DARK ARTS AND A DAIQUIRI

The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Two

ANNETTE MARIE

Dark Arts and a Daiquiri

The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Book Two

Copyright © 2018 by Annette Marie

www.annettemarie.ca

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations for review purposes.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is purely coincidental.

Dark Owl Fantasy Inc.

PO Box 88106, Rabbit Hill Post Office

Edmonton, AB, Canada T6R 0M5

www.darkowlfantasy.com

Cover Copyright © 2018 by Annette Ahner

www.midnightwhimsydesigns.com

Editing by Elizabeth Darkley

arrowheadediting.wordpress.com

ISBN: 978-1-988153-24-7 (ebook)

ASIN B07H6LSSH7

Version 2018.11.11

CONTENTS

Books by Annette Marie

The Guild Codex

Dark Arts and a Daiquiri

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Two Witches and a Whiskey

The Steel & Stone Series

The Spell Weaver Trilogy

The Red Winter Trilogy

Acknowledgments

About the Author

BOOKS BY ANNETTE MARIE

THE GUILD CODEX

The Guild Codex: Spellbound

Three Mages and a Margarita

Dark Arts and a Daiquiri

Two Witches and a Whiskey

STEEL & STONE UNIVERSE

Steel & Stone Series

Chase the Dark

Bind the Soul

Yield the Night

Feed the Flames

Reap the Shadows

Unleash the Storm

Steel & Stone

Spell Weaver Trilogy

The Night Realm

The Shadow Weave

The Blood Curse

OTHER WORKS

Red Winter Trilogy

Red Winter

Dark Tempest

Immortal Fire

THE GUILD CODEX

Classes of Magic

Spiritalis

Psychica

Arcana

Demonica

Elementaria

Mythic

A person with magical ability

MPD / MagiPol

The organization that regulates mythics and their activities

Rogue

A mythic living in violation of MPD laws

DARK ARTS AND A DAIQUIRI

CHAPTER ONE

“This house,” the landlord declared, “is not haunted.”

Lifting my sunglasses off my eyes, I peered at the sweating man. His baggy shirt stuck to his beer belly and his bald head shone in the afternoon sun. Had I somehow implied I was concerned about paranormal activity? Because I definitely hadn’t asked about any hauntings.

At my dubious look, he realized his mistake.

“There are rumors—I mean, a few people have—that is …” He deflated. “It’s not haunted.”

Uh-huh. I perched my sunglasses on top of my head and surveyed the property. We stood in the backyard of a tired bungalow that wore its recent renovations like a venerable old lady done up in clown makeup. The back fence had been painted white, but the peeling underlayer was already lifting the new coat off. The postage-stamp yard had been sodded with green grass, and a new pergola sat atop cracked patio stones, but a monster-sized spruce dominated the space.

Blowing my bangs off my forehead, I scanned my printout for the rental. “Is this yard shared with the people upstairs?”

“Technically, yes.” He wiped his hands on his baggy gym shorts. “The main level is rented, but they travel a lot.”

“Hmm.” I waited a moment to see if he’d offer up anything else. “Can we go inside?”

“Oh yes!” He waved enthusiastically. “The door’s unlocked. Go ahead and take a look around.”

I glanced at my apartment-hunting wingwoman. Sin scrunched her face, arms folded over her teal sundress, the airy fabric almost the same color as her wavy hair. With a shrug, I headed for the back door and she followed behind me. The landlord, blotting his face with a crumpled tissue, stayed where he was.

Once inside the drab entryway, Sin snorted loudly. “What is with the weirdo count on this outing? The first landlord invited you to move into his house instead of the apartment. The second lady asked seven times if you were a natural redhead. Now this guy? Ugh.”

I started down the stairs to the basement. “You forgot the creeper at the bus stop who tried to snatch your purse.”

“The one you called a swamp donkey?” Sin smirked. “And threatened to shove into traffic?”

“Funny how he decided he didn’t need to take the bus after all.” I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh, hey. This isn’t half bad.”

The simple open layout showcased a basic kitchen with cheap appliances in one corner, a living room with a fireplace and a long window that let in a surprising amount of light, and imitation-hardwood floors throughout. Excited, I checked out the bathroom, bedroom, and tiny laundry room. Returning to the empty, echoey living room, I spun in a slow circle.

“This is really nice,” I gushed, unconcerned by the lackluster finishes. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and having spent the last ten months sleeping on my brother’s sofa, I was ready to overlook anything less than holes in the walls.

Which, unfortunately, had been included in all the apartments we’d viewed so far, along with complimentary mold, cockroaches, and suspicious odors. That wasn’t including the batshit crazy landlords. Did normal people not dabble in real estate investment, or did all the well-adjusted landlords have tenants already?

“It’s clean,” Sin observed. “Running water. Heat. Wait, does it have heat? It’s cold in here.”

“Well, it is a basement.” I flapped my printout. “It says all utilities are included in the rent. How sweet is that?”

Sin wrinkled her nose suspiciously. “It’s too cheap. There’s got to be something wrong with it.”

“Maybe there’s a hobo living in the crawlspace.” I pointed at a half-height door tucked in a corner of the living room. “That’s a crawlspace, right?”

We crossed the room and I crouched at the door, Sin leaning over my shoulder. I pulled it open. Inside was nothing but impenetrable darkness.

“Use your phone’s flashlight,” Sin suggested. “There must be a light switch or—”

Chill air whispered over my skin and all the hair on my body stood on end—then arctic wind blasted me in the face.

I recoiled, crashing into Sin’s legs. She landed on her ass as the wind howled out of the crawlspace, whipping dust through the room. My printouts went flying and we scrambled backward on our butts with the papers spiraling toward the ceiling.

The darkness in the crawlspace leaked out from the doorway and pooled on the floor like ink. Shadows writhed and something pale materialized in the threshold—a skeletal woman on her hands and knees, toothless mouth gaping, empty eye sockets dribbling black blood.

I took one look at the moaning specter and screamed like the sissy girl that I am.

Sin let out her own terrified shriek as the ghostly woman dragged herself out of the crawlspace, her long hair trailing on the floor. She stretched a hand toward us, blackened fingers curled like claws, and icy gusts lashed at our faces. Still screaming, Sin grabbed my arm, her fingernails digging into my skin. Sharp pain cut through my panic.

I jammed my hand into my pocket and whipped out my trump card—yes, a literal card.

My trusty Queen of Spades was more than it appeared: a sorcerer’s artifact embedded with a spell that reflected magic. Was there any magic here to rebound? I had no idea. Would it work on a ghost? Also no idea. I wasn’t a sorcerer. I was a crime-of-convenience thief and I had only the vaguest notion how to use the card.

But it was the lone magical defense I had, so I thrust it at the phantom and shouted, “Ori repercutio!”

The air rippled and the gale-force wind reversed direction. It slammed into the woman, flinging her back into the crawlspace. Her head hit the door frame with a whack.

“Ow!” she squeaked.

Sin’s scream cut off. In unison, we launched to our feet. We weren’t screaming anymore, but I for one was even more freaked out. The woman was too solid to be a ghost, but holy freaking shit, that body did not belong to a living being—papery skin clinging to bones, empty sockets for eyes, stringy hair down to her knees.

The ghost woman sprang up, raising her hands like claws. “Begone from this place,” she moaned. “Begooooone … or else!”

I tilted my head toward Sin, not daring to take my eyes off the not-a-ghost. “Hey, Sin. Is that … a vampire?”

“No.” She pulled a handful of vials with colorful liquid contents out of her purse. “Not even close.”

Selecting a bottle, she dropped the others back into her bag and unscrewed the top. A hideous smell like burnt iron singed my nose.

“No!” the woman shrieked—except she didn’t sound like a woman anymore. Her voice was two octaves higher and painfully nasal. “Don’t!”

Sin held out the bottle threateningly. “Show us your real form or I’ll drench you!”

“Noooo! Go away!” The woman stomped her foot. “Stupid humans! This is my house!”

Raising her hand higher, Sin started to tip the bottle.

“Uuuuugh. Fine.” The woman threw her hands up—and her body melted. It lost solidity and shrank, then reformed into something new.

The creature was dark green with skin the waxy texture of pine needles. Even with twigs sprouting off its large head in place of hair, it barely reached my waist, and a mixture of spruce branches and pine cones hid its torso. Thin arms and legs stuck out of the twiggy mess, its hands and feet comically oversized.

Its eyes, narrowed angrily, dominated its face, the crystalline green irises unnaturally bright and entirely lacking pupils—just giant green orbs.

The creature pointed an accusing finger at us. “This is my house! Leave or I’ll turn you into bean sprouts!”

I cleared my throat. “Okay, not a vampire,” I said to Sin. “What is it?”

“This,” Sin replied grimly, “is a faery. Some sort of woodland sprite.”

“Ah. I see.” Faery. Got it. I pursed my lips. How come no one had ever mentioned faeries before? What the hell!

“Why aren’t you listening?” the faery demanded. “I said get out, you stupid mud-slinging apes!”

“Whoa, whoa.” I put my hands on my hips. “What did you just call us?”

“Apes! Dogs! Slimy worms! Hairless monkey fre—”

Sin tilted her reeking bottle and the faery jumped back.

“No! Keep that away from me!”

“If you don’t want me to dump this all over the house,” she threatened, “then show some respect.”

“Respect,” the faery sneered under its breath. “Who would respect talking leaf shitters who can’t even—no no no!”

The faery plastered itself against the wall as Sin advanced with the anti-faery potion. She glanced back at me, scowling. “The rent on this place is probably so cheap because this dingbat has been terrifying all the potential tenants with its The Ring impression.”

Remembering the landlord’s declaration, I shook my head in disbelief. “Not haunted, my ass.”

“Well, it’s an easy fix. We’ll just bring a witch out to exorcise the faery and—”

“Nooo!” the faery shrieked in its grating voice. “This is my house! Mine!”

“It’s a human house!” Sin yelled. “Go back to the forest!”

The faery pulled its green lips back, revealing pointed canines like a cat’s. Then it leaped.

It crashed into Sin’s chest, knocking her down as it grabbed at the vial in her hand. I launched forward, swung my foot back, and kicked the little green bastard square in the face. The faery tumbled into the wall, yelping the whole way.

Sin sat up. The vial, and her hand, were wrapped in thin tree roots, preventing the liquid from spilling out. Tearing the roots off her hand, she shot the faery a murderous glare, then stalked to the stairs. “Come on, Tori.”

“We’re leaving?”

“Only witches can deal with fae.”

The faery sat on the floor with its hair twigs bent on one side. It glowered furiously at me, its spindly arms crossed. As I trotted after Sin, it stuck its green tongue out.

I stuck my tongue out in turn, then hurried up the stairs and slammed the door shut behind me.

Sin recapped her anti-faery concoction and hid it in her purse as we walked into the backyard, baking heat sweeping over us. I sighed, relieved to be out of the unnatural cold. The landlord was waiting in the shade of the spruce tree, his shoulders slumped dejectedly.

Heard us screaming, had he? He’d sure embraced his inner hero when he came running to our rescue. Not.

I pulled my sunglasses down over my eyes. “I’ll call later this week to set up a second viewing.”

His head jerked up. “You—you want to come back?”

Assuming every visitor got the faery’s horror-movie treatment, I’d bet an entire paycheck that I was the first person to ever suggest a second viewing. “Yeah. I’ll call you.”

With a farewell wave, I strolled out of the yard. Back on the sidewalk, Sin and I headed toward the main street.

“Well,” I remarked, “that was interesting. Are you sure a witch can deal with the pine-cone prick?”

“It’ll be no problem. That’s a minor faery, nothing that would slow down a witch.”

“Excellent.” I smiled wickedly. “One small exorcism and I can rent the place at a haunted-house discount.”

She returned my grin. “How convenient that you happen to know several witches.”

“Very convenient indeed.” I checked the clock on my phone. My shift started in thirty minutes, and all things considered, witches were a cakewalk compared to some of my clientele.

CHAPTER TWO

From the outside, the Crow and Hammer didn’t look like much of anything. Three stories, walls the color of faded brick, barred windows, and a black door tucked in a recessed entryway. A crow with its wings spread wide, perched on a war hammer, was painted on the door, the silver lettering of the name peeling.

With Sin behind me, I pushed the door open, ignoring the anxiety-inducing repelling spell that kept the general public away. A blast of sound hit me.

I lifted my sunglasses to take in the chaos. The bar was normally tidy—because I kept it that way—and the dark wood walls and heavy beams in the ceiling gave it a Ye Old Pub feeling I enjoyed. But the dozen tables were scattered like litter in the wind and the chairs were even more haphazard, half of them lying on their sides.

“Aaaaroon!”

A woman with black braids tied into a high ponytail charged between two tables, chasing down her victim. Hands outstretched in placation, he retreated with stumbling steps. Inexplicably, he was soaking wet, his red hair plastered to his face.

“It was an honest mistake, Laetitia!” He knocked over another chair as he scrambled backward, tracking water everywhere. “I had no idea—”

“I posted on the board!” she shouted, advancing on him. “Three days, Aaron! Three days of precise planning that you ruined on a whim!”

“Well.” He halted, cocking his head. “Your plan didn’t work, but we still caught the guy, right?”

A pulse of silence ran through the room. The dozen other patrons, wisely lining the walls to stay out of the way, looked back and forth between the two mages like spectators at a tennis match. Muttering something about using the rear door instead, Sin turned on her heel and marched right back outside. Too bad I couldn’t follow suit.

Laetitia swelled with fury. “My plan would have worked if you hadn’t burst in throwing fireballs right when—”

“But we caught him, so does it really matter that—”

With a high-pitched sound like a kettle on the boil, she threw her hands up. The air around her blurred into mist. The condensation coalesced into a giant orb of shimmering water that she hurled at Aaron.

The magical water balloon slammed into his chest. Liquid splashed across the floor and he fell into the bar, knocking over stools, more drenched than before.

“Oh, come on,” he complained loudly, wiping water off his face. “I said I was sorry!”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word,” she snarled, raising her hands again. Mist formed into another water orb.

Okay, I’d seen enough. I pushed my shoulders back, lifted my chin, and bellowed, “What the hell are you doing to my bar?”

All eyes turned to me. Laetitia hesitated, water swirling around her hands.

Aaron cringed. “Oh, uh … Tori. Is it four o’clock already?”

I marched across the floor, my ponytail bouncing with each step. “What is this? If you’re going to have a water fight, take it outside!” Halting in front of Laetitia and Aaron, I folded my arms and glowered. “Do you expect me to clean up this bullshit mess on top of my bar prep?”

Laetitia lowered her hands, the liquid dissipating into a foggy cloud. “I’ll clean up the water.”

She waved at the nearest puddles. The water flew into the air and gathered into an expanding liquid orb between her palms. As the final droplets joined her super-orb, she raised it up, pivoted toward Aaron, and brought the whole thing down on his head like she was slam-dunking a basketball.

Water flew everywhere, but not a single speck touched the floor. It evaporated into a fine mist that dispersed in seconds. Smirking, Laetitia sauntered away, leaving Aaron with liquid streaming off his clothes and puddling around his feet.

Muttering under his breath, he straightened his sopping shirt. The white fabric clung to his toned chest and droplets ran enticingly down his biceps and hard forearms. As my attention wandered, I reminded myself that I was angry with him.

“Hey, Tori.” He pushed his red hair off his forehead and gave me his most charming smile, as though a water mage assaulting him was no big deal. “How did apartment hunting go today?”

“Don’t ‘hey, Tori’ me,” I said firmly, immune to his charisma—or close enough to fake it. “Get cleaning!”

“Eh?”

I pointed behind me. “Everything you knocked around. Fix it.”

He started picking up stools. Positioning myself in front of the bar, I supervised his efforts. When he’d straightened the last chair, I was waiting with the mop in hand. He looked from the mop to the water he’d tracked all over the floor, then took the handle from me with a grumble. As he mopped his water trail and the other customers returned to their seats, two guys emerged from the darkest corner.

I arched my eyebrows as they joined me, doubting their innocent airs. Where Aaron went, Kai and Ezra were usually close behind, keeping the pyromage from burning buildings down or getting himself kidnapped … again.

Kai leaned against the bar beside me, casually adjusting his sleek silver watch. Cool as ice and scary intelligent, he was the brains to Aaron’s brawn. Not that Kai was a pushover—his impressive physique aside, he was a dangerously skilled electramage—but with his striking good looks and classy style, he was easy to underestimate.

Taking the spot on my other side was Ezra. Super hot too and my favorite sweetheart of a badass, butt-kicking aeromage. As he turned a quiet smile on me, the light gleamed on his pale left eye, damaged by the mysterious attack that had left a thick scar running down his face from temple to cheekbone.

“So,” I drawled, “what did you three do this time?”

“Kai and I are innocent of any wrongdoing,” Ezra protested. Despite his hurt tone, his meltingly smooth voice was as deliciously appealing as always.

“Uh-huh. What did you do?”

Kai brushed nonexistent lint off his designer t-shirt. “We went after a bounty on a rogue summoner, but we didn’t realize Laetitia was already working on it.”

“We burst in right as she was about to take him down,” Ezra admitted. “Kind of ruined it for her. But we did catch the guy.”

“Aaron wasn’t apologetic,” Kai added. “Laetitia didn’t appreciate that.”

“And when she and Aaron got in a shouting match, you two disappeared,” I guessed.

Ezra shrugged. “No sense in all three of us getting drenched.”

“Cowards,” Aaron complained, stumping over to the bar with the mop. “What they aren’t mentioning is how they knew Laetitia would blow up as soon as we got back, so Kai goaded her into flipping out on me first while they slipped away.”

“I did no such thing,” Kai deadpanned.

Aaron growled. Stepping away from us, he squinted in concentration. Heat rolled off him and hissing steam rose from his clothes. Leaving him to bake dry, I grabbed the mop and circled the bar.

“I’m going to start prepping,” I called back. “Wait for me.”

Hurrying into the kitchen, its cook absent, I returned the mop to its spot and pushed the office door open—smacking it into something solid.

“Oof!” Clara stumbled back, the stack of papers in her arms wobbling precariously.

“Sorry!” I exclaimed, grabbing her arm before she dumped her paperwork. Whacking my boss with a door. Smart. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, fine,” Clara said breathlessly, her brunette locks falling out of her messy bun. “How are you, Tori?”

“Good. Do you need help?”

“No, I’ve got it. Just working on the usual … everything.” She squeezed past me and took three rushing steps, then stopped. “Tori, did you leave your MPD form on my desk last week like I asked?”

“Sure did,” I said brightly, not asking the obvious question.

Her face fell. “Oh.”

Yep, she’d lost it again.

“If you leave another form for me, I’ll fill it out right away,” I offered. “And give it to you in person.”

She straightened from her slouch. “That would be wonderful. Thanks.”

Before I could respond, she sped off to do whatever “end of the world” paperwork was next on her list. Which, apparently, did not include the essential paperwork that would determine whether I got to keep my job. She’d lost my form five times. How did a person lose a one-page document that many times in six weeks?

I dropped off my purse, tied on my short apron, and grabbed an armload of cleaning supplies. Pushing through the saloon doors that hid the kitchen, I found the bar much quieter than when I’d arrived. Kai, Ezra, and Aaron, now dry, sat at the bar, a laptop open in front of Kai.

As I sprayed a section of the bar top with cleaner, Aaron welcomed me back with a grin. My stomach did a stupid little flutter.

“So,” he prompted. “Apartment hunting?”

“Found a decent place,” I told him as I diligently scrubbed every surface in reach. “It’s in my budget and I think it’ll work, pending one faery eviction.”

Kai and Ezra looked up from the laptop.

“Faery eviction?” the latter repeated.

I told them about my and Sin’s confrontation with the green horror-movie buff. “The creepy shrimp’s been chasing off everyone who’s viewed the place, but Sin said a witch can get it out.”

“Yeah, that shouldn’t be difficult.” Aaron glanced around at the other patrons, presumably searching for a witch. “I can call Philip, if you want. He can help out or assign another witch.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It’s not a problem. They can probably get a bonus out of it—MagiPol doesn’t like fae interfering with humans.”

Though I’d be delighted to help a witch earn extra dough, any mention of MagiPol sent a shiver down my spine. More formally called the MPD, MagiPol was the regulatory body that controlled the lives of all mythics. Being a lame-o human with no magic, I was technically outside their jurisdiction—but they were the ones who’d kick me out of the Crow and Hammer the moment they got their hands on my paperwork and learned of my existence.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Clara kept losing my form.

“I can’t wait to get my own place. It’s going to be heaven.” As I investigated the liquor quantities in my well, I frowned at a half-empty rum bottle. “Furnishing it might be tricky, though.”

“Buy a new bed and get everything else second hand,” Kai advised. “I know a girl who’s moving next month. I can check if she’s selling off her old furniture.”

“Is this the girl you went out with last night? You had a date, right?”

Aaron and Ezra snickered.

Kai’s expression went oddly blank. “No … different girl.”

“Ask how his date went,” Aaron suggested, his blue eyes sparkling.

“How was your date?” I asked immediately.

Kai, being exceptionally gorgeous and radiating the perfect blend of mysterious and disinterested, attracted women like hummingbirds to nectar. I swear, they just threw their phone numbers at him as he walked down the street. He was always out with a new girl and usually good for a bad date story at least once a week.

But this time, he said nothing, focusing intently on his laptop.

“Aww, come on, Kai,” I cajoled. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Oh, it was,” Aaron said gleefully. “Tell her, Kai.”

He hunched over the laptop, ignoring us.

Leaving Aaron to tease him, I zipped through my opening routine—cleaning, stocking, and preparing for the small dinner rush. As I was chopping oranges into wheels, the back door opened and Ramsey breezed into the kitchen, his arms loaded with grocery bags.

“The freezer broke again,” he announced, tossing his head to flip his black hair—shaved on one side and chin-length on the other—out of his eyes. “I bought a few packs of burgers and frozen fries, but that’s it for menu options today.”

“Damn.” I dumped the oranges into my garnish tray. “Need any help with that?”

“Nah, I’m good.” He set his bags on the counter. “By the way, the collector is offering $35,000 now.”

My stomach turned over in an unsettling way. “I’m not selling my Queen of Spades card. You should never have told him it was up for sale.”

“I was buttering him up so I could buy a grimoire off him. He really wants the card.”

