Ruhn paced in front of Bryce’s TV, his phone at his ear. The tattoos on his forearms shifted as he clenched the phone tight. But his voice was calm, heavy, as he said, “All right, thanks for looking, Dec.”

Bryce watched Ruhn’s face as her brother hung up, and knew exactly what he was going to say. “No luck?”

Ruhn slumped back against her couch cushions. “No. What we saw on Sofie’s arm doesn’t come up anywhere.”

Bryce nestled into Hunt on the other end of the couch while the angel talked to Isaiah on the phone. Upon arriving back in Lunathion courtesy of a few Blue Court wave skimmers, Tharion had gone Beneath to see his queen. It was unlikely that the River Queen would know what the numbers and letters carved onto Sofie’s biceps meant, but it was worth a shot.

Cormac had found thirty messages from his father waiting for him, asking after his whereabouts, so he’d gone off to the Autumn King’s villa to convince the male—and therefore his father—that he’d been accompanying Bryce to Nidaros.

Bryce supposed she should clue her parents in about the official cover story, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do it. She needed to settle— calm her racing mind—a bit first.

Frankly, it was a miracle the Hind and her dreadwolves hadn’t been waiting at the apartment. That the news wasn’t broadcasting all of their faces with a REBEL TRAITORS banner slapped beneath it. But a skim of the news while Ruhn had talked to Dec showed nothing.

So she’d spent the last few minutes trying hard to teleport from the couch to the kitchen.

Nothing. How had she done it during sex? She wasn’t due for her lesson with Ruhn and Cormac until tomorrow, but she wanted to show up with some idea.

Bryce concentrated on the kitchen stools. I am here. I want to go there. Her magic didn’t so much as budge. Two points in space. I’m folding a piece of paper, joining them. My power is the pencil that punctures through the paper, linking them—

Hunt said, “Yeah. Ember grilled me, but we’re good. We had a nice time.” He winked at Bryce, even though the casual gesture didn’t quite light his eyes. “All right. I’ll see you at the meeting later.” Hunt hung up the phone and sighed. “Unless they’ve got a dagger digging into his back, it seems like Isaiah has no clue about what went down at Ydra. Or that the Hind saw any of us.”

“What game is she playing?” Ruhn said, toying with his lip ring. “You really think Isaiah wasn’t playing it cool to lure you to the Comitium later?” “If they wanted to arrest us, they’d have been waiting for us,” Hunt

said. “The Hind is keeping this to herself.”

“But why?” Bryce asked, frowning deeply. “To mess with our minds?” “Honestly?” Hunt said. “That’s a distinct possibility. But if you ask me,

I think she knows we’re … up to something. I think she wants to see what we do next.”

Bryce considered. “We’ve been so focused on Emile and Ophion and the demons that we’ve forgotten one key thing: Sofie died knowing vital intel. The Hind knew that—was afraid enough of it that she killed her to make sure the intel died with Sofie. And if it didn’t take much for Tharion to piece together that Sofie and Danika knew each other and come to us, I bet the Hind has figured that out, too. She has hackers who could have found the same emails between them.”

Hunt’s wing brushed her shoulder, curving around her. “But how does it even tie to Danika? Sofie didn’t get the intel until two years after Danika died.”

“No idea,” Bryce said, leaning her head against Hunt’s shoulder. A casual, steadying sort of intimacy.

The sex on the ship had been life-altering. Soul-altering. Just … altering. She couldn’t wait to have him again.

But she cleared the thought from her head as Ruhn asked, “Any chance this somehow ties into Danika researching that Fendyr lineage?” Her brother rubbed his temples. “Though I don’t see how anything about that would be war-changing intel worth killing to hide.”

“Me neither,” Bryce said, sighing. She’d slept last night curled beside Hunt in their bunk, limbs and wings and breath mingling, but she was still exhausted. From the shadows under Hunt’s eyes, she knew the same weariness weighed on him.

A knock sounded on her door, and Ruhn rose to get it. Hunt’s hand tangled in her hair, and he tugged on the strands, getting Bryce to look up at him. He kissed her nose, her chin, her mouth.

