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

Hunt had suspected that half the people who’d come to her Sailing hoped Danika’s begging meant she’d be given to the river, that they could deem the haughty and wild former Alpha a coward.

Sabine, clearly aware of those anticipating such an outcome, had only waited until the river gates opened to reveal the swirling mists of the Bone Quarter, the boat tugged inside by invisible hands, and then left. She didn’t wait to see the Sailings for the rest of the Pack of Devils.

But Hunt and everyone else had. It had been the last time he’d seen Ithan Holstrom. Weeping as he pushed his brother’s remains into the blue waters, so distraught his sunball teammates had been forced to hold him up. The cold-eyed male who’d served as escort today was a wholly different person from that boy.

Talented, Hunt had heard Naomi say of Ithan in her endless running commentary about the Aux packs and how they stacked up to the 33rd. Beyond his skill on the sunball field, Ithan Holstrom was a gifted warrior, who had made the Drop and come within spitting distance of Connor’s power. Naomi always said that despite being cocky, Ithan was a solid male: fair-minded, smart, and loyal.

And a fucking prick, it seemed.

Hunt shook his head, again staring toward the Bone Quarter.

Did Danika Fendyr roam that misty island? Or part of her, at least? Did she remember the friend who, even so long after her death, took no shit from anyone who insulted her memory? Did she know that Bryce would do anything, possibly descend to the level of rage forever preserved in the video, to destroy her killer? Even if that killer was Danika’s own mother?

Loyal unto death and beyond.

Hunt’s phone rang, Isaiah’s name popping up again, but Hunt didn’t immediately answer. Not as he glanced at the gallery roof beneath his boots and wondered what it was like—to have a friend like that.





45

“So do you think you’ll get promoted to principal after the season?” Her shoulder wedging her phone against her ear, Bryce toed off her shoes at her apartment door and strode for the wall of windows. Syrinx, freed of his leash, ran for his food bowl to await his dinner.

“Doubtful,” Juniper said, her voice soft and quiet. “Eugenie is really killing it this year. I think she’ll be tapped for principal next. I’ve been a little off in some of my solos, I can feel it.”

Bryce peered out the window, spotted Hunt precisely where he said he’d wait until she signaled that she was safe and sound in her apartment, and waved. “You know you’ve been awesome. Don’t pretend that you’re not killing it, too.”

Hunt lifted a hand and launched skyward, winking at her as he flew past the window, then headed to the Munin and Hugin.

He hadn’t been able to convince her to join his triarii companions at the bar, and had made her swear on all five gods that she wouldn’t leave her apartment or open the door for anyone while he was gone.

Well, for almost anyone.

From their brief conversation, she’d gleaned that Hunt was invited often to the bar, but had never gone. Why he was going tonight for the first time … Maybe she was driving him nuts. She hadn’t sensed that, but maybe he just needed a night off.

“I’ve been doing all right, I guess,” Juniper admitted.

Bryce clicked her tongue. “You’re so full of shit with that ‘all right’ crap.”

“I was thinking, B,” Juniper said carefully. “My instructor mentioned that she’s starting a dance class that’s open to the general public. You could go.”

“Your instructor is the most in-demand teacher in this city. No way I’d get in,” Bryce deflected, watching the cars and pedestrians stream past below her window.

“I know,” Juniper said. “That’s why I asked her to save you a spot.”

Bryce stilled. “I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

“It’s a two-hour class, twice a week. After work hours.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.”

“You were, Bryce. You were good.”

Bryce clenched her teeth. “Not fucking good enough.”

“It didn’t matter to you before Danika died. Just go to the class. It’s not an audition—it’s literally just a class for people who love to dance. Which you do.”

“Which I did.”

Juniper’s breath rattled the phone. “Danika would be heartbroken to hear you don’t dance anymore. Even for fun.”

Bryce made a show of humming with consideration. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” Juniper said. “I’m sending you the details.”

Bryce changed the subject. “You wanna come over and watch some trashy TV? Beach House Hookup is on tonight at nine.”

Juniper asked slyly, “Is the angel there?”

“He’s out for beers with his little cabal of killers.”

“They’re called the triarii, Bryce.”

“Yeah, just ask them.” Bryce turned from the window and aimed for the kitchen. Syrinx still waited at his food bowl, lion’s tail waggling. “Would it make a difference if Hunt was here?”

“I’d be over a Hel of a lot faster.”

Bryce laughed. “Shameless.” She scooped Syrinx’s food into his bowl. His claws clicked as he pranced in place, counting each kibble piece. “Unfortunately for you, I think he’s hung up on someone.”