Despite his day job as a cook, Ramsey was an apprentice almost ready to graduate to big-boy sorcerer pants. He specialized in enchanted artifacts of the counter-magic variety.

“Not happening,” I replied. Not even for—I shuddered—thirty-five grand. I could really use the money, but I could use my ass, undamaged, more. The Queen of Spades artifact was my only magical defense and I wasn’t letting it go for anything less than a wand that could turn all my enemies into frogs.

Not that I had enemies—the murdering kind, anyway—but when it came to mythics, a girl never knew when she might need to lay an overpowered dickhead out.

That was the thing about this job. I never should have set foot in this building, but through a combination of coincidence and stubbornness, I’d gotten a job at the last place a human should work: a guild.

So here I was.

By the time I finished prep, the bar was hopping with customers. I’d worked a lot of restaurant jobs, but before this one, I’d never encountered an establishment that attracted such a bizarre mix of people. For good reason, though. This wasn’t your typical bar, and the Crow and Hammer wasn’t your typical guild.

Tonight, my customers ranged from the ever-irascible sorceress Sylvia, an old hag who loved to hate me, and her banana-haired apprentice, Alyssa; Bryce and Drew, who looked like teeth-bashing bouncers but were actually psychics—a telepath and a telekinetic; Laetitia, the water-flinging hydromage; and Rose, a grandmotherly diviner with turquoise glasses and an endless supply of colorful knit caps.

Sin, who’d successfully skipped the whole shouting match when we arrived, surfaced with her alchemist friend Riley. The curly-haired, dusky-skinned young woman had acquired odd yellow sparkles down one arm since I last saw her. Alchemy was tricky, or so I’ve been told.

I dropped off three rum and cokes for Aaron, Kai, and Ezra, then got to work, taking food orders and mixing drinks. The pleasant buzz of conversations filled the pub, and the dinner rush sped by.

When things cooled down, Kai came over with three empty glasses. He, Aaron, and Ezra had moved to a quiet corner to work, leaving their usual spot at my bar empty.

“Another round, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” I pulled out three new glasses. “Was your date last night that horrendous?”

He sighed. “You never let anything go.”

“Come on. Let me live vicariously through you.”

“Why don’t you go on dates yourself?” he asked dryly.

I raised a finger. “One, I’m not the James Bond type like you.” He opened his mouth to speak but I held up a second finger. “Two, I don’t have money to pay for dates. I’m saving up for my new place.” A third finger. “And three, it’s way more fun to hear about your dates than put in effort myself.”

“James Bond?” he repeated bemusedly.

“Dark and handsome, mysterious, dangerous. Just embrace it, Kai.”

“Do I seem dangerous to you?”

“Not at first, but I’ve seen what you can do.” I waved a hand. “Anyway, my point is I’m not cut out for dating right now.”

“You have a willing victim dying to treat you,” he pointed out.

Across the pub, Aaron was gesturing at the laptop while Ezra frowned doubtfully. Aaron had asked me out weeks ago, but between my schedule and his, we’d managed four last-minute cancelations, one no-show when the guild had called him to an emergency, and a lunch date that had gone surprisingly well—until two members of a rival guild interrupted us.

That had been my first experience with rival mythics in the wild. Not fun. Other guilds didn’t think highly of the Crow and Hammer, and the pair of mages had taunted Aaron, knowing he couldn’t retaliate in public. They’d antagonized us right up until I’d asked one if his ass ever got jealous of the shit coming out of his mouth, and at that point Aaron decided we should leave.

“Well, yeah,” I muttered. “We tried …”

“Try again,” Kai suggested. “Unless you’d like me to take you out instead. I’ll show Aaron how it’s done.”

My heart skipped a beat. Wide-eyed, I wondered if he was joking.

He picked up the three drinks. “Join us when you have a few minutes.”

“Right …”

He walked off and I shook my head. Joking. He’d been joking. I was pretty sure, anyway. Kai had no shortage of willing women to date, and in the two months I’d known him, he’d never so much as flirted with me. The only person I’d be more surprised to have ask me out was Ezra. I shot a flinty stare at Kai’s back. He enjoyed messing with his friends a bit too much.

My glare faded, replaced by a small smile. Humming to myself, I resumed wiping up the drips and spills along the bar.

An hour later when I exited the kitchen, Aaron, Kai, and Ezra had shifted back to their usual spot at the bar. I splashed champagne into a glass and topped it with orange juice, then slid the mimosa to Alyssa. Tucking my towel into my apron, I joined the guys, the bar between us.

“Finally,” Aaron complained good-naturedly. “Got a few minutes?”

I’d thought Kai had invited me over to visit with them—or, more likely, to distract Aaron so he and Ezra could get some work done—but apparently it was more than that. Curious, I pulled my spare stool over and sat across from them. “What’s up?”

The three mages exchanged a somber look as though deciding who should speak first, and my curiosity morphed into unease.

“Well.” Aaron cleared his throat. “There’s a job we want to take on, but … we need your help.”

My mouth fell open. “Me? My help?”

“Yes, you.”

“Uh, in case you’ve forgotten, I’m a bartender, not a guild member. Also, I’m a human. Like, a ‘not one drop of magical blood and didn’t even know mythics existed until two months ago’ human.”

Kai smiled, the expression somehow chilling. “Exactly.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s the job?”

Propping his elbow on the bar, Aaron said, “We should have drinks first. Make yourself one, too.”

I poured them another round of rum and cokes—at least they were easy customers—then pondered what I wanted. After a moment’s thought, I scooped ice into a shaker, added light rum, lime juice, and my favorite sweet syrup, and gave it a vigorous shake. Pouring the mixture in a coupe glass, I popped on a lime for garnish and returned to my seat.

“A daiquiri? Good choice.” Aaron turned the laptop around to show me the screen. “Perfect drink for a chat about the dark arts.”

CHAPTER THREE

The laptop screen glowed with the image of a girl—mousy brown hair in a boyish cut, pale skin, sunken cheeks, and big blue eyes that stared hollowly at the camera.

My heart constricted. Though I’d only seen the photo once, I remembered her face. Four or five weeks ago, Aaron had shown me the MPD Archives—an online database of everything mythic-related, from the different guilds to job postings to bounties on criminal rogues. He’d clicked on a listing about a missing girl—this girl.

As I tore my eyes away from the screen, my brain caught up to what he’d said. “Wait, dark arts?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, finally, something I understand. I’ve read all the Harry Potter books.”

Ezra snorted, his mismatched eyes—one warm brown, the other pale ice—sparking with humor. “As much as it disappoints me to say it, Defense Against the Dark Arts won’t be much help.”

“Damn.”

“Real-life dark arts aren’t as cool as in Harry Potter,” Kai said. “Scarier, though.”

My gaze drifted back to the photo of the girl. “I’m afraid to ask what scary dark arts have to do with her. Is she still missing?”

His expression sobering, Aaron nodded. “When we looked at the posting before, she was recently listed as missing with suspected mythic involvement. Like I said then, we aren’t set up for missing human investigations and had to leave it for another guild.”

“No other guild took the job?”

“At that point, it wasn’t a job. It was a Wanted Ad—a listing of suspicious activity that anyone can investigate in hopes of getting a bonus afterward. In this case, some mythics looked into it, and the results aren’t good.”

Kai pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, then held it out to me. On it was another photo of the girl. This time, a beaming old couple was hugging her from either side. The man, thin on top and thick in the middle, had one arm around his wife, a skinny lady with crow’s-feet around her eyes. A loving family photo. Maybe I was imagining it, but the girl’s smile seemed empty, her blue eyes as hollow as in the other photo.

“Her name is Nadine River,” Kai said. “These are her parents. Last week, they contacted the guild.”

“But … aren’t they human?” I asked in confusion. Aside from my fluke arrival, humans and guilds didn’t mix.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket. “They are, but they asked enough questions and pestered enough people about their missing daughter that someone eventually put them in contact with us. As far as they know, we’re private investigators.”

“That got us looking at the girl’s listing again,” Aaron said, pushing the laptop toward me. “Check out the notes.”

Beneath the brief listing with Nadine’s photo and the details of her disappearance were dated notes. A mythic had shared a copy of the missing person report from the police. A few days later someone else posted that they’d checked out her home for evidence of mythic involvement. A psychic did a reading and suggested personal tragedy as a factor to consider. Another mythic shared an update about the girl’s school, no suspicious activity detected.

The updates continued, a new one every few days, as different mythics took up a piece of the investigation and shared it with the others who wanted to bring this girl, a total stranger, home safely. I swallowed hard, scrolling down as the mythics determined that Nadine had run away from home, turned up at a homeless shelter, then … vanished. The last update was dated three weeks ago.

“‘Confirmed,’” I read aloud. “‘Nadine’s last known interaction was with the Ghost. Ceasing investigation.’ Who is the Ghost?”

Aaron reached across the laptop and switched to a different tab. A new webpage in MPD’s hideously outdated white layout appeared. The photo square was blank, but the page was full of text: crime after criminal charge after suspected illegal activity after crime. In place of a name, it said, “The Hungry Ghost.”

Kai stared broodily at the screen. “He’s named after a Chinese myth about dead souls guilty of the sin of greed, condemned to suffer eternal hunger and tirelessly devour other lost souls. All anyone knows is he’s a rogue who ‘collects’ stranded and vulnerable mythics. Anyone who disappears around him is never seen again.”

Gooseflesh rose over my arms. I took a half-hearted sip of my daiquiri, and as the sweetness coated my tongue, it chased away the shivery shadow the rogue’s description had awakened. “This Ghost person took Nadine? If we know who has her, why did everyone stop investigating?”

“No one can catch the Ghost,” Ezra murmured. “We don’t know what class he is, what he looks like, how he operates … nothing. No one has seen his face. No one knows his name.”

“It’s a dead end.” Kai stirred his rum and coke with his straw. “The mythics searching for Nadine ceased the investigation because, even if they could find the Ghost, they’re afraid to cross him.”

“So … that’s it?” I looked between them incredulously. “Everyone is giving up? Just abandoning Nadine to the Ghost?”

“Everyone else,” Aaron corrected. “You didn’t think we were showing you this just to be depressing, did you?”

“But you said it’s a dead end. No one’s ever caught the Ghost.”

“No one has ever caught him … yet. The bounty on this guy is insane. Even splitting it across a team, it should be enough to cover your rent for, oh … how much is your rent?”

“Uh.” I squinted at Aaron. “My rent?”

“You don’t have to use it for rent. You can spend the money however you’d like.” When I stared at him blankly, he added, “Assuming you want to help.”

Right. That’s how we’d started this conversation, wasn’t it? “How can I possibly help?”

“The Ghost shows up for a few reasons,” Kai said. “Mainly, dealing in illegal potions and artifacts, obliterating anyone who crosses him, and abducting mythics. Short of immersing ourselves in the local black market, we can’t catch him at the first one. We don’t want to tempt him to kill us with the second one. So that leaves the third option.”

Ezra nodded. “He targets vulnerable, exposed mythics—runaways like Nadine, homeless rogues, children of mythics who—”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “Nadine is human.”

“That’s what everyone thought,” Ezra said. “It’s what Nadine thinks. But we did some digging and it looks like Nadine is adopted. If the Ghost took her, chances are she has mythic blood and doesn’t know it.”

“The Ghost has a thing for young, down-on-their-luck mythics with nowhere to go.” Aaron took a swig of his drink. “The bastard is careful, though. He has contacts on the streets who watch for likely victims. We could target his contacts—MagiPol has picked up almost a dozen over the years—but they never have any useful information. And the Ghost won’t so much as look at a runaway with any kind of guild association. Too risky.”

“That’s where you come in,” Kai said.

“Me?”

“You’re invisible to the system,” Aaron explained. “You aren’t registered, you aren’t guilded, and as far as MPD records are concerned, you don’t exist. On paper, you have no ties to guilds or mythics.”

“Yeah, that’s because I’m not a mythic.”

“That we can fake long enough to lure the Ghost out.” Kai tapped his laptop. “We’ve identified the last person Nadine talked to—a worker at the youth shelter she stayed at—and we think he’s one of the Ghost’s contacts. If me, Aaron, or Ezra approach him, he could bolt or tip off the Ghost. Even if we tag him, we doubt the Ghost is dumb enough to reveal his whereabouts to anyone.”

“Let me guess.” I propped my chin on my palm. “You want me to pretend to be a vulnerable, destitute mythic and wander around the shelter until this guy points me toward the Ghost. Or points the Ghost toward me.”

“Exactly.” Aaron gave me a winning smile. “So, are you in?”

“Am I allowed to? I work for the guild, but I’m not a member. And people will notice me helping you guys—so don’t tell me we’re just following the ‘second rule.’” I added air quotes for the last two words.

“Not the second rule.” Aaron smirked. “The third.”

The third rule? I’d never heard of a third one before. I only knew two guild rules: One, don’t hit first, but always hit back, and two, don’t get caught. All things considered, their rules didn’t inspire much confidence.

Before I could ask about the third, Ezra said, “If the contact sends you to meet the Ghost, you’ll need to follow through so the Ghost shows himself. But that’s all you have to do. We’ll take over from that point.”

“Is that it?” I pulled a disbelieving face. “I get a cut of the bounty just for that?”

“Think of it as hazard pay,” Kai advised, surprisingly somber. “We’ll do everything we can to ensure your safety, but the Ghost is unpredictable and no one in the Crow and Hammer has ever gone up against him before. It’ll be dangerous.”

“Not that dangerous,” Aaron countered hastily. “We’ll be right there.”

Frowning, I pulled Kai’s laptop closer and clicked through the tabs until I found the Ghost’s listing. He was associated with a chilling number of crimes, from selling illicit substances to murder.

I switched to Nadine’s page and studied her photo, her empty expression, her vacant eyes. I knew those eyes—hollow, hopeless, unhappy. I’d seen them a hundred times before, staring back at me from the mirror when I was her age. I’d waited and waited and waited for someone to save me. Eventually, my brother had rescued me from my alcoholic piece-of-shit father, but for so long, I’d been convinced I was trapped.

Was Nadine trapped? Had she given up hope that anyone would save her? Did she believe, like I had, that no one cared and no one ever would?

I looked from her photo to the three mages sitting across from me. “I’ll do it. When do we start?”

Aaron grinned, unsurprised by my agreement. “Whenever you’re ready.”

The very next morning, I was standing in the middle of a thrift store, my nose wrinkled as I tried to block out the musty odor of old clothes. We were here to pick out my disguise, and it was serious business. Nadine’s life depended on our efforts, and the first step was making sure I could pass for a teenager.

“This! It’s perfect!”

With a cackling laugh, Aaron held up a t-shirt, the front emblazoned with an ostrich head shooting laser beams from its eyes.

I sighed. It was supposed to be serious.

“No, no,” Ezra exclaimed, popping out from another aisle. “This is better!”

He triumphantly displayed a fluffy, adult-sized onesie with dalmatian spots and floppy dog ears on the hood.

Aaron snorted so loudly a nearby shopper looked around in alarm. “I would pay money to see Tori wear that.”

“Sure thing,” I said. “Bidding starts at a hundred grand.”

“You do realize I can afford that, right?”

“Then why is your car so lame?”

He gasped. “What do you mean, lame? My car is awesome!”

“Can we focus?” Kai snapped. He hovered behind me, hands in his pockets like he intended to touch absolutely nothing. “We don’t have all day.”

Technically, we did. I’d finished my summer term classes last week and swapped today’s shift with Cooper, who normally covered Sundays and Mondays. But seeing as I wanted to get this over with too, I kept quiet.

With a fond look at the dog onesie, Ezra vanished down an aisle to replace it.

Aaron dropped the atrocious ostrich shirt onto a rack. “What are we here for again?”

“Clothes that will make me look several years younger.”

He scanned the nearest items and selected one at random—a pair of cut-off jean shorts with a waist so high I’d be belting them around my ears. “What about these?”

“Do I look like an XXL to you?”

He returned them to the rack. “I’ve gotta be honest here. I have no clue what teen girls wear.”

Kai, positioned behind me like we were locked in orbit, muttered his agreement, and I wondered if my choice of store was throwing them off as much as their lack of teen fashion sense. Considering Aaron’s parents were super-rich, renowned mage instructors, and Kai’s family—not that he’d ever mentioned his family—had paid to put him through said extra-exclusive academy, I doubted either guy had set foot in a thrift store before, never mind shopped at one.

Ezra, on the other hand … with him, I could never be sure. He was browsing a rack of women’s shirts, as relaxed as always.

“We need casual clothes that don’t look brand new. I’m supposed to be a teenager who’s recently run away from home, right? I need something like …” I ran my hand along the rack and pulled out a pair of skinny jeans with artfully ripped thighs. “These might work. And these ones here too.”

As I flipped the two pairs over my shoulder, Aaron rifled through more hangers. Choking on a laugh, he pulled out something that vaguely resembled paisley drapes in the shape of parachute pants. “Wow. I think MC Hammer just rolled over in his grave.”

“MC Hammer isn’t dead,” Kai told him.

“He would be if he ever laid eyes on these pants.”

I pushed my bangs out of my face. “Aaron, why don’t you go check for backpacks? I’ll need one.”

Grinning at my obvious attempt to get rid of him, he replaced the eyeball-assaulting pants and sauntered off. Normally I’d be cracking jokes right along with him, but I didn’t enjoy thrift shops. They reminded me of my childhood—not just the hours spent in search of clothes the kids at school wouldn’t laugh at, but also the ugly reasons I’d been shopping by myself with scrounged pocket change.

Kai followed me down the aisle, and as I perused the garments for anything my tasteless teen self would’ve loved to wear, I asked, “What do we know about this Ghost guy besides him being a murdering psycho who abducts teenage girls?”

“He first came to MPD’s attention eight years ago.” Kai kept his voice low as a heavyset woman with an armload of shirts passed us in the next aisle. “He’s grown more active over the years. He’s especially involved in the black market—buying and selling anything that could be considered dark arts. Potions, poisons, artifacts, weapons. The items he buys are usually much nastier than what he sells.”

“So he’s probably built up a nice stockpile.” I added a black denim jacket with silver buttons to my collection. “Fantastic.”

Kai paused to squint at a sunhat with a giant yellow bow. “Based on that, most people assume he’s an Arcana mythic, but others insist he’s a mage.”

“Anyone can collect and use Arcana artifacts though, right?” Prime example: me with my Queen of Spades card.

“That’s why there’s so much uncertainty. Our working theory is he’s a di-mythic.”

“A what?”

“A di-mythic is—”

“Guys!”

Aaron bounded out from between shelves—or I assumed it was Aaron. A giant rubber crow head covered his face, and I recoiled so violently I stumbled into Kai.

“What the hell is—”

“Isn’t it awesome?” Aaron demanded, the mask thing muffling his voice. The crow’s blank plastic eyes stared in opposite directions.

“I can’t believe you put that on your head.” I wrinkled my nose. “Who knows where it’s been?”

He pulled it off. “Maybe we should call ourselves crows instead of hammers.”

“Did you find any backpacks?” I asked.

“Umm. I didn’t see any.”

Ezra wandered out from between two tall shelves, a faded orange backpack in one hand. “How’s this?”

“Perfect. Thanks, Ezra.” I added it to my pile. “This should do it. Let’s go pay.”

We headed to the front of the store and got in line. While the cashier slowly sorted through a customer’s giant stack of disintegrating romance novels, I checked that no one was close enough to eavesdrop, then turned to Kai. “You mentioned ‘di-mythic.’ What’s that?”

“A mythic who’s gifted in—and trained in—two classes,” he explained. “A mage with psychic abilities, a sorcerer with a demon contract, and so on. It’s rare. We’re hypothesizing that the Ghost is an Arcana di-mythic with abilities in another class.”

“We just don’t know which other class,” Aaron added. “Based on power alone, I’d say Elementaria.”

“A mage-sorcerer sounds terrifying,” I said with a shudder. The two most powerful magics combined in one super-evil bad guy.

“Yeah. The sooner we take him down, the better.”

Something about Aaron’s tone gave me pause. I looked across the three mages and lowered my voice to a whisper. “What’s the plan, exactly? Capture him?”

Aaron twisted his mouth. “His bounty is DOA.”

I went still. DOA. Dead or alive.

“We want to take him alive,” Kai murmured. “But we can’t be too cautious or he’ll use that to his advantage. He won’t hold back.”

Did I want to participate in this plan, knowing a man might die? I thought for a moment. If the man was a teen-kidnapping, murdering sleazebag, then yeah, I was cool with it. But I wasn’t so keen on Aaron, Kai, and Ezra going up against him.

“If no one has ever gotten a decent shot at catching the Ghost,” I said, “what if he’s too much for you three?”

Ezra smiled, his contagious calm seeping through me. “We aren’t taking chances. If we can lure out the Ghost, we’ll have the best backup from our guild waiting to jump in.”

“Oh.” That was smart. Probably Kai’s idea. “I guess we can share the bounty with them.”

Aaron slid his arm around my waist, steering me to the front counter as the book buyer carted her bags off. “You don’t have to split your cut with anyone. We’ll divvy up the payout based on each person’s role.”

I frowned but he gave me a squeeze.

“You’re earning your share, don’t worry. Playing the bait isn’t the safest job.”

“But we’ll have your back,” Ezra added reassuringly.

I nodded, distracted by Aaron’s warm arm around my waist. This was probably a bad idea. I was just a human. Why was I getting tangled up in a scheme to capture the baddest rogue in the city?

Nadine’s photo formed in my mind’s eye. Right. That’s why.

As far as she knew, she was just a human like me. Whatever magic she had, she didn’t know how to use it. Nor did she have three powerful mages ready to defend her. If I could help get her home safely, I would take on the risks of playing bait—and a lot more.

As I piled my “new” clothes on the counter, I noticed a dark shape tucked under Aaron’s other arm. “You forgot to put the crow mask back.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I’m buying it. I think it’ll look great above Tabitha’s desk, watching her while she works.”

“Umm, yeah, I don’t think she’ll like that.”

His smile widened, a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. “Maybe not, but Sin has a recipe for an adhesive that makes superglue look like sticky tack.”

Grinning, I took the crow head and added it to the pile.

CHAPTER FOUR

Once Aaron, Ezra, and Kai got an idea in their heads, they moved damn fast. We finished at the thrift shop, then stopped for lunch where four old ladies giggled and winked at me, presumably for having such attractive tablemates—not weird at all, thanks grannies. After that, we headed back to the guild where Sabrina gave me a crash course in diviner magic and tarot card reading.

