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

“No. I mean, yeah, I miss him like crazy, but …” He paused. Could they tell her everything Bryce had learned?

Ruhn spared him the effort of deciding and said, “Do you know what happens to the dead after they’ve been in the Bone Quarter for a while?”

Her face paled. “You learned of the secondlight.”

“Yeah,” Ruhn said, lip ring glinting. “Ithan is pretty worried about what happened to his brother and the Pack of Devils, especially after they helped my sister. If you’ve got any ability to learn what’s happened to Connor Holstrom, or to warn him, even if it’s to no avail … we’d appreciate it. But Ithan will gladly escort you either way you choose.”

Ithan tried not to appear too grateful. He’d spent years thinking Ruhn was a dick, mostly thanks to Bryce and Danika constantly dissing him, but … this guy had let him into his house, trusted him with his secrets, and now seemed intent on helping him. He wondered if the Fae knew how lucky they were.

Hypaxia nodded sagely. “There is a ritual I could perform … It’d need to be on the Autumnal Equinox, though.”

“When the veil between realms is thinnest,” Ruhn said.

“Yes.” Hypaxia smiled sadly at Ithan. “I’m sorry for your loss. And that you’ve learned the truth.”

“How do you know the truth?” Ithan asked.

“The dead have little reason to lie.”

Ice skittered down Ithan’s spine. “I see.” The chandelier rattled above.

Ruhn rubbed at his face, the tattoos on his arm shifting with the movement. He lowered his hand and looked at the witch-queen. His fiancée. Lucky male.

“You cool with a dragon joining you?” the prince asked Hypaxia.

“That dragon?” Hypaxia peered at the ceiling.

“A lawyer friend of mine says I need a royal, official reason to commandeer someone else’s slave. A very important, powerful slave. Protecting my fiancée is about as important as it gets.”

Hypaxia’s lips curled, though doubt kindled in her dark eyes. That made two of them. She asked Ithan, “How do you feel about it?”

Ithan gave her a half smile, flattered that she’d even asked. “If you can contact my brother on the equinox, then it doesn’t really matter what I feel.”

“Of course it does,” she said, and sounded like she meant it.

A few weeks until the equinox. And then he could see Connor again. Even if it was just one last time.

Even if it was only to deliver a warning that might do him no good.

Bryce might have avoided going home for as long as possible. Might have stayed at the archives right until closing and been one of the last people exiting the building as night fell. She’d made it down the sweeping marble steps, breathing in the dry, warm night air, when she saw him.

Hunt leaned against a car across the narrow street, wings folded elegantly. People hurrying home from work gave him a wide berth. Some outright crossed the street to avoid him.

He’d worn his hat. That fucking sunball hat she couldn’t resist.

“Quinlan.” He pushed off the car and approached her where she’d halted at the foot of the stairs.

She lifted her chin. “Athalar.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “So that’s how it’s gonna go, huh?”

“What do you want?” They’d had little fights over the months, but nothing this important.

He waved a hand to the building looming behind her. “I need to use the archives to look something up. I didn’t want to disturb you during working hours.”

She jabbed a thumb at the building, now beautifully illuminated against the starry night. “You waited too long. The building is closed.”

“I didn’t realize you’d hide inside until closing. Avoiding something, Quinlan?” He smiled savagely as she bristled. “But you’re good at sweet-talking people into doing your bidding. Getting us in will be a walk in the park, won’t it?”

She didn’t bother to look pleasant, though she pivoted and began marching back up the steps, heels clacking on the stone. “What do you need?”

He gestured to the cameras mounted on the massive pillars of the entrance. “I’ll explain inside.”

“So you think Hel’s planning something?” Bryce asked two hours later when she found Hunt where she’d left him, the massive expanse of the archives quiet around them. There had been no need to sweet-talk her way in after all. She’d discovered another perk to working here: getting to use this place after hours. Alone. Not even a librarian to monitor them. They’d gotten past the security guards with barely a word. And her boss wouldn’t show up until night was fully overhead—not for at least another hour.

Hunt had said he needed to peruse some newly translated Fae texts on ancient demons, so she’d gotten him set up at a table in the atrium and then gone back to her office on the other side of the floor.

“The demons in the reports Celestina gave me are bad news,” Hunt said. He was working at the desk, sunball hat bright in the moonlight streaming through the glass ceiling. “Some of the worst of the Pit. All rare. All lethal. The last time I saw so many clustered together was during the attack this spring.”

“Hmm.” Bryce slid into the chair across from him.