Bryce leaned against the alley side of a brick building bordering the Black Dock, arms crossed and face stony. Hunt, gods bless him, stood at her side, mirroring her position. He’d come right over the moment she’d called him, sensing that her eerily calm voice meant something big had gone down.
She’d only managed to say something vague about Reapers before they’d found Cormac here, prowling for any hint of Emile.
Cormac lounged against the wall across the alley, focus on the quay beyond. Not even the vendors selling touristy crap came here. “Well?” the Avallen Prince asked, not taking his attention from the Black Dock.
“You can teleport,” Bryce said, voice low. That made Hunt’s eyes widen. He kept himself contained, though, solid and still as a statue, wings tucked in—but brimming with power. One blink, and Hunt would unleash lightning on the prince.
“What of it?” Cormac asked with no small hint of haughtiness.
“What did you do to the Reapers you teleported out?”
“Put them about half a mile up in the sky.” The Avallen Prince smiled darkly. “They weren’t happy.”
Hunt’s brows rose. But Bryce asked, “You can go that far? It’s that precise?”
“I need to know the spot. If it’s a trickier location—indoors, or a specific room—I need exact coordinates,” Cormac said. “My accuracy is within two feet.”
Well, that explained how he’d shown up at Ruhn’s house party. Dec’s tech had picked up Cormac teleporting around the house’s perimeter to calculate where he wanted to appear to make his grand entrance. Once he’d had them, he’d simply walked right out of a shadow in the doorway.
Hunt pointed to a dumpster halfway down the alley. “Teleport there.”
Cormac bowed mockingly. “Left side or right side?”
Hunt leveled a cool stare at him. “Left,” he challenged. Bryce suppressed a smile.
But Cormac bowed at the waist again—and vanished.
Within a blink, he reappeared where Hunt had indicated.
“Well, fuck,” Hunt muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, Cormac reappeared before them, right where he’d been standing.
Bryce pushed off the wall. “How the Hel do you do that?”
Cormac slicked back his blond hair. “You have to picture where you want to go. Then simply allow yourself to take that step. As if you’re folding two points on a piece of paper so that the two points can meet.”
“Like a wormhole,” Hunt mused, wings rustling.
Cormac waved a dismissive hand. “Wormhole, teleportation, yes. Whatever you want to call it.”
Bryce blew out an impressed breath. But it didn’t explain— “How’d you know where to find me and Ruhn?”
“I was on my way to meet you, remember?” Cormac rolled his eyes, as if she should have figured it out by now. Asshole. “I saw you run into the sewer, and I did some mental calculations for the jump. Thankfully, they were right.”
Hunt let out an approving grunt, but said nothing.
So Bryce said, “You’re going to teach me how to do that. Teleport.”
Hunt whipped his head to her. But Cormac simply nodded. “If it’s within your wheelhouse, I will.”
Hunt blurted, “I’m sorry, but Fae can just do this shit?”
“I can do this shit,” Cormac countered. “If Bryce has as much Starborn ability as she seems to, she might also be able to do this shit.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the Super Powerful and Special Magic Starborn Princess,” Bryce answered, waggling her eyebrows.
Cormac said, “You should treat your title and gifts with the reverence they are due.”
“You sound like a Reaper,” she said, and leaned against Hunt. He tucked her into his side. Her clothes were still soaked. And smelled atrocious.
But Hunt didn’t so much as sniff as he asked Cormac, “Where did you inherit the ability from?”
Cormac squared his shoulders, every inch the proud prince as he said, “It was once a gift of the Starborn. It was the reason I became so … focused on attaining the Starsword. I thought my ability to teleport meant that the bloodline had resurfaced in me, as I’ve never met anyone else who can do it.” His eyes guttered as he added, “As you know, I was wrong. Some Starborn blood, apparently, but not enough to be worthy of the blade.”
Bryce wasn’t going to touch that one. So she retied her wet hair into a tight bun atop her head. “What are the odds that I have the gift, too?”
Cormac gave her a slashing smile. “Only one way to find out.”
Bryce’s eyes glowed with the challenge. “It would be handy.”
