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“And did you ever learn,” Micah went on, “what Danika did for Redner Industries?”
Bryce still crawled backward up the stairs. There was nowhere to go, though. “She did part-time security work.”
“Is that how she sanitized it for you?” He smirked. “Danika tracked down the people that Redner wanted her to find. People who didn’t want to be found. Including a group of Ophion rebels who had been experimenting with a formula for synthetic magic—to assist in the humans’ treachery. They’d dug into long-forgotten history and learned that the kristallos demons’ venom nullified magic—our magic. So these clever rebels decided to look into why, isolating the proteins that were targeted by that venom. The source of magic. Redner’s human spies tipped him off, and out Danika went to bring in the research—and the people behind it.”
Bryce gasped for breath, still slowly crawling upward. No one spoke in the conference room as she said, “The Asteri don’t approve of synthetic magic. How did Redner even get away with doing the research on it?”
Hunt shook. She was buying herself time.
Micah seemed all too happy to indulge her. “Because Redner knew the Asteri would shut down any synthetic magic research, that I would shut their experiments down, they spun synth experiments as a drug for healing. Redner invited me to invest. The earliest trials were a success: with it, humans could heal faster than with any medwitch or Fae power. But later trials did not go according to plan. Vanir, we learned, went out of their minds when given it. And humans who took too much synth … well. Danika used her security clearance to steal footage of the trials—and I suspect she left it for you, didn’t she?”
Burning Solas. Up and up, Bryce crawled along the stairs, fingers scrabbling over those ancient, precious books. “How did she learn what you were really up to?”
“She always stuck her nose where it didn’t belong. Always wanting to protect the meek.”
“From monsters like you,” Bryce spat, still inching upward. Still buying herself time.
Micah’s smile was hideous. “She made no secret that she kept an eye on the synth trials, because she was keen to find a way to help her weak, vulnerable, half-human friend. You, who would inherit no power—she wondered if it might give you a fighting chance against the predators who rule this world. And when she saw the horrors the synth could bring about, she became concerned for the test subjects. Concerned for what it’d do to humans if it leaked into the world. But Redner’s employees said Danika had her own research there, too. No one knew what, but she spent time in their labs outside of her own duties.”
All of it had to be on the flash drive Bryce had found. Hunt prayed she’d put it somewhere safe. Wondered what other bombshells might be on it.
Bryce said, “She was never selling the synth on that boat, was she?”
“No. By that point, I’d realized I needed someone with unrestricted access to the temple to take the Horn—I would be too easily noticed. So when she stole the synth trial footage, I had my chance to use her.”
Bryce made it up another step. “You dumped the synth into the streets.”
Micah kept trailing her. “Yes. I knew Danika’s constant need to be the hero would send her running after it, to save the low-lifes of Lunathion from destroying themselves with it. She got most of it, but not all. When I told her I’d seen her on the river, when I claimed no one would believe the Party Princess was trying to get drugs off the streets, her hands were tied. I told her I’d forget about it, if she did one little favor for me, at just the right moment.”
“You caused the blackout that night she stole the Horn.”
“I did. But I underestimated Danika. She’d been wary of my interest in the synth long before I leaked it onto the streets, and when I blackmailed her into stealing the Horn, she must have realized the connection between the two. That the Horn could be repaired by synth.”
“So you killed her for it?” Another step, another question to buy herself time.
“I killed her because she hid the Horn before I could repair it with the synth. And thus help my people.”
“I’d think your power alone would be enough for that,” Bryce said, as if trying flattery to save herself.
The Archangel looked truly sad for a moment. “Even my power is not enough to help them. To keep war from Valbara’s shores. For that, I need help from beyond our own world. The Horn will open a portal—and allow me to summon an army to decimate the human rebels and end their wanton destruction.”
“What world?” Bryce asked, blanching. “Hel?”
“Hel would resist kneeling to me. But ancient lore whispers of other worlds that exist that would bow to a power like mine—and bow to the Horn.” He smiled, cold as a deep-sea fish. “The one who possesses the Horn at full power can do anything. Perhaps establish oneself as an Asteri.”
“Their power is born, not made,” Bryce snapped, even as her face turned ashen.
“With the Horn, you would not need to inherit a star’s might to rule. And the Asteri would recognize that. Welcome me as one of them.” Another soft laugh.
“You killed those two CCU students.”
“No. They were slaughtered by a satyr high on synth—while Danika was busy stealing the Horn that night. I’m sure the guilt of it ate her up.”
Bryce was shaking. Hunt was, too. “So you went to the apartment and killed her and the Pack of Devils?”
“I waited until Philip Briggs was released.”
She murmured, “He had the black salt in his lab that would incriminate him.”
