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“We tried,” Aidas said. “It did not have the same effect on their powers.”

“I’m sorry,” Hunt interrupted, “but are you implying that I was made by you two assholes? As some sort of pet?” He pointed to Thanatos, then to Apollion.

“Not a pet,” Apollion said darkly. “A weapon.” He nodded to Bryce. “For her, whenever she might come along.”

“But you didn’t know the timelines would overlap,” Bryce said a bit breathlessly.

“No. There were previous experiments,” Apollion said. “We hoped they would spread and multiply throughout Midgard, but the Asteri caught wind of our plan and removed them.”

“The thunderbirds,” Bryce said, gaping. “You guys made them, too?”

“We did,” Aidas said matter-of-factly, “and sent them through the cracks in the Northern Rift. But they were hunted to near-extinction generations ago. Blessing an angel with their power, a perfect soldier … it was a gift of poisoned honey. The Asteri believed they had somehow, through their selective breeding of the malakim, finally achieved a flawless soldier to serve them. That it was their own brilliance that brought someone like Hunt Athalar into the world.”

“But you rebelled,” Apollion said to Hunt with no small hint of pride. “You were too valuable to kill, but they wanted you broken. Your servitude was that attempt.”

Hunt could barely feel his body.

“Can we please rewind for a moment?” Bryce cut in. “You guys made the thunderbirds to complement my power—in case I never got the sword and knife, and if I ever needed a boost to open the Rift. But when they were hunted down, you … made Hunt, and then I was born …”

“Athalar was already enslaved by then,” Aidas said, “but we kept a close watch.”

Apollion nodded to Hunt. “Why do you think you’re so adept at hunting demons? It’s in your blood—part of me is in your blood.”

Nausea clawed its way up Hunt’s throat. The thought of owing anything at all to the Prince of the Pit …

“Just as he gave over some of his essence for the kristallos,” Thanatos said, “so he gave something to me for you. His Helfire.”

“Helfire?” Bryce demanded.

“The lightning,” Thanatos said, waving an irritated hand. “Capable of killing almost anything. Even an Asteri.”

“That’s how you killed Sirius?” Bryce asked. “With your … Helfire?”

“Yes,” Apollion said, then added to Hunt, “Your name was a nod to that, whispered in your mother’s ear as you were born. Orion … master of Sirius.”

“Clever,” Hunt snapped, then demanded, “Wait—my lightning can kill the Asteri?” Hope bloomed, bright and beautiful in his chest.

“No,” Apollion said. “It is … diluted from my own. It could harm them, but not kill them. I believe your mother’s angelic blood tempered my power.”

That hope withered. And something darker took its place as he asked, “How did my mother play into this?” He could handle some genetic meddling, but—

“There was a scientist at the Asteri Archives,” Aidas said. “An angel who was delving into the origins of the thunderbirds, how strange their power was. He named the project after a near-forgotten god of storms.”

“Project Thurr,” Bryce said. “Was Danika investigating it, too? I found mentions of it, after she died.”

“I don’t know,” Aidas said, “but the angel was researching thunderbirds at the behest of the Asteri, who worried they might return. It led him to us instead. When we told him the truth, he offered to help in whatever way he could. Thanatos was finishing up his work then. And with a male volunteer, only a female to breed with was needed.”

Hunt couldn’t breathe. Bryce laid a hand on his knee.

“Your father knew your mother briefly,” Aidas said. “And he knew having a partner would help lift her from her poverty. He had every intention of staying. Of leaving behind his life and raising you in secret.”

Hunt could barely ask, “What happened?”

“The mystics told Rigelus of your father’s connection to us. They didn’t discover everything—nothing about you or your mother. Only that he had been speaking to us. Rigelus had him brought in, tortured, and executed.”

Hunt’s heart stalled.

“He didn’t break,” Apollion said with something like kindness. “He never mentioned your mother, or her pregnancy. The Asteri never knew you were tied to him in any way.”