House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1) by Sarah J. Maas

“A library.”

“An antiquities gallery, dumbass.” A page loaded, full of images of ancient vases and amphorae, mosaics, and statues. She’d typed demon + Fae into the search bar. Bryce slid the laptop to Hunt. “Maybe we can find the kristallos in ancient art.”

Hunt grumbled, but Ruhn noted the impressed gleam in his eyes before he began scanning through the pages of results.

“I’ve never met a prince before,” Lehabah sighed from the couch.

“They’re overrated,” Ruhn said over a shoulder.

Athalar grunted his agreement.

“What is it like,” the sprite asked, propping her fiery head on a burning fist, “to be the Chosen One?”

“Boring,” Ruhn admitted. “Beyond the sword and some party tricks, there’s not much to it.”

“Can I see the Starsword?”

“I left it at home. I didn’t feel like having to deal with tourists stopping me on every block, wanting to take pictures.”

“Poor little prince,” Bryce cooed.

Hunt grunted his agreement again, and Ruhn bit out, “You got something to say, Athalar?”

The angel’s eyes lifted from the laptop. “She said it all.”

Ruhn snarled, but Bryce asked, surveying them, “What’s the deal with you two?”

“Oh, do tell,” Lehabah pleaded, pausing her show to perk up on the couch.

Hunt went back to perusing the results. “We beat the shit out of each other at a party. Danaan’s still sore about it.”

Bryce’s grin was the definition of shit-eating. “Why’d you fight?”

Ruhn snapped, “Because he’s an arrogant asshole.”

“Likewise,” Hunt said, mouth curling in a half smile.

Bryce threw Lehabah a knowing look. “Boys and their pissing contests.”

Lehabah made a prim little sound. “Not nearly as advanced as us ladies.”

Ruhn rolled his eyes, surprised to find Athalar doing the same.

Bryce gestured to the endless shelves that filled the library. “Well, cousin,” she said, “have at it. Let your Starborn powers guide you to enlightenment.”

“Funny,” he said, but began walking toward the shelves, scanning the titles. He paused at the various tanks and terrariums built into the bookcases, the small animals within wholly uninterested in his presence. He didn’t dare ask if the rumors about them were true, especially not when Lehabah called over from her couch, “The tortoise is named Marlene.”

Ruhn gave his sister an alarmed look, but Bryce was doing something on her phone.

Music began playing a moment later, trickling in from speakers hidden in the wood panels. Ruhn listened to the first strains of the song—just a guitar and two soaring, haunting female voices. “You’re still into this band?” As a kid, she’d been obsessed with the sister folk duo.

“Josie and Laurel keep making good music, so I keep listening.” She swiped at her phone.

Ruhn continued his idle browsing. “You always had really good taste.” He tossed it out there—a rope into the stormy sea that was their relationship.

She didn’t look up, but she said a shade quietly, “Thanks.”

Athalar, wisely, didn’t say a word.

Ruhn scanned the shelves, waiting to feel a tug toward anything beyond the sister who’d spoken more to him in the past few days than she had in nine years. The titles were in the common language, the Old Language of the Fae, the mer, and a few other alphabets he didn’t recognize. “This collection is amazing.”

Ruhn reached for a blue tome whose spine glittered with gold foil. Words of the Gods.

“Don’t touch it,” Lehabah warned. “It might bite.”

Ruhn snatched back his hand as the book stirred, rumbling on the shelf. His shadows murmured inside him, readying to strike. He willed them to settle. “Why does the book move?”

“Because they’re special—” Lehabah began.

“Enough, Lele,” Bryce warned. “Ruhn, don’t touch anything without permission.”

“From you or the book?”

“Both,” she said. As if in answer, a book high up on the shelf rustled. Ruhn craned his head to look, and saw a green tome … shining. Beckoning. His shadows murmured, as if in urging. All right, then.

It was a matter of moments to drag over the brass ladder and scale it. Bryce said, seemingly to the library itself, “Don’t bother him,” before Ruhn pulled the book from its resting place. He rolled his eyes at the title. Great Romances of the Fae.

Starborn power indeed. Tucking the book into the crook of his arm, he descended the ladder and returned to the table.

Bryce choked on a laugh at the title. “You sure that Starborn power isn’t for finding smut?” She called to Lehabah, “This one’s right up your alley.”

Lehabah burned to a raspberry pink. “BB, you’re horrible.”

Athalar winked at him. “Enjoy.”

“I will,” Ruhn shot back, flipping open the book. His phone buzzed before he could begin. He fished it from his back pocket and glanced at the screen. “Dec’s got the intel you wanted.”

Bryce and Athalar went still. Ruhn opened the email, then his fingers hovered over the forwarding screen. “I, uh … is your email still the same?” he asked her. “And I don’t have yours, Athalar.”