Now here I was, a few hours later, set up in the drop-in center at a youth shelter, dressed in a new thrift-store outfit and trying my best to look lost and helpless.

Sitting crossed-legged on a stiff sofa, I fanned out five cards and thoroughly examined each one. How did a drawing of a naked couple predict the future? Who used tarot cards to decide if they should bang someone?

The drop-in center was open and bright, stretching across the front of the building with a wall of windows facing me. Frosted glass obscured the street outside, and utilitarian sofas, plastic chairs, and tables filled the space, with a half-dozen computer desks lining the back wall. The white paint was covered with bright posters—descriptions of services offered by the center, art and music programs, tutoring and lessons, work and housing assistance, medical office hours, and more.

I imagined Nadine sitting in this same spot. She’d just run away from home, and for the first time in her life, she was facing the cold, wide-open adult world. This was a good place for her to end up—private, protected, and run by people dedicated to helping at-risk youth. If things had gone differently, she would have gotten all the help she needed.

Instead, a corrupt shitbag had sent her straight into the clutches of the city’s most terrifying rogue mythic.

Gregory Stern, according to Kai’s research, was a sorcerer who’d never completed his apprenticeship. After slipping into heavy alcoholism and getting booted from multiple guilds, he’d joined a sleeper guild—a type of guild where mythics paid a basic membership fee and otherwise lived their lives as regular humans, zero magical involvement in anything. From what we’d learned, Gregory had cleaned up his act, moved through several rehabs and support type jobs, then settled at the youth shelter, where he was a respected counselor known for his easygoing approach and ability to connect with difficult teens.

He wasn’t so well known for trading vulnerable magic-gifted kids to the Ghost on the side.

With my backpack tucked close, I laid out seven tarot cards on the seat beside me. Just in case Gregory wanted proof of my supposed mythic abilities, we’d chosen an easily fudged talent. Good thing, too, because my acting skills had already been thoroughly tested. I’d gone through an involved check-in process, then met with two different counselors who’d walked me through all the shelter’s services, gently probed me about my situation, and filled my backpack with pamphlets and printouts for everything I could possibly need.

It made my heart ache. This place should have been Nadine’s salvation. It wasn’t a shelter so much as a resource center offering everything a teenager could need, whether they were struggling, homeless, or anywhere in between.

Idly flipping the tarot cards, I scanned the nearest people. A young woman managed the desk at the front, and almost twenty kids were scattered around the room, quietly doing their own thing. No sign of Gregory.

Resigning myself to a long wait, I slipped my phone out and texted Aaron. The guys were nearby but keeping out of sight, ready to leap to my defense, but they wanted me to check in every ten minutes.

An hour crawled by, then another. I alternated between fiddling with my borrowed tarot cards and texting Aaron, but my thoughts dwelled on Nadine.

What had driven her to run away from home? In the family photo Kai had shown me, her parents were embracing her like they couldn’t have loved her more, but there was a familiar vacancy to her face that made me wonder how happy her home life had been.

Drawing my knees up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them, staring at the meaningless tarot cards. I knew all about broken families and deceptive parents. My father was a master at appearing not only functional, but charming and sympathetic. In the eyes of other adults, I’d been the rebel child, the troublemaker, the liar.

In grade school, when I’d told a lunch supervisor that I never ate anything because there was no food in my house, she scolded me for being a picky eater. When I told my junior high science teacher that I didn’t finish my homework because I spent the weekend sleeping in a park to avoid my father, he rolled his eyes at my melodramatic excuses. When I told my aunt I was afraid to go home because my father’s drinking buddies were there, she scoffed and called me ungrateful for the roof over my head.

No one had believed anything—not that my father spent most nights in a drunken rage that settled into a drunken stupor, not that his private nickname for me was “stupid cow,” and not that I spent every moment at home terrified of triggering his temper. No, I was a drama queen child and he was a loving father who enjoyed a relaxing beer or two in the evening. Even if he had a few too many on occasion—no biggie, right?

The hopeless rage of those years was easy to recall, and the longer I sat on the sofa, surrounded by quiet teens with nowhere else to go, the feeling crept through me until I was vibrating, jaw clenched and hands shaking. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to pull myself together. I was an adult now. I’d moved across the country to start a new life away from my father, and I was surviving just fine on my own. He had no power over me. I was in control of my future.

“Hello. Would you be Victoria?”

My eyes snapped open. A man sat on the sofa and smiled welcomingly, my tarot cards between us. Gregory Stern. He’d aged since his MagiPol photo, but he was unmistakably the same guy. White hair, big bald spot, portly build, and surprisingly warm brown eyes almost lost in deep wrinkles.

The old, impotent rage of my worst years burned through me, and I sucked in air through my nose. I needed to get a hold of myself before I blew this.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he continued. “I’m Greg, a counselor here.”

He offered his hand and I reluctantly shook it. I wanted to grab him by the shirtfront and demand to know where he’d sent Nadine—and how many other helpless kids he’d callously thrown into the mythic underworld.

“Jennifer mentioned that she spoke to you earlier,” he said. “How are you feeling? Did you have any questions?”

Teeth gritted, I searched his eyes for signs of deception. He sounded genuinely caring, like he really wanted to know how I was coping.

When I took too long to respond, his expression softened. “I won’t say I know how you’re feeling, Victoria. The challenges you’re facing are uniquely your own, but you aren’t alone. That I do know. You don’t have to fight through this by yourself, and if you want to talk, we’re always here. Anything you share with us is private, which I’m sure Jennifer explained.”

My practiced cover story evaporated from my head. I gave a short nod, unable to find a trap in his words, but his earnest compassion was a trap in itself. Even knowing he was a scumbag, part of me wanted to believe he was here to help. A scared teen would be even more susceptible.

And he was a patient hunter, too. Instead of forcing me to communicate, he stood up. He was leaving. Shit.

With a sharp twitch of my hand, I knocked my tarot deck across the sofa. A single card tumbled off and landed face up on the floor. Gregory paused in surprise, then retrieved it from between his feet. The dark specter of a grim reaper filled the card. Huh. Creepy.

He gazed at the card for a long moment, then held it out to me.

I took it from him, unsmiling, and said without thinking, “Death is hungry.”

His lined forehead wrinkled. “Sorry?”

Uh, what? Where had that come from? It wasn’t part of my script, that was for sure. I quickly gathered the nearest cards. “Death appears in every spread I deal,” I muttered darkly, doing my best spooky diviner impression. “I don’t understand yet.”

“The wisdom of the cards can take time to process,” he replied encouragingly. “Do you do tarot readings often?”

“Every day.” I straightened the deck, hoping he assumed my clumsiness stemmed from nerves and not a lack of practice. “My grandmother taught me all the arts.”

“Divination arts?”

I nodded. “The tarot cards … she said they speak to me.”

“Is that so?” He sank onto the sofa again. “Your grandmother sounds like a remarkable woman. Did she practice divination every day as well?”

“She and my mom. But they …” I looked down at the cards, stroking my fingers across the top one. Taken with a sudden urge, I flipped it over to reveal the reaper a second time. Hadn’t I put the Death card at the bottom of the deck? “They’re gone.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he murmured, eyeing the reaper warily.

I slipped the card into the middle of the deck and gave a distant shrug. “My dad kicked me out. He doesn’t … understand. People think I’m creepy.”

“With a unique gift like yours, you might …” He trailed off as, following another inexplicable urge, I drew the top card off the deck and flipped it over. The reaper, three times in a row.

Gooseflesh rose on my arms and I fanned out the deck, half expecting to find it full of Death cards. But no, just one—one card that had somehow ended up on top again.

Gregory’s throat moved as he swallowed.

I placed the reaper back on the deck and mumbled, “Death is hungry.”

“Victoria, is there anyone else in your life you can turn to? Anyone who can help?”

“No,” I whispered, gripping the tarot cards so tightly my fingers went white. Those questions hit too close to home. Five years ago, my real answer would’ve been the same as my fake one—though no one had ever bothered to ask me.

Gregory thought for a moment. “We offer many generalized services you might find helpful, but we also have unique resources available for … special individuals. For those with extraordinary gifts like yourself. If you’d like, I could arrange for you to meet with someone.”

Unique resources. Did he have mythic counselors on call or was he referring to the Ghost? Either way, he was too smooth. No wonder Nadine had fallen for his act.

I smiled hopefully. “Really?”

He nodded. “For now, can I set you up at the safe house?”

“I have somewhere I can stay for the night, but if I come back tomorrow, would you …?”

“I’ll look into it right away.” His eyebrows drew down. “Will you be safe tonight?”

Again, his concern seemed sincere. Was he worried his payday might not make it back? “Yes.”

“All right, I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Take care of yourself, Victoria.”

Standing, he moved to speak to another teen. I slumped into the sofa and grabbed my phone, texting Aaron that I’d spoken to Gregory and would leave in another half hour. Didn’t want to rush out the door and give myself away.

While I waited, I watched Gregory out of the corner of my eye, my fury building again as he made his way from teen to teen, comforting their fears and winning their trust. He was very good at his job, and if he weren’t secretly a scumbag, he would be exactly what these kids needed. Quiet, soft-spoken, respectful. If I hadn’t known the truth beforehand, I never would have doubted him and I was grudgingly impressed by his ability to come across as legit.

I hoped I’d done as good a job fooling him.

CHAPTER FIVE

“No offense, Sabrina,” I said, “but your tarot cards are seriously creepy.”

We were sitting at a table in the guild, and I’d just finished explaining how the Death card had made a real show of itself during my chat with Gregory. The pretty blond diviner studied her spare deck, lying on the worn wooden tabletop between us.

She absently brushed her bottle-blond hair away from her eyes. “Older decks like this one can become so attuned to astral forces that they take on a life of their own. Were you handling the cards a lot before that?”

“Yeah, I was shuffling them for … a couple hours, I guess.”

She nodded slowly. “I think the deck is trying to send you a message.”

A shiver ran down my spine. Ugh. “But why the Death card—again?”

When Sabrina did a reading for me weeks ago, the “outcome” had been, guess who, the skull-head-in-black himself. She’d assured me the card meant transition, not literal death, but it was still unnerving.

Tapping a finger against her glossy pink lips, she eyed the deck, then gestured. “Shuffle them again.”

“Do I have to?” Picking up the deck, I unenthusiastically shuffled it. Despite their behavior yesterday, the cards felt totally mundane. Finished, I set them on the table between us.

I expected her to do another reading, but instead she pointed. “What’s the first card?”

Stomach sinking, I pulled the card and flipped it over. Yep, Death. Again. Cold unease pooled in my gut.

“Now flip the next card,” Sabrina instructed.

I slipped it off the pile and turned it over.

“Seven of Swords,” she murmured. “That’s another card from your reading.”

Right, I remembered it. “It means deception.”

She leaned back in her seat, frowning. “Maybe the path from your original reading hasn’t concluded yet.”

“But … I thought all that stuff where, you know, Aaron and I were betrayed and almost killed was what the reading was all about.”

“That’s what I thought too, but maybe not. Deception … secrets …”

“Dangerous secrets,” I muttered, a memory springing to life. “If I seek the truth, it won’t be my fate alone bared to the reaper’s blade.”

Sabrina’s frown deepened. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“You didn’t. Rose did.” The eldest diviner of the guild had nosed into Sabrina’s reading and given a different interpretation of the cards—one that, until now, I’d completely disregarded.

Sabrina huffed. “She can’t read my cards properly. She shouldn’t have interfered.”

“I get that, and I haven’t thought about her reading since then, but … she talked about secrets and seeking the truth, and isn’t that what I’m doing? Seeking the truth about Nadine? And her fate is tied to mine, since I’m trying to save her.”

“I suppose …” Sabrina bit her lower lip. “Maybe I should do another reading. These cards want to speak of your future.”

Apprehension dove through my center. “I—”

With thudding footsteps, Aaron trotted down the staircase in the corner. “Tori, ready to go?”

Relieved, I jumped up. “Yeah, ready!” To Sabrina, I added, “Next time, maybe?”

“Sure.” She smiled wanly. “Don’t forget the cards.”

Grabbing the deck, I gave her a quick wave as I stuffed them into my backpack. I was already dressed for my second—and hopefully last—visit to the youth shelter.

Aaron waved me toward the bar. “I’m parked in the back.”

Deciding not to comment on his disregard for kitchen rules—why bother when breaking rules was a point of pride for most guild members?—I fell into step beside him as we pushed through the saloon doors. Food and drink service didn’t start until four, so the kitchen was clean and abandoned, and would stay that way for another couple hours.

Aaron assessed my outfit. “You picked good clothes for your disguise. You look about seventeen.”

He didn’t sound pleased about that last part, and I smirked. Since he was a few years older than my fresh-faced twenty-one, my sudden youthfulness probably unnerved him.

“Thanks.” I slapped at my skintight jeans, the tears in the thighs baring strips of my fair skin. “Can’t say these are to my taste now, but sixteen-year-old me would approve.”

He laughed as we rounded the corner. I reached for the back door, but he tugged me to a stop—then pulled me into his chest. My heart gave an extra hard thump.

“When you’re back to looking legal again,” he said, “we need to reschedule our date.”

I wound my arms around his neck. “Right after we capture the Big Bad and rescue the damsel in distress.”

“Immediately after. And this time, I’m turning my phone off.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Can too.” His hands slid down to the small of my back—pulling my hips into him. “One night won’t hurt.”

Heat fluttered through me, as hot as his flames, and I tipped my head back to give him an arch look. “What makes you think I’d spend the night?”

“You mean you don’t want to play video games into the wee hours of the morning? You had so much fun losing last time.”

Snorting, I opened my mouth to disagree, but he leaned down. Abandoning my comeback, I stretched onto my tiptoes. His soft lips brushed across mine—

Then the door flew open and Ezra walked in.

With his attention on his phone, he almost crashed into us before his head came up. Lurching to a stop, his mismatched eyes widened in surprise. “Oh! Sorry.”

I leaped off Aaron like he’d burned me, my cheeks flushing hot. Before meeting the guys, I’d been all but immune to blushing, and I strongly regretted the loss of that ability as Ezra took two quick steps back, looking as embarrassed as I felt.

“Sorry,” he said again, waving his phone. “You weren’t answering and I didn’t know what was taking you so … long.”

“Impatient much?” Aaron asked amusedly. He didn’t comment on my undoubtedly beet-red face, instead grabbing my hand and pulling me outside with him. “Let’s get going, then.”

Hurrying alongside Aaron, I peeked back at Ezra, but aside from that initial flash of embarrassment, he was back to his usual unflappable self. Shaking off my inexplicable discomfort, I waited while Ezra climbed into the backseat of Aaron’s old two-door sports car, then hopped into the passenger seat and buckled up.

I used the short car ride to pull myself together. Aaron parked in a lot a few blocks from the youth shelter and we unloaded from the car. Tugging my shirt straight, I glanced between the two guys. Kai had joined a C&H team that was one combat expert short, so he was off electrocuting rogues for the next twenty-four hours. I found it weird that he wasn’t with us.

“Take your time,” Aaron advised me. “Gregory should have researched you thoroughly by now. Since you aren’t in the MPD archives, he’s probably decided you’re unregistered and ‘safe’ for the Ghost. I’m not sure what his next move will be. He’ll either put you in contact with the Ghost, or the Ghost will come looking for you. What Gregory tells you—or doesn’t tell you—should give us an idea. Stay in character and wait for him to come to you.”

“Got it.” I slung my backpack over my shoulder. “I’ll be back in two hours.”

With a wave, I strode toward the main street. Nerves twisted in my stomach but I ignored them. I’d do better this time. No teen-flashback meltdowns.

Moving at a leisurely pace, I entered the youth center, checked in, and settled onto the same sofa. The minutes ticked by at an agonizingly slow rate, and I had to resist the urge to constantly check my phone’s clock. As my allotted time disappeared, I texted Aaron that I’d give it ten more minutes. Otherwise, we’d have to try again tomorrow.

When the last ten minutes elapsed, I shoved the tarot cards in my backpack, boiling with frustration. What a jerkoff. Promising to be here all day, then vanishing. Or maybe Gregory was here and he was ignoring me.

I rose to my feet—and he emerged from a hallway, his smile lighting up when he saw me.

“Victoria! How are you today?”

“Fine,” I mumbled.

“I have some information for you. Would you like to discuss it here or in an office?”

“Uh. An office?” Doing my best to appear uncertain instead of victoriously gleeful, I followed him into a hall where an open door revealed a generic office—more like a mini meeting room—with walls covered in posters and the desk lined with colorful pamphlets in plastic holders. I perched rigidly on a chair as he shut the door and took a seat on the other side.

Folding his hands, he studied me somberly. “Do you know any other people who share your gift with tarot cards? Did your mother or grandmother ever introduce you to anyone else with unusual abilities?”

I shook my head.

“Did they ever talk about mythics or magic?”

Furrowing my brow, I shook my head again.

“You have a unique gift, Victoria. And you aren’t alone. There are many gifted people in this world, with widely varying abilities. Magic.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “It’s a word most people scoff at, but we both know there’s real magic in your cards.”

I tried to imagine how an average teen would react to that statement. I couldn’t base it on my own reaction to discovering magic, since “Can I see that fireball again?” probably wasn’t typical.

“You’re in a difficult position, but there are mythics—members of the magical community—who can help you find your place.” He hesitated. “I don’t want to alarm you, but with a gift as powerful as yours, I think we should move forward with caution.”

“Caution?” I repeated suspiciously.

“Predictive magic is a highly valued skillset. Some people could … take advantage of that.”

Some people like, say, the Ghost? Unsure how to respond, I clutched my backpack and waited. Gregory seemed to debate his next move. Was he having second thoughts about trading a teen for whatever reward the Ghost would give him?

“I know someone who’s uniquely set up to help young people like you who might otherwise be vulnerable in the wider community. He runs a safe house for mythics, and there you could learn more about your abilities.”

Nausea rolled through my middle. A safe house where a girl could meet her peers and learn what she was—it sounded so perfect. Had he given Nadine the same spiel? In her shoes, I would’ve jumped on the chance just like she must have.

“That sounds … really good,” I forced out.

He must’ve mistaken my disgust for nerves, because his encouraging smile returned. “It’s a safe place. It would be perfect for you.” He pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. “I’ve set up a meeting for you with the man who runs the safe house. Talk to him, and he’ll explain everything. I know it seems rather strange, but like many shelters, this safe house is a closely guarded secret.”

He slid the folded paper across the desk. I picked it up and opened it. An address was scrawled in a masculine script with a date and time underneath. Saturday at 10:00 P.M. Yes! This was it. We were going to catch that kid-stealing psycho—and then we were coming back for this talking blob of pond scum.

Since I was still playing the part of an angsty teen, I frowned at the paper instead of whooping in victory. “Ten o’clock? Isn’t that kind of late?”

“This guy does things a bit differently,” he reassured me. “He won’t harm you, I promise. Just talk to him and see what he has to say.”

Gulping back a sarcastic laugh at “he won’t harm you,” I stuffed the paper into my pocket. I wanted to ask more questions about who this mysterious benefactor was, just to see what Gregory might reveal, but I didn’t want to trigger his suspicions.

Instead, I stood. “Thanks. I’ll meet with him.”

“Wonderful,” Gregory replied with perfect sincerity. “Do you need anything in the meantime? A place to sleep?”

“No, I’m fine.” I stepped toward the door. “But I’ll let you know if that changes.”

“Okay. Be safe, Victoria. And don’t miss your meeting.”

“I won’t.” Oh no, I definitely wouldn’t.

The original plan had been for me to hang around the youth center for another thirty minutes after speaking with Gregory so as not to arouse suspicion, but there was no way I could sit still or act naturally. Better to leave early than stay and look more suspicious—plus, I had other plans I didn’t want to cancel.

Outside, I strode down the sidewalk. When I reached the two-block point, Aaron and Ezra swung out of an alley and fell into step on either side of me.

“I got it.” I grinned fiercely. “The Ghost is coming, and we’re going to teach that slimy bastard a lesson.”

Looping his arm around my waist, Aaron pulled me against his side in a brief, in-motion hug. “Knew you could do it!”

“Well done, Tori,” Ezra added with a warm smile that erased the icky mental residue of my talk with Gregory. “You’re amazing.”

Oh shit, was I blushing again? I bit the inside of my cheek until my eyes watered. The heat faded from my face. Much better.

“I just need to change,” I told them, checking the time again. “Then I’ve got to book it to my appointment.”

“You say that like you’re planning to run there or something,” Aaron observed casually.

“Um … yes?” Jog, not run, but close enough.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll drive you, dummy. Why would you need to walk? Or run. Or whatever.”

“I don’t want to trouble you,” I muttered.

“You really need to practice the whole asking for favors thing, Tori.”

“Or,” Ezra countered, “you can just boss him around. He likes that.”

Chewing my lip, I let the opportunity to join their banter pass. Asking for help. Not something I’d ever been good at, but I was improving—at least with the guys. Still, I evidently had a ways to go, since it hadn’t occurred to me to ask for a ride. “Aaron, could you drive me to my appointment?”

“Nope, sorry. I’m busy.”

“What? But you just—”

His eyes sparked with mirth. “I’m kidding. Of course I’ll drive you.”

Fighting a scowl, I grumbled, “Thanks.”

“No problem. Besides,” he added, “I’ve never seen a fae exorcism and I’m damn curious.”

Aaron parked in front of a squat bungalow with a towering spruce rising from the backyard. As we clambered out of the car, a woman sauntered through the gate and waved cheerfully.

“Hey, Kaveri,” Aaron greeted her. “How’s it going?”

“Excellent,” she said dreamily. Tall, willowy, wearing fitted yoga pants and a sports bra that displayed her flat stomach, she resembled a Pilates instructor. A duffle bag hung over her shoulder. “Lovely, calm vibrations here. I can see why it attracted a fae.”

She said that like it was a good thing, but I disagreed. “Will it, uh, continue to attract fae?”

She shrugged. “Fae are unpredictable. Shall we begin?”

“We’re early, so the landlord won’t be here to unlock the house for at least forty-five minutes.” Aaron’s ride over had saved me a long walk.

