House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City #3) by Sarah J. Maas

Ruhn sighed. “Be careful. Let’s rendezvous at sunset—the northeastern corner of the intersection just past the shooting range.”

“Copy,” Flynn and Dec said, and hung up.

Ruhn and Lidia walked another block or so in the reeking quiet before he said, “You lulled me to sleep with a story once. About a witch who turned into a monster.”

“What of it?” She glanced sidelong at him.

“Is it a real story, or did you make it up?”

“It was a story my mother told me,” she said softly. “The only story I remember her telling me as a child before she … let me go.”

He’d been about to ask if the similarities between the evil prince and Pollux, the kind knight and himself, had been meant prophetically, but at the sadness in her voice … “I’m really sorry you went through that, Lidia. I can’t imagine doing that to a child. The thought of letting my own kid go into the arms of a stranger—”

“I did it, though,” she said, staring ahead at nothing. “What my mother did to me, I did exactly the same thing to my sons.”

His heart ached at the pain and guilt in her voice. “You entrusted your sons to a loving family—”

“I didn’t know that. I had no idea who they were going to be living with.”

“But the alternative was taking them with you.”

“Maybe I should have. Maybe I should have run into the wilds and hidden forever with them.”

“What kind of life would that have been? You gave them a real life, and a happy one, on the Depth Charger.”

“A true mother would have—”

“You are a true mother,” he said, and grabbed her hand, turning her to face him. “Lidia, you made an impossible choice—you decided to protect your children, even if it meant you wouldn’t see them grow up. Fuck, if that doesn’t make you a true mother, then I don’t know what does.”

Pain rippled across her face, and he wrapped his arms around her as she leaned against his chest. “They were the one thing that kept me going,” she said. “Through every horror, it was just knowing that they were there, and safe, and that my choices were keeping them that way.”

He slid a hand down her back, luxuriating in the feel of her, offering up whatever comfort he could. They stood there for long minutes, just holding each other.

“I told you before,” she said against his chest, “that you remind me that I’m alive.”

He kissed the top of her head in answer, her golden hair silky against his mouth.

“For a long time, I wasn’t,” she said. “I did my work as the Hind, as Daybright—all to keep my sons safe and do what I thought was right. But I felt nothing. I was essentially a wraith most days, occupying a shell of a body. But then I met you, and it was like I was back in my body again. Like I was … awake.” She pulled back, scanning his face. “I don’t think I’d ever been truly awake,” she said, “until I met you.”

He smiled down at her, his heart too full for words. So he kissed her, gently, lovingly.

She slid her hand into his as they continued onward. But Ruhn paused her again, long enough to tip her head back and kiss her once more. “I know we have some shit to sort out still,” he said against her mouth, “but … girlfriend, lover, whatever you want to be, I’m all in.”

Her lips curved against his in a smile. “I thank Urd every single day that Cormac asked you to be my contact.”

He pulled away, grinning. “I still owe you a beer.”

“If we get through this, Ruhn,” she said, “I’ll buy you a beer.”

Ruhn grinned again, and slid an arm around her waist as they walked on into the gloom. They strode in warm, companionable quiet for several blocks before Lidia’s phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her pocket to glance at the screen. “It’s from the Depth Charger,” she said, and paused to open the message.

He watched her eyes dart over the screen—then halt. Her hands shook.

“Pollux,” Lidia breathed, and Ruhn stilled. Her eyes lifted to his, and pure panic filled them as she whispered, “He’s taken my sons.”



* * *



Hunt didn’t let himself dwell on it—the unholy majesty that was Bryce wearing the Mask. On what she’d been able to do to the Harpy.

He faced Celestina, Isaiah and Naomi behind her, all clad in heavy winter gear. Isaiah’s and the Governor’s white wings were nearly invisible against the snow. All their faces, however, were taut with shock. “What are you doing here?” Hunt said.

“What is that?” Naomi breathed, ignoring his question, eyes on the golden object in Bryce’s hands.

“Death,” Isaiah answered, face ashen. “That mask … it’s death.”

Hunt demanded again, “What are you doing here?”

Isaiah’s eyes shot to Hunt’s. “We’ve been tracking that thing.” He gestured to the pile of clothes that had been the resurrected Harpy moments before. “Celestina’s old contacts up here reported that the guard station at the wall had been attacked by some new terror, so we all raced up here, fearing it was something from Hel—”

“Why not send a legion?” Hunt asked, eyeing the two angels who’d once been his closest companions. “Why come yourselves?”