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Silence rippled around them. Bryce’s stomach dropped.
Hunt swore. “I’m gonna take a guess and say he was on duty the night the Horn was stolen?”
Isaiah nodded. “It was the first thing I checked.”
Bryce swallowed and said, “We have to be getting close to something, then. Or the murderer is already one step ahead of us, interrogating and then killing anyone who might have known where the Horn disappeared to.”
“None of the cameras caught anything?” Flynn asked, his handsome face unusually serious.
“Nothing,” Isaiah said. “It’s like it knew where they were. Or whoever summoned it did. It stayed out of sight.”
Hunt ran his hand up the length of her spine, a solid, calming sweep, and then stepped toward the Commander of the 33rd, his voice low as he said, “To know every camera in this city, especially the hidden ones, would require some clearance.” His words hung there, none of them daring to say more, not in public. Hunt asked, “Did anyone report a sighting of a demon?”
A DNA technician emerged from the screen, blood staining the knees of her white jumpsuit. Like she’d knelt in it while she gathered the sample kit dangling from her gloved fingers.
Bryce glanced away again, back toward Main Street.
Isaiah shook his head. “No reports from civilians or patrols yet.”
Bryce barely heard him as the facts poured into her mind. Main Street.
She pulled out her phone, drawing up the map of the city. Her location pinged, a red dot on the network of streets.
The males were still talking about the scant evidence when she placed a few pins in the map, then squinted at the ground beneath them. Ruhn had drifted over, falling into conversation with his friends as she tuned them out.
But Hunt noted her focus and turned toward her, his dark brows high. “What?”
She leaned into the shadow of his wing, and could have sworn he folded it more closely around her. “Here’s a map of where all the murders happened.”
She allowed Ruhn and his friends to prowl near. Even deigned to show them her screen, her hands shaking slightly.
“This one,” she said, pointing to the blinking dot, “is us.” She pointed to another, close by. “This is where Maximus Tertian died.” She pointed to another, this one near Central Avenue. “This is the acolyte’s murder.” Her throat constricted, but she pushed past it as she pointed to the other dot, a few blocks due north. “Here’s where …” The words burned. Fuck. Fuck, she had to say it, voice it—
“Danika and the Pack of Devils were killed,” Hunt supplied.
Bryce threw him a grateful glance. “Yes. Do you see what I see?”
“No?” Flynn said.
“Didn’t you go to some fancy Fae prep school?” she asked. At Flynn’s scowl, she sighed, zooming out on the screen. “Look: all of them took place within steps of one of the major avenues. On top of the ley lines—natural channels for the firstlight to travel through the city.”
“Highways of power,” Hunt said, his eyes shining. “They flow right through the Gates.” Yeah, Athalar got it. He aimed for where Isaiah stood twenty feet away, talking to a tall, blond nymph in a forensics jacket.
Bryce said to the Fae males, to her wide-eyed brother, “Maybe whoever is summoning this demon is drawing upon the power of these ley lines under the city to have the strength to summon it. If all the murders take place near them, maybe that’s how the demon appeared.”
One of the Aux team called Ruhn’s name, and her brother merely gave her an impressed nod before going over to them. She ignored what that admiration did to her, turning her gaze to Hunt instead as he kept walking down the alley, the powerful muscles of his legs shifting. She heard him call to Isaiah as he walked toward the commander, “Have Viktoria run a search on the cameras along Main, Central, and Ward. See if they catch any blip of power—any small surge or drop in temperature that might happen if a demon were summoned.” The kristallos might stay out of sight, but surely the cameras would pick up a slight disturbance in the power flow or temperature. “And have her look at the firstlight grid around those times, too. See if anything registered.”
Declan watched the angel stride off, then said to Bryce, “You know what he does, right?”
“Look really good in black?” she said sweetly.
Declan growled. “That demon-hunting is a front. He does the Governor’s dirty work.” His chiseled jaw clenched for a second. “Hunt Athalar is bad news.”
She batted her eyelashes. “Good thing I like bad boys.”
Flynn let out a low whistle.
But Declan shook his head. “The angels don’t give a shit about anyone, B. His goals are not your goals. Athalar’s goals might not even be the same as Micah’s. Be careful.”