“It isn’t locked. I checked. This will be easier without a human present.” With a bounce in her step, she headed through the gate into the backyard. As I followed her, Aaron and Ezra trailing behind me, I blinked a few times in bewilderment. Without a human present? Uh, hello, this girl right here was human.

Except, maybe Kaveri didn’t see me as a regular human.

Totally missing my reaction, she continued thoughtfully, “We’ll start with a peaceful offering ritual and see how the faery responds.”

“I don’t think a peaceful approach will work with this thing,” I told her. “It isn’t what I’d call friendly.”

“It’s worth a try.”

“I thought you were doing an … exorcism?”

Kaveri threw a smile over her shoulder. “With fae, it’s always better to negotiate before trying ultimatums. A happy fae is a helpful fae.”

My forehead crinkled. “What is a fae?”

“Fae is the common name for the spiritual beings that share our world. Fair folk, elves, aes sídhe, devas, yokai, elementals—every mythology across the world has a different name for them. They’re bound to the natural world, with magic different from ours but originating from the same roots.”

Whoa, did she say elves? Were we talking Legolas or Dobby? ’Cause I definitely knew which I preferred.

“All you need to know about fae,” Aaron declared as we filed through the back door and down the stairs, “is don’t mess with them. Save that for people who know what they’re doing, like Kaveri.”

“I know more about fae than the average mythic,” Kaveri said, “but one can never know everything about the spirits. They’re mysterious, deceptive, and don’t share their secrets with anyone.”

Not super encouraging, but I’d join a witch coven right now if it meant I could meet a real-life Legolas. I followed her into the main room of the apartment, eyeing the crawlspace door warily.

“Hey, this is pretty nice,” Aaron observed, wandering into the kitchen and opening a cabinet. “Great find.”

“I guess I can thank the fae for scaring off the competition.”

“Ah,” Kaveri murmured. “Don’t thank fae. Some of them take that as an admission of debt, which they’ll insist on collecting.”

“Oh. Got it.” I pointed. “The faery came out of there last time.”

Moving to the center of the room, Kaveri sat crossed-legged and unzipped her duffel bag. Instead of running shoes and a yoga mat, the bag held a bizarre assortment of cloth pouches with drawstrings. The fresh scent of pine wafted out. She selected several bags and opened one. Humming, she poured a trickle of powder in a circle.

I watched, dumbfounded, as she filled the circle with twigs, herbs, a quartz crystal, and a shallow bowl into which she poured bottled water, laying each item precisely. As she worked, she hummed, and I realized she was softly singing in a strange, archaic language.

Aaron disappeared into the single bedroom, still exploring, so I backed up against the wall beside Ezra.

“What is she doing?” I whispered.

“A ritual,” he replied. “Witches perform different rituals to signal their intentions to nearby fae. Something about it channels or gathers natural energies? I don’t understand it, but I guess the fae can sense what she’s doing.”

“Not what I expected from a witch,” I muttered. “She didn’t even draw a pentagram.”

He snorted quietly. “That’s demon summoning, not witchcraft.”

“Oh, my mistake.” I gave him a playful jab with my elbow, then asked, “What happens when the faery shows his ugly face?”

“She’ll probably ask him what he wants in exchange for leaving this house.”

“That’s it? Damn. I thought she would magically banish him to the netherworld or something.”

“Witches are pacifists. They avoid violence with or against fae at all costs.” He cast me an amused look. “If you want to see a dramatic battle and banishment, you’ll need a druid instead.”

“A druid?”

“Another practitioner of Spiritalis magic. Druids are not pacifists.”

“And they’re crazy rare.” Aaron joined us, taking a spot against the wall on my other side. “I’ve never met one.”

Breaking off her low song, Kaveri said, “You’ve never seen one because they don’t live long. When you attract fae like a corpse attracts vultures, sooner or later you meet your end.”

“Witches don’t like druids,” Aaron informed me. “Not sure why. The last time I asked a witch, I got a long-winded analogy about promiscuity.”

Kaveri sniffed primly. “Witchcraft is rooted in ritual and tradition, but druids are chaos incarnate. They—

“Uh,” I interrupted, “sorry, but, is it okay to stop your ritual?”

“Hmm? Oh, I’m finished. Now we wait for the faery to answer my call.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“I’ll try a different ritual.”

“And … if it doesn’t answer that one?”

“Don’t worry.” She smiled serenely. “I’ll keep trying.”

I kept my expression pleasantly neutral but internally, I was rolling my eyes so hard they were metaphysically blistering. Sin and Aaron had led me to believe that a witch would storm into the apartment, hurling the fae equivalent of holy water, and the faery would explode in a screaming cloud of green sparkles. This was not what I’d expected.

“How long do we wait?” I asked dubiously.

“Oh, thirty minutes or so.”

I winced.

“Maybe we should’ve found a druid,” Aaron muttered, sounding equally disillusioned about what a fae exorcism entailed.

Kaveri gave another disdainful sniff. “I’ll solve your fae issue, I promise. Anything worthwhile is worth waiting for.”

Wise words, but I was more of a “just get it done already” kinda girl. I scooted around Kaveri’s nature circle and headed for the crawlspace. “Maybe the faery needs some encouragement?”

“No, let’s just wait—”

I yanked the short door open. “Oy, twig-face! Get out here!”

Icy wind blasted out of the threshold. I hopped aside as Kaveri’s circle blew apart.

A low wail filled the room, then the faery dragged itself out of the crawlspace. This time its cinematic inspiration was clearly from The Exorcist. The diseased woman, stringy hair draped across her pale eyes, crawled into the room amidst a pool of inky shadows. Aaron and Ezra snapped to attention, regarding the specter warily.

“Diiiiie, humans,” it moaned.

I toed the crawlspace door closed so it couldn’t dive back in. “Nice try, greenie.”

The ghoulish woman shot me a filthy look. “Diiiie …”

I glanced at Kaveri. Her warm brown skin had gone surprisingly pale. “See what I meant?”

“Uh.” She cleared her throat and reached into her duffel bag. “Noble fae, may I offer you—”

“DIIEEEE!!” the faery shrieked. “Leave this place or forfeit your LIIIIIIIVES!”

Aaron pushed away from the wall. “Are you sure that’s a fae?”

“It’s a fae,” Kaveri confirmed. She pulled three leaves from a pouch and fanned them out. “Fae, we have come in search of a peaceful accord. As a gesture of goodwill, I hereby gift you with—”

The ghoul swung its arm and a gust of icy wind blasted the leaves out of Kaveri’s grasp.

Her eyes blazed. Grabbing her bag, she whipped out another cloth pouch, yanked it open, and flung a handful of brown powder at the ghoul. It shrieked and doubled over into a coughing fit. Its hellish disguise melted away, and the short, green tree sprite took form, its huge eyes scrunched shut as it hacked.

“I came here peacefully!” Kaveri barked. “Please be civil. I won’t ask again.”

The faery squinched its eyes open, tears streaming down its cheeks as it gasped. “Filthy bald monkey wench—”

“Hey!” Aaron cut in. “Don’t talk to her like that!”

It turned glaring crystalline eyes on him. “The orange roach should mind its own business!”

“What?” he snarled. Fire sparked over his fingers and he stepped threateningly toward the faery. “You little—”

Ezra grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “Let Kaveri handle it, Aaron.”

The faery’s attention shifted to the aeromage. Gasping, it leaped backward and ducked behind my legs, putting me between it and Ezra. Brow furrowing, I peered over my shoulder at the creature. It squinted at Ezra like it was afraid to move but didn’t want to admit it.

“Uh.” I looked from Ezra’s confused expression back to the fae. “What?”

Aaron snickered. “Hey, Ezra, maybe you should tell it to leave.”

“Leave?” the faery yelped. It grabbed the backs of my legs, its pokey fingers digging in. “No! This is my house!”

Its voice cracked with fear on the last word, its huge eyes fixed on Ezra like he might attack at any moment. Aaron nudged him with an elbow, but Ezra shook his head. Even that small movement caused the faery to flinch.

I considered my options. Whatever it was about Ezra that frightened the faery, getting him to scare the creature out of the house seemed like the easiest option. But Ezra clearly didn’t want to do that. I could probably stand to take a few compassion lessons from him.

“Ezra,” I murmured, “would you mind, uh, stepping outside for a few minutes so we can talk to the fae?”

Aaron made a disappointed sound but Ezra nodded. When he shifted backward, the faery ducked fearfully, its twiggy head scratching my legs. Ezra strode up the stairs, his footsteps almost inaudible. A moment later, the door opened and closed with a clack.

The faery peeked out from behind me. “You made it leave?”

“He’s a he, not an it.”

Hopping away, the faery stared up at me like it was no longer sure what I was. Taking advantage of its decreased aggression, I crouched so we were at eye level.

“Look,” I said. “I want to rent this apartment. Can you go somewhere else?”

“This house is mine.” Instead of a possessive declaration, it muttered the words with a note of dejection.

“Why is it yours? Don’t faeries like you live in … uh … forests?”

“I did, but …” It grimaced. “I was banished.”

“Oh. That sucks.”

Kaveri crouched beside me and smiled gently at the faery. “Would you consider sharing this house with a human?”

“Sharing?” it asked suspiciously.

“Sharing?” I repeated incredulously.

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea, Kaveri,” Aaron said, hovering behind us. “Tori doesn’t need a faery for a roommate.”

The diminutive creature perked up, an eager light flashing in its eyes. “Roommate?”

I winced. We already knew the faery was a horror buff, but what if it liked sitcoms too? Hell no. I was not doing a real-life “unlikely roommates” sitcom with a faery.

Except while I internally freaked out at the thought, Kaveri plowed on. “In that case, I have a proposal. Though this is a human residence, I propose you and this human, Tori Dawson, share the house as roommates.”

“Hold on—” I began sharply.

“What about … that one?” The faery’s shrill voice cut through mine as it pointed at the stairs where Ezra had disappeared, unease tugging at its expressive features.

“Tori will protect you,” Kaveri promised. “In exchange, you will swear to cause her no harm and no mischief.”

At the word “protect,” the faery’s whole face lit up. “Agreed!”

“Wait—” I broke off as the faery bounced excitedly, then faded away—vanishing from sight. “Where’d it go?”

“Most fae are semi-corporeal,” Kaveri explained, serene as could be as she pulled her duffel bag closer. “They can hide from human senses.”

Rising, I folded my arms and glowered down at her. “Why did you sign me up to share my apartment with a faery?”

“It was here first, Tori,” she said matter-of-factly, zipping her bag closed. “And you heard it. It was banished and has nowhere else to go.”

Aaron gave her an exasperated scowl. “I’m sure it could have found somewhere else to live.”

“It’ll be fine.” Kaveri swung her bag over her shoulder. “The faery might be an inconvenience now and then, but that’s a small price to pay. You’re getting this place for cheap, aren’t you? It all works out.”

With a knowing smile, she headed for the stairs. Brimming with annoyance, I watched her leave. I’d been so misled about how cool witches were. Kaveri better not get a bounty for that half-assed attempt at evicting a faery.

“Well,” Aaron said, “you can always boot the little prick out later, but you should hurry up and sign the lease before someone rents this place out from under you.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, delight overcoming my irritation. With that last wrinkle smoothed out, I could rent this place. My own place! And all for the small price—hopefully small price—of an annoying horror-buff faery for a roommate.

CHAPTER SIX

Today was the day. No, not moving day. I wish. If it had been moving day, I would’ve been cheerfully excited, not vibrating with apprehension and wondering if my cramping stomach would eject my dinner.

Tomorrow was moving day. My brand-new lease was signed, the apartment keys were in my purse, and my meager belongings were packed. Yesterday, I’d gone mattress shopping and emptied my bank account to buy a new bed that would be delivered next week. If we didn’t capture the Ghost and collect his bounty, I’d be eating nothing but free guild food for the month.

Today—or, to be more specific, tonight—was the night I met with the Ghost.

Earlier, I’d eaten dinner at the guild and met our team: Zora, a badass sorceress with a penchant for massive weapons; Andrew, a mid-fifties defensive combat sorcerer who was always on everyone’s team because he was so dependable; and a pair of sorcerers I didn’t know, Zhi and Ming. The brother-sister team had requested to join the Ghost’s capture—some bad history there, apparently. According to Aaron, Zhi was the Crow and Hammer’s youngest full-fledged sorcerer at twenty-seven, and twenty-five-year-old Ming was almost finished her apprenticeship.

Completing our team were two psychics. Taye had the gift of telethesia, which allowed him to track people supernaturally; once he caught the Ghost’s trail, the slippery worm wouldn’t be able to escape. And lastly, Bryce, a telepath. Yes, the mind-reading type, and I wasn’t sure how excited I was to work with him.

Ten people, including me. It was a big team for a single target, but Kai—our team leader—wasn’t taking any chances. We didn’t know what the Ghost could do, so we were preparing for anything.

My stomach performed another uncomfortable flip and I pressed a hand to my middle.

“Doing okay, Tori?”

I gave Aaron a wan smile. “Yeah. Totally fine.”

He grinned. “That’s the spirit. We’ll get that bastard.”

And we would bring Nadine home. She was what mattered. She’d already been in the Ghost’s clutches for two months, and I didn’t want her to be his prisoner for a day longer than necessary.

A mean voice in the back of my mind added, “Assuming she’s still alive.”

I slammed the mental door shut on that voice. Not an option I was considering.

Aaron and I sat side by side on a park bench, tree branches tangled overhead. We’d split from the team on the off-chance the Ghost scoped me out before the meeting, though I found that unlikely. The rest of the team would move into position at nine thirty, and I would head to the meeting place shortly after. Aaron was sticking with me until then.

Unlike the others, he didn’t look prepared for battle, but he’d have a few minutes to grab his weapons before the show began. I wondered if he’d arm himself with his big-ass sword Sharpie.

“Do you want to go over the plan again?” he asked.

“Everyone gets into position while I head to the meeting spot. I’ll pass Bryce on the way so he can get a lock on my mind.” The words sounded stupid, like a bad movie quote, but that’s how Kai had described it. “If the Ghost is already waiting, then I get out of the way so you guys can pounce. If he hasn’t shown himself, then I wait. Once he shows up, I’ll distract him with conversation while the team moves in.”

Aaron nodded along. “And when Bryce gives you the command, you run like hell right out of there.”

“Yep.”

“See? It’ll be easy.”

“Riiiight.” I pulled my feet up onto the bench and wrapped my arms around my legs, contemplating the park and the glowing lights of the surrounding skyscrapers that marked the downtown core. The Crow and Hammer was less than ten blocks away; the Ghost was operating right under the guild’s nose. Pedestrians meandered past us, cutting across the park on their way to wherever they were going.

Aaron rested an arm on the bench behind me. “Try not to worry, Tori. One guy, no matter how tough, can’t win against me, Kai, and Ezra. We train together all the time and fight as a team.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

His amusement faded. “You’re not worrying about yourself, are you? You’re worried about us.”

“Of course. I won’t be fighting this guy.”

He brushed his warm hand over my shoulder. “We’ll be fine, Tori.”

I nodded, but I couldn’t forget the memory of him blindfolded and tied to a chair as the leader of a rival guild leveled a gun at his head. He wasn’t invincible. He, Kai, and Ezra might have scary-powerful magic, but they were only mortal. They could be hurt. They could be killed.

And the Ghost had the power—and the disposition—to kill them.

I slipped a hand into the pocket of my thrift-store jeans and touched my Queen of Spades card. Probably not useful, but it was the only thing I was bringing with me on the mission. At least I had one tool.

As a cool breeze washed over us, Aaron stared up at the dark sky. “Are you excited about your new place?”

My mood improved at the mention of my apartment. “Ecstatic. Even with the unexpected roommate.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that didn’t work out as planned. How did your brother take the news that you’re moving out?”

“I’m not sure. Ever since I started apartment hunting, Justin has been kind of … pouty. He keeps telling me not to rush things. I don’t get it. I thought he’d be delighted to be rid of me.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Your brother doesn’t want you to leave because he enjoys your company or because putting you up appeases his guilt about leaving you behind last time. Or both.”

I rested my chin on my knees. “Gonna have to go with option B, then. No one enjoys my company that much.”

“I do.”

My heart somersaulted behind my ribs. “Only because you don’t have to live with me.”

“If we had an extra room, I’d have already invited you to move in with us.” He cast me another charming half smile. “I expect you would’ve turned me down, though. I know this is important to you—having a place all your own.”

Aaron was the only person I’d opened up to about the circumstances of my arrival in the city almost a year ago. I’d told him how Justin had rescued me from our father, patched up my broken soul over the course of three years, then shattered it all over again when he moved away, leaving me behind a second time. Aaron knew my biggest goal was independence—being in charge of my life and my future—and getting my own place was a big part of that. I didn’t want anyone to have the power to take my home away from me.

Was that something Nadine valued as well? Had she fled her parents’ home in search of a future she could control—only to end up under the thumb of someone far worse?

“When’s the housewarming party?” Aaron asked. “I didn’t have one for my house.”

“Your house? Don’t you rent it with Kai and Ezra?”

“Nope. They’re renting rooms from me. I own the place.”

“Wow, you own it?” I couldn’t help my shock. Real estate prices around here would have been fair value only if the houses were constructed from solid gold.

“I had to dip into my trust fund, but it was worth it.”

Right. His parents were loaded. Scrunching my nose, I asked, “Is there anything left in your trust fund?”

“Umm, yeah, the house purchase didn’t really make a dent, to be honest.”

“Why do you go after dangerous bounties if you’re already set for life?”

He canted his head. “Why are you moving out when you could live with your brother for cheap? I haven’t touched my trust fund since buying the house. It might be my money in name, but it’s my parents’ money. I want to make my own way.”

That I could understand. “I get it.”

“Figured you would.” His grin sent a swoop through my center. Damn it. I needed to get a grip.

Or did I? Leaning away from him, I scanned the pyromage from head to toe, trying to see him as a stranger would. Tall, ruggedly built, hard muscle visible in his arms and hinted at in his chest beneath his black t-shirt. Tousled copper-red hair and a reddish shadow along his strong jaw.

Yeah, he was hot. Mm-hmm.

Aaron watched me check him out with obvious curiosity and a hint of uncertainty. My stomach flittered with butterflies as I let my gaze rise to his.

For all that he was impulsive and mischievous and reckless, Aaron was remarkably perceptive—and patient. He never complained about me flipflopping between steamy interest and apathy over any form of dating. Honestly, I didn’t know what was holding me back, why I hadn’t straight-up thrown myself at him, but either way, I couldn’t deny he was the hottest man I’d ever kissed.

Involuntarily, my eyes dropped to his mouth—and his focus immediately sharpened. See what I meant about perceptive?

“Tori?” he murmured, probably trying to get an idea of what was going on in my head. Problem was, I didn’t know what was going on in my head either. Luckily, I had an easy solution for these sorts of dilemmas: stop thinking and just act.

So I kissed him.

He stiffened in surprise, but he got over it in half a second. His lips pressed against mine, and I leaned into his side, needing to be closer. As his hand slid into my curls, his mouth moved across mine, hot and hungry, and I lost the ability to think at all.

Fingers locked in my hair, he slid his other hand around my waist and tugged. The next thing I knew, I was straddling his lap, the hard bench under my knees. My arms wound around his neck. His touch slid under the back of my shirt, caressing my skin, and his mouth caught mine again. My lips parted, and our kiss deepened.

Then his thigh vibrated under my leg and I almost sprang into the air. “Tell me that was your phone and not an undisclosed magical ability.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I can’t vibrate.” His smile was a lascivious promise. “But I know a few other tricks you might like.”

His hand, still pressed to my back, heated several degrees. He slid his hot fingertips up my spine and I gasped, shuddering head to toe at the delicious sensation.

“Oh,” I breathed. “That’s … mmm. I like that.”

He pulled my head down and kissed me again. My head spun and I had to tear my mouth away. “What’s the message on your phone?”

“Probably the signal to move out. You should’ve jumped me sooner.” With a final hot caress, he slipped his hand out of my shirt and checked his phone. “The team is in position. Are you ready?”

That was all it took to douse my libido in a wave of cold apprehension. I clambered off his lap. “Let’s get this bastard.”

“You bet we will. Go slow, be careful, and don’t take any risks. If your gut tells you to get out, do it. Your safety is most important.”

I nodded and touched the Queen of Spades card in my pocket. “I’m ready.”

“Go for it. I’ll be nearby the whole time.”

Our eyes met, a hot zing running through me, then I strode away from him. Following the path out of the park, I turned north. This was it. We would save Nadine. I would save Nadine. I was making this happen.

The streets were dark and foot traffic diminished as the clock ticked closer to ten. I moved fast, my head on a swivel as I checked the shadows. No sign of my teammates, but I didn’t expect to see them. Only after the Ghost showed up would they close in.

Reaching an intersection, I jogged diagonally across and hurried down a sidewalk that ran parallel to a white wall topped with Asian-style tilework. Walking toward me was a familiar man—dark hair, a short beard threaded with silver though he didn’t look older than thirty-five, and hands tucked in his pockets. We passed each other without acknowledgment.

Tori?

The vaguely familiar voice whispered in my mind and I almost tripped and fell on my face. Catching my balance, I kept walking as I formed a clear thought in my mind. Bryce?

Right, we’re locked. Everyone is in position. You’re good to go.

I shivered at hearing another person’s voice in my head. It was freakin’ weird. We’d done a test run at the guild, so I knew how it worked. Sort of. While “listening” to my mind, Bryce would hear any loud, clear thoughts. That meant if I wanted to keep secrets, I needed to not think about them—like how I’d been making out with Aaron barely five minutes ago and how embarrassing it would be if Bryce found out.

Ever notice how as soon as you try not to think about something, you immediately think about it more?

Focus, Tori.

Goddamn it.

Ignoring the laughing note in his telepathic voice, I glanced up and down the street. Seeing no witnesses, I cut onto the grass and approached an electrical box beside the white wall. Brushing my hands together in preparation, I grabbed the metal and heaved myself onto the box. From there, I reached for the tiled top of the wall and climbed onto it. Lying on my stomach, I peered over the edge.

Enclosed within was a beautiful Chinese garden with a large pond bordered by willow trees, their leafy branches trailing in the water. A gazebo built in traditional Asian architecture sat on the pond’s edge, opposite my location.

In the daylight, the garden was lush with greenery, but at night, the shadows clung to everything. I’d visited this place while checking out the city’s best tourist destinations. The private park was closed at night, inaccessible unless you climbed the wall like I had.

