49
“Danika didn’t steal anything,” Bryce whispered, cold lurching through her.
Only Hunt’s arm around her middle kept her upright, his body a warm wall at her back.
Sabine’s light brown eyes—the same shade Danika’s had been but void of their warmth—were merciless. “Why do you think I swapped the footage? She thought the blackout would hide her, but was too dumb to consider that there might be audio still rolling that picked up each one of her disappearing footsteps as she left her post to steal the Horn, then reappeared a minute later, going back on patrol, as if she hadn’t spat in our goddess’s face. Whether she caused the blackout to steal it or if she took advantage of an opportunity, I don’t know.”
“Why would she take it?” Bryce could barely get the words out.
“Because Danika was a brat who wanted to see what she could get away with. As soon as I got the alert that the Horn had been stolen, I looked into the videos and swapped the footage on every database.” Sabine’s smile was a cruel slash. “I cleaned up her mess—just like I did for her entire life.
And you two, in asking your questions, have threatened the shred of a legacy that she stands to leave.”
Hunt’s wings flared slightly. “You sent that demon after us tonight—”
Sabine’s pale brows snapped together. “What demon? I’ve been waiting for you here all night. I thought about your stupid fucking visit to my Den, and decided you needed a real reminder to stay the Hel out of this case.”
She bared her teeth. “Amelie Ravenscroft is standing across the street,
waiting to make the call if you step out of line, Athalar. She says you two were putting on quite the show a moment ago.” A vicious, knowing smile.
Bryce flushed, and let Hunt look to confirm. From the way he tensed, she knew it was true.
Sabine said, “And as for what I said the night she died: Danika couldn’t keep her mouth shut—about anything. I knew she’d stolen the Horn, and knew someone probably killed her for it because she couldn’t keep it quiet.”
Another cold laugh. “Everything I did was to protect my daughter. My reckless, arrogant daughter. Everything you did encouraged the worst in her.”
Hunt’s growl rent the night. “Careful, Sabine.”
But the Alpha just snorted. “You’ll regret crossing me.” She strolled for the edge of the roof, her power thrumming in a faint glow around her as she assessed the same leap that Bryce had so stupidly considered a year and a half ago. Only, Sabine would be able to gracefully land on the pavement.
Sabine looked back over a thin shoulder, her lengthening teeth gleaming as she said, “I didn’t kill my daughter. But if you jeopardize her legacy, I will kill you.”
And then she jumped, shifting with a soft flash of light as she went.
Hunt sprinted for the edge, but Bryce knew what he’d see: a wolf landing lightly on the pavement and streaking away into the darkness.
