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House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City, #2)(51)

Author:Sarah J. Maas

It was the work of a moment to reach them, and Tharion cut the engine and drifted for the quay, keeping well away from the black boat tied nearby.

“Where the fuck have you been this summer?” Hunt asked, crossing his arms.

But Tharion said breathlessly to Bryce, “We need to talk.”

“How did you even find us?” Bryce asked as they rode the elevator in her apartment building minutes later.

“Spy-master, remember?” Tharion grinned. “I’ve got eyes everywhere.” He followed Bryce and Hunt into the apartment.

Bryce’s attention immediately shot to Ithan—who was exactly where she’d left him that morning: on the couch, Syrinx sprawled across his lap. His face had healed even more, the raw scar nearly vanished.

Ithan straightened as Tharion entered. “Relax,” she said, and didn’t spare the wolf another glance as Hunt and Tharion aimed for the couch.

Bryce let out a warning hiss at the mer’s still-wet clothes.

Hunt rolled his eyes and sat at the dining table instead. “This is why people shouldn’t get white couches,” the angel grumbled, and Bryce scowled.

“Then you can clean off the river water and dirt,” she shot back.

“That’s what insta-clean spells are for,” Hunt replied smoothly. Bryce scowled.

“Domestic bliss, I see,” Tharion said.

Bryce snickered, but Ithan asked from the couch, “Who are you?”

Tharion flashed him a smile. “None of your business.”

But Ithan sniffed. “Mer. Oh—yeah, I know you. Captain Whatever.”

“Ketos,” Tharion muttered.

Hunt tipped his head to Ithan. “You’ve landed a grave blow to Captain Whatever’s ego, Holstrom.”

“The gravest blow comes from my dearest friends failing to extol my many qualities when I’m challenged,” Tharion said, pouting.

“Dearest friends?” Hunt asked, raising a brow.

“Prettiest friends,” Tharion said, blowing a kiss to Bryce.

Bryce laughed and twisted away, putting her phone on silent before sending off a message to Ruhn. Get over here ASAP.

He replied instantly. What’s wrong?

NOW.

Whatever it was that Tharion wanted with such urgency, Ruhn should know about it, too. She wanted him to know about it. Which was … weird. Yet nice.

Bryce slid her phone into her back pocket as Tharion gestured toward the neon-pink lace bra dangling off the folding door to the laundry machines. “Hot,” the mer said.

“Don’t get her started,” Hunt muttered.

Bryce glared at him, but said to Tharion, “It’s been a while.” The mer was as attractive as she remembered. Perhaps more so, now that he was slightly disheveled and muddy.

“We talking about your sex life, or the time since I’ve seen you?” Tharion asked, glancing between her and Hunt. Hunt glowered, but Bryce smiled fiendishly. Tharion went on, heedless of Hunt’s ire, “It’s been a busy summer.” He jumped onto a stool at the kitchen counter and patted the one beside him. “Sit, Legs. Let’s have a chat.”

Bryce plopped next to him, hooking her feet on the bar below.

Tharion asked, suddenly serious, “Did Danika ever talk about someone named Sofie?” Ithan grunted in surprise.

Bryce’s mouth scrunched to the side. “Sofie who?”

Before she could ask more, Hunt demanded, “What the fuck is this about?”

Tharion said smoothly, “Just updating some old files.”

Bryce drummed her fingers on the marble counter. “On Danika?”

Tharion shrugged. “Glamorous as my life might seem, Legs, there’s a lot of grunt work behind the scenes.” He winked. “Though not the sort of grunting I’d like to do with you, of course.”

“Don’t try to distract me with flirting,” Bryce said. “Why are you asking about Danika? And who the Hel is Sofie?”

Tharion sighed at the ceiling. “There’s a cold case I’m working on, and Danika—”

“Don’t lie to her, Tharion,” Hunt growled. Lightning danced along his wings.

A thrill shot through Bryce at it—not only the power, but knowing he had her back. She said to Tharion, “I’m not telling you shit until you give me more information.” She jabbed a thumb toward Ithan. “And neither is he, so don’t even ask.”

Ithan only smiled slowly at the mer, as if daring him to.

Tharion sized them all up. To his credit, he didn’t back down. A muscle ticked in his cheek, though. As if he waged some inner debate. Then the mer captain said, “I, ah … I was assigned to look into a human woman, Sofie Renast. She was a rebel who was captured by the Hind two weeks ago. But Sofie was no ordinary human, and neither was her younger brother—Emile. Both he and Sofie pass as human, yet they possess full thunderbird powers.”

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