I can’t see anyone, I thought loudly. I’m going in.

Roger that. Zora and Taye have eyes on you.

Resisting the urge to scan the rooftops for the watching mythics, I slid off the wall and landed on the grass with a thump. My heart rate kicked up as I ventured cautiously between two trees. Crossing the manicured grass, I stopped at the pond’s edge and inspected my surroundings. No movement. No sign of life. Would the Ghost come?

Part of me was terrified he would. An equal part of me was terrified he wouldn’t. I couldn’t fail Nadine.

I followed the pond to a footpath, and my feet crunched on the fine gravel, the sound echoing in the darkness. The park was open while still providing privacy, but even then, it struck me as a strange place to send teens to be abducted. I would’ve expected a dark alley where he could throw his victims into a car trunk—or into one of those child-napper vans with no windows. Yeah, one of those. I could totally picture it.

Before I got too distracted by that tangent, I focused. Any sign of him, Bryce?

Not yet. A pause as though he were checking with someone else. Keep moving but take it slow.

I almost nodded then realized that would look weird. Keeping my pace as leisurely as I could manage, I continued along the path. Out in the open, the downtown lights reflected off the pond and illuminated the park, but back in the trees, the darkness was absolute. Anyone could be hiding in there.

The path led to a wooden bridge that crossed the narrowest part of the pond. On the other side, the small gazebo with white posts and a sharp-peaked tile roof stood like a lonely sentinel at the water’s edge.

The wood thumped hollowly under my shoes and I glanced at the still water. Creepy, creepy, creeeepy. Despite the warm evening, gooseflesh covered my bare arms and I wished I’d worn a jacket. I stepped onto the gravel path, the dark gazebo just ahead.

Tori. Bryce’s voice cracked in my head. Where are you?

Adrenaline shot through me. Right here. I just crossed the footbridge.

Zora can’t see you. Taye—a pause—Taye’s lost you too.

Taye had lost me? How could he lose me? Tracking people was his psychic ability. If they could see me on the path before, they should be able to see me now. I was still in the open.

Something is wrong, Bryce barked. Don’t move. Just wait.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Elegant trees and carefully shaped shrubbery surrounded the gazebo, obscuring my view. I squinted into the structure. A shadow, darker than the others, lurked beneath the peaked roof.

Tori? Bryce asked. I can sense your fear. What is it?

The answer to his question bloomed in my mind, so overpowering I almost whispered the words out loud.

He’s here.

CHAPTER SEVEN

My racing pulse thudded in my ears, then Bryce’s terse whisper. What?

He’s in the gazebo. He’s waiting for me.

I could see his silhouette—darkness, too solid to be a shadow, in the rough shape of a man. Now that I’d spotted him, prickles ran over my skin, my instincts belatedly informing me I was being watched.

Bryce’s voice filled my head. We still can’t see you. Go back to the bridge.

The Ghost had spotted me. I’d spotted him. If I retreated, he would know something was off. I’d already been standing here for too long. I squared my shoulders and took a step—moving closer to the gazebo.

I’m approaching him. Tell everyone to get ready.

Trepidation buzzed through me—Bryce’s emotions leaking through the link between our minds. Standing by.

Now for the tricky part. I would approach the Ghost, engage him in conversation, and keep him focused on me while the team closed off any escape routes. Then I would put as much distance between me and the Ghost as I could, right before Aaron, Kai, and Ezra attacked. From this point onward, I didn’t need to consciously update Bryce. Speaking and thinking were simultaneous processes, so if I stayed focused, he’d “hear” our conversation.

I minced toward the gazebo, my stare fixed on the dark shadow that was the Ghost. He leaned against the white railing, arms folded, clad all in black with a long villainous coat, its hood pulled up. He even wore black gloves, every inch of his skin hidden.

Stepping onto the wooden floor, I searched the shadows beneath his hood. I should have been able to make out something of his face—the gleam of his eyes, the shape of his chin—but I saw nothing, the darkness impenetrable.

I stopped with the full length of the gazebo between us, but four paces weren’t anywhere near enough to protect me. Gregory’s promise that this man wouldn’t harm me were so many meaningless words—not that I’d believed them in the first place.

“Victoria Dawson.”

A shudder ran over me. That voice. Deep. Raspy and rumbly at the same time. Quiet and dangerous.

And … not as old as I’d expected. How young, I didn’t know, but he wasn’t a croaky senior.

“That’s—” The word came out in a squeak. I wet my lips and tried again. “That’s me. Who are you? Mr. Stern didn’t … he didn’t say … exactly.”

I couldn’t form a coherent sentence, but that probably wasn’t a bad thing. Victoria the orphaned diviner would’ve been just as terrified as Tori the guild bartender.

“Why are you here?”

The question cut through me, the words delivered with quiet, cutting precision.

“I … huh?”

“What do you want?”

Shit. He was testing me. I thought he’d persuade me to come quietly with a “special safe house” story like Gregory’s, but it looked like I needed to convince him—and if I gave the wrong answer, our interview would be over. That would be bad news for Nadine and for me.

Had he asked her the same question? How would she have answered? If sixteen-year-old me had found herself here, what would she have said?

“I want to start again,” I whispered hoarsely. “I want to leave everything else behind and start a new life.”

The team is over the wall. Keep him distracted, Tori.

I tried in vain to find the Ghost’s eyes through the unnatural darkness beneath his hood. “Did Mr. Stern tell you about my tarot cards? My mom and grandma taught me, but they’re—they’re dead. He said you’d be familiar with my … abilities.”

The Ghost pushed off the railing and straightened to his full height—a couple inches taller than I’d realized. Enough to tower over me even several paces away.

“I would be,” he rumbled, “if you had those abilities.”

My racing heart screeched to a halt. “W-what?”

“You fooled him. You can’t fool me.”

Oh shit.

Tori! Bryce’s voice made me start. Where are you?

In the gazebo!

Kai can see into the gazebo. He says it’s empty!

I’m right here! I shouted in my head, inching backward. Out loud, I mumbled, “What are you saying?”

“Victoria Dawson, you are no diviner.” He regarded me from under his dark hood. The night was too still and silent, like only he and I existed inside the gazebo and everything beyond it was no more than a dream—or a nightmare.

Abort mission.

I sucked in a breath.

Abort mission! Bryce’s command thundered through me. Disengage now, Tori.

What? Quit when I had the elusive rogue right in front of me? What about Nadine?

“Why are you here?” the Ghost asked again, his deep voice quieter, the words more ominous. Threat whispered in the unmoving air, the promise of punishment. I had deceived him. I was his enemy.

Abort, Tori!

If I tried to leave, the Ghost would kill me. I could feel it.

“I—I—” Gulping, I changed tactics. “You’re right. I’m not a diviner. I’m … not a mythic at all.”

The slightest twitch of his hood. He hadn’t expected that. “Then why are you here?”

Help, I thought as loud as I could. I can’t leave or he’ll attack.

Okay, stay calm. The team is moving in. Be ready to run.

But the Ghost was waiting for my answer, and he wouldn’t wait much longer. However close the team was, they weren’t close enough.

I closed my eyes, terror singing in my veins. I’d fooled Gregory Stern, but I couldn’t deceive this mythic. He could see right through me; I could feel his hidden eyes on my soul. What lie could I speak that would convince him I was like Nadine? How did I convince him I was a desperate, hopeless, lost girl who needed to erase her past and start again?

My eyes snapped open. I wasn’t lost and hopeless—but I had been. I’d lived that way for years. And at the youth shelter, I’d relived it. I’d been melting down when Gregory first spoke to me. Was that how I’d convinced him I was a legit runaway?

How easy it was. Like flipping a switch in my head, the rage swept through me—fury forged from years of enduring my father’s drunken neglect, from every adult in my life ignoring my pleas for help, from the maddening helplessness. My hands clenched. My lips pulled back from my teeth. The broken teenager within me reared her head.

“I’m here because anything is better than what I have now,” I spat. “I don’t know who you are, but I don’t care.”

Silence rang in the still night. Bryce was speaking in my mind but I blocked him out, concentrating on the Ghost.

“Take me away.” I glared into his hood. “That’s why you’re here, right? Take me somewhere else. I don’t care where.”

The Ghost studied me, his cold consideration a tangible weight on my skin. He was deciding what to do with me—and my time was up.

Tori! Bryce’s mental voice cut into my focus. The team can’t reach you!

That got my attention. What?

It’s a trap! You’re inside a barrier and we can’t get to you!

The Ghost finally moved, stepping toward me. One gloved hand rose, turning upward, fingers spread in invitation. “You have a choice. Walk away. Or come with me.”

He was giving me the option to walk away? Or would he kill me if I tried?

Tori. Bryce’s voice jabbed me. The sorcerers can’t break his barrier spell. You need to get yourself out.

“If you come with me,” the Ghost warned, “there is no going back. You will never return.”

I stared at his gloved hand, outstretched and waiting. Nadine had probably stood in this exact spot two months ago, facing that same hand. Facing the same cloaked figure offering her an escape from the only life she knew. You will never return.

Nadine had taken his offer. Whatever she had been fleeing, she’d been so desperate to escape it that the promise of no return hadn’t stopped her.

My thoughts were too loud and obvious, and Bryce’s panic spiraled through mine. No! he yelled. That’s suicide, Tori!

If I walked away, we would never find Nadine. She would be lost to the Ghost, forgotten and abandoned. She’d wanted a fresh start, and this dark monster had preyed on her desperation. He’d taken her freedom. He’d taken her life.

I couldn’t abandon her. I wasn’t a mythic, but I wasn’t a scared teenager either. I knew how to handle myself, and I could be damn resourceful when the situation called for it. Wherever the Ghost took me, I would get her out—or get my mages in to rescue us.

“Choose,” he commanded.

No one else would save her. It had to be me.

I raised my hand, my fingers hovering above his black leather glove.

No! Bryce shouted in my head. Don’t!

Swallowing my pounding heart, I lowered my hand onto the cool leather. The Ghost’s fingers curled around mine.

You don’t understand! Bryce bellowed frantically. We figured it out! He isn’t a sorcerer. He’s—

The Ghost’s grip tightened and cold, alien power raced up my arm, leaving numbness in its wake.

—a druid.

My vision went dark and I pitched forward into the Ghost’s waiting embrace.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Hello?”

I scrunched my eyes as the word reverberated in my ears.

“Hellooooo?” the dry, sarcastic voice repeated. A finger poked my forehead. “Wakey-wakey, ginger.”

With effort, I forced my eyes open. Dazzling sunlight blinded me, then a head appeared above mine, blocking the glare. Thin eyebrows arched above blue-gray eyes in a young face, and messy brunette bangs were tangled over her forehead in a boyish style.

“Nadine?” I blurted. Or, I tried to. My throat was so dry that all I managed was a strangled gasp.

“Hey, don’t freak.” Nadine straightened, her hands on her narrow hips. “Victoria, right?”

I blinked repeatedly, my brain struggling to catch up. I was horizontal, a pillow under my head. Above me was … the top half of a bunk bed? And beside the bed was the missing girl I’d been desperate to find.

Nadine was standing right here, waiting for me to speak.

Well, shit. I’d been abducted. It was the only explanation.

Nadine snapped her fingers in my face and I started. Wide-eyed, I gawked at her. She looked … fine. No bruises, burns, or cuts. Clean, hair washed, a healthy pink tint to her cheeks.

“Your name is Victoria?” Nadine asked again.

I swallowed to get some moisture back in my mouth. “Call me Tori.”

“I’m Nadine.” She gave me a slow appraisal that wasn’t particularly friendly. Caution lurked in her eyes. “Ready to begin?”

“Begin … what?”

“If you’re here, you’re here to work. No slackers allowed.” Gesturing for me to get up, she backed away from the bunk. “You didn’t think you were getting a free ride, did you?”

I slid out of the bed, my thrift-store clothes rumpled, and surreptitiously slipped my hand into my back pocket. My fingers brushed the Queen of Spades’ edge.

“Where is here?” I asked.

She eyed me like I was a dangerous animal. “You chose this.”

It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “Yeah.”

“Then don’t complain. No one likes complainers.” She tugged her blue t-shirt down even though it was three sizes too big and hung past her hips. “Another piece of advice. Everyone here has a story, and it’s none of your business.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Before I said anything—before I revealed I was here to help her—I needed information. Starting with where I was, who “everyone” was, and if the Ghost was nearby.

“Come on.” She waved at me. “You already missed breakfast.”

Stumbling after her on wobbly legs, I scanned the room—small, with two tidy bunk beds, the patched blankets spread smooth. A simple dresser with four drawers stood in the corner. That was it, but hey, at least it wasn’t a dungeon.

Nadine pointed at the dresser on her way by. “Third drawer is yours. You can pick out clothes from the bin.”

I followed her into a hallway with wooden walls. The air smelled like a spice cabinet—herbs and seasonings and dried green things.

We walked into a huge kitchen. Butcher-block counters, an old gas range, a significantly newer industrial-sized fridge, and a giant island that stretched the length of the room. Sturdy shelves lined the far wall, and stacked on them were bottles, vials, and glass jars filled with all manner of substances.

At the island, two people stood over baskets filled with freshly cut plants. The guy had a dusky complexion, short black hair, and a cropped beard, young but way closer to thirty than twenty. The girl was my age, her hair done in braids and a smattering of freckles over her cheeks, almost invisible against her deep bronze skin.

Nadine tipped her head toward them. “That’s Omar and Nekhii.”

The pair glanced up from their work, their unsmiling faces giving me pause. Omar’s eyebrows furrowed, while Nekhii stared vacantly. I offered a half-hearted wave as I followed Nadine out the door into the sunshine.

I squinted my eyes into focus—then stopped dead.

“Problem?” Nadine sounded almost smug.

Gulping, I muttered, “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

Mountains are beautiful. I love mountains. Never in my life had the sight of mountains sent arctic fear trembling through me.

I was standing in a valley surrounded by magnificent peaks. Forests climbed the slopes, while lush grassland dotted with trees filled the valley basin, bisected by a winding river. As I turned in a slow, horrified circle, I saw nothing but meadow and mountain. The wooden cabin I’d walked out of was the only domicile.

There was a barn, a shed, and a few other outbuildings. A massive garden. A fenced-in pasture. No garage. No vehicles. There wasn’t even a road. Why the hell was there no road?

“So this is the new addition?”

The sharp voice cut through my daze, and I finally noticed the people scattered around the property—two guys walking out of the barn, a woman kneeling in the garden, more distant figures in the pasture where horses, goats, sheep, and a handful of cows grazed.

A woman stopped in front of me, an herb basket under one arm. Mid-thirties, blond hair in a short faux-hawk, and the tanned skin and lean body of someone who spent all day working outside. Her stern scrutiny swept over me from head to toe.

“Scrawny,” she commented. “Expect to put on muscle, Victoria. Lifting hay bales for a few weeks will tone you right up.”

“Uh.” I didn’t know what to say. Not a word popped into my head. Normally, speechlessness was a non-issue for me, but right now? I was speechless.

“She goes by Tori,” Nadine informed the woman. “Tori, this is Morgan. She’s in charge whenever he’s not here, so do what she says or she’ll kick your ass.”

As a connoisseur of smartassery, I almost smiled—except Nadine wasn’t smiling. Neither was Morgan. They were dead serious.

I coughed awkwardly. “Who is ‘he’?”

Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “He is the one who brought you here. If you want to stay, then you’ll do your share of the work. Don’t, and you’ll answer to him.”

There was that word again. Work. What was this place? A hand-picked slave camp?

Drawing myself up, I met Morgan’s flinty stare with my own. “Look, I don’t know how the rest of you got here, but I don’t have a freaking clue where I am, what this place is, or who he is aside from a creepy dude in black. So how about you give me an actual explanation instead of all this vague hostility?”

Morgan handed her basket to Nadine, then got in my face. “If you want answers, you’ll have to earn them. Maybe you didn’t hear Nadine, but I’m in charge here and you will speak to me with respect.”

“If you want respect,” I shot back, holding my ground, “you’ll have to earn it.”

She grabbed my wrist, yanking me forward as she twisted my arm—a basic throw-down martial arts maneuver. My old taekwondo training kicked in and I broke her hold, my fist snapping out for a strike to her sternum.

She caught my wrist again, and this time I didn’t have a chance to defend before she flipped me over her shoulder. I slammed into the ground, wheezing.

The air shimmered, then a shape manifested above me—bared fangs in a feline snout. A huge white cat crouched over me, snarling in my face. I choked on a gasp, paralyzed.

Morgan stepped closer, leaning over me and the giant cat. “Tori, meet Niari, my familiar. She doesn’t like it when people try to hit me.”

The cat’s curved canines snapped inches from my nose. Morgan clucked her tongue and the cat raised its head. With sleek nonchalance, the feline beast hopped off me and sat beside its master. Its yellow eyes, devoid of pupils, glittered like crystals.

I slowly sat up, my attention fixed on the cat as my monkey brain screamed at me to run. The creature looked like a white panther, and I might’ve believed it was an exotic albino if not for the unnatural eyes and its two tails, the tips glowing faintly with magic. Was it a fae?

“Are you a druid?” I asked warily.

“I’m a witch,” Morgan corrected. “However, your new master is a druid, so expect to encounter a lot of fae around here. And fair warning, girl. You’d better respect them, or you won’t live to learn from your mistakes.”

Revulsion rose through me and I had to fight to keep it off my face. Your new master.

Screw. That. Bullshit.

No one was my master, not even a dark arts druid who’d outsmarted Kai and evaded the Crow and Hammer’s best mythics. My mind spun as I tried to recall everything Kaveri, Ezra, and Aaron had mentioned about druids. Not much except witches didn’t like them, and Morgan appeared to be an exception to that rule.

As for the Ghost, all I knew about him was that he was a teen-abducting rogue whose victims were never seen again. Well, I was about to ruin his perfect track record.

I rose to my feet and dusted myself off, ready for round two. “So?”

Morgan’s lip curled. “Nadine will show you around so you know where everything is. After lunch, you can start in the barn. You may find the experience enlightening.” With a final sneer, she strode away, the fae panther following in a smooth prowl.

As instructed, Nadine gave me a tour. And if I’d been afraid before, now I was afraid and completely flummoxed.

There were no dungeons. No torture devices. No death pits filled with the corpses of the Ghost’s victims. No moaning slaves chained to walls with their eyes cut out of their heads. Okay, so maybe my imagination had run away with me, but nothing about this place suggested it belonged to a notorious dark arts rogue.

Well, almost nothing.

Strange black shapes lurked in the trees, their eyes catching the light whenever they strayed too close to the sunny meadow. A pair of enormous, shaggy wolves lounged in the pasture, keeping watch over the livestock with crystal-bright red eyes. The shelving in the kitchen was stacked with potions, powders, and eerily glowing poisons.

There was also the “alchemy garden,” which I was forbidden to enter—though Nadine told me I could go ahead and disobey that order if I wanted to die a horrific death. Some plants were lethal to the touch.

My tour guide barely acknowledged that stuff, though. Nadine showed me the vegetable garden, the apple orchard, and the berry bushes near the trees’ edge. I got a rundown of the farm—a stable for livestock, pens with fat pigs laying in the mud, and a chicken coop coated in feathers. Inside the house, she showed me the bathroom, the kitchen, the dining hall, and a small lounge room with a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. The basement held another few rooms with bunk beds and two more bathrooms.

She also pointed out the stairs to the second level, with a closed door at the top, and told me to stay away. The second level was his private floor and if I went up there, I’d return to the main level as a corpse.

I listened silently to her descriptions. At first, I’d tried to engage her in conversation—tried to feel out her real thoughts about this place. Until I knew she wouldn’t immediately run to the Ghost and tattle on me, I couldn’t reveal my status as her possible rescuer. But with every question I’d asked, Nadine had grown more hostile until I gave up.

The other workers on the Ghost’s weird farm were equally standoffish. I met a few teenage boys around Nadine’s age, a few young adults like me, and Terrance, an older man with dark skin, gold-framed glasses, and a quiet frown. He was third-in-command after Morgan and the Ghost. Last but not least, we passed a thin girl with curly black hair no older than twelve. The Ghost had zero compunctions about stealing little kids, either. The child’s thousand-yard stare had chilled me to the bone.

All in all, there were ten abductees like me, two older adults who kept them in line, and the mysterious “master” of the house.

Lunch was a somber affair. A giant salad, hardboiled eggs, and soft buns served with homemade butter were laid out on a long wooden dining table. I filled my plate and sat on a bench, eleven mythics surrounding the table as they ate silently. I saw no sign of the Ghost.

I wanted to hate my meal. I wanted to rant about slave food and abuse and starving defenseless prisoners. But … damn it, it was way too good. The salad could only be fresh-picked vegetables from the garden, eggs from the hens in the coops, the buns and butter made from scratch in this very kitchen. I scarfed down my plate, waited until most everyone was done eating, then loaded my plate again.

No one said anything about my second helping. In fact, no one said anything at all, and feeling suspicious eyes all over me, I figured my presence was the cause of the silence. They didn’t want to talk in front of me. They were afraid to talk. I could taste the fear and hostility in the air.

What exactly did they fear? That I would attack them? Or that I would get them in trouble with the Ghost? Had he forbidden them from speaking with me? Whatever it was, I could see that, even absent, the Ghost ruled them with an iron fist forged by terror.

After lunch, I got my first taste of indentured servitude. And it tasted like shit. Literally.

Every animal on the farm pooped. Copiously. And my first job was cleaning it up. Cow crap. Horse crap. Goat and sheep crap. Pig, chicken, and for some dumbass reason, rabbit crap. Why rabbits? Did the Ghost sacrifice their fluffy adorableness in his dark arts rituals?

I snarled as I shoveled reeking manure out of the barn. This was stupid. Sooooo stupid. I was an abducted prisoner! Where was my damp underground cell? Why couldn’t I mope in chains instead of wading through shit in a barn?

Back aching and hands blistering, I paused in the shadowy doorway of the barn to catch my breath. The low sun blazed over the western peaks, and I squinted longingly at it. This valley could be anywhere from an hour outside the city to hundreds of miles, and all I knew for sure was that the ocean lay to the west. Home was that way.

Home. To my surprise, the word didn’t summon thoughts of Justin’s apartment or my new basement unit. It called up an image of the dimly lit Crow and Hammer pub. My bar, lined with stools, the liquor bottles arranged just the way I liked them.

