House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City #2) by Sarah J. Maas

The demon to his left lunged, teeth snapping.

Hunt blasted his lightning, forks of it wrapping around the beast’s thick neck. It bucked, bellowing, and the one to his right charged. Hunt lashed at it, another collar of lightning going around its neck, a leash of white light clenched in his fist.

Had Bryce made it to the river? The third demon had raced after her before he could stop it, but she was fast, and she was smart—

The demons before him halted. They shuddered and melted back into each other, becoming one beast again.

His lightning remained around its neck. But he could do nothing as it flexed—and shattered the lightning sizzling into its flesh. Something of that size and speed would use the two seconds of slowness it took him to get airborne and swallow him whole.

This wasn’t how he’d expected the morning to go.

He rallied his power, focusing. He’d killed Sandriel with this lightning. A demon should be nothing. But before he could act, a scream rent the mists to the southeast. The beast twisted toward the sound, sniffing.

And before Hunt could stop it, faster than his lightning’s whip, it raced off into the mist. After Bryce.

Bryce crouched beside the Dead Gate, sizing up the threats surrounding her. Not just the hound, but the two dozen Reapers who’d floated from the mists, encircling her.

The half-lifes’ rotting flesh reeked; their acid-green eyes glowed through the mists. Their rasping whispers slithered like snakes over her skin. The Shepherd advanced, cutting her off further.

The crystal of the Dead Gate began to glow white. Not from her touch, but as if—

The Reapers were chanting. Awakening the Dead Gate, somehow.

During the attack on the city, it had channeled her magic against the demons, but today … today it would siphon off her power. Her soul. The Gates sucked magic from whoever touched them, and stored it. She’d inherited her power from that very force.

But this one fed that power right back into the power grid. Like some fucked-up rechargeable battery. Somehow, she’d become food. Was that what she’d traded away? A few centuries here, thinking she’d found eternal rest—and then meeting this end? Instead, she’d face a trip straight into the meat grinder of souls immediately when she died.

Which seemed likely to be soon.

There was a good chance that she could draw from the Gate as well, she supposed. But what if the Dead Gate was somehow different? What if she went to summon power, only to lose all of hers? She couldn’t risk it.

Bryce got to her feet, hands shaking. The Starsword lay between her and the Shepherd.

Hunt’s lightning had stopped. Where was he? Would a mate know, would a mate feel—

Another dog stepped from the mist. Then peeled apart into two—the ones Hunt had been fighting. No blood stained their muzzles, but Hunt wasn’t with them. Not a sliver of his lightning graced the mists.

The three dogs advanced, sniffing for her location. The Reapers kept chanting as the Dead Gate glowed brighter. That teleporting of Cormac’s would have been helpful—she could have grabbed Hunt five minutes ago and vanished.

She glanced at the sword. It was now or never. Live or die. Like, really die.

Bryce sucked in a breath, and didn’t give herself a chance to second-guess her stupidity. She bolted for the hounds. They charged, leaping for her with three sets of snapping jaws—

Bryce dropped, the rocky ground shredding her face as she slid beneath them, until the Starsword was cradled to her body. Something burning shot down her back.

The world boomed with the impact of the three hounds landing and pivoting. Bryce tried to get up, to hold the sword out, but blood warmed her back. A claw must have raked up her spine while one of the hounds had leapt over her, and the splintering, blistering pain—

Hunt was out there somewhere. Possibly dying.

Bryce dug the tip of the Starsword into the earth, using it to shove herself up to her knees. Her back screamed in agony. She might have screamed with it. The three hounds, the Reapers beyond them, seemed to smile.

“Yeah,” Bryce panted, heaving to her feet. “Fuck you, too.”

Her legs wobbled, yet she managed to lift the black sword in front of her. The three beasts roared, threatening to split her ears. Bryce opened her mouth to roar back.

But someone else did it for her.

For Hunt, there was only Bryce, bleeding and hurt.

Bryce, who’d made that brash run for the sword, probably thinking it was her only shot. Bryce, who’d gotten to her feet anyway, and planned to go down swinging.

Bryce, his mate.

The three hounds merged back into one. Readying for the killing blow.

Hunt landed in the dirt beside her and let out a bellow that shook the Gate itself.

Wreathed in lightning from wing tip to toe, Hunt landed beside Bryce so hard the earth shuddered. The power rolling off him sent Bryce’s hair floating upward. Primal rage poured from Hunt as he faced down the Shepherd. The Reapers.

She’d never seen anything of the sort—Hunt was the heart of a storm personified. The lightning around him turned blue, like the hottest part of a flame.

An image blasted through her mind. She had seen this before, carved in stone in the lobby of the CCB. A Fae male posed like an avenging god, hammer raised to the sky, a channel for his power—

Hunt unleashed his lightning at the Shepherd, the Reapers observing with wide eyes.

Bryce was too fast, even for him, as she leapt in front of the blow, Starsword extended. A wild theory, only half-formed, but—