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

“I spoke to her for five minutes before Pollux came in. It wasn’t enough to make a judgment.”

“Isaiah and Naomi seem to like her.”

“You talked to them?”

“On the way in. They’re … concerned about you.”

Hunt growled. “They should be concerned about those two psychopaths living here.”

“Hunt.”

The sun lit her eyes to a gold so brilliant it knocked the breath from him. She said, “I know your history with Pollux. I understand why you reacted this way. But it can’t happen again.”

“I know.” He licked his ice cream again. “The Asteri sent him here for a reason. Probably to rile me like this.”

“They told us to lie low. Why goad you out of doing so?”

“Maybe they changed their minds and want a public reason to arrest us.”

“We killed two Archangels. They don’t need any further charges to sign our death sentences.”

“Maybe they do. Maybe they worry we could get away with it if it went to trial. And a public trial would mean admitting our roles in Micah’s and Sandriel’s deaths.”

“I think the world could easily believe you killed an Archangel. But a widdle nobody half-human like me? That’s the thing they don’t want leaking out.”

“I guess. But … I just have a hard time believing any of this. That Pollux and Baxian being here isn’t a sign of shit about to go down. That Celestina might actually be a decent person. I’ve got more than two hundred years of history telling me to be wary. I can’t deprogram myself.” Hunt shut his eyes.

A moment later, soft fingers tangled in his hair, idly brushing the strands. He nearly purred, but kept perfectly still as Bryce said, “We’ll keep our guards up. But I think … I think we might need to start believing in our good luck.”

“Ithan Holstrom’s arrival is the exact opposite of that.”

Bryce nudged him with a shoulder. “He’s not so bad.”

He cracked open an eye. “You’ve come around quickly on him.”

“I don’t have time to hold grudges.”

“You’re immortal now. I’d say you do.”

She opened her mouth, but a bland male voice echoed through the park: The Gates will be closing in ten minutes. Anyone not in line will not be granted access.

She scowled. “I could have lived without them using the Gates to broadcast announcements all day.”

“You’re the one to blame for it, you know,” he said, mouth kicking up at one corner.

Bryce sighed, but didn’t argue.

It was true. Since she’d used the crystal Gates to contact Danika, it had awoken public interest in them, and revived awareness that they could be used to speak throughout the city. They were now mostly used to make announcements, ranging from the opening and closing times at the tourist sites to the occasional recording of an imperial announcement from Rigelus himself. Hunt hated those the most. This is Rigelus, Bright Hand of the Asteri. We honor the fallen dead in beautiful Lunathion, and thank those who fought for their service.

And we watch all of them like hawks, Hunt always thought when he heard the droning voice that disguised the ancient being within the teenage Fae body.

The Gate announcer fell quiet again, the gentle lapping of the Istros and whispering palm trees overhead filling the air once more.

Bryce’s gaze drifted across the river, to the mists swirling on its opposite shore. She smiled sadly. “Do you think Lehabah is over there?”

“I hope so.” He’d never stop being grateful for what the fire sprite had done.

“I miss her,” she said quietly.

Hunt slid an arm around her, tucking her into his side. Savoring her warmth and offering his own. “Me too.”

Bryce leaned her head against his shoulder. “I know Pollux is a monster; and you have every reason in the world to want to kill him. But please don’t do anything to make the Governor punish you. I couldn’t …” Her voice caught, and Hunt’s chest strained with it. “Watching Micah cut off your wings … I can’t see that again, Hunt. Or any other horror she might invent for you.”

He ran a hand over her silken hair. “I shouldn’t have lost control like that. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. Not for this. Just … be cautious.”

“I will.”

She ate more of her ice cream, but didn’t move. So Hunt did the same, careful not to drip into her hair.

When they’d eaten it all, when the sun was near-vanished and the first stars had appeared, Bryce straightened. “We should go home. Ithan and Syrinx need dinner.”

“I’d suggest not telling Holstrom that you group him with your pet.”

Bryce chuckled, pulling away, and it was all Hunt could do to not reach for her.

He’d decided to Hel with it all when Bryce stiffened, her attention fixed on something beyond his wings. Hunt whirled, hand going to the knife at his thigh.

He swore. This was not an opponent he could fight against. No one could.

“Let’s go,” Hunt murmured, folding a wing around her as the black boat neared the quay. A Reaper stood atop it. Clothed and veiled in billowing black that hid all indication of whether the Reaper was male or female, old or young. Such things did not matter to Reapers.