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

From the hallway behind him, low voices murmured. Naomi—and Pollux. Isaiah’s soothing tones wove between them. Thank the gods.

Hunt found Baxian observing him warily. He threw a flat stare back, one he’d perfected as the Umbra Mortis. Baxian just aimed for the hallway. Hunt gave him a wide berth.

The Hammer filled the doorway of Vik’s room, talking to Isaiah and Naomi in the hall. It was Pollux’s room now. Hunt’s magic rumbled, lightning on the horizon. Pollux sneered at Hunt as he stalked past. Bags and boxes were piled high behind him, a miniature city dedicated to the Hammer’s vanity.

Hunt, keenly aware of all the cameras, of Bryce’s plea to behave, continued on, nodding at Naomi and Isaiah as he passed.

“Well, here you go,” Hunt said to Baxian, pausing before Justinian’s old room. Baxian opened the door. The room was as bare and empty as Hunt’s had been.

A duffel lay beside the narrow bed. All of Baxian’s belongings fit in one fucking bag.

It didn’t make a difference. The Helhound was an asshole who had done shit that even Hunt couldn’t stomach. For him to be in Justinian’s room, filling his place—

The crucifix in the lobby flashed in Hunt’s mind, Justinian’s agonized face as he hung on it. Hunt tried to banish the thought, but failed. He’d fucked up. Twice now, he’d fucked up. First with the Fallen rebellion, then this spring with the Viper Queen, and now … Was he really going to allow himself and Bryce to be dragged into something similar? How many people would be destroyed by the end?

Baxian said, stepping into his room, “Thanks for the tour, Athalar.”

Hunt again glimpsed that sad, empty little room behind the Helhound. Perhaps something like pity stirred him, because he said, “I’ll give you a lesson on video games tomorrow. I gotta get home.”

He could have sworn a shadow dimmed in Baxian’s eyes that appeared a Hel of a lot like longing. “Thanks.”

Hunt grunted. “We’ll link up after the morning check-in. You can shadow me for the day.”

“Real generous of you,” Baxian said, and shut the door without further reply.

Fortunately, Pollux shut his own door right then—slammed it in Naomi’s face. Leaving Hunt with his two friends.

They headed for the common room without needing to say a word, waiting until they’d closed the door and ensured no one was in the bathroom before sinking onto the couch. Hunt really wanted to go home, but … “So this fucking sucks,” he said quietly.

“Pollux should be drawn and quartered,” Naomi spat.

“I’m amazed you’re both still alive,” Isaiah said to her, propping his feet on the coffee table and loosening the gray tie around his neck. Judging by the suit, he must have recently gotten in from escorting Celestina somewhere. “But as your commander, I’m grateful you didn’t brawl.” He gave Hunt a pointed look.

Hunt snorted. But Naomi said, “The two of them defile those rooms by staying in there.”

“They’re only rooms,” Isaiah said, though pain tightened his face. “All that Vik and Justinian were … it’s not in there.”

“Yeah, it’s in a box at the bottom of a trench,” Naomi said, crossing her arms. “And Justinian’s ashes are on the wind.”

“So are Micah’s,” Hunt said softly, and they looked at him.

Hunt just shrugged.

“Were you really going to rebel this spring?” Naomi asked. They hadn’t once spoken about it these past months. The shit that had gone down.

“Not by the end,” Hunt said. “I meant everything I said on the boat. I changed my mind; I realized that wasn’t the path for me.” He met Isaiah’s disapproving frown. “I still mean it.”

He did. If Sofie and Emile and Ophion and Cormac and all that shit went away right now, he wouldn’t fucking think twice about it. Would be glad for it.

But that wasn’t how things were playing out. It wasn’t how Bryce wanted it to play out. He could barely stand the sight of Isaiah’s tattooed brow.

“I know,” Isaiah said at last. “You’ve got a lot more on the line now,” he added, and Hunt wondered if he’d intended the slight tone of warning in the words.

Wondered if Isaiah remembered how he and the other angels in the Summit conference room had bowed to him after he’d ripped off Sandriel’s head. What would his friends do if he told them about his recent contact with an Ophion rebel? His head spun.

Hunt changed the subject, nodding to the hall behind the shut door. “You two going to stay here or find places of your own?”

“Oh, I’m out,” Isaiah said, practically beaming. “Signed a lease this morning on a place a few blocks from here. CBD, but closer to the Old Square.”

“Nice,” Hunt said, and lifted a brow at Naomi, who shook her head.

“Free rent,” she said, “despite the new hallmates.” Pollux and Baxian would be staying here until Celestina deemed them well adjusted enough to live in the city proper. Hunt shuddered to think of them loose.

“Do you trust that they’re going to behave?” he asked Isaiah. “Because I fucking don’t.”

“We don’t have any choice but to trust that they will,” Isaiah said, sighing. “And hope that the Governor will see them for what they are.”