A shudder ran through me but I clamped down on my simmering fear. I couldn’t break down, no matter how hopeless it seemed.

I’d thought the Ghost’s home base would be in the city—somewhere I’d stand a chance of escaping. But the middle of nowhere? A small ranch in a remote valley without a road? The farm was mostly self-sufficient, from the huge gardens to the solar panels on the cabin roof. But it wasn’t large enough to grow feed for all the livestock. Someone had delivered the hay bales.

I’d find a way to escape that didn’t involve trekking through the mountain wilderness. Shoveling shit was better than being eaten by a bear … though not by much.

My eyes darted to the pasture where I’d seen the pair of fae wolves, but they were gone. As the shadows stretched across the lush grass, I wiped sweat from my forehead. I’d figure this out. I’d make it back.

“Slacking already?”

I jumped, my shovel tumbling out of my hands and clattering on the floor. Nadine had appeared around the barn’s corner, an empty bucket in one hand.

“It’s almost dinnertime,” she told me flatly. “Put your stuff away and head back to the house.”

She disappeared into the shadowy barn. I returned the shovel to its place and waited on the sunny path, watching the others make their way to the house.

A minute later, Nadine came out and paused. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you?”

“Why?

“Why not?”

Her eyes narrowed. “We aren’t friends.”

Wow, harsh. “Am I that unpleasant?”

“You’re new,” she said accusingly.

“So? I’m here, same as you.”

She folded her arms and gave me that same assessing look—the cold, unfriendly one. “When he asked why you came to him, what did you say?”

“I said … I wanted a new life.”

“And then he gave you a choice.”

I nodded, surprised the Ghost followed the same script for every abduction. “Did you know this is what you were signing up for?”

“You asked for a new life, just like everyone else, and you got one. If you don’t like it, you won’t be around for long.”

Despite the sunlight, a chill whispered through me. I wasn’t sure how to interpret her tone, but the words rang with warning. Maybe I should feign more enthusiasm for shit shoveling.

Chin high, she marched past me. Trailing after her, I chewed on my lower lip. The Ghost went after vulnerable young mythics with nowhere to go, and he brought them here to … work hard labor on his farm? Why did a dark arts druid even need a farm? Surely there were easier ways to feed himself.

What especially bothered me was why the Ghost would need to continue kidnapping people. The house was almost fully stocked with workers. If they were prisoners who couldn’t leave, the Ghost should be set. What happened to the workers that he’d need to keep replacing them?

Nervous questions were still spinning through my mind when Nadine stopped. I slowed, scanning the path ahead. The last few stragglers heading to the house had also paused, and everyone was gazing across the valley toward the shadowy eastern slope.

“What is it?” I asked.

Nadine pointed. “He’s back.”

My skin prickled, and I looked again.

He came out of the shadows that stretched from the forest—a dark figure in the same long coat he’d worn for my abduction, the hood pulled up. Four black wolves trotted on his heels, a fifth one at his side. Even from across the valley, I could tell he had a hand on its shoulders.

Yeah, it was so huge that he, a tall man, could casually rest his hand on its back.

Nadine pushed into motion, her steps urgent. I hastened after her, my stomach twisting. Would he punish us if he reached the house first? I didn’t understand how any of this was supposed to work. No one had explained anything.

We reached the cabin first. Nadine toed off her shoes and shoved them onto the shelf by the door. I tugged off the rubber boots I’d worn for shit-shoveling duty, relieved that my running shoes had been spared. I should have put them to good use last night by running the hell away from the Ghost.

As I straightened, the door swung open. The Ghost stood in the threshold. His wolves were gone, but fear still skittered down my spine. Though shadows filled his hood, hiding his face, I could feel his eyes on me and my heart leaped.

He closed the distance between us—then swept right past me. Striding across the front landing, he ascended the staircase, vanished into the room at the top, and closed the door with a soft click.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I bent my head and hurried to the bathroom to wash up before dinner. The Ghost was in the house, and I could feel the difference in the air.

The master was home.

CHAPTER NINE

That night, I lay awake on the bottom bunk, a light blanket covering my bare legs. Thoughts churned in my head, chasing away sleep.

What was I doing here?

How would I escape?

Was there a way to save Nadine and the other captives?

So far, Nadine had shown no signs of wanting to be saved, but I wasn’t fooled. Fear clung to this place, and everyone was terrified of the Ghost. He held them in his sway, the mere threat of his attention keeping them obedient.

He hadn’t joined his workers for the evening meal. Of course not. He’d disappeared upstairs, and Morgan had carried a covered platter to his room before dinner. We’d feasted on salad, buns, baked potatoes, and roast chicken. Again, I couldn’t complain about the food.

After eating, several people stayed in the kitchen to do the dishes, and the rest of us … I’d figured we’d be put back to work, slaving until late in the night. But nope.

Nadine and two boys played a board game in the lounge room. Omar and another mid-twenties guy studied ancient-looking textbooks at the dinner table. Two young women retreated to their rooms with paperback novels from the bookshelf, and the youngest girl sat in the corner, drawing. Either the Ghost was crazy lax or crazy smart, but he allowed his captives near unrestricted free time in the evenings to do whatever they pleased.

Too restless to pretend to read a book, I’d explored the cabin’s main floor and basement. No phones, computers, laptops, tablets—no technology beyond the kitchen appliances. Not even a TV. No way to connect with the outside world.

Eventually, I found myself in the front entryway, glaring up the staircase. Behind that closed door was the Ghost. What was he doing? What did he have hidden in there? If I planned to escape, I’d probably have to find out.

Morgan noticed me loitering by the stairs and took me to a storage room in the basement where I picked out a few outfits from bins of spare clothes. Nothing fit great but it was better than wearing my stinky thrift-store outfit.

With nothing else to do, I went to bed early. My roommates soon followed: Nadine, the young tween Shanice, and Miesha, an unhealthily thin girl around my age with short stringy hair and a nose piercing. She didn’t talk to me at all.

Unhappy, unhealthy teens and young adults, isolated on this farm and forced to work. Free time in the evenings changed nothing. Even if I didn’t understand the specifics yet, the Ghost was using them, abusing them, and I would bring him down.

As my roommates drifted off to sleep, my thoughts meandered to the people I’d left behind. Aaron would be freaking out. Kai would be planning his next move with quiet urgency. And Ezra … when an enemy guild had threatened Aaron, Ezra hadn’t handled it well. I’d glimpsed his dangerous temper, normally hidden beneath his unassuming calm. How would he react to my capture?

Tears pricked my eyes and I squeezed them shut. What had I done? In my desperation to save Nadine, I’d put them in a worse position—having to save me. My stomach dropped sickeningly, and I thought it was anxiety over the unfair suffering I was causing the guys. But the fear spiraled even deeper, and I snapped my eyes open.

A black wolf stood beside my bed.

Its nose twitched as it inhaled my scent. Up close, it was even bigger than it had looked in the pasture, shaggy fur adding to its bulk. Unnatural eyes, sharp with cunning, studied me—vibrant red, devoid of pupils. Eerie. Uncanny.

I pressed into the mattress, scarcely daring to breathe as the creature examined me. Its lips lifted, displaying monstrous white canines.

Blankets rustled in the bunk above me and a head appeared over the edge. Young Shanice peered sleepily at the fae wolf.

“Grenior?” she mumbled.

Oh thank god, she would help me.

“Are you going to bite her?”

My stomach dropped further. There was no concern in the girl’s question—only curiosity, like I was a particularly tasty cake about to be sampled.

Grenior the wolf opened its long muzzle, snout wrinkling into a silent snarl as its hackles rose. Its red eyes, locked on me, blazed with magical light. The snarl shifted from silent to audible, rumbling through the small room.

A loud snap broke the silence.

The Ghost stood in the bedroom doorway, dressed in his long coat with the shadowy hood, one hand lifted. He snapped his fingers a second time and Grenior huffed irritably. Its snarl faded and it turned, nails clicking on the floor as it padded past the Ghost out of the room.

My heart didn’t slow its panicked laps through my ribcage, convinced I was about to be eaten.

Without a word, the druid disappeared into the hall. I lay there for about ten seconds, hyperventilating, then flung the blankets off. Shanice was still hanging over the edge of her bunk when I flew out of the room. As I entered the hall, the front door latched quietly, and I pelted toward it. Flinging it open, I stumbled barefoot onto the porch.

The Ghost was striding down the path, his dark form lit by the near-full moon in a cloudless night sky. As the bang of the door echoed through the still air, he didn’t pause.

But the four wolves trotting alongside him glanced back. Their glowing red eyes fixed on me.

I opened my mouth to shout after him … then slowly closed it. Heart racing, I wondered if it was smart to remain silent—or just cowardly. If I called out, would he stop? If I ran after him, would he turn back? I’d never find out, because I was too afraid to try.

Standing on the porch, I watched as he and his fae wolves crossed the valley and disappeared into the forest. For a long time after, I stared into the night, waiting for the Ghost to return.

Faint light tinged the eastern horizon when I finally gave up. Exhausted, I stumbled back to the room and crawled into my bed. Eyes burning with tiredness, I buried my face into my pillow.

Thirty minutes later, I found out the hard way that labor on a farm begins at the ass-crack of dawn.

Ghost Captivity, Day Four.

Standing at the edge of the apple orchard, I gazed into the lush forest. The late afternoon breeze rustled my ponytail and the trees sighed softly as their leaves fluttered. No freaky silhouettes patrolled from the shadows and my fellow captives were busy with their chores.

Three steps in front of my toes, a path wound into the trees.

With a final, cautious scan of my surroundings, I jogged onto the trail. I didn’t know what I expected to find in the woods, but I was desperate to claw my way even an inch closer to escape. To something. Anything. A hint, a clue, a tip, a whisper of potential. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed out of this place.

The leafy trees closed over me as I ran into their cool shadows, feet pounding on the path. Branches slapped my arms, but I didn’t slow. Five minutes of monotonous greenery passed, then—light? Ahead, sunlight glowed through the branches—a clearing! Excitement flashed through me and I pushed harder.

I burst into the sun—and found myself back in the orchard.

Panting for air, I stared at the apple trees, then turned around. A trail stretched into the woods—the same trail I’d run down. I was standing in the exact same spot where I’d entered the forest, but the path hadn’t looped back. I’d run straight. I was sure of it.

How the hell did I end up back where I’d started?

Just in case I was going crazy, I launched up the trail once more, this time at a brisk walk. The path cut straight through the green forest gloom, and I concentrated on each step, ensuring I didn’t somehow get turned around.

Ten minutes later, the perfectly straight trail ended in the orchard, right where I’d started. How?

Magic, that was how. I rubbed my hands over my face, struggling to keep my composure. Did the Ghost have a spell that encompassed this entire valley, preventing anyone from leaving? That seemed impossible, but what did I know? His magic had stumped the Crow and Hammer mythics. When Aaron, Kai, and Ezra had tried to save me in the park, they couldn’t reach the gazebo. Had they found themselves running back out of the park from the same place they’d entered?

I was trapped in this valley. Even if I’d been willing to take my chances traversing the wilderness, I couldn’t.

Breathing deeply before I did something embarrassing like cry, I stomped back to the two big buckets half filled with rotten apples for the compost and got to work.

For four days, I’d toiled on the farm. I didn’t have a problem sleeping after the first night; every muscle aching with exhaustion, I’d passed out the moment my head hit the pillow. No late-night visits from a fae wolf had woken me, and the Ghost had made himself scarce.

Around the farm, the atmosphere was more relaxed, and once I’d proved I could work as hard as anyone else, the others lost some of their hostility. They weren’t friendly and no one liked questions, but the mood had improved. And, as they got used to me, they started talking. Not to me, but near me, and I learned more about them.

Morgan was a witch, and so were Shanice and Miesha, my two roommates. In the afternoons, they went with Morgan to train. Terrance, the other in-charge guy, was an alchemist and he was training Omar and a young man with buzzed hair and a constantly stony expression. Jasper, a seventeen-year-old with brown hair and a strong desire to be shirtless the moment he walked outside, had recently begun his apprenticeship as well. Everyone was getting trained in their magic.

Why train captives? I didn’t get it, but it had grown painfully obvious that I was missing something important—something that would explain what this place really was. “Prison” clearly didn’t apply.

Finishing in the orchard, I headed for the house. As I left the trees, the sun hit me and I tipped my face toward its warmth. The farm had felt colder for the last few hours—ever since the Ghost had returned from last night’s sojourn into the mountains. I’d seen him arrive from across the pasture, striding out of the forest with his black fae wolf at his heels. Like before, he’d gone straight into the house, probably to lock himself in his secret second-floor lair.

I cut onto the track that led from the barn to the cabin, absently wiping my hands on my pants. It was almost dinnertime and half the mythics were already inside, while the rest were either making their way to the house or lazily finishing their chores.

Nadine sat on a stack of firewood, observing Jasper as he raised an axe and brought it down on a log, splitting it clean in two. Of course, the seventeen-year-old boy had his shirt off, displaying his skinny teen muscles for his appreciative female audience. He balanced the split piece on the chopping block for a second hit, then paused as another teen jogged heavily past the house.

“Pick up the pace, Kayden!” Jasper called laughingly. “You won’t get in shape lumbering around like a bear.”

I’d noticed Kayden, a stout teenager with a mop of brown hair, jogging laps around the pasture every morning and afternoon since I’d arrived. Just watching him made my legs hurt in sympathy. Was the mandatory track and field a cruel and unusual punishment?

Drawing level with the woodpile where Nadine perched, Kayden stumbled to a halt and braced his hands on his knees. “Shut up, Jasper.”

“You can do it, Kayden,” Nadine said bracingly. “Mages have to be in great shape to strengthen their magic, so this will all be worth it.”

“I know,” he panted, his shirt sticking to his back and chest as he stepped into a leg stretch.

My eyebrows crept up. Huh. So not a punishment, but training? That mages needed to be in good shape was news to me, but it explained why all the ones I knew were in peak physical condition. I’d assumed the guys were just vain—not that I had a problem with it either way, since I enjoyed the view. And in Aaron’s case, more than the view.

As I drew nearer to the teenagers, Jasper frowned at Nadine, who was focused on Kayden as he stretched. Scowling, Jasper swung his axe down with excessive force. The log split and a piece flipped end over end before smashing into the woodpile a foot from Nadine’s knees.

“Hey!” she yelled angrily.

“Sorry!” Jasper took a step back. “I didn’t mean to—”

Nadine let out a blood-curdling scream and jerked her feet into the air.

I was running for her before my brain fully registered the terror in her voice. She fell off the woodpile, still screaming, and Jasper and Kayden ran toward her—then backpedaled, their eyes fixed on the ground, Jasper clutching the axe.

Nadine ran out of air and her scream broke just long enough for me to hear it: the telltale rattle.

I flew past the chopping block and ripped Jasper’s axe out of his hands. As I charged in, I saw the coiled snake, its rattle a blur. No idea how many feet long, but it was big, fat, and mean.

Skittering around it, I stuck out the axe head and the reptile’s focus snapped toward the new threat. It raised half its body, coiled in a tight S, ready to strike. I wiggled the axe head, drawing the snake’s attention away from Nadine. Its rattle filled the air with the distinctive hissing clamor, and its diamond-shaped head weaved.

“Pull Nadine away,” I ordered Jasper.

He gaped fearfully at the snake, unmoving.

“Pull Nadine away!” I shouted.

He jumped, then scrambled into motion. Grabbing her under the arms, he dragged her backward. The snake’s head darted toward her, and I sprang closer, waving the axe head.

The snake struck, fast as lightning. Its fangs hit the axe blade. As it recoiled, I shoved the top of the axe down on its head, pinning it to the ground. The thick body writhed and I pressed down harder.

Kayden joined Jasper and they dragged Nadine away. When they were clear, I dropped the axe and leaped backward. The snake coiled into a tighter ball, rattling furiously.

Kayden crouched beside Nadine’s leg, tugging ineffectually at her pants. I took one look at the blood-smeared punctures in her jeans, just above her ankle, then pushed Kayden aside. Heaving her into my arms, I sped toward the house with Kayden on my heels.

Jasper ran ahead and opened the door. I swept inside, already bellowing, “Morgan!”

We burst into the kitchen. Omar and Miesha were at the long island, in the middle of preparing a super-sized bowl of salad for dinner. They gawked at our sudden appearance.

“Where’s Morgan?” I demanded.

Omar’s eyes widened. “She—she’s gone for the—”

“Where’s Terrance?” I cut in.

“He went to get some—”

“Is he nearby? Go get him!” I snarled. I set Nadine on the counter, then shoved everything out of the way. Miesha grabbed a cutting board before it fell, then swiftly cleared the island of the salad dishes. With my help, Nadine lay back, her eyes showing white all the way around and her breathing fast and shallow.

I didn’t think snake venom worked that fast—she was probably just terrified—but I also knew the only type of rattlesnake that lived in these parts was no laughing matter.

I swung toward Omar. “She needs a hospital.”

“But—but that’s—we can’t—”

“Is anyone here a healer?”

“No. There are alchemy treatments for snake bites but I don’t—” He broke off, his attention flitting to something behind me. Miesha, Jasper, Kayden, and Nadine went rigid as well.

I spun around.

The Ghost had appeared in the kitchen doorway, and I wouldn’t have recognized him if not for the unnatural shadows beneath his hood that concealed his face. Instead of his usual villain coat, he wore a black sweater and lounge pants, his hands and feet bare. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve assumed my shouting had woken him from a nap—but evil rogue mythics didn’t take naps.

He strode into the kitchen, and Jasper and Kayden scrambled out of his way. His hood moved as he scanned Nadine from head to toe, his attention stopping on the punctures in her jeans.

“Everyone out.”

At that raspy, rumbly command, everyone shot for the kitchen door. Everyone except yours truly.

The Ghost’s hidden gaze appraised me. I planted my feet, hands clenched as I glared at him, silently daring him to blast me into Tori goo. That’s the only way I was budging.

He flicked his hand at Nadine. “Get her pants off.”

My hackles rose. Yes, it made sense that her pants needed to come off before her leg swelled, but hearing it from him made me want to throw myself over Nadine and shield her.

He didn’t wait for me to obey. Sweeping an arm over the counter, he sent a pile of vegetable peelings spilling onto the floor, then strode to the wall of alchemy bottles and pulled down items. With shaking hands, Nadine unbuttoned her fly. I jumped to her side and helped pull her jeans off. Her ankle was already fattening, the skin pink around the twin punctures in her pale skin. She self-consciously pulled her shirt down over her underwear.

The Ghost pulled more supplies from the cabinet under the shelves, and I watched as he turned to the spot he’d cleared on the counter and drew a circle on the wood in chalk. After filling the white ring with strange symbols, he opened a bottle, poured the yellow liquid into a large bowl, then placed the bowl in the circle’s center. Dried leaves went on top of a drawn symbol. A tiny bowl got a few drops of a green liquid thicker than syrup.

He worked swiftly, no hesitation in his movements. I glanced at Nadine’s leg, shocked to see how much the swelling had spread. A quiet whimper escaped her, and I caught her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. She gripped my fingers with painful force, panting for air.

“My face is going numb,” she whispered.

“You’ll be fine,” I told her, one eye on the Ghost as he added another ingredient to his concoction.

Pushing the bottles aside, he pulled a steak knife from the block behind him and nudged his sleeve up. Dark tattoos wrapped his forearm—on the top was a pattern like black feathers sweeping down from his upper arm, and on the underside were five elaborate circles, four containing complex runes and one empty.

He nicked the ink-free skin just above his wrist. Blood dripped onto a rune he’d drawn on the counter. The chalky lines hissed, faint steam rising from them.

Tossing the knife onto the back counter, he chanted softly, the archaic words rumbling from him in a mesmerizing cadence. The lines of the circular spell hissed louder and began to glow. His voice rose slightly on the final phrase of the incantation.

Light oozed from the circle. The ingredients he’d added around the center bowl glowed, and tendrils of colored smoke rose from them. The vibrant mist spiraled upward before sucking into the bowl. A puff of rainbow mist whooshed out, then all light and color faded. The ingredients from the outer circle were gone, replaced by piles of powdered ash.

The Ghost grabbed a white tea towel and ripped it in half, then dunked one piece into the bowl. Carrying it over to Nadine, he pulled the rag out, dripping with greenish liquid, and wrapped the soaked fabric around her swollen ankle.

She let out a soft breath. After a minute, the cloth began to turn brown. Warily, I watched the stain spread and darken, wondering what the hell was happening. The Ghost waited a bit longer, then pulled the cloth off her leg, opened the cupboard under the sink, and dropped it into the garbage.

Half an hour of intensive work, three minutes of treatment, then straight into the trash?

The back of my neck prickled and I looked over my shoulder. Terrance stood in the doorway, and crowded behind him were most of the mythics who lived here. They observed silently, craning to see what was happening.

The Ghost examined Nadine’s leg—or I assumed that’s what he was doing, but it was hard to tell with the stupid magic shadows in his hood—then pressed his wrist to her forehead, checking her temperature. She stiffened, her eyes wide and pink tinging her cheeks. As he pulled his hand away, I glimpsed the rune tattooed over his palm.

“Watch over her for the night,” he ordered, directing the command at me. “If the swelling doesn’t go down or if she develops a fever, get Terrance.”

Then he strode out of the kitchen, the mythics pressing against the walls as he brushed past them. A moment later, the upstairs door banged shut.

Silence pulsed through the house, then everyone poured into the kitchen, surrounding me and Nadine in a chaotic bustle.

“Did you see that?”

“Amazing!”

“He didn’t check a grimoire once.”

“He didn’t even measure anything!”

“Terrance, could you have transmuted a poultice potion that fast?”

Terrance shook his head. “It would have taken me over an hour on a good day.”

Jasper’s eyes glowed with admiration. “And that’s why he’s the best alchemist on the west coast. Damn. I can’t wait to start my apprenticeship.”

“You won’t be apprenticing with him,” another guy snapped.

I gulped. Yeah, I’d guessed the Ghost wasn’t merely a druid, but there was my confirmation. Kai was right. The Ghost was a di-mythic: a scary dark druid and a gifted alchemist. Oh joy.

A twinge of pain ran through my hand and I realized Nadine was still clutching my fingers as she stared at the counter. I followed her gaze. Drops of drying blood splattered the wood—the Ghost’s blood.

