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“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 another spot on the map, her green eyes lifting from it only to note Hunt’s hand as well. Wariness flooded her stare, but she said, “This was its last known location, at least as far as what our cameras could find.” The Rose Gate in FiRo. Nowhere near Sabine’s territory. “As I said, one moment it was there, then it was gone. I’ve had two different units and one Auxiliary pack hunting for it all day, but no luck.”

Hunt’s hand slid from her leg, leaving a cold spot in its wake. A glance at his face and she saw the cause: Viktoria now held his gaze, her own full of warning.

Bryce tapped her dusky nails on the chrome arm of the chair.

Well, at least she knew what they were doing after dinner tonight.

41

The rain didn’t halt.

Hunt couldn’t decide if it was a blessing, since it kept the streets mostly empty of all save Vanir affiliated with water, or if it was shit-poor luck, since it certainly wiped away any chance of a scent from the demon prowling the streets.

“Come … on,” Bryce grunted.