House of Blood and Beasts

12. Confrontational Questioning

The artwork above is not mine.

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    Ruhn crossed his arms, knowing that if he let them hang at his sides, the urge to punch the Angel would overwhelm him. Sarai stood in between them, but she was slowly backing away. Apparently, not even she was dumb enough to take on an Angel alone. Especially not the Umbra Mortis. Hunt hadn't so much as looked at her yet. His onyx gaze was fixed wholly on Ruhn.

    "Working, same as you," Ruhn grunted.

    "What business could bring you here?" Hunt asked.

    "None of yours."

    "Who authorized your visit?"

    "Luna herself, obviously."

    Hunt flashed him a dark sneer. "I know you have no regard for anyone or anything, but there are protocols in place for your benefit. Protocols that, if followed, will keep me from cracking your skull open, for example."

    "Your threats would hold a little more weight if you'd actually stand by them every now and then," Ruhn spat.

    "I let my reputation give my threats weight. How much influence does your own have, Prince?" Hunt cocked his head. "Not much, if this little Pup kicked your ass when she was only seventeen." He gestured to Sarai.

    Cold anger whipped through Ruhn's veins, dredging up his shadows. He dug his nails into his biceps, fighting the urge to take a swing at the Angel. Maybe he should just give in. It would be worth any punishment he faced. Athalar needed someone to put him in his place from time to time.

    "Go ahead," Ruhn growled. "I'd love to see what the Governor will do if you start a fight with the Crown Prince of the Fae." He usually did his best to avoid pulling the rank card, but today he could make an exception.

    That cruel halo of thorns darkened on Hunt's brow. Ruhn had to wonder what it was like, having such a glaring reminder of his failures tattooed to his forehead. Such a glaring reminder that he was a slave, no longer free to do as he wished. In that regard, Ruhn thought he and the Angel could relate. His scars had often felt like a brand of slavery until he began covering them with tattoos.

    "Who cares what Micah will do to me? It will be worth it, seeing what your daddy does to you in return," Hunt snarled.

    Ruhn bristled at the comment and uncrossed his arms. Just as he took a step forward, Sarai butted in between them. Ruhn halted, more on instinct than by will. "If Crescent City relies on squabbling idiots like you two to protect it, it's a miracle we haven't all been destroyed before now," Sarai huffed. "Isaiah Tiberian authorized our visit, and I don't imagine he'll be very happy if he walks in and finds the two of you trying to kill each other."

    "The Pup beats your ass and now she defends it? I'm shocked a Fae bastard would allow either of those things." Hunt shoved past Ruhn, not waiting for a response.

    "Fucking Malakh," Ruhn hissed between his teeth.

    Sarai grabbed his shoulder, as though she were worried he might follow Hunt. "Did something happen between you two? A fight or..."

    "No," Ruhn interrupted. "But it's only a matter of time. He doesn't know when to keep his fucking mouth shut."

    She snorted. "Neither do you."

    "As if you're any better."

    "Did I say I was?" Sarai peered past him, watching Hunt's receding form. "Make sure you let me know when you decide to fight him. I want to watch."