Crescent City: A Court of Thrones and Glass

Chapter Seven: Bryce

A/N: Thank you @marinadia29 and @mundomixer for voting!

      Beep. Beep. Beep. Bryce rolled over and slapped a hand onto her alarm clock. 8:00am. Time for work. Ugh. Bryce did not want to get out of bed. It was too cozy and warm, but wait. What was that smell? Is that.....Bryce sniffed once more.....bacon? She rolled out from under the covers and got dressed. She donned a skin tight black suit that was reinforced, like armour. Never mind that it made her ass look fantastic. Overtop, she strapped on a couple sheathes of daggers, around ankle, on the inside of her thigh, the usually spots. Then Bryce loaded the twin holsters on her hips with her guns, and a sword in the scabbard down the column of her spine.
It became a ritual, the weapons. She seldom left home without them. After the incident with Micah, and the gates, they became a part of her. Bryce also began training. Not only was she practicing sharp shooting, she trained with throwing knives, daggers, swords, arrows, you name it. It made her feel safe. After she was dressed and ready for the day, she walked to the kitchen.
There was Hunt, in battle under-gear, slaving over the stove. It was quite the sight.
"Hungry?" he asked as he slid a plate of bacon, eggs, and fresh fruit over to where Bryce was perched on a stool. Hunt sat down next to her and dug into his breakfast. Bryce picked up a fork and picked at her meal, but she didn't really have an appetite. They were about to go to Griffin Antiquities, where Lehabah sacrificed herself to save her, where Syrinx almost died, where she killed Micah, burned him, vacuumed up his ashes, hell, where she almost died. Hunt gave her a knowing look, and wordlessly cleaned her plate.
"It's okay, Bryce, Syrie and I will be right there with you," Hunt said, glancing at the silly chimera begging for scraps.
"Has he eaten?" Bryce asked, her first words all morning.
"Yes he has, and I've already taken him for a walk. The little beast is lying to you," Hunt replied.
"Why were you up so early then? Taking him out, cooking breakfast...." she trailed off, awaiting his answer.
"Well," Hunt responded, "I may have gotten you a little something." He reached for a white box sitting on the counter, that she hadn't noticed, and gave it to Bryce. She opened it and squealed.
"Pastries!" Despite her lack of appetite, she shoved one in her mouth. "Fhank you," she said with a full mouth. Hunt laughed.
"You're welcome. Ready to go?" She nodded and grabbed Syrinx's leash. They decided to walk to the shop, even though it was brisk out. As they neared Griffin Antiquities, Bryce grabbed Hunt's hand and squeezed it. He squeezed right back.
As Bryce unlocked the door and opened it, she was greeted by a flood of memories. She looked around. Everything was the same as before. It was as if nothing horrible had happened here. Except, there was a book on the desk. Not just any book, one that was supposed to be in the basement, locked up.
"Hunt," Bryce said with concern, "why is this up here. It's not allowed to be up here."
"I don't know, sweetheart," he answered with equal concern. He tapped a subtle square on his shirt, which caused his battle armour to spread across his body. He had it modified to do that so he could always have it with him. Hunt flared his wings, pushing Bryce out of the way.
"Be careful, we don't know what it can do," Bryce cautioned, grabbing his hand.
"I know. It seems to be pretty docile. Maybe we can just return it to it's usual spot," he suggested, "It's called The Walking Dead, but it doesn't seem to be moving on its own. Maybe it's just summoning spells." Then, Hunt went to pick up the book. As soon as his hand touch it, a black, swirling portal opened, and yanked both Hunt and Bryce inside.
"SHIT!" Bryce yelled as the hole snapped shut behind them and they were launched away, hurtling through time and space.