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Both Quinlan women scowled at him. That expression was the same, too.
Ember seemed to peer over their shoulders. “When was the last time you cleaned, Bryce Adelaide Quinlan?”
Bryce stiffened. “Twenty minutes ago.”
“I can see dust on that coffee table.”
“You. Can. Not.”
Ember’s eyes danced with devilish delight. “Does Athie know about JJ?”
Hunt couldn’t stop himself from going rigid. JJ—an ex? She hadn’t ever mentioned—Oh. Right. Hunt smirked. “Jelly Jubilee and I are good friends.”
Bryce grumbled something he chose not to hear.
Ember leaned closer to the screen. “All right, Hunt. If she showed you JJ, then she’s got to like you.” Bryce, mercifully, refrained from mentioning to her parents how he’d discovered her doll collection in the first place. Ember continued, “So tell me about yourself.”
Randall said flatly to his wife. “He’s Hunt Athalar.”
“I know,” Ember said. “But all I’ve heard are horrible war stories. I want to know about the real male. And get a straight answer about why you’re living in my daughter’s guest room.”
Bryce had warned him while they cleaned: Do not say a word about the murders.
But he had a feeling that Ember Quinlan could sniff out lies like a bloodhound, so Hunt smudged the truth. “Jesiba is working with my boss to find a stolen relic. With the Summit happening in two weeks, the barracks are overloaded with guests, so Bryce generously offered me a room to make working together easier.”
“Sure,” Ember said. “My daughter, who never once shared her precious Starlight Fancy toys with a single kid in Nidaros, but only let them look at the stupid things, offered up the entire guest room of her own goodwill.”
Randall nudged his wife with a knee, a silent warning, perhaps, of a man used to keeping the peace between two highly opinionated women.
Bryce said, “This is why I told him to have a drink before we dialed you.”
Ember sipped from her coffee. Randall picked up a newspaper from the table and began to flip through it. Ember asked, “So you won’t let us come visit this weekend because of this case?”
Bryce winced. “Yes. It’s not the sort of thing you guys could tag along on.”
A hint of the warrior shone through as Randall’s eyes sharpened. “It’s dangerous?”
“No,” Bryce lied. “But we need to be a little stealthy.”
“And bringing along two humans,” Ember said testily, “is the opposite of that?”
Bryce sighed at the ceiling. “Bringing along my parents,” she countered, “would undermine my image as a cool antiquities dealer.”
“Assistant antiquities dealer,” her mother corrected.
“Ember,” Randall warned.
Bryce’s mouth tightened. Apparently, this was a conversation they’d had before. He wondered if Ember saw the flicker of hurt in her daughter’s eyes.
It was enough that Hunt found himself saying, “Bryce knows more people in this city than I do—she’s a pro at navigating all this. She’s a real asset to the 33rd.”
Ember considered him, her gaze frank. “Micah is your boss, isn’t he?”
A polite way of putting what Micah was to him.
“Yeah,” Hunt said. Randall was watching him now. “The best I’ve had.”
Ember’s stare fell on the tattoo across his brow. “That’s not saying much.”