“I might be tired,” he said, as if he’d sensed her thoughts, “but I’m ready for round two when you are.”

Her blood heated. “Good,” she murmured back. “I’d hate for you to be unable to keep up in your old age.”

They were interrupted by Ruhn standing over them. “Sorry to break up the lovefest, but the Helhound’s outside.”

Baxian gave them no time to prepare as he burst in after Ruhn, black wings splaying slightly. “How the fuck did you call that ship?”

“What are you doing here?” Hunt asked quietly.

Baxian blinked. “Making sure you’re all still in one piece.” “Why?” Ruhn asked.

“Because I want in.” Baxian helped himself to a stool at the counter. Bryce coughed, but said innocently, “On what?”

The Helhound threw her a dry look. “On whatever it was that had you all going to meet with Ophion, then blasting their shit to Hel.”

Bryce said smoothly, “We thought to cut off Ophion before they could ruin Valbara’s peace.”

Baxian snorted. “Yeah, sure. Without backup, without alerting anyone.” “There are rebel sympathizers in the 33rd,” Hunt said firmly. “We

couldn’t risk tipping them off.”

“I know,” Baxian replied with equal cool. “I’m one of them.”

Bryce stared at the shifter and said as calmly as she could, “You realize we could go right to Celestina with this. You’d be crucified before nightfall.”

“I want you to tell me what’s going on,” Baxian countered.

“I already told you. And you just royally fucked yourself over,” Bryce said.

“If they start asking questions about how you know I’m a sympathizer, you think anyone’s going to buy your bullshit about going there to save Valbara from the big bad human rebels? Especially when you lied to Celestina about going to your parents’ house?” Baxian laughed. Hunt had gone so still that Bryce knew he was a breath away from killing the male, even though no lightning zapped around him. “The Asteri will let the Hind start on you right away, and we’ll see how long those lies hold up under her ministrations.”

“Why isn’t the Hind here yet?” Bryce asked. She’d confirm nothing.

“Not her style,” Baxian said. “She wants to give you enough rope to hang yourself.”

“And Ydra wasn’t enough?” Ruhn blurted.

Bryce glared at him. Her brother ignored it, his lethal attention on Baxian.

“If I were to guess, I’d say that she thinks you’ll lead her toward whatever it is she wants.”

Ruhn growled, “What do you want?”

Baxian leaned back against the counter. “I told you: I want in.” “No,” Hunt said.

“Did I not warn your asses yesterday?” Baxian said. “Did I not back you up when Sabine came raging in here? Have I said anything to anyone about it since then?”

“The Hind plays games that span years,” Hunt countered with soft menace. “Who knows what you’re planning with her? But we’re not rebels anyway, so there’s nothing for you to join.”

Baxian laughed—without joy, without any sort of amusement—and hopped off the stool. Aimed right for the front door. “When you fools want actual answers, come find me.” The door slammed behind him.

In the silence that fell in his wake, Bryce closed her eyes.

“So … we play casual,” Ruhn said. “Figure out how to outsmart the Hind.”

Hunt grunted, not sounding convinced. That made two of them.

A buzz sounded, and Bryce opened her eyes to see Ruhn scanning his phone. “Flynn needs me back at the house. Call me if you hear anything.”

“Be careful,” Hunt warned him, but her brother just patted the hilt of the Starsword before striding out. As if the blade would do anything against the Hind.

Alone in their apartment, truly alone at last, Bryce waggled her brows at Hunt. “Want to take our minds off everything with a little tumble in the sheets?”

Hunt chuckled, leaning to brush a kiss on her mouth. He paused millimeters from her lips, close enough that she could feel his smile as he said, “How about you tell me what the fuck you know about Emile?”

Bryce pulled back. “Nothing.”

His eyes blazed. “Oh? Spetsos practically blabbed it, didn’t she? With her talk about snakes.” Lightning shimmered along his wings. “Are you fucking insane? Sending that kid to the Viper Queen?”