Gray Witch (Black Hat Bureau 5)

“Oof.”

Lungs screaming for oxygen, I coughed out a garbled answer.

“She’s fine.” Clay wedged us apart. “Or she will be, if you let her breathe.”

Glee sparking in his eyes, the daemon bounced on the balls of his feet. “You have fun?”

In no universe would I ever consider him fighting for his life fun, but he was high on victory, and the final event did brighten my day. Really, I didn’t feel bad fibbing to keep a bounce in his step. “It was a blast.”

“Literally.” Clay wiped his face. “I need a tissue to blow Ruger out of my nose.”

“Crybaby.” I used the hem of my shirt to wipe my face clean. “Snorting daemon never hurt anyone.”

Fast as a blink, the daemon scooped me into his arms and leapt to the grass, setting me on my feet.

“Me next.” Clay held out his arms. “I want to be carried everywhere I go too.”

The daemon rolled his eyes in a Colbylike gesture then turned to me. “Go home now?”

“Sure thing.” I worked to contain my relief. “We’re done here.”

Heaving a sigh, Clay jumped the railing and landed beside me with his second pout of the day.

About to tease him for it, I tensed when flames ignited as the daemon exchanged one body for another.

Hair in grisly tangles, Asa wore the daemon’s black leather pants and onyx piercings, but that was it.

Worry trickled through me at the unscripted switch. Asa had explained before we left that he would hold his daemon form to please the crowd. They weren’t big on fae. Princely or otherwise. It was dangerous to swap now.

“Rue—”

That was all the warning Asa got out before I noticed the crowd parting around a newcomer.

From the sudden hush, I decided he was a high-ranking daemon wearing human glamour.

But his face, if it was truly his, set my heart pounding in recognition of who approached us.

Orion Pollux Stavros, Master of Agonae, High King of Hael.

Asa’s father.

They could have been brothers. Twins. The centuries spanning between them were as nothing.

Except for the steel of his eyes, sharp as honed daggers, the opposite of Asa’s jewel-toned warmth.

“Son.” Overlooking Asa, he fixated on me. “You weren’t leaving without saying goodbye?”

“Father.” Asa kept his voice smooth and even. “I wasn’t aware you were coming today.”

Had we known, Clay wouldn’t have left my side to indulge his culinary curiosity at the concession stand.

Suddenly, Ruger’s bid to go out with a bang made a lot more sense. He had been performing for Stavros. Or, possibly, acting on Stavros’s orders. Had Clay not warned me, I would have accomplished what none of the challengers had managed: I would have killed the daemon.

“You requested an audience with me.” Magnanimous, the high king spread his hands. “Here I am.”

“Here you are,” I agreed. “Lucky thing you caught us before we left.”

“Fortunate indeed.” He smiled with avarice that chilled the marrow in my bones. “You must be Rue.”