“Okay,” Terrance said, his quiet voice cutting through the chatter. “Let’s clean this up and finish dinner. Victoria, will you help Nadine to her room? We’ll bring you two some food.”

Nodding, I pulled Nadine’s arm around my shoulders and helped her limp out of the kitchen. As we left, the captive mythics cleaned up the mess on the floor while Terrance returned the alchemy ingredients to the shelves.

In the quiet bedroom, Nadine sat on her bunk and I sat across from her.

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“Better.” She stretched her bare leg out and wiggled her puffy toes. “My leg is throbbing but most of the pain is gone.”

I huffed in relief. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She peeked at me through her eyelashes. “Thank you.”

“For what? I wasn’t the one who concocted magical antivenom out of nothing.”

“You saved me from the snake.”

“Oh.” I shrugged. “I wasn’t about to let it bite you a second time.”

“Well … thanks.”

As she laid back on her pillow, I pulled the blankets over her bare legs and perched on my mattress again, squinting at the ceiling.

I could explain the Ghost’s quick response as a slave master protecting his investment. But I was having trouble explaining his captives’ reaction. When they’d come into the kitchen, that hadn’t been fear or wariness. It had been respect and amazement.

Already I’d suspected this wasn’t your typical “captor and his prisoners” scenario, and their open admiration supported my vague theory. Whatever was going on, they didn’t see him as their captor. They saw him as their leader.

This wasn’t a secret abduction operation disguised as a hippy farm for mythics. It was a cult. And somehow the Ghost had convinced these people he was their savior. Their guardian. And they would protect him in turn.

Which meant I couldn’t count on anyone’s help in escaping this place. I was on my own in the worst way possible.

CHAPTER TEN

Ghost Captivity, Day Eight.

A solid week had gone by, and I was ready to enact my brilliant escape plan, so masterful and unexpected the Ghost would immediately surrender out of respect for my genius. Haha … yeah right. I was in so far over my head I could see the sharks circling above me.

“So there’s Miesha,” Nadine chattered animatedly as we folded towels on the dining room table, “absolutely cowering in front of this darkfae. I mean, I would’ve been scared too—that thing was free-kay—but all fae scare her, even pixies. Honestly, I don’t know how she’ll ever be a proper witch.”

Adding a folded towel to the stack and pulling another one off the pile, I asked curiously, “What’s a darkfae?”

“Type of spirit.” She flicked her bangs out of her eyes. “Don’t quote me on this, because I only learned about them after coming here, but the scary fae are divided into wyldfae and darkfae. Wyldfae are, like … neutral? Mostly neutral? … toward humans. While darkfae are nasty psychos that go out of their way to hurt people.”

“And a nasty psycho fae just wandered onto the farm?”

She nodded energetically. “So Miesha is practically peeing her pants, but Shanice strolls right up, gives the fae this look, and tells it not to take another step or the druid will skin it alive.”

“Shanice said that?” Little twelve-year-old Shanice?

“Right? She’s totally fearless.” Nadine snapped the wrinkles out of a towel and folded it. “I heard she came from a black witch coven. Morgan mentioned once that Shanice kept trying to sacrifice chickens in her rituals until he had a talk with her. She’s doing better now.”

No one in this place called the Ghost by anything other than “he” or “the druid” and it rubbed me the wrong way. In Nadine’s case, she probably didn’t know his reputation, but did none of the others call him by a real name?

I’d been considering a few different monikers. My top choice was Bugly—as in busted-ass ugly. Since he kept his face hidden with stupid magic-shadow hoods, I was going on the assumption that he was too hideous for the light of day.

That wasn’t a thought I planned to share with Nadine, though. After I’d gone face-to-fangs with a rattlesnake for her, she warmed up to me in a big way, and I didn’t want to ruin our new rapport.

“So what happened with the darkfae?” I prompted.

“He came out of the house two minutes later and the fae went with him into the forest. I bet the darkfae regretted breaking his rules. Aside from the vargs—the big black wolves, you know?—he doesn’t allow fae into the valley so we don’t get hurt.”

Whenever she spoke of the Ghost, her eyes shone with an obvious case of hero-worship. Hoo boy. This was a tricky situation for sure.

As she chatted about her fellow captives—or should I say devotees?—my thoughts wandered. I’d gone into my meeting with the Ghost aware of his reputation and prepared to take him down. Nadine, and presumably the others, had gone to him in search of a rescuer. They’d wanted a new life, and he’d given them a safe place for lost mythics to start over.

Remembering Gregory Stern’s pitch at the youth shelter, I had to reassess his sincerity. How much did he know about this place? Maybe he really believed he was sending mythic kids to a secure, if unorthodox, safe house and not into the clutches of a vicious rogue.

As much as I hated to admit it, the Ghost was living up to his end of the deal. Yeah, life here was painfully simple, but their needs were met, they could train in their magic, and they enjoyed perfectly reasonable amounts of free time. No one hurt them. No one abused them. They didn’t have to sleep on the streets or scrounge for food. They were safe.

But it was still wrong. They were isolated, brainwashed, and convinced the sun shone out of the Ghost’s ass. They were completely at his mercy, but no one realized it. And my questions about the others who’d disappeared from the ranch were still unanswered.

I rubbed a hand over my face. This wasn’t a happy little mythic cult where the Ghost kept a posse of admirers to stroke his ego. He dealt in the dark arts, bought and sold black magic, and associated with darkfae. He was a known killer, a rogue that MagiPol wanted dead or alive, and he was universally feared by the local mythic community.

Whatever he was hiding here, he was hiding it very well.

“You okay, Tori?”

Startled out of my thoughts, I gave Nadine a quick smile. “Just a headache. I got a lot of sun yesterday.”

“Ugh, yeah, I hate weeding the garden too.”

I watched her fold the last couple towels, aching inside. I desperately wanted to save her, but how did I convince her she needed saving?

Morgan stuck her head into the room. “Are you finished yet? Once you put those away, help Nekhii collect eggs from the henhouse.”

Like all my days here, the afternoon passed quickly. I stuck with Nadine, and we breezed through our chores with lots of time to chat. She must have been choking on her tongue to keep so quiet during the first few days, because the floodgates had opened. Without intending it, she had revealed a lot about herself and the others here.

For example, I found out she would be training with Terrance next month—basic sorcery and alchemy. Aaron, Kai, and Ezra had guessed correctly; Nadine did have a mythic bloodline. They’d also guessed correctly that she hadn’t been aware of her heritage. Everything she knew about magic and mythics she’d learned after arriving here.

“Have you talked to Morgan about training?” she asked as we walked through the dusky shadows after dinner, each carrying an empty bucket that had recently held apple peelings. We’d thrown them to the pigs for an after-dinner snack, and as we headed back to the house, the windows glowed invitingly.

“Me?” I’d told the Ghost I wasn’t a mythic, but it seemed he hadn’t shared that tidbit. Though, even if I were one, I wouldn’t have asked Morgan about anything. Her civility hadn’t improved much since our unpleasant first meeting. “Not yet.”

“You should,” Nadine said brightly. “Morgan and Terrance can only do so much for mages and psychics, but they know some tricks and …”

She trailed off, her steps slowing. In the deepening shadows, a figure in black rose to his full height and stepped over the alchemy garden’s fence. The Ghost. He did a lot of nighttime wandering, sometimes gone for a few hours, sometimes vanishing for days. Maybe he hid his secrets outside the valley.

Determination burned through me and I walked off the path. I wanted to see what he was up to. If I could prove he was a nasty piece of work, I could convince his worshippers of the same.

Nadine hesitated, then hurried after me, clutching her bucket. As we drew nearer, movement on my flanks brought me up short. Two giant wolves—vargs—stalked out of the shadows, their red eyes glowing. Damn it. Foiled already.

The Ghost whistled quietly. The wolves released me from their cutting glares and trotted toward him. Taking that as permission, I ambled after the beasts, putting all my acting ability into feigning nonchalance.

Not bothering to acknowledge our approach, the Ghost finished tying a bundle of fresh-cut stems together. Stacked at his feet were two more bundles of twigs and four repurposed wine bottles that held bizarre liquids—one violently pink, one pitch black, one with glowing green bubbles, and one that was yellow with a red blob suspended in the middle.

He considered his pile of stuff, then reached over and plucked the bucket from my grasp. He dumped the plant bundles into the bucket, but unless he could sprout a third hand, he would have a hell of a time carrying everything himself. Folding my arms, I waited to see how he would manage it.

“Um,” Nadine said, almost whispering with sudden shyness. “Would you like some help?”

I’m not sure why, but something about the way his shoulders shifted suggested the question surprised him. He hesitated, then held his bucket out. Excitedly, she set hers down and took the new one.

Lifting the four wine bottles by their necks, two in each hand, he turned to me. I didn’t uncross my arms, debating with myself. I wanted to see what he got up to around here, but I didn’t want to volunteer to be his pack mule.

“Tori,” Nadine hissed out of the corner of her mouth, shooting me a pleading stare.

Ugh. Fine. I would help, but only so as not to ruin her special moment with her hero. I took the bottles from him and tucked them under my arms. Now he was carrying nothing. Lazy ass.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Go where? I didn’t get a chance to ask as he strode away from the garden, his coat flapping behind him. Grumbling under my breath, I followed Nadine as she skipped after him with the bucket of plant trimmings. The two vargs sped ahead of us, their noses to the ground, and I glimpsed two more dark shadows farther out. The fifth one was probably guarding the pasture or something.

The Ghost led the way, but he wasn’t heading toward the house. Not even the barn. He was walking straight toward the tree line, a forested slope rising in our path. I gulped back my apprehension. This was what I’d wanted, right? A chance to see what the Ghost was hiding beyond the valley limits. A chance to see where he went at night.

The forest shadows engulfed us, and the Ghost’s dark silhouette was even more unnerving surrounded by towering trees and crawling roots. He was back in full “bad guy” gear, with his long coat, deep hood, and dark pants. I eyed his gloved hands, remembering the runes tattooed on his forearms and palms.

This time, I didn’t walk out of the trees at the same starting point. Damp leaves rustled underfoot as we forged deeper into the forest. At first we followed a winding path, but as dusk deepened into twilight, I lost sight of the trail. Birds and squirrels and other critters flitted about, their constant clamor almost disguising how the Ghost made minimal noise as he walked. The crunchy footsteps were all mine and Nadine’s.

Oh, and the vargs? They made no sound at all. I couldn’t see them anymore, but I didn’t doubt they were nearby.

I cradled the potion bottles more tightly. I was a city girl. Give me dark alleys and catcalling sleazebags any day. This forest was creeping me out, and before I lost my cool entirely, I picked up my pace and fell into step beside Nadine.

“Have you ever been in the forest before?” I whispered. I didn’t need to whisper. It just seemed appropriate.

“No,” she murmured, her voice as hushed as mine. “We’re not supposed to leave the valley.”

“You’ve never tried?” I asked in surprise.

“Of course not,” she replied indignantly, then paused. “Have you?”

“Umm.” Maybe this wasn’t something I should admit in front of—

“She tried.”

I started at the Ghost’s deep voice, then glared at the back of his hood. “Oh, so you witnessed that, did you?”

“I didn’t need to see you.”

Pressing my lips together, I considered all possible responses, then went with the obvious choice. “What the hell does that mean?”

He said nothing. Of course.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

The Ghost stopped dead, and I cursed my runaway tongue. The words weren’t too terrible, but I’d accidentally coated them in dripping disdain. Okay, not so accidentally.

He turned, his hidden gaze running over me. I could feel it—that calculating appraisal.

“I should’ve left you behind.”

I blinked, but that was all he said before resuming his trek. Nadine gave me a strange look, then hastened after him. Left me behind? Did he mean he should have left me in the valley, or he should have left me in the park when we met?

And why had his words sent an icy chill deep into my core?

Well, I wasn’t letting him intimidate me. Somewhere under those dark clothes and unnatural shadows was the mythic who’d earned a six-figure MagiPol bounty, yet he’d done no more than act mildly threatening—so far. Something wasn’t adding up with this guy, and I was going to figure it out.

Breaking into a trot, I zipped right past Nadine and matched strides with the Ghost. His shadowy hood angled toward me.

“So,” I drawled, adjusting my grip on the bottles, “where’re we going?”

Silence.

“What’s all this stuff?”

Not a word.

“What happens if I drop a bottle?”

No response—

“You’d probably die.”

Aha! A reply. I squashed my grin. Was I playing with fire? Throwing knives? Shooting bullets straight into the air? Yes, I was. All at the same time.

“Would you kill me?” I asked lightly.

“The contents of the bottle would kill you.”

Oh. Okay, good to know. “What are you planning to do with these?”

Silence again.

“Are you really the best alchemist on the west coast?”

His stride faltered slightly. “Who said that?”

“Someone at the farm. So, are you?”

“Maybe.”

Not particularly modest, was he? “And you’re a druid too, right?” No response, but I supposed that answer was obvious. “Are you the best druid on the west coast?”

“Yes.”

Oh yeah, real modest. “What are those runes tattooed all over your arm?” Nothing. “Are they related to alchemy? They looked very sorcerer-y to me, but I—”

“Sorcery,” he interrupted irritably. “Not sorcerer-y.”

“Yeah, that,” I replied, a cheerful bounce in my step. “So they’re sorcery runes? Like … cantrips? Wait, no, a reusable cantrip is called a hex, isn’t it? Can an Arcana mythic be a sorcerer and an alchemist? Does that count as being di-mythic?”

He stopped again and I took two more steps before halting. As I faced him, Nadine stumbled to a stop, her eyes wide.

“Sorcery and alchemy already overlap,” he said. “Any Arcaner can learn both with enough time, dedication, and drive.”

“So ‘di-mythic’ wouldn’t apply, then,” I guessed, “since it’s all the same class of magic.”

“Precisely.”

“Hmm, interesting.”

“I’m delighted to expand your knowledge of mythics and magic.” His flat tone contradicted the statement. “When we return, we can discuss where you learned about cantrips and di-mythics.”

Oh shit. He knew I was a human, and humans had no business knowing anything about Arcana. How would I explain where I’d learned about cantrips?

I smiled weakly, but before I could respond, his hood turned as he looked past me. “What do you want?”

Blank confusion fizzled through me at his question, then I peered over my shoulder.

We weren’t alone in the forest anymore.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A thing stood a dozen paces away, regarding us with solid black eyes that glittered eerily. Its head, shaped like an upside-down egg, had only the faintest contours for features. Spindly arms hung all the way to the ground and its body was rail thin, every rib showing beneath its shiny gray skin.

I swallowed hard and clutched the potion bottles, pretending my hands weren’t shaking. A real-life boogeyman, except it was probably a darkfae, which made it even scarier.

“Druid.” Its sibilant voice, rougher than sandpaper on stone, grated across my senses. “I come to bargain.”

“I won’t bargain with you,” the Ghost answered, his tone dangerously soft again. “I already told you that.”

It hissed. “You bargain with others. Why do you refuse me?”

“I told you why.”

“Many killers walk these forests. You treat with them.”

“I don’t have to explain myself. Go.”

The creature hissed again. “You bring gifts for Hindarfur?”

“I give gifts to no one.”

“Trade, then,” it snarled. “You trade with Hindarfur?”

“I told you to go.”

A long, thin tongue snaked out of its mouth. “I will trade for your humans.”

“I will not tell you again.”

The thing peeled back its lips, baring sharp teeth. It cackled quietly. “I asked. Now we will take.”

Its “we” would’ve confused me, but as it spoke, two more creatures stepped out of its shadow, identical down to the overlong arms and spider-like fingers tipped with claws. Still, I wasn’t completely terrified out of my mind—not until the Ghost muttered a curse. Did that mean we were in real trouble?

The middle creature whipped its elongated arm up and crackling green magic shot from its hand. I jumped back—but I’d forgotten the Ghost was behind me.

His arm was half raised, light sparking over his fingers, but whatever he’d been about to do, the impact of my body interrupted him. Then the creature’s magic hit us. We hurtled through the air, bottles flying from my grasp, and I slammed down on my back. Wheezing, I lurched into a sitting position.

The Ghost didn’t.

Crumpled beside me with green light sizzling over his body, he didn’t so much as twitch. Uh. Whoops.

Nadine screamed in terror. I sprang up as the three monsters stalked closer, the centermost one cackling, its leering black eyes fixed on the downed druid. It loomed over us, three feet taller than me. Green light filled its hand as it aimed the magic at the Ghost.

Jamming my fingers in my back pocket, I grabbed my Queen of Spades card and pointed it at the monster’s hand.

“Ori repercutio!” I shouted as its magic blasted outward.

With a silent boom, the green light rebounded and hit all three beasts. Black blood sprayed everywhere as slices opened across their chests. They shrieked, their high voices splitting my skull.

From out of the shadows, dark shapes tore into view. Four black wolves, teeth bared and snarls ripping from their throats, charged the three creatures. The darkfae yelped and hissed, retreating as blood snaked down their gray skin. The furious vargs herded them away.

Shoving my card back in my pocket, I whipped around. Nadine was tugging on the Ghost’s arm, trying to turn him over. The sizzling magic had died away, but he wasn’t moving.

Snarls echoed through the trees. The vargs had driven the darkfae away but I doubted they could defeat the trio of monsters. We needed the Ghost for that.

Crouching, I helped Nadine roll the limp druid onto his back. I wasn’t even sure he was alive. His hood had somehow stayed on despite our violent landing and his face was in complete shadow.

I could have felt his wrist for a pulse. I could have put my ear to his chest and listened for his heartbeat. I could have done any number of things.

Instead, I pushed his hood off.

The shadows tried to cling in place, but as the fabric fell away, they dissolved to nothing. I blinked. I stared. I blinked again. Then I looked up at Nadine, kneeling on his other side. Her eyes were huge, her face flushed, and she mouthed four words. I didn’t have any trouble interpreting them, because they echoed my thoughts perfectly.

Holy shit, he’s hot!

The notorious rogue called the Ghost, who kept his face hidden under all circumstances, was a goddamn Adonis. Messy black hair, an ivory complexion, strong cheekbones, and a sculpted jaw combined to make a deliciously perfect final product, given an extra yummy hint of danger by the black feather tattoos running up the sides of his neck. And by my best guess, he was barely older than Aaron and Kai.

Damn it. He wasn’t ugly at all. He would’ve fit right in with my three favorite mages, and I almost growled. So much gorgeousness so wasted.

His forehead crinkled. He sucked in a breath and his eyelids flickered. Panicking that he’d catch me peeking at his super-secret face, I frantically yanked his hood back over his head—a bit too frantically. I overshot my reach and my knuckles cracked against his nose.

He yelped and shot upright, his hood falling off again. Uh. Did I just punch the Ghost in the face?

Holding his nose, he shot me a furious glare. Yes. Yes, I did just punch him in the face. But only a little?

I met his glower and immediately lost my train of thought. Not just lost. The train careened right off the tracks and exploded in a giant fireball of oh my god, those eyes. He had the most striking green eyes I’d ever seen in my life: liquid emerald with a distinct dark ring around the irises, framed by thick lashes.

“What’s the matter with you?” he demanded—and good god, that deep, husky voice was suddenly oh-so-sexy instead of intimidating. Gah! Had he murdered a fae of unholy attractiveness and stolen its powers?

“Sorry,” I wheezed, struggling to pull myself together. It was the surprise, that was all. I just hadn’t expected him to look like Brad Pitt and Bradley Cooper’s beautiful love child. I was already over it. Really, I was.

A cackling shriek cut through the trees and all our heads jerked toward the outcry. The Ghost shoved himself off the ground, his expression grim. He didn’t pull his hood back up. Instead, he slid his coat off and threw it behind him.

Hidden beneath the leather was a sleeveless shirt that displayed his sculpted arms from shoulders down to tattooed wrists. The feather pattern that ran over his skin disappeared under the dark fabric, but that wasn’t all his coat had been hiding.

Hanging from ties around his neck were four crystals in bright colors, shimmering with unnatural vibrancy. Clipped onto his belt were a dozen thin glass vials, almost like test tubes, that ran from his hips around his back, each filled with a potion.

He tugged his gloves off and tossed them aside, then snapped a vial off his belt. Pulling the cork out with his teeth, he downed the liquid like a shot of absinthe.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed. “What did you just drink?”

His glower snapped to me, punching the air out of my lungs. Or maybe that was just his unfairly handsome face stealing my breath away.

“Strength-enhancing potion,” he barked. “Get back and stay out of the way.”

Probably better that I didn’t argue. Retreating a few steps, I joined Nadine in front of a cluster of trees that would shield us from any sneak attacks, though I was hoping the monsters would focus on the real threat.

And I had to say, the Ghost looked every inch a threat.

As a tall, monstrous silhouette slunk out of the shadows, the druid clenched his hand into a fist. A rune on his inner forearm lit up in a swirl of red light. As he opened his hand, matching light formed in his palm and extended into a curved saber, flames flickering off the hilt.

Hissing furiously, the darkfae charged. The Ghost leaped forward to meet it.

They crashed together in a burst of fiery red light and electric green power. I flinched, gripping Nadine’s arm as the Ghost whipped his magic blade across the creature. It swung an arm at his legs, forcing him back. They slammed together again, and as the creature twisted away from the Ghost’s saber, he thrust his other hand at it.

“Impello,” he snarled.

An invisible force struck the creature, throwing it backward. I knew that incantation. So the markings on the Ghost’s palms were sorcery spells—hexes embedded in his flesh.

He surged after the monster, and as they clashed, another rune on his forearm lit up—this one a yellow so pale it was almost white. With a blinding flash, the creature fell, shrieking in agony. But it didn’t stay down, and as it rolled to its feet with green light sizzling across its body, movement among the trees caught my attention.

A second creature loped into view, a crackling orb forming in its hands. As the sickly green light expanded, the leaves on the overhanging tree branches shriveled and turned brown. The ferns nearest the beast melted into soggy black tendrils.

The fae flung its attack at the Ghost. He whipped his sword around and the blast struck it, the impact flinging him into the air.

He should have fallen. He should have slammed down with bone-breaking force.

As he flung his arms out for balance, his feather tattoos blurred—then lifted away from his skin. Shadowy black wings rose off his back, spreading wide as he landed on his feet and skidded backward across the leaf litter.

