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Declan chuckled. “Hey, Athalar. Enjoying playing houseguest with Bryce?”
“Just tell us,” Bryce said, grinding her teeth. Taking a big, careful step away from Hunt.
“Someone swapped the footage of the temple during the time of the Horn’s theft. It was clever fucking work—they patched it right in so that there isn’t so much as a flicker in the time stamp. They picked audio footage that was a near-match for what it would have sounded like at the temple, with the angle of the buildings and everything. Really smart shit. But not smart enough. The 33rd should have come to me. I’d have found an error like that.”
Bryce’s heart pounded. “Can you find who did this?”
“I already did.” Any smugness faded from Declan’s voice. “I looked at who was responsible for heading up the investigation of the video footage that night. They’d be the only one with the clearance to make a swap like that.”
Bryce tapped her foot on the ground, and Athalar brushed his wing against her shoulder in quiet reassurance. “Who is it, Dec?”
Declan sighed. “Look, I’m not saying it’s this person one hundred percent … but the official who headed up that part of the investigation was Sabine Fendyr.”
PART III
THE CANYON
38
“It makes sense,” Hunt said carefully, watching Bryce where she sat on the rolled arm of her sofa, chewing on her lower lip. She’d barely thanked Declan before hanging up.
Hunt said, “The demon has been staying out of view of the cameras in the city. Sabine would know where those cameras are, especially if she had the authority to oversee the video footage of criminal cases.”
Sabine’s behavior earlier tonight … He’d wanted to kill her.
He’d seen Bryce laugh in the face of the Viper Queen, go toe-to-toe with Philip Briggs, and taunt three of the most lethal Fae warriors in this city—and yet she’d trembled before Sabine.
He hadn’t been able to stand it, her fear and misery and guilt.
When Bryce didn’t reply, he said again, “It makes sense that Sabine could be behind this.” He sat beside her on the sectional. He’d put on a shirt a moment ago, even though he’d enjoyed the look of pure admiration on Bryce’s face as she got an eyeful of him.
“Sabine wouldn’t have killed her own daughter.”
“You really believe that?”
Bryce wrapped her arms around her knees. “No.” In a pair of sleeping shorts and an oversize, worn T-shirt, she looked young. Small. Tired.
Hunt said, “Everyone knows that the Prime was considering skipping over Sabine to tap Danika to be his heir. That seems like a good fucking motive to me.” He considered again, an old memory snagging his attention. He pulled out his phone and said, “Hold on.”
Isaiah answered on the third ring. “Yeah?”
“How easily can you access your notes from the observation room the night Danika died?” He didn’t let Isaiah reply before he said, “Specifically, did you write down what Sabine said to us?”
Isaiah’s pause was fraught. “Tell me you don’t think Sabine killed her.”
“Can you get me the notes?” Hunt pushed. Isaiah swore, but a moment later he said, “All right, I’ve got it.” Hunt moved closer to Quinlan so she could hear the commander’s voice as he said, “You want me to recite this whole thing?”
“Just what she said about Danika. Did you catch it?”
He knew Isaiah had. The male took extensive notes on everything.
“Sabine said, Danika couldn’t stay out of trouble.” Bryce stiffened, and Hunt laid his free hand on her knee, squeezing once. “She could never keep her mouth shut and know when to be quiet around her enemies. And look what became of her. That stupid little bitch in there is still breathing, and Danika is not. Danika should have known better. Hunt, you then asked her what Danika should have known better about, and Sabine said, All of it. Starting with that slut of a roommate.”
Bryce flinched, and Hunt rubbed his thumb over her knee. “Thanks, Isaiah.”
Isaiah cleared his throat. “Be careful.” The call ended.
Bryce’s wide eyes glimmered. “What Sabine said could be construed a lot of ways,” she admitted. “But—”
