He walked, unnoticed and unbothered, to the western doors. Slipped out of them and down the five steps to the gravel ground. He strode to the fountain bubbling away in the shadows beyond the reach of the conservatory’s lights and leaned against it, his heart pounding.
Two minutes now. Would Day be here?
He monitored the doors, forcing himself to breathe in and out slowly.
Maybe this was a bad idea. He’d been talking to the Hind and the Hammer, for fuck’s sake. This place was swarming with enemies, all of whom would slaughter him and Day if they were found out. Why had he risked her like this?
“Looking for someone?” a female voice crooned.
Ruhn whirled, his stomach bottoming out as he beheld the masked figure before him.
The Harpy stood in the shadows beyond the fountain. As if she’d been waiting.
60
Ruhn scanned the face in the darkness. It couldn’t be her.
The fucking Harpy? He took in her dark hair, the lean body, the taunting mouth—
“What are you doing out here?” the Harpy asked, stalking closer, her dark wings blacker than the night.
Ruhn forced himself to take a breath. “Day?” he asked quietly.
The Harpy blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The breath nearly whooshed from him. Thank the fucking gods it wasn’t her, but if the Harpy was here, and Agent Daybright was about to appear … The Harpy and the Hind had shown up at the bar that day, but he’d seen nothing of the former since. And yeah, meeting by the fountain with another person wouldn’t scream rebel liaison, but if the Harpy had any suspicions about him, or whoever Daybright was, if she saw them meeting together …
He had to get out of here. Walk back into the conservatory and not endanger Day.
What an idiot he was.
“Enjoy the party,” Ruhn said to the Harpy.
“No stolen kisses for me in the garden?” she mocked as he stormed up the steps.
He’d explain to Day later. The clock read two minutes past twelve—she hadn’t come. Or maybe she’d seen who was in the garden and decided to hang back.
Seen who also observed from the shadows at the top of the stairs.
The Hind’s golden eyes gleamed in the dimness through her mask. She’d followed him. Fuck. Had she suspected that he was slipping away to meet with someone? She hadn’t said a word, as far as he knew, about the shit that had gone down at Ydra—was it so she could ultimately follow them to a bigger prize?
To the greatest prize a spy-catcher could find. Agent Daybright.
Ruhn stared down the Hind as he passed her. She watched him with serene indifference.
He tugged at his collar as he entered the noise and heat of the party. He’d come that close to being caught by the Hind and the Harpy—to getting Day caught by them.
Ruhn didn’t say goodbye to anyone before bailing.
Hunt licked his way up Bryce’s neck, a hand sliding over her mouth to muffle her moan as he tugged her down the dim hallway. “You want someone to find us?” His voice was guttural.
“We’re official now. I don’t care.” But she fumbled with the handle of the cloakroom door. Standing behind her, mouth at her throat, Hunt suppressed a groan of his own as her ass pushed into his aching cock. Another few seconds, and they’d be in the cloakroom. And within a few seconds of that, he planned to be balls-deep in her.
He knew Baxian and Naomi had been well aware they weren’t going down this hall to use the bathroom, but the angels guarding the door had only smirked at them.
“It’s locked,” she mumbled, and Hunt huffed a laugh against her warm skin.
“Good thing you’ve got a big, tough alphahole with you, Quinlan,” he said, pulling away from her. Gods, if anyone walked down this hallway, they’d get a glimpse at his pants and know what was about to go down. He’d lasted all of three dances before needing to slip away with her. They’d return to the party soon. Once they got in a good, solid fuck.
He’d be damned if he’d ever call himself Prince Hunt, but … it had been worth it. The wild plan she’d spun for him more than two weeks ago, when she’d honored him by asking if he’d do this.
Hunt dragged his teeth down the column of her neck, then tugged her a step back. Bryce, panting softly, face flushed with desire that set his cock pounding, grinned fiendishly at him.
“Watch and learn, sweetheart,” Hunt said, and rammed his shoulder into the door.
The lock splintered, and Hunt didn’t hesitate before tugging her in with him. Her arms slid around his neck, all of her lining up with him, and he hefted her leg to wrap around his waist, bracing to hoist her up—
A squeak of surprise halted him.
Hunt whirled, mind trying to match up with what his senses were blaring.
But there it was. There they were.
Celestina’s dress had been tugged down, baring one full, round breast. Gleaming as if someone had been licking it.
But it wasn’t Ephraim who stood before the Archangel, positioned between the female and Hunt. It wasn’t Ephraim whose own clothes were askew, hair mussed, lips swollen.
It was Hypaxia.
Hunt had no idea what to say.
Bryce cleared her throat and stepped in front of Hunt, blocking his raging erection from view. “I guess the locked door means already occupied, huh?”
Hypaxia and Celestina just stared at them, their hair half falling out of their elegant arrangements.
Hunt slowly, quietly shut the door behind them. Lifted his hands. Because that was a faint glow of power beginning to shimmer around Celestina. An Archangel’s wrath, priming to strike down any enemy.
Hunt couldn’t stop his own lightning from answering, its zap searing through him. If Celestina was going to throw down, he’d match her.
Bryce said breathlessly to Hypaxia, as she sensed the brewing storm in the cloakroom, “I’ve, uh, never been in this kind of situation before.”
Hypaxia glanced to the Governor, whose eyes had turned white, flaring with power, and said to Bryce, an attempt at casualness, “Me neither.”
The only way in and out was the door at Hunt’s back. Unless Celestina blasted apart the entire top of the building. Hunt put a hand on Bryce’s shoulder.
But his mate said brightly, “In case we need to clarify, we aren’t going to say anything.”
Hypaxia nodded sagely. “We thank you.” She peered up at the Archangel—at her lover. “Celestina.”
The Governor didn’t take her gaze from Hunt. If he so much as breathed wrong, she’d kill him. In two fucking seconds. Hunt grinned, though. She could try to kill him. “My lips are sealed.”
Her wings glowed, so bright the entire cloakroom was illuminated. “You endanger the person I love,” Celestina said, her voice echoing with power. “For infringing on what he considers his, Ephraim will end her. Or the Asteri will kill her to make a statement.”
Bryce kept her hands up. “The Asteri are probably going to kill me, too, at some point.” Hunt whipped his head to her. She wouldn’t— “I like you,” she said instead, and Hunt tried not to sag with relief that she hadn’t explained their rebel activities. “I think you’re good for this city. Ephraim and his loser cabal, not so much, but once he’s gone home, I think you’re going to make Lunathion even more … awesome.” Hunt threw her an incredulous look. She shrugged. Bryce’s eyes met Celestina’s. Her star flared.