Hunt murmured, his voice awed, “It would make you unstoppable.”
Bryce winked at Hunt. “Hel yeah, it would. Especially if those Reapers weren’t full of shit about the Prince of the Pit sending them to challenge me to some epic battlefield duel. Worthy opponent, my ass.”
“You don’t believe the Prince of the Pit sent them?” Cormac asked.
“I don’t know what I believe,” Bryce admitted. “But we need to confirm where those Reapers came from—who sent them—before we make any moves.”
“Fair enough,” Hunt said.
Bryce went on, “Beyond that, this is twice now that we’ve gotten warnings about Hel’s armies being ready. Apollion’s a little heavy-handed for my tastes, but I guess he really wants to get the point across. And wants me leveled up by the time all Hel breaks loose. Literally, I guess.”
Bryce knew there was no fucking way she’d ever stand against the Star-Eater and live, not if she didn’t expand her understanding of her power. Apollion had killed a fucking Asteri, for gods’ sakes. He’d obliterate her.
She said to Cormac, “Tomorrow night. You. Me. Training center. We’ll try out this teleporting thing.”
“Fine,” the prince said.
Bryce picked lingering dirt from beneath her nails and sighed. “I could have lived without Hel getting mixed up in this. Without Apollion apparently wanting in on Sofie’s and Emile’s powers.”
“Their powers,” Cormac said, face thunderous, “are a gift and a curse. I’m not surprised at all that so many people want them.”
Hunt frowned. “And you really think you’re going to find Emile just hanging around here?”
The prince glowered at the angel. “I don’t see you combing the docks for him.”
“No need,” Hunt drawled. “We’re going to search for him without lifting a finger.”
Cormac sneered, “Using your lightning to survey the city?”
Hunt didn’t fall for the taunt. “No. Using Declan Emmett.”
Leaving the males to their posturing, Bryce pulled out her phone and dialed. Jesiba answered on the second ring. “What?”
Bryce smiled. Hunt half turned toward her at the sound of the sorceress’s voice. “Got any Death Marks lying around?”
Hunt hissed, “You can’t be serious.”
Bryce ignored him as Jesiba answered, “I might. Plan on taking a trip, Quinlan?”
“I hear the Bone Quarter’s gorgeous this time of year.”
Jesiba chuckled, a rolling, sultry sound. “You do amuse me every now and then.” Pause. “You have to pay for this one, you know.”
“Send the bill to my brother.” Ruhn would have a conniption, but he could deal.
Another soft chuckle. “I only have two. And it’ll take until tomorrow morning for them to reach you.”
“Fine. Thanks.”
The sorceress said a shade gently, “You won’t find any traces of Danika left in the Bone Quarter, you know.”
Bryce tensed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I thought you were finally going to start asking questions about her.”
Bryce clenched the phone hard enough for the plastic to groan. “What sort of questions?” What the fuck did Jesiba know?
A low laugh. “Why don’t you start by wondering why she was always poking around the gallery?”
“To see me,” Bryce said through her teeth.
“Sure,” Jesiba said, and hung up.
Bryce swallowed hard and pocketed her phone.
Hunt was slowly shaking his head. “We’re not going to the Bone Quarter.”
“I agree,” Cormac grumbled.
“You’re not going at all,” she said sweetly to Cormac. “We’ll only have two fares, and Athalar is my plus-one.” The prince bristled, but Bryce turned to Hunt. “When the coins arrive tomorrow, I want to be ready—have as much information as possible about where those Reapers came from.”
Hunt folded his wings behind him, feathers rustling. “Why?”
“So the Under-King and I can have an informed heart-to-heart.”
“What was that shit Jesiba said about Danika?” Hunt asked warily.
Bryce’s mouth hardened into a thin line. Jesiba did and said nothing without reason. And while she knew she’d never get answers out of her old boss, at least this nudge was something to go on. “Turns out we’re going to have to ask Declan for an additional favor.”
That night, still reeling from the events of the day, Ruhn flipped through the channels on the TV until he found the sunball game, then set down the remote and swigged from his beer.
