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.
Was he going to ignore what happened earlier? That wouldn’t do. Not at all.
She casually extended her foot beneath the table. Drifted it up Hunt’s muscled leg. “And now they need the big, tough angel to dispatch them back to Hel.”
He slammed his legs together, trapping her foot. His eyes lifted to hers. Lightning sparked there. “If Aidas or the Prince of the Pit is planning something, this is probably the first hint.”
“Aside from them literally saying that Hel’s armies are waiting for me?”
Hunt squeezed her foot harder, those powerful thigh muscles shifting. “Aside from that. But I can’t tell Celestina about that shit without raising questions about Hel’s interest in you, so I need to find a way to warn her with the intel she gave me.”
Bryce studied her mate and considered the way he’d spoken of the Archangel. “You like Celestina, huh?”
“Tentatively.” His shoulders were tight, though. He explained, “I might like her, but … the Harpy blood-eagled two Ophion rebels today. Celestina allowed that shit to go down here.”
Bryce had seen the news coverage of it already. It had been enough to turn her stomach. She said, “So you’ll play faithful triarii, get her info on the demons, and then …”
“I don’t know.” He released her foot. She traced her toes over his knee. “Stop it. I can’t think if you’re doing that.”
“Good.”
“Quinlan.” His voice dropped low. She bit her lip.
But Hunt said softly, “Any word from Fury?”
“Yeah. Package was delivered, safe and sound.” She could only pray her mom wasn’t showing Emile her weird babies-in-plants sculptures.
“Tharion’s off the hunt,” Hunt said.
She stiffened. “You told him?”
“Not the details. Only that the search isn’t worth his time, and he won’t find what he’s seeking.”
“And you trust him?”
His voice went quieter. “I do.” He returned to the documents he’d been poring over.
Bryce grazed her toes over his other knee, but he clapped a hand on top of her foot, halting its progress. “If Hel’s amassing armies, then these demons must be the vanguard, coming to test the defenses around Nena.”
“But they’d need to find a way to open the Northern Rift entirely.”
“Yeah.” He eyed Bryce. “Maybe Aidas has been buttering you up for that.”
Bryce’s blood chilled. “Cthona spare me.”
He frowned. “Don’t think for one moment that Aidas and the Prince of the Pit have forgotten the Horn in your back. That Thanatos didn’t have it in mind when you spoke to him.”
She rubbed at her temple. “Maybe I should cut it out of my skin and burn it.”
He grimaced. “That’s a real turn-on, Quinlan.”
“Were you getting turned on?” She wiggled her toes beneath his hand. “I couldn’t tell.”
He gave her a half smile—finally, a crack in that pissed-off exterior. “I was waiting to see how high your foot was going to get.”
Her core heated. “Then why’d you stop me?”
“I thought you’d like a little challenge.”
She bit her lip again. “There was an interesting book in those stacks over there.” She inclined her head to the darkness behind them. “Maybe we should check it out.”
His eyes simmered. “Might be useful.”
“Definitely useful.” She rose from the desk and strode into the dimness, deep enough into the stacks that none of the cameras in the atrium where they’d been sitting could pick them up.
Hands wrapped around her waist from behind, and Hunt pressed against her. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”
“And you’re a domineering alphahole, you know that?”
“I’m not domineering.” He nibbled at her ear.