Bryce pushed off the wall. “How the Hel do you do that?”
Cormac slicked back his blond hair. “You have to picture where you want to go. Then simply allow yourself to take that step. As if you’re folding two points on a piece of paper so that the two points can meet.”
“Like a wormhole,” Hunt mused, wings rustling.
Cormac waved a dismissive hand. “Wormhole, teleportation, yes. Whatever you want to call it.”
Bryce blew out an impressed breath. But it didn’t explain— “How’d you know where to find me and Ruhn?”
“I was on my way to meet you, remember?” Cormac rolled his eyes, as if she should have figured it out by now. Asshole. “I saw you run into the sewer, and I did some mental calculations for the jump. Thankfully, they were right.”
Hunt let out an approving grunt, but said nothing.
So Bryce said, “You’re going to teach me how to do that. Teleport.”
Hunt whipped his head to her. But Cormac simply nodded. “If it’s within your wheelhouse, I will.”
Hunt blurted, “I’m sorry, but Fae can just do this shit?”
“I can do this shit,” Cormac countered. “If Bryce has as much Starborn ability as she seems to, she might also be able to do this shit.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the Super Powerful and Special Magic Starborn Princess,” Bryce answered, waggling her eyebrows.
Cormac said, “You should treat your title and gifts with the reverence they are due.”
“You sound like a Reaper,” she said, and leaned against Hunt. He tucked her into his side. Her clothes were still soaked. And smelled atrocious.
But Hunt didn’t so much as sniff as he asked Cormac, “Where did you inherit the ability from?”
Cormac squared his shoulders, every inch the proud prince as he said, “It was once a gift of the Starborn. It was the reason I became so … focused on attaining the Starsword. I thought my ability to teleport meant that the bloodline had resurfaced in me, as I’ve never met anyone else who can do it.” His eyes guttered as he added, “As you know, I was wrong. Some Starborn blood, apparently, but not enough to be worthy of the blade.”
Bryce wasn’t going to touch that one. So she retied her wet hair into a tight bun atop her head. “What are the odds that I have the gift, too?”
Cormac gave her a slashing smile. “Only one way to find out.”
Bryce’s eyes glowed with the challenge. “It would be handy.”
Hunt murmured, his voice awed, “It would make you unstoppable.”
Bryce winked at Hunt. “Hel yeah, it would. Especially if those Reapers weren’t full of shit about the Prince of the Pit sending them to challenge me to some epic battlefield duel. Worthy opponent, my ass.”
“You don’t believe the Prince of the Pit sent them?” Cormac asked.
“I don’t know what I believe,” Bryce admitted. “But we need to confirm where those Reapers came from—who sent them—before we make any moves.”
“Fair enough,” Hunt said.
Bryce went on, “Beyond that, this is twice now that we’ve gotten warnings about Hel’s armies being ready. Apollion’s a little heavy-handed for my tastes, but I guess he really wants to get the point across. And wants me leveled up by the time all Hel breaks loose. Literally, I guess.”
Bryce knew there was no fucking way she’d ever stand against the Star-Eater and live, not if she didn’t expand her understanding of her power. Apollion had killed a fucking Asteri, for gods’ sakes. He’d obliterate her.
She said to Cormac, “Tomorrow night. You. Me. Training center. We’ll try out this teleporting thing.”
“Fine,” the prince said.
Bryce picked lingering dirt from beneath her nails and sighed. “I could have lived without Hel getting mixed up in this. Without Apollion apparently wanting in on Sofie’s and Emile’s powers.”
“Their powers,” Cormac said, face thunderous, “are a gift and a curse. I’m not surprised at all that so many people want them.”
Hunt frowned. “And you really think you’re going to find Emile just hanging around here?”
The prince glowered at the angel. “I don’t see you combing the docks for him.”
“No need,” Hunt drawled. “We’re going to search for him without lifting a finger.”
Cormac sneered, “Using your lightning to survey the city?”
Hunt didn’t fall for the taunt. “No. Using Declan Emmett.”
Leaving the males to their posturing, Bryce pulled out her phone and dialed. Jesiba answered on the second ring. “What?”
Bryce smiled. Hunt half turned toward her at the sound of the sorceress’s voice. “Got any Death Marks lying around?”
Hunt hissed, “You can’t be serious.”
Bryce ignored him as Jesiba answered, “I might. Plan on taking a trip, Quinlan?”
“I hear the Bone Quarter’s gorgeous this time of year.”
Jesiba chuckled, a rolling, sultry sound. “You do amuse me every now and then.” Pause. “You have to pay for this one, you know.”
“Send the bill to my brother.” Ruhn would have a conniption, but he could deal.
Another soft chuckle. “I only have two. And it’ll take until tomorrow morning for them to reach you.”
“Fine. Thanks.”
The sorceress said a shade gently, “You won’t find any traces of Danika left in the Bone Quarter, you know.”
Bryce tensed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I thought you were finally going to start asking questions about her.”
Bryce clenched the phone hard enough for the plastic to groan. “What sort of questions?” What the fuck did Jesiba know?
A low laugh. “Why don’t you start by wondering why she was always poking around the gallery?”
“To see me,” Bryce said through her teeth.
“Sure,” Jesiba said, and hung up.
Bryce swallowed hard and pocketed her phone.
Hunt was slowly shaking his head. “We’re not going to the Bone Quarter.”
“I agree,” Cormac grumbled.
“You’re not going at all,” she said sweetly to Cormac. “We’ll only have two fares, and Athalar is my plus-one.” The prince bristled, but Bryce turned to Hunt. “When the coins arrive tomorrow, I want to be ready—have as much information as possible about where those Reapers came from.”
Hunt folded his wings behind him, feathers rustling. “Why?”
“So the Under-King and I can have an informed heart-to-heart.”
“What was that shit Jesiba said about Danika?” Hunt asked warily.
Bryce’s mouth hardened into a thin line. Jesiba did and said nothing without reason. And while she knew she’d never get answers out of her old boss, at least this nudge was something to go on. “Turns out we’re going to have to ask Declan for an additional favor.”
That night, still reeling from the events of the day, Ruhn flipped through the channels on the TV until he found the sunball game, then set down the remote and swigged from his beer.