On the other end of the sectional couch in Bryce’s apartment, Ithan Holstrom sat hunched over a laptop, Declan beside him with a laptop of his own. Bryce and Hunt stood behind the two, staring over their shoulders, the latter’s face stormy.
Ruhn had told none of them, especially Bryce, about the conversation with his father.
Ithan typed away, then said, “I’m super rusty at this.”
Dec said without breaking his attention from the computer, “If you took Kirfner’s Intro to Systems and Matrices, you’ll be fine.”
Ruhn often forgot that Dec was friendly with people other than him and Flynn. While none of them had attended college, Dec had struck up a years-long friendship with the ornery CCU computer science professor, often consulting the satyr on some of his hacking ventures.
“He gave me a B minus in that class,” Ithan muttered.
“From what he tells me, that’s practically an A plus,” Declan said.
“Okay, okay,” Bryce said, “any idea how long this is going to take?”
Declan threw her an exasperated look. “You’re asking us to do two things at once, and neither is easy, so … a while?”
She scowled. “How many cameras are even at the Black Dock?”
“A lot,” Declan said, going back to his computer. He glanced to Holstrom’s laptop. “Click that.” He pointed to a mark on the screen that Ruhn couldn’t see. “Now type this code in to identify the footage featuring Reapers.”
How Dec managed to direct Ithan to comb through the footage around the Black Dock from earlier today while also creating a program to search through years of video footage of Danika at the gallery was beyond Ruhn.
“It’s insane that you made this,” Ithan said with no small bit of admiration.
“All in a day’s work,” Dec replied, typing away. Pulling any footage from the gallery featuring Danika could take days, he’d said. But at least the footage from the Black Dock would only take minutes.
Ruhn carefully asked Bryce, “You sure you trust Jesiba enough to follow this lead? Or at all?”
“Jesiba literally has a collection of books that could get her killed,” Bryce said tartly. “I trust that she knows how to stay out of … dangerous entanglements. And wouldn’t shove me into one, either.”
“Why not tell you to look at the footage during the investigation this spring?” Hunt asked.
“I don’t know. But Jesiba must have had a good reason.”
“She scares me,” Ithan said, gaze fixed on the computer.
“She’ll be happy to hear that,” Bryce said, but her face was tight.
What’s up? Ruhn asked her mind-to-mind.
Bryce frowned. You want the honest answer?
Yeah.
She tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. I don’t know how much more of this “Surprise! Danika had a big secret!” stuff I can take. It feels like … I don’t even know. It feels like I never really knew her.
She loved you, Bryce. That’s not in doubt.
Yeah, I know. But did Danika know about the Parthos books—or the other contraband tomes—in the gallery? Jesiba made it sound like she did. Like she took a special interest in them.
You guys never talked about it?
Never. But Jesiba was always monitoring those cameras, so … maybe she saw something. Danika was down there without me plenty of times. Though Lehabah was usually there, too.
Ruhn noted the pain that filled his sister’s face at the fire sprite’s name.
We’ll figure it out, Ruhn offered, and Bryce gave him a thankful smile in return.
“Don’t forget to keep an eye out for Emile around the docks,” Bryce said to Ithan. Cormac had turned down the invitation to join them here—he’d said he wanted to continue hunting for Emile on the ground.
“I already added it to the program,” Declan said. “It’ll flag any Reaper or any person whose facial features and build match the kid’s.” Dec had managed to pull a still from the security footage in the town of Servast the night Emile and Sofie had separated.
Ruhn again considered his sister, who was peering over Declan’s shoulder with an intensity he recognized. She wouldn’t let go of any of this.
Would she be able to teleport? She’d told him that Cormac had agreed to try to teach her. And wouldn’t that be something for the Autumn King to chew on—Bryce plus teleporting plus Starborn power plus Starsword with crazy killing abilities plus Bryce magically outranking their father equaled …
Ruhn kept his face neutral, tucking away thoughts of what a leveled-up Bryce might mean for the Fae.
Ithan finished typing in the code, and said without looking up, “Hilene is going to win this one.”
