He knew that fair voice—its steady, calm cadence. He peered over his shoulder to find the medwitch from the clinic standing behind him, her curly dark hair loose around her striking face. But her eyes were upon the blood. “Its venom lies in its saliva,” she said, “but we don’t know what other horrors might be in the blood itself.”

“It hasn’t affected the moss,” he said.

“Yes, but this was a demon bred for specific purposes. Its blood might be harmless to non-sentient life, but be dangerous to everything else.”

Ruhn started. “You recognized the demon?”

The witch blinked, as if she’d been caught. “I had very old tutors, as I told you. They required me to study ancient texts.”

Ruhn rose to his feet. “We could have used you years ago.”

“I had not completed my training then.” A nonanswer. Ruhn’s brow furrowed. The witch took a step back. “I was thinking, Prince,” she said, continuing her retreat. “About what you asked me. I looked into it, and there is some potential … research. I have to leave the city for a few days to attend to a personal matter, but when I return and fully review it, I will send it to you.”

“Ruhn!” Flynn’s shout cut through the chaos of the investigatory team around them.

Ruhn glanced over a shoulder to tell his friend to wait for two gods-damned seconds, but motion from the witch caught his eye.

He hadn’t seen the broom she’d stashed beside the tree, but he certainly saw it now as she shot into the night sky, her hair a dark curtain behind her.

“Who was that?” Flynn asked, nodding toward the vanishing witch.

“I don’t know,” Ruhn said quietly, staring after her into the night.

Chapter Forty-Seven

47

The storm hit when they were two blocks from Bryce’s building, soaking them within seconds. Pain lanced through Hunt’s forearm and shoulder as he landed on the roof, but he swallowed it down. Bryce was still shaking, her face distant enough that he didn’t immediately let go when he set her upon the rain-soaked tiles.

She peered up at him when his arms remained around her waist.

Hunt couldn’t help the thumb he swept over her ribs. Couldn’t stop himself from doing it a second time.

She swallowed, and he tracked every movement of her throat. The raindrop that ran over her neck, her pulse pounding delicately beneath it.

Before he could react, she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him. Held him tightly. “Tonight sucked,” she said against his soaked chest.

Hunt slid his arms around her, willing his warmth into her trembling body. “It did.”

“I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Hunt chuckled, letting himself bury his face against her neck. “So am I.”