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The Viper Queen tore her eyes from a still-snarling Hunt and said sharply to Bryce, “I don’t use what I sell. Though I don’t think you live by that rule over at your fancy gallery.” She winked. “You ever get sick of crawling for that sorceress, come find me. I have a stable of clients who’d crawl for you. And pay to do it.”

Hunt’s hand was warm on her shoulder. “She’s not for sale.”

Bryce leaned out of his grip, throwing him a warning glare.

The Viper Queen said, “Everyone, General, is for sale. You just have to figure out the asking price.” Smoke flared from her nostrils, a dragon huffing flames. “Give me a day or two, Athalar, and I’ll figure out yours.”

Hunt’s smile was a thing of deadly beauty. “Maybe I’ve figured out yours already.”

The Viper Queen smiled. “I certainly hope so.” She stubbed out the cigarette and met Bryce’s stare. “Here’s a pro tip for your little investigation.” Bryce stiffened at the cool mockery. “Look toward where it hurts the most. That’s always where the answers are.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Bryce gritted out.

The shifter merely snapped her gold-tipped fingers. The office door opened, those venom-addicted Fae males peering in. “They’re done,” the Viper Queen said, turning on her antique of a computer. “Make sure they get outside.” And don’t go poking about.

Bryce shouldered the block of salt as Hunt snatched up the flash drive, pocketing it.

The guard was smart enough to step away as Hunt nudged Bryce through the door. Bryce made it three steps before the Viper Queen said, “Don’t underestimate the obsidian salt, Quinlan. It can bring over the very worst of Hel.”

A chill snaked down her spine. But Bryce merely lifted a hand in an over-the-shoulder wave as she entered the hall. “Well, at least I’ll be entertained, won’t I?”

They left the Meat Market in one piece, thank the five fucking gods—especially Urd herself. Hunt wasn’t entirely sure how they’d managed to walk away from the Viper Queen without their guts pumped full of poisoned bullets, but … He frowned at the red-haired woman now inspecting her white scooter for damage. Even the helmet had been left untouched.

Hunt said, “I believe her.” No way in Hel was he watching the video on that flash drive. He’d be sending it right over to Viktoria. “I don’t think she had anything to do with this.”

Quinlan and Roga, however … He hadn’t yet crossed them off his mental list.

Bryce tucked the helmet into the crook of her arm. “I agree.”

“So that brings us back to square one.” He suppressed the urge to pace, picturing his kill count still in the thousands.

“No,” Bryce countered. “It doesn’t.” She fastened the bag of salt into the small compartment on the back of her scooter. “She said to look where it hurts most for answers.”

“She was just spewing some bullshit to mess with us.”

“Probably,” Bryce said, fitting the helmet over her head before flicking up the visor to reveal those amber eyes. “But maybe she was unintentionally right. Tomorrow …” Her eyes shuttered. “I’ve got to do some thinking tomorrow. At the gallery, or else Jesiba will throw a fit.”

He was intrigued enough that he said, “You think you have a lead?”

“Not yet. A general direction, though. It’s better than nothing.”

He jerked his chin toward the compartment of her scooter. “What’s the obsidian salt for?” She had to have another purpose for it. Even if he prayed she wasn’t dumb enough to use it.

Bryce just said blandly, “Seasoning my burgers.”

Fine. He’d walked into that. “How’d you afford the salt, anyway?” He doubted she had ten grand just sitting around in her bank account.

Bryce zipped up her leather jacket. “I put it on Jesiba’s account. She spends more money on beauty products in a month, so I doubt she’ll notice.”

Hunt had no idea how to even respond to any of that, so he gritted his teeth and surveyed her atop her ride. “You know, even a scooter is a dumb fucking thing to drive before making the Drop.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“You should take the bus.”

She just let out a barking laugh, and zoomed off into the night.

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