Ruhn checked the sunball game just beginning its first period. “I thought Ionia was favored.”
Ithan stretched out his long legs, propping his bare feet on a cushioned stool Bryce had dragged over from the windows to be a temporary replacement for the coffee table. “Jason Regez has been off the last two games. I played with him at CCU—I can tell when he starts to get in a funk. He’ll fuck it up for Ionia.”
Ruhn eyed Ithan. A few years off the sunball field hadn’t gotten rid of the muscles on the male. He’d somehow gotten even bigger since then.
“I hate Ionia anyway,” Dec said. “They’re all swaggering assholes.”
“Pretty much.” Ithan typed in the next line of code that Declan fed him.
Bryce yawned audibly. “Can’t we watch Veiled Love?”
“No,” everyone answered.
Bryce elbowed Hunt. “I thought we were a team.”
Hunt snorted. “Sunball always trumps reality shows.”
“Traitor.”
Ithan snickered. “I remember a time when you knew all the players on the CCU team and their stats, Bryce.”
“If you think that was because I was remotely interested in the actual sunball playing, you’re delusional.”
Hunt laughed, some of the tightness on the angel’s face lightening, and Ruhn smiled, despite the old ache in his heart. He’d missed out on those years with Bryce. They hadn’t been speaking then. Those had been formative, pivotal years. He should have been there.
Ithan flipped Bryce off, but said to Declan, “Okay, I’m in.”
Bryce scanned the screen. “Do you see any Reapers crossing in boats?”
“This is showing nothing landing at the Black Dock at all today. Or last night.”
Athalar asked, “When’s the last time any Reaper docked?”
Ithan kept typing, and they all waited, the only additional sound the swift clack of Declan’s fingers on the keys of his computer. The wolf said, “Yesterday morning.” He grimaced. “These two look familiar?”
Bryce and Ruhn scanned the image Ithan had pulled up. Ruhn had no idea why the fuck he bothered, since he’d been unconscious, but a shiver went down his spine at the sagging, graying faces, the crepe-like skin so at odds with the jagged, sharp teeth that gleamed as the Reapers stepped from the boat. Both had pulled back their veils during the trip across the Istros, but tugged them over their faces as they stepped onto the Black Dock and drifted into the city.
Bryce said hoarsely, “No. Gods, they’re awful. But no—those weren’t the ones who attacked.”
“They might have been hiding out for a few days,” Athalar said. “The Prince of the Pit only threatened us the other night, but he might have had them in place already.”
Ruhn had no idea how the angel spoke so calmly. If the Star-Eater had come to him and wanted to have a one-on-one chat, he’d still be shitting his pants.
“I’m not seeing any kids lurking around the Black Dock, either,” Ithan muttered, scanning the results. He twisted to Bryce. “No sign of Emile at all.”
Ruhn asked, “Possible the kid took another way over? Maybe Danika found some sort of back door into the Bone Quarter.”
“Not possible,” Athalar said. “Only one way in, one way out.”
Ruhn bristled. “That’s what we’ve been taught, but has anyone ever tried to get in some other way?”
Athalar snorted. “Why would they want to?”
Ruhn glared at the angel but said, “Fair enough.”
Ithan stopped on an image. “What about this one? He didn’t take a boat over, just appeared from within the city—”
“That’s the one,” Bryce hissed, her face paling.
They all studied the still—the Reaper was half-turned to the camera as it entered the frame from a street near the Black Dock. He was taller than the others, but had the same grayish, soft face and those terrifying teeth.
Athalar whistled. “You sure know how to pick them, Quinlan.”
She scowled at the angel, but asked Dec, “Where’s it coming from? Can you add its face to the program and run a search on the city’s footage?”
Declan’s brows rose. “You know how long that will take? Every camera in Lunathion? It’s why we’re not even doing it for Emile. It’d take … I can’t even calculate how long we’d need.”
“Okay, okay,” Bryce said. “But can we … track this one for a while?” She directed the last bit at Ithan, but the wolf shook his head.
