“Suit yourself. Hey, bring me some Thai, would you?”
“Sure.”
As I slid my phone back into my pocket, Zylas drifted closer. “The imailatē belongs to my House.”
“I know. If we find it, it’s yours.” I rubbed my chilled hands together. “I don’t want to get distracted from returning you to your world, but I have a feeling this amulet will be part of that. What if Myrrine meant it’s the key to Demonica?”
Zylas’s hands caught mine, enclosing my icy fingers in warmth. “You are too cold, drādah.”
“I’m fine,” I squeaked, yanking on my hands. “I’m not hypothermic this time.”
He pressed my fingers between his palms. “You will give the imailatē to me?”
Distracted, I frowned at him. “I don’t need to give it to you. It belongs to you.”
“Maybe it is powerful.”
“It’s still yours. I wouldn’t keep it from you.”
“Amalia would.”
My frown deepened. Why did he use Amalia’s name, but never mine? All I got were insulting nicknames. “Amalia doesn’t trust you, but that’s your own fault.”
“Na, my fault?”
“If you were even a little bit nice to her, she would think better of you.”
“Nice?” he scoffed. “Nice does not make trust.”
I tugged on my hands again as I muttered, “It wouldn’t hurt.”
“Do you trust me, drādah?”
My gaze shot up to his. I opened my mouth but no words made it past my tight throat. Did I trust him? Of course I did, except …
I cleared my throat. “Do you trust me?”
He watched me silently—then suddenly pulled me closer. His hand cupped the back of my head, and he pushed his warm face into the side of my neck. His breath slid under my jacket collar, tickling my shoulder.
“Your heart is fast.” He lifted his face. “You are not too cold.”
I gaped as my very non-hypothermic heart galloped across my ribs. “I know. I told you that.”
“You should go to a warm place.”
“It’s not that cold, Zylas, and I’m not soaking wet.”
“Go to a warm place, drādah.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’m going.”
A wolfish grin flashed across his lips, then his body turned to red light. His demonic spirit streaked toward my chest, and the infernus hidden under my jacket vibrated. His abandoned black sweater dropped to the ground.
Bundling the sweater under my arm, I stuffed my hands in my pocket and hurried out of the park. An irregular stream of cars zipped past as I headed west on Powell Street. After a few blocks, I turned. Waiting on the next corner, its windows glowing, was my guild.
Muffled noise leaked out of the building—sounded like it was busy—and I reached for the wooden door.
It flew open before I could touch it. A huge man burst out, almost bowling me over as I backpedaled.
“Oh, sorry,” he said on his way by. Three more men and two women followed him, and all six looked ready to step into an MMA ring and kick ass. Definitely combat mythics.
A final woman walked out, long black hair fluttering behind her. She flashed me a smile before joining the others, who were climbing into a pair of vehicles parked at the curb. I blinked at the group. Was I supposed to know them? They didn’t seem familiar.
With a mental shrug, I slipped through the door before it closed. The pub was crowded for a Wednesday night, and I slunk into the nearest corner and set Zylas’s sweater on a table. After a moment, I unzipped my jacket and added it on top. Chatter filled the space, and I scanned the gathered mythics. Some familiar faces, some strangers, and—
My gaze reached the bar and stuttered.
Tori, the redheaded bartender, stood behind the bar, speaking to a pair of men across from her: blue-eyed, copper-haired pyromage Aaron and dark-haired, handsome electramage Kai.
The last time I’d seen those two had been in the Arcana Atrium. They’d stood on either side of Zora as she’d informed me that, from now on, she would be monitoring my every move to ensure I didn’t break any MPD laws beyond my illegal contract. Aaron and Kai didn’t know I was a rogue contractor, but they knew Zora was watching me.
My hand flew to my phone, nestled in my pocket, and I fought back a wave of panic. In the two and a half weeks since that encounter, I’d been holed up at home translating the grimoire, so I hadn’t done anything that I’d need to inform Zora about. Should I have told her what I was doing tonight?
As all of that rushed through my head, I remembered something else: Tahēsh’s body falling to the earth after Zylas had beheaded him, the demonic corpse landing at a woman’s feet.
Tori’s feet.
She’d been there. Her and Aaron and Kai and Ezra. They’d fled the scene right after, but Tahēsh had landed almost on top of Tori. Had she seen the amulet? Did she know what had happened to it?
I was moving before I could stop to think. Tori turned as I approached, and her jaw dropped as though the sight of me had blown her mind.
Maybe I should spend more time at the guild.
“Hi Tori,” I began hesitantly. How was I supposed to broach the topic of that night in the park without raising her suspicions?
My skin prickled. My gaze darted sideways.
Kai and Aaron hadn’t moved from their stools, but their expressions had drastically changed. Icy stares had replaced their good humor, and “back off” vibes radiated from them.
“How …” I began haltingly, cringing away from the mages’ hostility, “are … you … to … night …”
As Tori glanced at her friends, confusion crinkling her forehead, their glares intensified. They wanted me gone, and gone now.
“Good … good to see … you,” I mumbled, stumbling backward. Forgetting about my jacket and Zylas’s sweater, I rushed for the stairs and out of the mages’ sights.
I didn’t stop until I was pulling open the Arcana Atrium door on the third level. I flipped the “Arcana In Progress” sign over and hastily shut the door, my stomach heavy with a mix of fear and dismay—and a touch of humiliation.
Aaron and Kai had their reasons for mistrusting me, and I couldn’t blame them for it, but they might as well have stamped “pariah” on my forehead. With two of the most powerful and popular mages in the guild openly rejecting me, the rest of the membership would never accept my presence. I’d be an outcast forever.
Nudging my glasses up to wipe my eyes, I dropped onto the bench and whispered, “Zylas.”
Red bloomed from the infernus resting on my black knit sweater, and the demon materialized beside me.
“Did you pick up on all that?” I asked, pulling out my phone and opening the texting app.
“You think the female hh’ainun knows about the imailatē?”
“She might’ve seen whether it fell off Tahēsh, but I doubt she noticed it. I never did.” I’d been too busy looking at Tahēsh’s wings, tail, horns, terrifying muscles, and deadly magic to note his jewelry. “I can try to ask her when she’s alone.”
I paused halfway through typing a message to Zora explaining where I was. “Or maybe I shouldn’t ask Tori anything? She and the mages ran away from the park after Tahēsh died. They didn’t want MagiPol to know they were there.”