House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1) - Sarah J. Maas Page 0,153

heritage, speaking of vineyards and carved marble palaces. But the grace with which Viktoria moved … Viktoria must have been old as Hel to have that sort of fluid beauty. To be able to steer her body so smoothly.

A halo had been tattooed on her brow as well. Bryce hid her surprise—her memory had failed to provide that detail. She knew the sprites had fought in the angels’ rebellion, but hadn’t realized any other non-malakim had marched under Shahar’s Daystar banner.

Warmth glowed in Viktoria’s eyes as she purred, “Pleasure.”

Somehow, Athalar only looked better soaked with rain, his shirt clinging to every hard, sculpted muscle. Bryce was all too aware, as she extended a hand, of how her hair now lay flat on her head thanks to the rain, of the makeup that had probably smeared down her face.

Viktoria took Bryce’s hand, her grip firm but friendly, and smiled. Winked.

Hunt grumbled, “She does that flirty smile with everyone, so don’t bother being flattered.”

Bryce settled into one of the twin black leather seats on the other side of the desk, batting her eyelashes at Hunt. “Does she do it for you, too?”

Viktoria barked a laugh, the sound rich and lovely. “You earned that one, Athalar.”

Hunt scowled, dropping into another chair—one with the back cut low, Bryce realized, to accommodate anyone with wings.

“Isaiah said you found something,” Hunt said, crossing an ankle over a knee.

“Yes, though not quite what you requested.” Viktoria came around the desk and handed a file to Bryce. Hunt leaned in to peer over her shoulder. His wing brushed against the back of Bryce’s head, but he didn’t remove it.

Bryce squinted at the grainy photo, the sole clawed foot in the lower right corner. “Is that—”

“Spotted in Moonwood just last night. I was tracking temperature fluctuations around the main avenues like you said, and noticed a dip—just for two seconds.”

“A summoning,” Hunt said.

“Yes,” Viktoria said. “The camera only got this tiny image of the foot—it mostly stayed out of sight. But it was just off a main avenue, like you suspected. We have a few more grainy captures from other locations last night, but those show it even less—a talon, rather than this entire foot.”

The photo was blurry, but there it was—those shredding claws she’d never forget.

It was an effort not to touch her leg. To remember the clear teeth that had ripped into it.

Both of them looked to her. Waiting. Bryce managed to say, “That’s a kristallos demon.”

Hunt’s wing spread a little farther around her, but he said nothing.

“I couldn’t find temperature fluctuations from the night of every murder,” Vik said, face turning grim. “But I did find one from when Maximus Tertian died. Ten minutes and two blocks away from him. No video footage, but it was the same seventy-seven-degree dip, made in the span of two seconds.”

“Did it attack anyone last night?” Bryce’s voice had turned a bit distant—even to her ears.

“No,” Viktoria said. “Not as far as we know.”

Hunt kept studying the image. “Did the kristallos go anywhere specific?”

Viktoria handed over another document. It was a map of Moonwood, full of sprawling parks and riverfront walkways, palatial villas and complexes for Vanir and a few wealthy humans, peppered with the best schools and many of the fanciest restaurants in town. In its heart: the Den. About six red dots surrounded it. The creature had crawled around its towering walls. Right in the heart of Sabine’s territory.

“Burning Solas,” Bryce breathed, a chill slithering along her spine.

“It would have found a way inside the Den’s walls if what it hunts was there,” Hunt mused quietly. “Maybe it was just following an old scent.”

Bryce traced a finger between the various dots. “No bigger pattern, though?”

“I ran it through the system and nothing came up beyond what you two figured out about the proximity to the ley lines beneath those roads and the temperature dips.” Viktoria sighed. “It seems like it was looking for something. Or someone.”

Blood and bone and gore, sprayed and shredded and in chunks—

Glass ripping into her feet; fangs ripping into her skin—

A warm, strong hand gently gripped her thigh. Squeezed once.

But when Bryce looked over at Hunt, his attention was upon Viktoria—even as his hand remained upon her bare leg, his wing still slightly curved around her. “How’d you lose track of it?”

“It was simply there one moment, and gone the next.”

Hunt’s thumb stroked her leg, just above her knee. An idle, reassuring touch.

One that was far too distracting as Viktoria leaned forward to tap