“I did,” she said tightly.

“Gross. Just gross, Bryce.”

“Tell me about Danika wiping the floor with your pathetic ass.”

She could nearly hear his smile through the phone. “I don’t know how we got into it about you, but we did.”

“What’d you say?”

“Why are you assuming I did the instigating? Did you ever meet Danika? She had a mouth on her like I’ve never seen.” He clicked his tongue, the admiration in the noise making Bryce’s chest clench. “Anyway, I told her to tell you that I was sorry. She told me to go fuck myself, and fuck my apology.”

Bryce blinked. “She never told me she ran into you.”

“Ran into is an understatement.” He whistled. “She hadn’t even made the Drop, and she nearly kicked my balls across the lobby. Declan had to … involve himself to stop it.”

It sounded like Danika all right. Even if everything else she’d learned lately didn’t.

60

“It’s a stretch,” Hunt said an hour later from his spot beside her on the sectional. She’d filled him in on her latest theory, his brows rising with each word out of her mouth.

Bryce clicked through the pages on Redner Industries’ website. “Danika worked part-time at Redner. She rarely talked about the shit she did for them. Some kind of security division.” She pulled up the login page. “Maybe her old work account still has info on her assignments.”

Her fingers shook only slightly as she typed in Danika’s username, having seen it so many times on her phone in the past: dfendyr.

DFendyr—Defender. She’d never realized it until now. Fury’s harsh words rang through her head. Bryce ignored them.

She typed in one of Danika’s usual half-assed passwords: 1234567. Nothing.

“Again,” Hunt said warily, “it’s a stretch.” He leaned back against the cushions. “We’re better off doubling down with Danaan on looking for the Horn, not chasing down this drug.”

Bryce countered, “Danika was involved in this synth stuff and never said a word. You don’t think that’s weird? You don’t think there might be something more here?”

“She also didn’t tell you the truth about Philip Briggs,” Hunt said carefully. “Or that she stole the Horn. Keeping things from you could have been standard for her.”

Bryce just typed in another password. Then another. And another.

“We need the full picture, Hunt,” she said, trying again. She needed the full picture. “It all ties together somehow.”

But every password failed. Every one of Danika’s usual combinations.

Bryce shut her eyes, foot bouncing on the carpet as she recited, “The Horn could possibly be healed by the synth in a large enough dose. Synthetic magic has obsidian salt as one of its ingredients. The kristallos can be summoned by obsidian salt …” Hunt remained silent as she thought it through. “The kristallos was bred to track the Horn. The kristallos’s venom can eat away at magic. The medwitch wants some venom to test if it’s possible to create an antidote to synth with her magic or something.”

“What?”

Her eyes opened. “Ruhn told me.” She filled him in on Ruhn’s half-joking request for more venom to give the medwitch.

Hunt’s eyes darkened. “Interesting. If the synth is on the verge of becoming a deadly street drug … we should help her get the venom.”

“What about the Horn?”

His jaw tightened. “We’ll keep looking. But if this drug explodes—not just in this city but across the territory, the world … that antidote is vital.” He scanned her face. “How can we get our hands on some venom for her?”

Bryce breathed, “If we summon a kristallos—”

“We don’t take that risk,” Hunt snarled. “We’ll figure out how to get the venom another way.”

“I can handle myself—”

“I can’t fucking handle myself, Quinlan. Not if you might be in danger.”

His words rippled between them. Emotion glinted in his eyes, if she dared to read what was there.

But Hunt’s phone buzzed, and he lifted his hips off the couch to pull it from the back pocket of his pants. He glanced at the screen, and his wings shifted, tucking in slightly.

“Micah?” she dared ask.

“Just some legion shit,” he murmured, and stood. “I gotta head out for a few. Naomi will take watch.” He gestured to the computer. “Keep trying if you want, but let’s think, Bryce, before we do anything drastic to get our hands on that venom.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

It was apparently acceptance enough for Hunt to leave, but not before ruffling her hair and leaning down to whisper, his lips brushing the curve of her ear, “JJ would be proud of you.” Her toes curled in her slippers, and stayed that way long after he’d left.

After trying another few password options, Bryce sighed and shut the computer. They were narrowing in on it—the truth. She could feel it.

But would she be ready for it?

Her cycle arrived the next morning like a gods-damned train barreling into her body, which Bryce decided was fitting, given what day it was.

She stepped into the great room to find Hunt making breakfast, his hair still mussed with sleep. He stiffened at her approach, though. Then he turned, his eyes darting over her. His preternatural sense of smell missed nothing. “You’re bleeding.”

“Every three months, like clockwork.” Pure-blooded Fae rarely had a cycle at all; humans had it monthly—she’d somehow settled somewhere in between.

She slid onto a stool at the kitchen counter. A glance at her phone showed no messages from Juniper or Fury. Not even a message from her mom biting her head off about bailing on the medwitch appointment.

“You need anything?” Hunt extended a plate of eggs and bacon toward her. Then a cup of coffee.

“I took something for the cramps.” She sipped her coffee. “But thanks.”

He grunted, going back to plating his own breakfast. He stood on the other side of the counter and wolfed down a few bites before he said, “Beyond the synth stuff and the antidote, I think the Horn ties everything together. We should concentrate on looking for it. There hasn’t been a murder since the temple guard, but I doubt the person has dropped the search for it since they’ve already gone to such trouble. If we get our hands on the Horn, I still feel like the killer will save us the trouble of looking for them and come right to us.”

“Or maybe they found wherever Danika hid it already.” She took another bite. “Maybe they’re just waiting until the Summit or something.”

“Maybe. If that’s the case, then we need to figure out who has it. Immediately.”

“But even Ruhn can’t find it. Danika didn’t leave any hint of where she hid it. None of her last known locations were likely hiding spots.”

“So maybe today we go back to square one. Look at everything we’ve learned and—”

“I can’t today.” She finished off her breakfast and brought the plate over to the sink. “I’ve got some meetings.”