“There must be a logical reason for this—like a gap in the camera coverage or something—but that Reaper just seems to … appear.”
“Micah had the kristallos stay in known camera gaps,” Hunt said darkly. “These Reapers could know about them, too.”
Ithan pointed to the screen. “Right here is where they first appear. Before that, nothing.”
Ruhn pulled up a map of the city in his Aux app. “There should be a sewer entrance right behind them. Possible they came out of there?”
Ithan moved the footage around. “The cameras don’t cover that sewer entrance.”
Bryce said, “So they probably knew it’d be a good entry point. And it’d make sense, given that they dragged us into the sewers.” Where there were no cameras at all.
“Let me look around a little more,” Ithan offered, and clicked away.
Athalar asked none of them in particular, “You think they were waiting for you, or for Emile?”
“Or both?” Ruhn asked. “Clearly, they wanted to stay hidden.”
“But did the Prince of the Pit send them, or did the Under-King?” Athalar pushed.
“Good thing we’ve got a date with the being who can answer that,” Bryce said.
Ruhn winced. He’d paid for the Death Marks that Jesiba had promised, but he wasn’t happy about it. The thought of Bryce confronting the Under-King scared the Hel out of him.
“We need a plan for how we question him,” Athalar warned her. “I doubt he’ll appreciate being questioned at all.”
“Hence the research,” Bryce shot back, gesturing to the computer. “You think I’m stupid enough to go in and fling accusations around? If we can confirm whether or not those Reapers came directly from the Bone Quarter, we’ll have steadier footing when we question him. And if we can get any hint of Emile actually going over to the Bone Quarter, then we’ll have a good reason to ask him about that, too.”
Ithan added, “Considering what Tharion thinks Pippa Spetsos has done while hunting for Emile, I’m half hoping the kid’s already in the Bone Quarter.” He dragged a hand through his short brown hair. “What she did to that selkie we found this morning was no joke.”
The wolf had filled them all in on the work he’d done with Tharion earlier—the tortured body they suspected had been left behind by the rebel fanatic.
Bryce pivoted and began pacing. Syrinx trotted at her heels, whining for a second dinner. Ruhn refrained from remarking on how similar the motion was to one he’d seen their father do so many times in his study. Unable to stand it, he turned back to the sunball game.
Then Ithan said to Ruhn, picking up the thread of conversation from earlier, “See? Regez should have nailed that shot, but he balked. He’s second-guessing himself. He’s too deep in his head.”
Ruhn glanced sidelong at the male. “You’ve never thought about playing again?”
A muscle ticked in Ithan’s jaw. “No.”
“You miss it?”
“No.”
It was an obvious lie. Ruhn didn’t fail to note that Bryce’s eyes had softened.
But Ithan didn’t so much as look in her direction. So Ruhn nodded to the wolf. “If you ever want to play a pickup game, me, Dec, and Flynn usually play with some of the Aux in Oleander Park over in Moonwood on Sundays.”
“Where’s my invite?” Bryce asked, scowling.
But Ithan said roughly, “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
Hunt asked, “I’m assuming I don’t get an invite, either, Danaan?”
Ruhn snorted at the angel. “You want an excuse for me to beat the shit out of you, Athalar, then I’m down.”
Athalar smirked, but his gaze drifted to Bryce, who was now staring over Declan’s shoulder at the lightning-fast footage zooming by on his laptop. Footage of Danika from years ago.
She straightened suddenly. Cleared her throat. “I’m going down to the gym. Call me if you find anything.” She aimed for her bedroom, presumably to change. Ruhn watched Hunt glance between her disappearing form and the sunball game. Weighing which one to follow.
It took Athalar all of thirty seconds to decide. He ducked into his room, saying he was going to change for the gym.
When Ruhn was alone with Dec and Ithan, his beer half-finished, Ithan said, “Connor would have picked the game.”
Ruhn raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize it was a competition between them.” Between a dead male and a living one.
Ithan just typed away, eyes darting over the screen.
And for some reason, Ruhn dared ask, “What would you have picked?”
Ithan didn’t hesitate. “Bryce.”
