“So do you. Birdwoman.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
Tristan washere.
Cassandra almost couldn’t believe it. She still wasn’t convinced that she hadn’t been eaten by those beasts and that his arrival wasn’t some crazy, afterlife vision.
Especially since she couldn’t even see him right now. She’d insisted he hide beneath his camouflaging feathers as they trekked back to Mireille’s shop. Cassandra had no idea what the Koenig’s policy was on individuals breakingintoTartarus without an official sentence. And she wasn’t about to find out.
It was late, a few hours from dawn, so she didn’t pass many other prisoners. And the few she did dipped furtive glances toward their feet. They didn’t want to be caught out this late any more than she did.
The apothecary sign creaked and the bell jingled as Cassandra pushed the door open, then led Tristan up into the small apartment.
“Mireille? Ronin?” she called out as they stepped into the living room.
“Cass?” Mireille strode down the hallway, pushing her arms through the sleeves of a black silk robe, then fluffing her copperwaves over her shoulders. She frowned as she drug her silver gaze over Cassandra’s wet hair, clothes, and feathers. “By the Creator, what happened to you?”
Ronin tugged his eye patch into place as he emerged from his bedroom, shirtless in loose gray sleep pants. His eye darted to Mireille’s bare legs then quickly back to Cassandra. “Everything okay?”
“You can come out now,” Cassandra said.
Tristan unfurled his wings and Mireille shrieked, pulling her robe tighter. Ronin stumbled, catching himself on the arm of the couch and releasing a long, drawn-out curse.
“Nice place,” Tristan said, nodding his head and surveying the tiny apartment.
Mireille snapped her mouth shut, then bowed at the waist. “Your Highness, welcome.” She rose, blinking furiously, as if she had a million questions and couldn’t decide where to start. “Can I…get you some tea?”
Ronin shot her a glare. “That’swhat you landed on?” Mireille sneered at him. “How aboutwhat in the name of the Creator are you doing here? Orhow did you get past the wards and through the mists? Orwhy is Cassandra soaking wet?” He turned back to Tristan. “Orwhat in the actualfuckare you doing here?”
Tristan laughed, clapping a hand on Ronin’s muscled shoulder. He squeezed it with an appreciative murmur. “Training time’s paying off.” He settled into a chair at the dining table, angling his wings over the back and resting his elbows on the surface. “A cup of tea would be wonderful, Mireille. I assume you’re Mireille?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Mireille answered, dazed, as if she had no control of the words coming out of her mouth. “I’m Mireille. Been Mireille my whole life. My last name is Valette. Actually, it’s Valois, but I changed it when I was twenty-one and I haveno idea why that’s important right now. It’s not really, I… Right. Tea.” She padded into the kitchen, filled a teapot, then hung it over the hearth and used a match to light a fire.
Ronin sank into the chair next to Tristan. “Whatareyou doing here?”
“I couldn’t leave Cassandra to face the terrors of Tartarus alone. No matter how much companionship she had.” Tristan speared her with a pleading glance. “I’m only sorry it took me so long to figure out how to breach the wards.” Cassandra gifted him a watery smile.
Ronin glanced toward Mireille, shame tugging down the corners of his mouth. “No one knows how to get through the wards except the Imperial delegation that comes for sentencing. Trust me, I’ve looked into it.” Mireille’s back stiffened, but she didn’t turn, focused her attention on sprinkling tea leaves into the strainers. “How didyoufind out?”
“It has to do with the second reason I’m here.” He motioned to Cassandra. “Come over here, Daredevil, you need to hear this, too.”
Cassandra pulled out the chair next to Tristan.
“Nope.” He pulled her into his lap, tucking her wings against her back and wrapping an arm around her waist. “This is your seat for the foreseeable future.” He planted a kiss on her temple.
Ronin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “There are going to berules. This apartment is really fucking tinyandthe walls are thinner than paper.”
“Is that a challenge, Matakos?” Tristan grinned wide enough to expose his sharp canines and Cassandra fought an urge to slide her tongue down one.
Mireille joined them at the table, passing around mugs of tea, while Tristan regaled them with the incredible story of how he’d breached the wards. Of who the Koenig actually was.
And of the information they needed to pull from the male’s memories.
“So,you had no problems at all in those mists?” Ronin asked, sipping his tea. It was deliciously bitter, just the way he liked it. Mireille hadn’t forgotten his preferences. His chest squeezed.
“It was a little disorienting, but I never lost track of my direction.” Tristan held Cassandra’s chin and kissed her lips. “Like a divine presence was guiding me exactly where I needed to be.” Her feathers rustled.
Ronin fought an urge to roll his eye. Like this shoebox of an apartment neededthatkind of fucking energy.
