Her brother was pale. “You really think Theia and a bunch of Fae sided with Hel during the war?”
Bryce suppressed a shiver of cold at the memory. “Who knows what’s true?”
Across the vast, empty room, Hunt rubbed his jaw. She hadn’t even mentioned what Apollion had said—that little tidbit about Hunt being bred. She’d tackle that later. Hunt mused, “What’s the benefit in convincing us of a lie? Or the truth, either, I suppose. All that matters is that Hel is definitely on the move.”
Declan said, “Can we pause for a moment and remark on the fact that both of you have spoken to the Prince of the Pit? Is no one else about to puke at the thought?”
Ruhn held up a hand, and Tharion lazily lifted one from the bench, but Bryce high-fived Hunt. “Special kids club,” she said to the angel, who winked at her. She leapt back a step, rallying her power. “Again.” They’d been in here for twenty minutes already, practicing.
Hunt’s lightning flared at his fingertips, and Bryce set her feet apart. “Ready?” he asked.
Tharion roused himself enough to turn over, propping his head on a fist. Bryce scowled at him, but the mer only waggled his brows in encouragement.
She faced Hunt again, right as the angel hurled his lightning at her like a spear. It zinged against her chest, a direct hit, and then she was glowing, power singing, soaring—
Two feet in front of the windows.
She’d no sooner thought the command than she appeared across the space. Exactly two feet from the windows. Back to a foot before Hunt.
She appeared before him, so suddenly that he staggered back.
Ruhn. She moved again, slower this time. But her brother yelped.
Declan braced himself, like he thought he’d be next, so Bryce thought, A foot behind Hunt.
She pinched her mate’s butt so fast he didn’t have time to whirl before she’d moved again. This time in front of Declan, who cursed when she poked him in the ribs, then teleported once more.
Cormac called from where he’d been standing in the far corner, “You’re slowing.” She was. Damn it, she was. Bryce rallied her power, Hunt’s energy. She appeared in front of Tharion’s bench, but the mer was waiting.
Fast as a striking shark, Tharion grabbed her face and planted a smacking kiss on her lips.
Hunt’s laugh boomed across the space, and Bryce joined him, batting the mer away.
“Too slow, Legs,” Tharion drawled, leaning back against the bench and crossing an ankle over a knee. He draped an arm along the back of the plastic bench. “And too predictable.”
“Again,” Cormac ordered. “Focus.”
Bryce tried, but her bones weighed her down. Tried again to no avail. “I’m out.”
“Concentrate, and you could hold on longer. You use too much at once, and don’t reserve the energy for later.”
Bryce put her hands on her hips as she panted. “Your teleporting works differently than mine. How can you know that?”
“Mine comes from a source of magic, too. Energy, just a different form. Each jump takes more out of me. It’s a muscle that you need to build up.”
She scowled, wiping her brow as she walked back over to Hunt.
“It does seem like he’s right,” Declan said to Bryce. “Your teleporting works when your power gets charged up by energy—considering what I heard about how quickly you ran out of steam with Hypaxia, Hunt’s is the best form of it.”
“Damn right it is,” Hunt growled, earning a smack on the arm from Bryce.
“Do you think the power will … stay in me if I don’t use it?” she asked Dec.
“I don’t think so,” Dec said. “Your power came from the Gate—with a shit-ton of firstlight mixed in. So your magic—beyond the light, I mean—needs to be powered up. It relies on firstlight, or any other form of energy it can get. You’re literally a Gate: you can take in power and offer it. But it seems the similarity ends there. The Gates can store power indefinitely, while yours clearly peters out after a while.” He faced Hunt. “And your power, Athalar, as pure energy, is able to draw from her, like she did from the Gate. Bryce, when you draw from a source, it’s the same way the Gates zap power from people using them to communicate.”
Bryce blinked. “So I’m like some magical leech?”
Declan laughed. “I think only of certain kinds of magic. Forms of pure energy. Throw in the Horn, which relies on a blast of power to activate it …”