She rolled her eyes. “This sunball-watching person doesn’t fit with my mental image of the Shadow of Death.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Hunt’s turn to lift a brow. “What do you think I do with my spare time?”

“I don’t know. I assumed you cursed at the stars and brooded and plotted revenge on all your enemies.”

She didn’t know the half of it. But Hunt let out a low chuckle. “Again, sorry to disappoint.”

Her eyes crinkled with amusement, the last of the day’s sun lighting them into liquid gold. He forced himself to monitor the streets around them.

They were a block from Bryce’s apartment when Hunt’s phone rang. She tensed, peering at his screen the same moment he did.

The phone rang a second time. They both stared at the name that popped up, pedestrians streaming past.

“You gonna answer it?” Bryce asked quietly.

It rang a third time.

Hunt knew. Before he hit the button, he knew.

Which was why he stepped away from Quinlan, putting the phone to his ear just as he said blandly, “Hi, boss.”

“I have work for you tonight,” Micah said.

Hunt’s gut twisted. “Sure.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting your fun with Miss Quinlan.”

“We’re good,” Hunt said tightly.

Micah’s pause was loaded. “What occurred in the lobby this morning is never to happen again. Understood?”

“Yes.” He bit out the word. But he said it—and meant it—because the alternative to Micah was now staying at the Governor’s residence in the Comitium. Because Sandriel would have drawn out his punishment for refusing to bow, for embarrassing her, for days, weeks. Months.

But Micah would give him this warning, and make him do this job tonight to remind him where the fuck he stood in the pecking order, and then that would be that.

“Good,” Micah said. “The file’s waiting at your room in the barracks.” He paused, as if sensing the question now burning through Hunt. “The offer still stands, Athalar. Don’t make me reconsider.” The call ended.

Hunt clenched his jaw hard enough to hurt.

Quinlan’s forehead wrinkled with concern. “Everything okay?”

Hunt slid the phone into his pocket. “It’s fine.” He resumed walking. “Just legion business.” Not a lie. Not entirely.

The glass doors to her building opened. Hunt nodded toward the lobby. “You head up. I’ve got something to do. I’ll call if we get the date and time for Briggs.”

Her amber eyes narrowed. Yeah, she saw right through it. Or rather, heard everything he wasn’t saying. Knew what Micah had ordered him to do.

But she said, “All right.” She turned toward the lobby, but added over her shoulder, “Good luck.”