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“McCarthy won’t respond unless I give him the order,” the Viper Queen drawled, walking to the male and running her manicured hands over his broad chest. Her metallic gold nails glinted against the black leather of his jacket. “But let me guess: Childhood friend? Handsome, poor Fae guard, spoiled little rich girl …” Her purple-painted lips curved in a smile, and she patted the male’s cheek, purring to him, “Is that why you came crawling to me? Would her daddy not let you court her?”

Tharion’s heart stalled at the pain that washed over Sathia’s face as she breathed, more to herself than to anyone, “Father said you had found a new position in Korinth.”

“Padraig Flynn has always been an excellent liar,” the Viper Queen said. “And a better client. He introduced me to McCarthy, of course.” She gestured to the blank-faced assassin.

Sathia paled. “Come home, Colin.” Her voice broke. “Please.”

Tharion had no idea how anyone, the drugged-out male included, could resist the pleading in that voice. Her face.

“It’s too late for that,” the Viper Queen said, and nodded to Tharion. “But you and I have unfinished business, mer.”

“Leave him alone,” Sathia snapped, teeth flashing as she stepped closer to Tharion. “Don’t you dare touch him.”

Tharion’s fingers slid toward hers, squeezing once in warning to be quiet.

“And what authority do you have, girl, to order me away from him?”

“I’m his wife,” Sathia spat.

The Viper Queen burst out laughing. And Tharion could have sworn that something like pain shown in McCarthy’s bright blue eyes—just a glimmer.

“You leave him alone,” Sathia said again, and vines curled at her fingers. “Him and Colin.”

“That’s not an option I’m interested in, girl,” the Viper Queen said, and inclined her head to one side. The assassins, Colin included, aimed their guns. Did he imagine it, or was McCarthy’s weapon trembling slightly?

Tharion sheathed his knife and held up his hands, again stepping in front of Sathia. “Your business is with me.”

He’d accomplished what he needed to with the River Queen. And if Sathia became a widow … she could remarry, by Fae law. Maybe even find some way to save that poor bastard McCarthy and marry him. So Tharion said, “Let her walk out of here before you put a bullet in my head.”

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you that quickly,” the Viper Queen said. “Not a chance, Ketos.”

She advanced a step, her assassins flowing with her.

“You take one more step toward my friend,” said a familiar female voice, “and you die.”

Tharion’s knees wobbled as he glanced over a shoulder—and found Hypaxia Enador striding in from the quay, Ithan Holstrom bristling with menace at her side.

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“I don’t take orders from former witch-queens,” the Viper Queen said. Her guards didn’t back down an inch. But Colin McCarthy’s gun was definitely trembling, like he was fighting the order with everything he had.

“What about from the Head of the House of Flame and Shadow?” Hypaxia countered. Tharion’s knees gave out abruptly at the greenish light that flared in her eyes.

Sathia caught him around the waist, grunting as she held him up.

Tharion whispered, “Pax?”

But his friend—this female who had been his friend from the moment they’d met each other at the Summit, who always seemed to see the real male beneath his veneer of charm—only glowered at the Viper Queen. “You touch him, or his friend, and you bring down the wrath of Flame and Shadow upon you.”

Holstrom stepped up to her side, brimming with power—with magic, cold and foreign—and added, “And the wrath of all Valbaran Wolves.”

There was only one person who could claim that.

The male before him was Prime. There was no doubt about it. But that strange power rippling from him … what the Hel was that?

The Viper Queen stared long and hard at Ithan, then at Hypaxia.

“Power shift,” she murmured, pulling a cigarette from her jumpsuit pocket and putting it in her mouth. “Interesting.” The cigarette bobbed with the word, and she lit it, taking a long drag. She fixed her snake’s eyes on Tharion. “Your bounty still stands.”