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They glowered at each other, and Bryce could have sworn lightning forked across his eyes. But they’d reached the door, which opened into—
She’d been expecting the plush opulence of Griffin Antiquities hidden behind that door: gilded mirrors and velvet divans and silk drapes and a carved oak desk as old as this city.
Not this … mess. It was barely better than the stockroom of a dive bar. A dented metal desk occupied most of the cramped space, a scratched purple chair behind it—tufts of stuffing poking out of the upper corner, and the pale green paint peeled off the wall in half a dozen spots. Not to mention the water stain gracing the ceiling, made worse by the thrumming fluorescent firstlights. Against one wall stood an open shelving unit filled with everything from files to crates of liquor to discarded guns; on the opposite, stacked cardboard boxes rose above her head.
One glance at Hunt and Bryce knew he was thinking the same: the Viper Queen, mistress of the underworld, feared poisons expert and ruler of the Meat Market, claimed this hovel as an office?
The female slid into the chair, interlacing her fingers atop the mess of papers strewn across the desk. A computer that was about twenty years out of date sat like a fat rock before her, a little statue of Luna poised atop it, the goddess’s bow aimed at the shifter’s face.
One of her guards shut the door, prompting Hunt’s hand to slide toward his hip, but Bryce had already taken a seat in one of the cheap aluminum chairs.
“Not as fancy as your boss’s place,” the Viper Queen said, reading the disbelief on Bryce’s face, “but it does the trick.”
Bryce didn’t bother agreeing that the space was far from anything befitting a serpentine shifter whose snake form was a moon-white cobra with scales that gleamed like opals—and whose power was rumored to be … different. Something extra that mixed with her venom, something strange and old.
Hunt took a seat beside her, twisting the chair frontward to accommodate his wings. Roaring from the fighting pit rumbled through the concrete floor beneath their feet.
The Viper Queen lit another cigarette. “You’re here to ask about Danika Fendyr.”
Bryce kept her face neutral. To his credit, Athalar did, too.
Hunt said carefully, “We’re trying to get a clearer picture of everything.”
Her remarkable eyes narrowed with pleasure. “If that’s what you want to claim, then sure.” Smoke rippled from her lips. “I’ll spare you the bullshit, though. Danika was a threat to me, and in more ways than perhaps you know. But she was smart. Our relationship was a working one.” Another inhale. “I’m sure Athalar can back me up on this,” she drawled, earning a warning glare from him, “but to get shit done, sometimes the Aux and 33rd have to work with those of us who dwell in the shadows.”
Hunt said, “And Maximus Tertian? He was killed on the outskirts of your territory.”
“Maximus Tertian was a spoiled little bitch, but I would never be stupid enough to pick a fight with his father like that. I’d only stand to gain a headache.”
“Who killed him?” Bryce asked. “I heard you pulled in your people. You know something.”
“Just a precaution.” She flicked her tongue over her bottom teeth. “Us serps can taste when shit is about to go down. Like a charge in the air. I can taste it now—all over this city.”
Hunt’s lightning grumbled in the room. “You didn’t think to warn anyone?”
“I warned my people. As long as trouble doesn’t pass through my district, I don’t care what goes on in the rest of Lunathion.”
Hunt said, “Real noble of you.”
Bryce asked again, “Who do you think killed Tertian?”
She shrugged. “Honestly? It’s the Meat Market. Shit happens. He was probably coming here for drugs, and this is the price he paid.”
“What kind of drugs?” Bryce asked, but Hunt said, “Toxicology report says there were no drugs in his system.”
“Then I can’t help you,” the shifter said. “Your guess is as good as mine.” Bryce didn’t bother to ask about camera footage, not when the 33rd would have already combed through it.
The Viper Queen pulled something from a drawer and chucked it on the desk. A flash drive. “My alibis from the night Tertian was killed and from the days before and during Danika and her pack’s murders.”
Bryce didn’t touch the tiny metal drive, no bigger than a lipstick tube.
The Viper Queen’s lips curved again. “I was at the spa the night of Tertian’s murder. And as for Danika and the Pack of Devils, one of my associates threw a Drop party for his daughter that night. Turned into three days of … well, you’ll see.”
“This drive contains footage of you at a three-day orgy?” Hunt demanded.
“Let me know if it gets you hot and bothered, Athalar.” The Viper Queen took another hit of the cigarette. Her green eyes drifted toward his lap. “I hear you’re one Hel of a ride when you pause the brooding long enough.”
Oh please. Hunt’s teeth flashed as he bared them in a silent snarl, so Bryce said, “Orgy and Hunt’s bedroom prowess aside, you’ve got a salt vendor in this market.” She tapped the bag balanced on her knees.
