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

That hope was dead. His father was a spineless fucking coward.

Ruhn, Lidia said, and he hated the sound of his name on her lips. He hated her. He turned on his side, putting his back to her.

I understand why you’re angry, why you must hate me, she began hoarsely. Ruhn, the … the things I’ve done … I need you to understand why I did them. Why I’ll keep doing them.

Save your sob story for someone who gives a shit.

Ruhn, please.

The raft groaned, and he knew she was reaching for him again. But he couldn’t bear that touch, the pleading in her voice, the emotion that no one else in the world but him had ever heard from the Hind.

So Ruhn said, Fuck your excuses. And rolled off that mental raft to let the sea of pain drown him.





5


Ithan’s heart stalled as Sabine smiled savagely, advancing toward the warehouse’s side door. The alley behind her was empty—no witnesses. Exactly what Ithan and all those who served under Sabine had been trained to ensure.

Sigrid backed up a step, right into Declan. The sprites clung to her neck, yellow flames trembling.

“I knew my brother let me find him and your sister too easily,” Sabine snarled, eyes fixed wholly on Sigrid, as if the two Fae warriors with guns pointed at her head were nothing. “I knew he lied about how many pups he had.”

Sigrid halted her retreat. Ithan didn’t dare take his eyes off Sabine to read her face.

“All that effort—for you?” Sabine surveyed her curving claws. “I promise to make this quick, at least. It’s more than I can say for your sister. Poor pup.”

“Leave her alone,” Ithan snarled, balancing on the balls of his feet, readying to leap for Sabine. To make this final, disastrous stand.

Sabine laughed humorlessly, acknowledging his existence at last. “Some guard, Holstrom.”

“You have two fucking seconds, Sabine, to get lost,” Declan said.

Sabine’s smile crinkled her nose—sheer lupine fury. “You’ll need more than bullets to down me, Faeling.” Ithan had told Flynn that Sabine wasn’t dumb enough to start shit on the Viper Queen’s turf, but at the sight of the Prime Apparent’s hateful expression, he wondered if her rage and fear had overridden any scrap of common sense.

He unsheathed his claws. “How about these?” He snarled again. “You’re dead fucking meat when we tell the authorities about this.”

Sabine’s smile became icy cold. “Who will you tell? Celestina won’t care. And the Autumn King wants a clean slate for the Valbaran Fae. He’ll have nothing to do with this.”

A low, thunderous growl rattled from behind Ithan.

The hair on his arms rose. It was a growl of pure challenge. One he’d heard from Danika. From Connor. The challenge of a wolf who wouldn’t back down.

Sabine glanced to Sigrid in surprise.

“I went into the tank for my sister,” Sigrid rasped, agony and rage contorting her face. “To keep her fed. To keep her safe. And you killed her.” Her voice rose, full of command that had the wolf in him sitting up, readying to strike at her signal. “I’ll rip out your throat, you soulless thief. I’m going to piss on your rotting corpse—”

Sabine leapt.

Declan fired his gun at the same time Flynn unleashed a second, blasting shot.

Sigrid dropped to her knees, claws scratching at her face as she shielded her ears against the noise. Flynn advanced, gun at the ready, firing again at the downed wolf leaking blood onto the grimy alley pavement.

Dec’s shot had been for Sabine’s knee—to incapacitate her. But Flynn had blasted Sabine’s face clean off.

“Hurry,” Flynn said, grabbing Sigrid’s arm. The trembling sprites leapt onto his shoulders. “We have to get to the river—we’ll grab one of the boats.”

Yet Ithan could only stare at Sabine’s body, the blood and gore splattered around the alley. She would no doubt heal from this wound, but not soon enough to stop them from leaving.

Every muscle in his body locked up. As if screaming, Help her! Protect and save your Alpha! Even if something in his gut whispered, Rip her to pieces.

The others began running for the alley, but Ithan didn’t move.

“Stop,” he said. They didn’t hear him. “Stop!” His shout echoed over stone and corpse and blood—and they halted within steps of the alley exit.

“What?” Marc said, his cat’s eyes gleaming in the dimness.

“The other wolves … they went quiet.” The howls that had been closing in behind them had stopped entirely.

“Glad someone finally noticed,” drawled a female voice from the end of the alley.

The Viper Queen lounged against a filthy wall, cigarette smoldering between her fingers, her white jumpsuit glowing like the moon in the flickering firstlight from the lampposts. Her eyes dropped to Sabine’s body. Her purple-painted lips curved upward as her gaze lifted to Ithan’s.

“Bad dog,” she purred.



* * *



“This is a most unorthodox request, Lidia.”

Lidia kept her chin high, hands tucked behind her back as she walked with clipped precision along the crystal hallway. The perfect imperial soldier. “Yes, but I believe Irithys might be … motivating for Athalar.”

Rigelus kept pace beside her, graceful despite his long, gangly legs. The teenage Fae body masked the immortal monster beneath.

As they began to descend a winding staircase, lit only by firstlights guttering in tiny alcoves, Rigelus sniffed, “She is mostly cooperative, but she might balk at the order.”

Now a step behind him, Lidia fixed her gaze on his scrawny neck. It would be so easy, were he any other being, to wrap her hands around it and twist. She could almost feel the echo of his crunching bones reverberating against her palms.

“Irithys will do what she’s told,” Lidia said as they descended into the gloom.

Rigelus said nothing more as they wound around and around, into the earth beneath the Eternal Palace. Even deeper than the dungeons where Ruhn and the others were kept. Most believed this place little more than myth.

Rigelus at last halted before a metal door. Lead—six inches thick.

Lidia had been here only once over her time with the Asteri. Accompanied by Rigelus then as well, along with her father.

A private tour of the palace, given by the Bright Hand himself to one of his most loyal subjects—and one of his wealthiest. And Lidia, young and still brimming with hate and disdain for the world, had been all too willing to join them.

She became that person again as Rigelus laid a hand on the door. The lead glowed, and then the door swung open.

The oppressive heat and humidity of this place hadn’t changed since that first visit. As Lidia stepped inside after Rigelus, it once again pushed with damp fingers on her face, her neck.

The hall stretched ahead, the one thousand sunken tubs in the stone floor shining with pale light that illuminated the bodies floating within. Masks and tubes and machines hummed and hissed; salt crusted the stones between the tanks, some sections piled thick with it. And before the machines, already bowing at the waist to Rigelus …

A withered humanoid form, veiled and dressed in gray robes, the material gauzy enough to reveal the bony body beneath, stood at the massive desk at the entrance of the room. The Mistress of the Mystics. If she had a name, Lidia had never heard it uttered.

Above her veiled head, a hologram of images spun, stars and planets whizzing by. Every constellation and galaxy the mystics now searched for Bryce Quinlan. How many corners of the universe remained?

That wasn’t Lidia’s concern—not today. Not as Rigelus said, “I have need of Irithys.”

The mistress lifted her head, but her body remained stooped with age, so thin the knobs of her spine jutted from beneath her gauzy robe. “The queen has been sullen, Your Brilliance. I fear she will not be amenable to your requests.”

Rigelus only gestured to the hall, bored. “We shall try, nonetheless.”