She could do far more than that, Bryce knew. Technically, Lehabah’s magic outranked Bryce’s own. But most non-humans could claim the same. And even while it was greater than Bryce’s, Lehabah’s power was still an ember compared to the Fae’s flames. Her father’s flames.

Bryce set down the client’s purchase papers. “It’s not that easy, Lele.”

“Syrinx told me you’re lonely. I could cheer you up.”

In answer, the chimera rolled onto his back, tongue dangling from his mouth, and snored.

“One, my building doesn’t allow fire sprites. Or water sprites. It’s an insurance nightmare. Two, it’s not as simple as asking Jesiba. She might very well get rid of you because I ask.”

Lehabah cupped her round chin in her hand and dripped another freckle of wax dangerously close to the paperwork. “She gave you Syrie.”

Cthona give her patience. “She let me buy Syrinx because my life was fucked up, and I lost it when she got bored with him and tried to sell him off.”

The fire sprite said quietly, “Because Danika died.”

Bryce closed her eyes for a second, then said, “Yeah.”

“You shouldn’t curse so much, BB.”

“Then you really won’t like the angel.”

“He led my people into battle—and he’s a member of my House. I deserve to meet him.”

“Last I checked, that battle went rather poorly, and the fire sprites were kicked out of Sky and Breath thanks to it.”

Lehabah sat up, legs crossed. “Membership in the Houses is not something a government can decree. Our expulsion was in name only.”

It was true. But Bryce still said, “What the Asteri and their Senate say goes.”

Lehabah had been guardian of the gallery’s library for decades. Logic insisted that ordering a fire sprite to watch over a library was a poor idea, but when a third of the books in the place would like nothing more than to escape, kill someone, or eat them—in varying orders—having a living flame keeping them in line was worth any risk. Even the endless chatter, it seemed.

Something thumped on the mezzanine. As if a book had dived off the shelf of its own accord.

Lehabah hissed toward it, turning a deep blue. Paper and leather whispered as the errant book found its place once again.

Bryce smiled, and then the office phone rang. One glance at the screen had her reaching for the phone and hissing at the sprite, “Back on your perch now.”

Lehabah had just reached the glass dome where she maintained her fiery vigil over the library’s wandering books when Bryce answered. “Afternoon, boss.”

“Any progress?”

“Still investigating. How’s Pangera?”

Jesiba didn’t bother answering, instead saying, “I’ve got a client coming in at two o’clock. Be ready. And stop letting Lehabah prattle. She has a job to do.” The line went dead.