Bryce waited until Huntâs muscled back and beautiful wings had disappeared through the inner sanctumâs gates before she whirled on Ruhn. âDid the Autumn King do it?â
Ruhnâs blue eyes glimmered in his shadow-nest or whatever the fuck he called it. âNo. Heâs a monster in so many ways, but he wouldnât kill Danika.â
Sheâd come to that conclusion the other night, but she asked, âHow can you be so sure? You have no idea what the Hel his long-term agenda is.â
Ruhn crossed his arms. âWhy ask me to hunt for the Horn if heâs summoning the kristallos?â
âTwo trackers are better than one?â Her heart thundered.
âHeâs not behind this. Heâs just trying to take advantage of the situationâto restore the Fae to their former glory. You know how he likes to delude himself with that kind of crap.â
Bryce trailed her fingers through the wall of shadows, the darkness running over her skin like mist. âDoes he know you came to meet with me?â
âNo.â
She held her brotherâs stare. âWhy â¦â She struggled for words. âWhy bother?â
âBecause I want to help you. Because this shit puts the entire city at risk.â
âHow very Chosen One of you.â
Silence stretched between them, so taut it trembled. She blurted, âJust because weâre working together doesnât mean anything changes between us. Youâll find the Horn, and Iâll find whoâs behind this. End of story.â
âFine,â Ruhn said, his eyes cold. âI wouldnât expect you to consider listening to me anyway.â
âWhy would I listen to you?â she seethed. âIâm just a half-breed slut, right?â
Ruhn stiffened, a flush flaring. âYou know it was a dumb fight and I didnât mean thatââ
âYes, you fucking did,â she spat, and turned on her heel. âYou might dress like youâre a punk rebelling against Daddyâs rules, but deep down, youâre no better than the rest of the Fae shitheads who kiss your Chosen One ass.â
Ruhn snarled, but Bryce didnât wait before shoving through the shadows, blinking at the flood of light that greeted her, and aiming for where Hunt had paused at the doors.
âLetâs go,â she said. She didnât care what heâd overheard.
Hunt lingered in place, his black eyes flickering as he gazed toward the shadowed back of the room, where her so-called cousin was again veiled in darkness. But the angel thankfully said nothing as he fell into step beside her, and she said nothing more to him.
Bryce practically ran back to the gallery. In part to start researching the Horn again, but also thanks to the flurry of messages from Jesiba, demanding to know where she was, whether she still wanted her job, and whether sheâd prefer to be turned into a rat or a pigeon. And then an order to get back now to greet a client.
Five minutes after Bryce got there, Jesibaâs clientâa raging asshole of a leopard shifter who believed he was entitled to put his paws all over her assâprowled in and purchased a small statue of Solas and Cthona, portrayed as a sun with male features burying his face in a pair of mountain-shaped breasts. The holy image was known simply as the Embrace. Her mother even wore its simplified symbolâa circle nestled atop two trianglesâas a silver pendant. But Bryce had always found the Embrace cheesy and cliché in every incarnation. Thirty minutes and two blatant rejections to his slimy come-ons later, Bryce was mercifully alone again.
But in the hours she looked, the galleryâs databases for Lunaâs Horn revealed nothing beyond what she already knew, and what her brother had claimed that morning. Even Lehabah, gossip queen extraordinaire, didnât know anything about the Horn.
With Ruhn heading back to the Fae Archives to see if any more information appealed to his Starborn sensibilities, she supposed sheâd have to wait for an update.
Hunt had gone to take watch on the roof, apparently needing to make calls to his bossâor whatever Micah pretended he wasâand Isaiah regarding the Horn. He hadnât tried to come back down to the library, as if sensing she needed space.
Look toward where it hurts the most. Thatâs always where the answers are.
Bryce found herself staring down at the half-finished list sheâd started that morning.
She might not be able to find much on the Horn itself, but maybe she could figure out how the Hel Danika factored into all of it.
Hands shaking, she made herself finish the list of Danikaâs locationsâas far as she knew.
By the time the sun was near setting, and Syrinx was ready to be walked home, Bryce would have traded what was left of her soul to a Reaper just for the quiet comfort of her bed. It had been a long fucking day, full of information she needed to process, and a list that sheâd left in her desk drawer.
It must have been a long day for Athalar, too, because he trailed her and Syrinx from the skies without saying a word to her.
She was in bed by eight, and didnât even remember falling asleep.