in a few minutes … but thanks.”



* * *



“Let me get this straight,” Ruhn said. They had all gathered around a campfire in the middle of an open plain—about the only privacy they could find from spying ears. Just for the Hel of it, Flynn had grown a small grove of oak trees around them. His earth-based magic seemed to be exploding here now, as if the reborn land were calling to him to fill it, adorn it.

But Ruhn fixed his stare on his sister as he said, “We’re going to Nena. To open the Northern Rift.”

Bryce, seated on a large stone with Hunt beside her, said, “I am going to Nena. With Hunt. And my parents—I need Randall’s particular brand of expertise. Baxian will stay here with Cooper until they get back. You are going to take those two buzzards”—she nodded to Flynn and Declan, who glared at her—“and go back to Lunathion.”

Ruhn blinked slowly. “To … die? Because that’s what will happen if we’re caught.”

“To find Isaiah and Naomi. See if they can come join us. Their phones and emails are no doubt tapped—we don’t have any other way to contact them.”

“You want us to go convince two members of Celestina’s triarii to go rogue?” Dec said.

Hunt said, “They won’t need much convincing, but yes. We need them.”

Ruhn shook his head. “If you’re thinking of rallying some sort of angelic host to take on the Asteri, forget it. No angel is going to follow any of us—even Athalar—into battle.”

Bryce held her ground. This was her plan, and there’d be no shaking her or Athalar from it, Ruhn knew. He opened his mouth to keep arguing anyway, but Dec cut him off.

“What about him?” Dec asked, pointing to Baxian. “He’s got a better in with the angels.”

Bryce shook her head. “Baxian will stay here to help coordinate the arriving refugees, and lead in our stead.” Bryce gestured to herself and Hunt.

“We could do that,” Flynn said.

“No,” Bryce said coolly. “You can’t. The Fae are more scared of him, so he’ll be the most effective.”

“Says who?” Flynn demanded. “We’re plenty scary.”

“Says the fact that he, at least, was able to get us the stables to sleep in,” Hunt growled. Baxian waggled his eyebrows at the Fae lord. “The rest of you struck out completely.”

Flynn and Dec scowled. But Ruhn’s breath caught as Bryce looked to Lidia. “I’m not going to presume to give you orders. I know you have an obligation to the Ocean Queen. Do what you must.”

“I go with Ruhn,” Lidia said quietly, and something in his chest sparked at that.

Bryce just nodded, and he didn’t miss the gratitude in his sister’s eyes.

“And me?” Tharion asked at last, brows high.

“I need you to go back to the River Queen,” Bryce said softly. “And convince her to shelter as many people Beneath as possible.”

Tharion paled. “Legs, I’d love to do that, but she’ll kill me.”

“Then find some way to convince her not to,” Athalar said, nothing but pure general as he fixed his stare on the mer. “Use those Captain Whatever skills and figure out something she wants more than killing you.”

Tharion glanced to Sathia, who was watching attentively. “She, uh … won’t be pleased by my new marital status.”

“Then find something,” Hunt said again, “to please her.”

Tharion’s jaw clenched, but Ruhn could see him thinking through his options.

“The Blue Court was the only faction in Crescent City that sheltered people during the attack this spring,” Bryce said. “You guys went out of your way to help innocents get to safety. Appeal to that side of the River Queen. Tell her a storm is coming, and that after what went down in Asphodel Meadows, we need her to take in as many people as the Blue Court can accommodate. If there’s anyone who’s got the charm to sway her, it’s you, Tharion.”

“Ah, Legs,” Tharion said, rubbing his face. “How can I resist when you ask like that?”

Sathia, to Ruhn’s surprise, laid a hand on the mer’s knee and promised Bryce, “We’ll both go.”

“Then she’ll definitely kill Tharion,” Flynn said.

Sathia glared at her brother. “I know a thing or two about dealing with arrogant rulers.” Her chin lifted. “I’m not afraid of the River Queen.” Tharion looked like he might warn her against that, but kept his mouth shut.

“Good,” Bryce said to Sathia. “And thank you.”

“So that’s it, then,” Ruhn said. “Come dawn, we’re scattering to the winds?”

“Come dawn,” Bryce said, and her chest flared with starlight that lit up the entire countryside, “we’re retaliating.”



* * *



Ruhn was still mulling it over—what Bryce wanted to do. Opening the Northern Rift to Hel. She had to be insane … yet he trusted her. And Athalar. They surely had some other sneaky-ass shit up their sleeves, but they’d reveal it when the time was right.

Ruhn tossed and turned on his crunchy, spiky pallet of hay, unable to sleep. Perhaps that was because Lidia lay across from him, staring up at the raftered ceiling.

Her eyes slid over to his, and Ruhn said into her mind, Can’t sleep?

I’m thinking about all the Ophion agents I encountered over the years. I never knew them in person, but the people who helped me organize the strike on the Spine, and worked with me for years before that … they’re all gone now.

It wasn’t your fault.

Asphodel Meadows was aimed at your sister. But butchering Ophion, the people in the camps … that was to punish me. Ophion aided me in your escape, and Rigelus wanted revenge.

Ruhn’s heart ached. We’ll make the Asteri pay for it.