Pollux and Baxian stared ahead at nothing. Or Hunt assumed that was the case, given that one of Baxian’s eyes was swollen shut, and Pollux’s face was one big magnificent bruise. That it remained this way after twelve hours suggested the initial damage had been impressive. He wished he could have seen it.
“We understand,” Isaiah said in that take-no-shit commander’s tone. “We share your disappointment.”
Celestina sighed. “Perhaps I was naïve in believing that I could introduce two Pangerans to this city without a more thorough education in its ways. To hand over the responsibility”—she glanced at Naomi, then at Hunt—“was my mistake.”
Hunt could have warned her about that. He kept his mouth shut.
“I would like to hear from you two, in your own words, about what happened,” the Archangel ordered Pollux and Baxian. The tone was pleasant, yet her eyes glinted with hidden steel. “Pollux? Why don’t you start?”
It was a thing of beauty, the way Pollux bristled in his seat, flowing golden hair still streaked with blood. The Hammer hated this. Absolutely fucking hated this, Hunt realized with no small amount of delight. Celestina’s kindness, her fairness, her softness … Pollux was chafing even worse than Hunt. He’d served enthusiastically under Sandriel—had relished her cruelty and games. Perhaps sending him to Celestina had been a punishment that even the Asteri had not anticipated.
But Pollux growled, “I was having some fun at a tavern.”
“Bar,” Hunt drawled. “We call them bars here.”
Pollux glared, but said, “The female was all over me. She said she wanted it.”
“Wanted what?” Celestina’s voice had taken on a decidedly icy tone.
“To fuck me.” Pollux leaned back in his chair.
“She said no such thing,” Baxian growled, wings shifting.
“And were you there every moment of the night?” Pollux demanded. “Though perhaps you were. You always pant after my scraps.”
Hunt met Isaiah’s wary stare. Some major tension had arisen between these two in the years since Hunt and Isaiah had left Sandriel’s territory.
Baxian bared his teeth in a feral grin. “Here I was, thinking your scraps were panting after me. They always seem so … unsatisfied when they leave your room.”
Pollux’s power—standard malakim magic, but strong—rattled the pretty trinkets along the built-in bookcase.
Celestina cut in, “That is enough.” Warm, summer-kissed power filled the room, smothering their own gifts. A feminine, unbreaking sort of magic—the kind that took no shit and would lay down the law if threatened. That was utterly unafraid of Pollux and the sort of male he was. She said to the Hammer, “Explain what happened.”
“We went into the alley behind the tavern”—he threw that last word at Hunt—“and she was all over me, as I said. Then the bastard”—he threw that one at Baxian—“attacked me.”
“And at what point did you not hear her say no?” Baxian challenged. “The first or the tenth time?”
Pollux snorted. “Some females say no when they want it. It’s a game for them.”
“You’re fucking delusional,” Naomi spat from across the room.
“Was I talking to you, hag?” Pollux snapped.
“Enough.” Celestina’s power again filled the room, stifling any magic they might have summoned. She asked Baxian, “Why did you go into the alley after him?”
“Because I’ve spent decades with this asshole,” Baxian seethed. “I knew what was about to happen. I wasn’t going to let him go through with it.”
“You did plenty of times under Sandriel,” Isaiah said, voice low. “You and your whole triarii stood back.”
“You don’t know shit about what I did or didn’t do,” Baxian snapped at Isaiah, then said to Celestina, “Pollux deserved the beating I gave him.”
The Hammer bared his teeth. Hunt could only watch in something like shock.
“That may be true,” Celestina said, “but the fact remains that you two are in my triarii and your fight was filmed. And it’s now online and being aired by every news station.” Her gaze sharpened on Pollux. “I offered the female the chance to press charges—but she declined. I can only assume she is aware of what a circus it would be, and is frightened of the consequences for herself and her loved ones. I plan to fix that in this city. This territory. Even if it means making an example of one of my triarii.”
Hunt’s blood roiled, howling. Maybe this would be it. Maybe Pollux would finally get what was coming to him.
But Celestina’s throat worked. “I received a call this morning, however, and have seen the wisdom in … granting you a second chance.”
“What?” Hunt blurted.
Pollux bowed his head in a mockery of gratitude. “The Asteri are benevolent masters.”
A muscle ticked in Celestina’s smooth cheek. “They are indeed.”
Naomi asked, “What about that one?” She gestured toward Baxian, who glared at her.
Celestina said, “I would like to grant you a second chance as well, Helhound.”
“I defended that female,” Baxian snapped.
“You did, and I commend you for that. But you did so in a public way that drew attention.” Not only the city’s attention. The Asteri’s.
Again, Celestina’s throat bobbed.
Isaiah asked a shade gently, “What can we do to help clean up this mess?”
She kept her stare on her wooden desk, thick lashes nearly grazing her high cheekbones. “It is already done. To give the media something else to focus on, the Asteri have blessed me with an opportunity. A gift.”
Even Pollux dropped his simpering bullshit to angle his head. Hunt braced himself. This couldn’t be good.
Celestina smiled, and Hunt saw it for the forced expression it was. “I am to mate Ephraim. With two Archangels now dead, there is a need to … replenish the ranks. On the Autumnal Equinox, we shall have our mating ceremony here in Lunathion.”
A month away. The holiday known as Death’s Day was a lively one, despite its name: it was a day of balance between the light and dark, when the veil between the living and dead was thinnest. Cthona began her preparations for her upcoming slumber then, but in Lunathion, raging costume parties were held along the Istros River at the various Sailing points. The biggest party of all surrounded the Black Dock, where lanterns were sent across the water to the Bone Quarter, along with offerings of food and drink. It had been a total shitshow every time Hunt had flown above the festivities. He could only imagine what Bryce would wear. Something as irreverent as possible, he imagined.
Celestina went on, “He shall stay here for a few weeks, then return to his territory. After that, he and I shall alternate visiting each other’s territories.” Until a baby was born, no doubt.
Naomi asked, “This is a good thing, right?”
Celestina again gave them that forced smile. “Ephraim has been my friend for many years and is a fair and wise male. I can think of no better partner.”
Hunt sensed the lie. But such was the lot of Archangels: should the Asteri decide they were to breed, they obeyed.