Had everything he’d told them been a trap? A long con to get them here?
Bryce said to Rigelus, drawing Hunt’s attention away, “There is no one else. But let’s talk about how you’re intergalactic parasites who trick us into making the Drop so you can feed off our firstlight. And then feed off our souls’ secondlight when we die.”
Hunt went still. He could have sworn someone behind him—Baxian or the Hind, perhaps—started.
Rigelus snorted. “Is this your way of telling your companions what you know?”
Bryce didn’t avert her gaze. “Hel yeah, it is. Along with the fact that if we destroy that core of firstlight beneath this palace—”
“Silence,” Rigelus hissed, and the room shuddered with power.
But Hunt’s mind reeled. The Asteri, the firstlight … Bryce caught his stare, her eyes brimming with rage and purpose. There was more, she seemed to say. So much more to be used against the Asteri.
Rigelus pointed at Ruhn. “I’m sure you could enlighten me as to who has been helping you. I know of Prince Cormac—I’d hoped his rebel activities might be of use someday. When we learned of his treachery, the others wanted to kill him and be done with it, but I thought it might be … valuable to see where and to whom he led us. A Prince of the Fae would no doubt wind up around other powerful Vanir, perhaps even try to recruit some of them, and thus root out the corruption among our most loyal subjects. So why kill one traitor, when we could eventually kill many? Alas, he’s dead now. That’s where my other siblings are—drawn out to the lab, as you no doubt expected. But they reported that another male was with the prince, and fled.”
Bryce made a low sound in her throat.
Rigelus turned to her. “Oh yes. Cormac incinerated himself and the lab. A great setback, considering how useful he was, but one we shall overcome, of course. Especially with Pippa Spetsos among the dead.”
At least Tharion had escaped unidentified.
“Perhaps we shall call in your father to assist with the questioning,” Rigelus went on to Ruhn, bored and cool. “He was so skilled at wielding his fire to get things out of you when you were a boy.”
Ruhn stiffened.
Hunt took in Bryce’s blood-flecked features. He’d only once seen this level of rage on her face. Not toward Rigelus, but the male who’d sired her. It was the same rage he’d beheld that day she’d killed Micah.
“Isn’t that what so many of the tattoos are for?” Rigelus continued. “To hide the scars he left on you? I’m afraid we’ll have to ruin some of the ink this time around.”
Fucking Hel. Bryce’s lips had gone white from pressing them together so hard. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
Ruhn looked at his sister and said softly, “You brought so much joy into my life, Bryce.”
It was perhaps the only goodbye they’d be able to make.
Hunt reached for Bryce’s fingers, but she stepped forward. Lifted her chin in that defiant, fuck-you way he loved so much. “You want me to open a portal for you? Fine. But only if you let them go and agree to leave them unharmed. Forever.”
Hunt’s blood iced over. “That was why you lured us here?” he found himself demanding of the Asteri, even as he roared with outrage at Bryce’s offer.
Rigelus said, “I couldn’t very well snatch you off the streets. Not such notorious, public figures. Not without the right charges to bring you in.” A smirk at Bryce. “Your friend Aidas will be terribly disappointed to learn you couldn’t tell the difference between the real Prince of the Chasm and myself. He’s terribly vain in that way.”
Hunt started, but Bryce seethed, “You pretended to be Aidas that night.”
“Who else could break through the wards on your apartment? You didn’t even suspect anything when he encouraged you toward rebellious activities. Though I suppose credit for that goes to me—I played his rage about Theia and Pelias quite well, don’t you think?”
Fuck. He’d anticipated their every move.
Rigelus went on, “And you didn’t even look that hard into the Reapers I sent from this city to nudge you. The Bone Quarter was a testing ground for your true power, you see—since you seemed to have little awareness or interest in it all summer. You were to hone your powers, all so we might put them to good use. You played along beautifully.”
Hunt’s fingers curled into fists. He should have seen it—should have pushed Bryce away from this mess, should have taken her at the first hint of trouble and gone to a place where no one could ever find them.
But this was Midgard. No matter where they went, no matter how far from Lunathion or the Eternal City, the Asteri would always find them.
Rigelus sighed dramatically at their stunned silence. “This all seems very familiar, doesn’t it? A Starborn queen who allied with a Prince of Hel. Who trusted him deeply, and ultimately paid the price.”
Hunt mastered himself enough to nod toward the seventh, always empty throne. “Hel got one on you in the end, though, I think.”
Rigelus’s body glowed with ire, but his voice remained silky smooth. “I look forward to facing Apollion again. Mordoc suspected that the Star-Eater had been trying to get your attention these past weeks—to prod you along in his own way.”
So one Prince of Hel had been a fake, the other true. Apollion really had sent the deathstalkers, presumably to test Bryce’s powers—just as Rigelus also wanted—and Hunt’s own. And wanted it so badly that he was willing to risk her death should she not be up to the task.
But she’d teleported that night. Used that ability to defeat the deathstalkers. Had started to grasp the gift and progressed in leaps and bounds since then. Literally.
Apollion must have known she’d need those skills. Perhaps for this very moment.
The gorsian chains on Bryce’s wrists were unlocked. If she could throw them off, she could get out. If the Hind could somehow get his own chains off, he’d block the Asteri and Bryce could keep running.
Hunt said, one last try, “You’re full of shit, and Mordoc should get his nose checked. We’re not rebels. Celestina can vouch for us.”
Rigelus laughed, and Hunt bristled. “Celestina? You mean the Archangel who reported to me that you’d lied about going to visit Miss Quinlan’s family a few weeks ago, and then reported to me immediately when she saw you leave the barracks heavily armed?” The words landed like a phantom punch to Hunt’s gut.
Love is a trap, Celestina had told him. Was this her way of protecting what she loved? Proving her trustworthiness to the Asteri by selling Hunt and his friends out so that they might react kindly if they learned about Hypaxia? Had she any idea the witch she loved was involved?
Rigelus seemed to read those questions on Hunt’s face, because he said, “She might have once been a friend of Shahar, Orion, but with so much personally on the line for her, she is no friend to you. At least, not when it comes to protecting those she cherishes most.”
“Why are you doing this?” Ruhn asked hoarsely.
Rigelus frowned with distaste. “It is a matter of survival.” A glance at Bryce. “Though her first task for us shall be one of … a personal matter, I think.”
“You’re going to attack Hel,” Hunt breathed. Was that what Apollion was anticipating? Why he’d kept telling them, again and again, that Hel’s armies were readying?