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

Bryce said to the Fae males, to her wide-eyed brother, “Maybe whoever is summoning this demon is drawing upon the power of these ley lines under the city to have the strength to summon it. If all the murders take place near them, maybe that’s how the demon appeared.”

One of the Aux team called Ruhn’s name, and her brother merely gave her an impressed nod before going over to them. She ignored what that admiration did to her, turning her gaze to Hunt instead as he kept walking down the alley, the powerful muscles of his legs shifting. She heard him call to Isaiah as he walked toward the commander, “Have Viktoria run a search on the cameras along Main, Central, and Ward. See if they catch any blip of power—any small surge or drop in temperature that might happen if a demon were summoned.” The kristallos might stay out of sight, but surely the cameras would pick up a slight disturbance in the power flow or temperature. “And have her look at the firstlight grid around those times, too. See if anything registered.”

Declan watched the angel stride off, then said to Bryce, “You know what he does, right?”

“Look really good in black?” she said sweetly.

Declan growled. “That demon-hunting is a front. He does the Governor’s dirty work.” His chiseled jaw clenched for a second. “Hunt Athalar is bad news.”

She batted her eyelashes. “Good thing I like bad boys.”

Flynn let out a low whistle.

But Declan shook his head. “The angels don’t give a shit about anyone, B. His goals are not your goals. Athalar’s goals might not even be the same as Micah’s. Be careful.”

She nodded to where her brother was again speaking with the stunning medwitch. “I already got the pep talk from Ruhn, don’t worry.”

Down the alley, Hunt was saying to Isaiah, “Call me if Viktoria gets any video of it.” Then he added, as if not quite used to it, “Thanks.”

In the distance, clouds gathered. Rain had been predicted for the middle of the night, but it seemed it was arriving sooner.

Hunt stalked back toward them. “They’re on it.”

“We’ll see if the 33rd follows through this time,” Declan muttered. “I’m not holding my breath.”

Hunt straightened. Bryce waited for his defense, but the angel shrugged. “Me neither.”

Flynn jerked his head toward the angels working the scene. “No loyalty?”

Hunt read a message that flashed on his phone’s screen, then pocketed it. “I don’t have any choice but to be loyal.”

And to tick off those deaths one by one. Bryce’s stomach twisted.

Declan’s amber eyes dropped to the tattoo on Hunt’s wrist. “It’s fucked up.”

Flynn grumbled his agreement. At least her brother’s friends were on the same page as her regarding the politics of the Asteri.

Hunt looked the males over again. Assessing. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “It is.”

“Understatement of the century.” Bryce surveyed the murder scene, her body tightening again, not wanting to look. Hunt met her eyes, as if sensing that tightening, the shift in her scent. He gave her a subtle nod.

Bryce lifted her chin and declared, “We’re going now.”

Declan waved. “I’ll call you soon, B.”

Flynn blew her a kiss.

She rolled her eyes. “Bye.” She caught Ruhn’s stare and motioned her farewell. Her brother threw her a wave, and continued talking to the witch.

They made it all of one block before Hunt said, a little too casually, “You and Tristan Flynn ever hook up?”

Bryce blinked. “Why would you ask that?”

He tucked in his wings. “Because he flirts with you nonstop.”

She snorted. “You wanna tell me about everyone you’ve ever hooked up with, Athalar?”

His silence told her enough. She smirked.

But then the angel said, as if he needed something to distract him from the pulped remains they’d left behind, “None of my hookups are worth mentioning.” He paused again, taking a breath before continuing. “But that’s because Shahar ruined me for anyone else.”

Ruined me. The words clanged through Bryce.

Hunt went on, eyes swimming with memory, “I grew up in Shahar’s territory in the southeast of Pangera, and as I worked my way up the ranks of her legions, I fell in love with her. With her vision for the world. With her ideas about how the angel hierarchies might change.” He swallowed. “Shahar was the only one who ever suggested to me that I’d been denied anything by being born a bastard. She promoted me through her ranks, until I served as her right hand. Until I was her lover.” He blew out a long breath. “She led the rebellion against the Asteri, and I led her forces—the 18th Legion. You know how it ended.”

Everyone in Midgard did. The Daystar would have led the angels—maybe everyone—to a freer world, but she’d been extinguished. Another dreamer crushed under the boot heel of the Asteri.

Hunt said, “So you and Flynn …?”

“You tell me this tragic love story and expect me to answer it with my bullshit?” His silence was answer enough. She sighed. But—fine. She, too, needed to talk about something to shake off that murder scene. And to dispel the shadows that had filled his eyes when he’d spoken of Shahar.