The wings snapped down, pushing him forward, and he launched at the creatures with scarcely a pause. As he moved, the shadowy wings blurred and resettled over him, turning into tattoos again.

He’d survived that attack, but now he was fighting two creatures instead of one.

I stared around wildly, hoping to see the vargs charge out of the trees a second time. No wolves appeared, but light gleamed across something shiny amidst the leaf litter—a potion bottle. Miraculously, it hadn’t broken when I dropped it.

I snatched the bottle by its neck, and as the second creature conjured another spell, an eerie glow snaking out from its hand like green vines, I ran toward it. It grinned at me, long tongue sliding between its thin lips. It didn’t think the puny human could hurt it.

Drawing the bottle back, I smashed it over the monster’s bony shoulder.

The glass shattered and pink liquid sprayed all over. The fae roared. Rosy smoke billowed off its skin in pretty spirals and the liquid bubbled. Still bellowing, the fae slashed its claws at me.

A hard yank on my shirt pulled me backward and the fae’s claws missed my face by inches. Releasing my shirt, the Ghost grabbed my arm. Pain registered on my senses and when I saw the pink mist spiraling off my hand, generously splattered in liquid, I got a bit lightheaded.

Holding my arm by the elbow, his hand well away from the potion, the Ghost snapped another vial off his belt. He pulled the cork with his teeth and dribbled tangerine fluid over my hand. Cool tingles rushed across my skin and the pink stuff hissed, puffed smoke, then washed away.

He emptied the vial over my hand, rinsing away all the pink, then stepped back. I squinted at the tender spots on my skin and tried not to think about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been carrying an antidote. When I looked up, I discovered we were alone again.

“Where are the things?” I asked shakily.

“The darkfae left.” He rolled one shoulder like it was hurting him. “It wasn’t an easy fight and they’re cowards at heart.”

“Huh. Where’s your fire sword?”

He didn’t offer an answer, but I supposed I didn’t need one. The saber must have dissolved back into nothing, the same way it had formed out of nothing. I glanced at his arms, but the rune tattoos were dark again.

His green eyes slid over me. “You’re impressively reckless with your wellbeing.”

He didn’t sound impressed. I folded my arms and scowled. “You’re very welcome for saving your sexy ass.”

His eyebrows shot up and I almost cringed. Think, then speak. I needed to practice that.

“Is this what you sneak off into the forest to do all the time?” I rushed on. “Trading lethal poisons with darkfae?”

“I don’t ‘sneak’ anywhere,” he growled.

I waved a hand dismissively. “But you do trade in black magic shit with darkfae?”

“Not all darkfae. And as you saw, some of them don’t like it.” He picked up a discarded vial and clipped it on his belt, then surveyed the clearing. Where the pink potion had splattered, the fallen leaves were disintegrating into dust, but that was the least of the damage. All the surrounding trees and shrubbery sported shriveled brown leaves—the life sucked out of them by the darkfae’s magic.

As he headed toward his discarded coat on the ground beside Nadine, she gulped. “Are you hurt?”

Her question came out as a faint warble and she pointed at his midriff with a quivering hand. Darkfae claws had shredded the bottom half of his shirt. He pulled the tatters up to check himself for injuries, giving us girls an amazing view of his ripped abs.

“No,” he said. “I’m fine.”

She nodded dumbly. I could practically see her panties melting. Mine had already evaporated.

As he pulled his coat on, I patted my cheeks, hoping they weren’t as red as Nadine’s. I needed a cold shower. The fact that this dude was a murdering rogue who freely traded in black magic with vicious darkfae should have been as sobering as an entire arctic sea dumped on my head, but that logic wasn’t working as well as it should.

He shrugged his coat into place, then located the other three potion bottles—unbroken, it turned out. Offering them to me, he lifted an eyebrow. “Can I trust you with these?”

“Dunno,” I shot back. “I kind of want to see what they might do to your face.”

“But not my sexy ass?”

I choked. No witty comeback came to mind, so I grudgingly took the bottles. Quiet rustling disturbed the forest, then the vargs appeared. They were normally silent, but two were limping badly. The Ghost briefly inspected their injuries, then started forward. As Nadine and I fell into step behind him, he glanced back.

Green eyes sliding across us, he reached over his shoulder for his hood. As he drew it up and the shadows enclosed his face, he rumbled quietly, “What will I do with you two now?”

I wished I could have seen his eyes when he’d asked the question. Maybe then I wouldn’t have been so afraid of the answer.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ghost Captivity, Day Thirteen.

As I washed my hands, I studied my reflection in the mirror. I’d tamed my wild curls into a ponytail and pinned my bangs off my face. My creamy-pale complexion had warmed after spending so many days out in the sun, but the tan was nothing compared to the explosion of freckles across my nose, cheeks, and shoulders.

I stared into my hazel eyes, the amber and brown flecked with green. My sixteen-year-old self gazed back at me, haunted and hopeless.

Trapped. I was trapped, and all the ugly feelings I’d left behind years ago were creeping back.

Pulling myself together, I dried my hands on a towel and exited the bathroom. In the hallway, I paused as giggling laughter echoed out of the kitchen. My stomach contorted into a tighter knot.

Despite the Ghost’s ominous question about what to do with Nadine and me after our adventure in the forest, he hadn’t done a thing. I’d barely seen him, and if I hadn’t known he kept to himself, I would’ve assumed he was avoiding me. Morgan had assigned me to barn work for the last three days, while Nadine had been relegated to the kitchen, so I’d scarcely exchanged words with her either. We’d talked briefly before falling asleep, but with the other two girls in the room, we hadn’t spoken of the darkfae attack—or our glimpse of the Ghost’s face.

I leaned back against the wall, listening to the post-lunch chatter in the kitchen. What was I doing here? I wanted to save Nadine, but I couldn’t even save myself. I was helpless, and I hated it.

Thirteen days. Aaron, Kai, and Ezra must be out of their minds worrying about me. Who knew what they were doing to find me? And then there was my brother. He wouldn’t have a clue why I’d vanished, and being a cop, he wasn’t the type to sit at home and wait for me to call.

My head thumped against the wall and I closed my eyes. Sick desperation churned through me. Waiting had become impossible to stomach. Escape. I needed to escape. How? How?

“Tori?”

I opened my eyes. Nadine stood at the end of the hall, a wicker basket in her arms.

“You okay?” She hefted her basket. “Want to help me cut up some roots?”

“Sure.” At this point, I’d take any distraction. And, oddly enough, Morgan had failed to assign me any chores for the afternoon.

Nadine grabbed an extra paring knife from the kitchen, and we sat outside on the porch, the basket between us. The stringy roots were dark brown with a fresh, earthy smell.

“What is this stuff?” I muttered.

“I think it’s used in poultices, but don’t eat it. It’s poisonous.”

I wrinkled my nose. Surprise, surprise, another poisonous plant from the Ghost’s garden of death. “Yeah, wasn’t planning to eat it.”

We worked in silence for a few minutes, cutting the large chunks into inch-sized pieces. My hands moved on autopilot and I barely saw the roots or the knife. My mind spun around and around, rehashing everything I’d learned about this place.

“Feeling all right?” Nadine asked eventually.

I gave a small shrug. “Just restless, I guess.”

“I felt that way at first too. I wanted to leave so bad.”

“You did?”

She smiled ruefully as she sawed at a fat root. “I thought I’d made a huge mistake, but it was just the shock. It’s a big transition to go from a regular life—living in the city, going to school, doing homework—to living on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. And the people here seem weird at first, right?”

I couldn’t agree more. Though they weren’t quite as weird as the Crow and Hammer mythics.

“It took me three or four weeks to get used to the new routine, but I’ve been here two months now and I love it.” Her eyes lit up with humor and she lowered her voice. “Plus, if I’d known how seriously gorgeous he was, I would never have considered leaving.”

My mouth twisted. I hoped I didn’t get that starry-eyed, super-crush look when I thought about him.

“Seeing him fight was soooo cool,” she whispered. “I asked Morgan—carefully, so she wouldn’t know why I was asking—and I think each rune on his arms is a magical gift from a fae. Like, a power they gave him in exchange for something.”

In exchange for what, though? Poisons and black magic?

“I don’t have a clue about the wings, though. That was insane. Do you think he can fly?” Her eyes went even bigger, her cheeks flushed, and I could see her crush deepening into infatuation as she spoke. “As soon as I get the chance, I want to ask him—”

“He isn’t like that!”

The words burst out in a furious hiss, and I instantly regretted them as wariness replaced her eager excitement.

“What does that mean?” she asked coolly.

Damn it. Well, since I’d already blurted out the wrong thing, might as well run with it. I leaned closer, lowering my voice.

“He isn’t the person you think he is, Nadine. He has a garden full of poison plants, he makes deadly potions in his kitchen, he trades black magic with darkfae. He—” I swallowed hard and plunged on. “Before I came here, I heard some things about him. He’s a wanted criminal. He’s killed people. The kids he picks up are never seen again—ever.”

She contemplated me in silence, then asked, “If that’s what you’d heard about him, why did you take his offer?”

“I was desperate,” I answered truthfully. Desperate to save her.

“I was desperate too.” She tossed a root into the basket. “My parents were never what I’d call loving. I always felt like a project or something—this thing they wanted to improve but could never make perfect. The older I got, the worse they were over everything. Nothing I did was good enough. I was scrawny, I was weak, I was stupid, I was gullible, I was ugly.”

All words of encouragement I’d heard from my father when I was her age. No wonder I’d seen so much of myself in her.

“That wasn’t enough to make me leave,” she continued. “But then, on my sixteenth birthday, I got this big envelope in the mail. No return address, but I thought it was a birthday gift, so I opened it.” She stared at the knife. “And I learned everything I knew about myself was a huge lie.”

“What do you mean?”

She picked up another root. “There was no letter or anything, but inside the envelope were old newspaper clippings and police reports and printouts. The first news article was from a London paper about a couple who died in a car accident, and how their one-year-old daughter survived. There was a police report that talked about suspicious circumstances surrounding the accident.”

I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say.

“There was a copy of a birth certificate for a Nadine Emrys. She was born in Cheshunt. That’s a town outside London—in England. The couple who died were Stephen and Malinda Emrys.” She dug her knife into the root, more like she wanted to gouge it to death than chop it. “The other things in the envelope were harder to understand. Copies of adoption paperwork with my name on them, but the details were wrong. I think the papers were forged.”

I pulled the knife out of her hands before she hurt herself. She didn’t seem to notice.

“The last few pages,” she whispered, “were the strangest. There was a printout from an obituary. ‘With great sadness, the Bellingham Sorcerers announce the unexpected passing of our honored guild master, Stephen Emrys, and his beloved wife, Malinda. They leave behind their young daughter.’ It went on to talk about Stephen’s and Malinda’s accomplishments … lots of accomplishments. They sounded like important people.”

“They were sorcerers,” I murmured. “That was their guild.”

She clenched her hand around the root and it snapped in half. “The last two papers were from the same guild. An investigation into Stephen’s and Malinda’s murders, and a report about the kidnapping of infant Nadine Emrys from her guardians’ home in London.”

Silence vibrated between us. I hesitated, then touched her shoulder. “Do you think your …” I hesitated to call them parents. “Do you think the couple you grew up with illegally adopted you?”

She looked up, her eyes haunted. “I think they killed my real parents and kidnapped me when I was a baby. Nothing else makes sense. Otherwise, how would I have gotten from England to here?”

“But … why?”

“I don’t know, but when I realized it, I freaked out. They weren’t home—they didn’t care it was my birthday—and I was terrified they would come back and kill me when they realized I knew the truth. I was having a total meltdown, and then the doorbell rang.”

She huffed with faint amusement. “I remembered afterward that my neighbor had promised to visit. She was bringing me a birthday cake. But I was so spooked I grabbed my knapsack and the envelope and took off through the back. I should’ve just opened the door. Running away was dumb, and Varvara would’ve taken me in.”

“Varvara?” I repeated, surprised by the unusual name.

“Varvara Nikolaev,” Nadine said with a passable Russian accent. “I usually call her tatushka. She was … she’s a great neighbor. I think she would’ve helped me, but by then, I’d already run away and I was too scared to go anywhere near my house again. So I went to a youth shelter instead. A counselor noticed me researching sorcerers, and he set up my meeting with the druid.”

“What happened then?”

Her expression softened. “I had no idea who he was. I was scared of him, but more scared of my parents. I told him everything. He listened, then …” Her tension melted away, her spine bending and shoulders relaxing. “He said I could go with him, and he promised I’d be safe.”

“He didn’t give you the ‘walk away or come with me and never return’ line?”

“He did, but I didn’t want to go back so it didn’t bother me.”

“What about now?”

She blinked in confusion.

“Do you want to leave?” I clarified, the words quiet but intense. “You went with him when you were scared and vulnerable, but if you could leave here and still be safe, would you?”

“I don’t want to leave. I like it here.”

“But …” Frustration burned through me. I knew I shouldn’t push her, but I couldn’t stop myself. “He got you out of your parents’ reach, but that doesn’t make him a hero. He’s using you for his own ends, just like he’s using everyone else here. Don’t you want to escape?”

She gazed at me for a long moment, then rose to her feet and picked up the basket of roots.

“You don’t get it, Tori,” she said, her tone surprisingly kind. “I don’t need to escape. I’m not trapped here. No one is.”

My hands clenched into fists, but otherwise I didn’t move as she walked to the door.

Nudging it open with her foot, she glanced back. “If you want to leave, just ask him.”

She vanished into the house, but I stayed where I was, glaring at the sunny valley. Not trapped here? Just ask if I wanted to leave? Yeah, right. Maybe she believed all the previous captives who’d disappeared had gone off on their merry way to start a new life elsewhere, but I knew better. The Ghost wouldn’t let his ex-captives wander into the wider world where they could spill the beans about him and his creepy cult.

His worshippers couldn’t see the bars around them. They thought they were here of their own free will when it was all a cruel manipulation.

But what the hell was I supposed to do about it?

I bleakly pondered the question until the clatter of the door startled me out of my thoughts. Chatting excitedly, all the Ghost’s devotees filed out of the house, and my frown deepened. Morgan and Terrance exited last, just behind Nadine. She waved cheerily as the group filed down the stairs and onto the path.

“Hey!” I jumped up. “What’s going on?”

As the others continued down the track, some carrying baskets with the distinct look of an upcoming picnic, Morgan hung back, her nose wrinkling the way it always did whenever we spoke.

“Where’s everyone going?” I demanded.

“We’re heading into town,” she explained shortly.

“Wait.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re going into town? Just … going? He’s allowing it?” Ugh, now I was doing the “he” thing too.

“Yes. Though, to be clear, you are not allowed. He didn’t give you permission for a day trip.” She checked her watch. “We’ll be back, hmm, after midnight. We’re going to the cinema for a late movie.”

“To the cinema?” I spluttered.

Mistaking my shock for disappointment, she patted my shoulder patronizingly. “We take a trip every month. Maybe he’ll let you join us next time.”

“But—”

“Have a nice day.”

I was still gawking when she hastened away. Snapping out of it, I ran down the steps as she jogged to catch up with the others. “Wait! You’re just leaving me here by myself?”

Rounding the corner of the house, I almost fell on my face in renewed shock. A big white van was parked on the grass, the mythics already loading inside it. Terrance sat behind the steering wheel, and as I stood there like an idiot, Morgan hopped into the passenger seat. The side door slammed shut and the engine rumbled to life.

I could do nothing but watch as the van drove toward the trees where an obvious, if overgrown, track cut through the forest. There had not been a road there yesterday. Was I losing my mind?

If I was, I was losing it real good, because once the van had disappeared among the trees, the dirt road got harder and harder to see until, three minutes later, the forest had reclaimed it. I wasn’t even sure where the road had been anymore.

Goddamn it. Maybe Nadine was right. No one here was trapped—except me.

Stomping furiously, I circled back to the porch. The sun blazed, the beautiful blue sky stretching between mountain peaks. I hadn’t seen this many consecutive sunny days since I’d moved to the coast, and it annoyed me that it was so nice out. It should have been dark and gloomy. Maybe thunderstorms. Or hurricanes.

I glared at the front door. I didn’t want to sit in the empty house by myself, listening to the silence. I wanted to be in that van, heading into town—whichever town, it didn’t matter—where I’d have my first real chance of escaping.

But that bastard knew I’d be gone in a heartbeat if I got the chance.

I stormed away from the house. For half an hour, I meandered about the property, eventually ending up at the paddock fence. Bracing my elbows on the wood, I observed the horses and cattle, grazing serenely. As hopelessness overwhelmed me, stupid tears stung my eyes.

“Do you ride?”

I almost screamed. Whipping around, I half fell into the fence, my heart pounding. I’d thought I was alone. But no, there was one person left, one I’d forgotten to count—and the last person I wanted to deal with right now.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Ghost stood a step away, his eyebrows furrowed over bright green irises. He’d transformed yet again. Instead of a black-clad villain, he wore a white t-shirt tucked into fitted jeans, and a coiled rope hung over one shoulder. I scanned him from his tousled black hair, over his tattooed arms, then down to his feet.

Still clutching the fence and vaguely afraid he might tie me up with that rope, I wrinkled my nose. “Cowboy boots?”

“Riding boots,” he corrected, annoyance flickering over his features. “I asked if you ride.”

“Oh. Uh. ‘Ride’ as in ride horses? That’d be a very big no.”

He shrugged, stepped past me, and jumped the fence in one smooth move. I watched him go with my jaw dragging on the ground for the second time this afternoon. I’d assumed he’d be gone today.

“What are you doing?” I called.

Without looking back, he waved one hand, but I had no clue what that meant. After a moment’s hesitation, I clambered over the fence and into the pasture.

As he strode through the grass, he whistled sharply. The horses’ heads came up, and with prancing steps they trotted over to him. I stopped a safe distance away as he patted the horses and gave them cursory examinations, checking for injuries or something, I supposed. After a few minutes, he looped the rope around a tan-colored horse’s head, tied a makeshift halter, then walked off again. The horse followed, hooves thudding.

Hands shoved in my pockets, I followed him and the horse into the shade of the barn, where he tied the end of the rope to a metal loop on a post. He disappeared into the tack room, where saddles lined one wall, and returned with a handful of grooming brushes. Though I was standing right there, he said nothing as he lined up the brushes on a stall door.

Equally silent, I observed as he brushed the horse down. My attention lingered on the flex of his muscular arms and the shift of the dark tattoos on his back, visible through the thin fabric of his white t-shirt.

“Not hiding your face today?” I eventually asked. Did I lose points for speaking first?

“Everyone is gone for the day.” He worked the brush over the horse’s flank and dust puffed from its coat.

“Everyone but me,” I snapped. “Why couldn’t I go too?”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Don’t trust me how? That I won’t run off? What about the others? You don’t think they might run off?”

“They might, but if they do, I don’t care. They can’t identify me.”

Cold apprehension battled with disbelief, and I didn’t know how to respond. “Nadine can.”

He switched brushes and rubbed down the horse’s legs. “She, unlike you, doesn’t want to leave. And she, unlike you, trusts me.”

My hands clenched, fingernails digging into my palms. “You’re right. I want to leave. Let me go.”

He straightened to his full height, those unreadable green eyes turning to me. “I can’t do that.”

“I knew it,” I hissed. “I knew you were full of shit. You aren’t rescuing vulnerable mythics and giving them a safe home. You’re no white-knight hero.”

With one hand trailing on the horse’s chest, he ducked under its head and vanished around its other side. “Never said I was.”

“Nadine worships you,” I spat accusingly.

“Your point?”

“You—” I gulped back my fury before I said something that would get me killed. “You’re scum.” Well, so much for holding back.

He said nothing, and after a moment, I heard a quiet sound over the scratch of the brush on the horse’s coat—humming. He was humming as he groomed his horse. He held my life and my freedom in his hands and he couldn’t even acknowledge me? Rage splintered through me, one more overwhelming emotion on top of the helpless impotency and simmering fear of the last thirteen days as his prisoner. My composure disintegrated, irrational temper igniting in its place.

“Hey!” I yelled.

The horse’s head jerked up, its ears flattening to its head. It half reared, the lead rope snapping taut. The Ghost caught the rope and pulled the horse’s nose down as he stroked its neck and crooned. Ducking under its head, he stalked toward me.

A wave of fear quenched my unreasoning fury, and I backpedaled as he closed in on me. My back hit a stall door. He stopped a foot away, towering over me.

“So you want to leave.” His rumbling voice was quiet and dangerous, threat hanging in the air like when we’d first met. “Are you ready to talk first?”

“Talk?” I whispered soundlessly.

“Are you ready to share the truth, Victoria?” He loomed closer. “You aren’t a mythic. You aren’t related to any mythics. You haven’t dated any mythics—not seriously enough to leave a mark on your life. You have no obvious ties to the mythic community, but you showed up at the shelter pretending to be a diviner. You talked about magic classes and dark arts. And you agreed to go with me even though you think I’m an evil bastard.”

I lifted my chin. “You are an evil bastard.”

“Never said I wasn’t.” His fingers caught my raised chin, pinching my jaw. “How about the team of mythics who swarmed the park during our meeting? Who were they?”

I swallowed, my throat bobbing. He’d noticed too much. He’d guessed too much. I should’ve known the guys invading the park hadn’t slipped past him.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” I asked harshly. I wanted to jerk my head away from his hand, but I was trapped against the stall door. “Why make your offer?”

“I didn’t know if those mythics were enemies, allies, or strangers to you.” His fingers slipped off my chin and he stepped back. “You were hiding something, but your anger and desperation—those were real. So I took a chance.”

I sagged against the stall door, then pulled myself together. “You believed me because I was angry?” I asked scathingly.

“I didn’t believe a word out of your mouth.”

He stepped into the tack room and returned with a saddle blanket that he laid over the horse. He then brought out a saddle, a leather halter hanging over his shoulder. Flipping the saddle over the horse’s back, he wiggled it into place, then reached under the horse’s belly for the cinch strap.

“I don’t understand,” I muttered.

His hands paused in the middle of buckling the cinch. “I’ve been taking in abused, broken, and abandoned teens for years. I know the signs.”

Horror crystalized inside me, followed by furious denial. “I’m not broken!”

“Seemed like it that night.” Pulling the lead rope off the horse, he put his arm over its neck and guided the bridle onto its head. “Whatever your story is, you don’t need help the way the others did. You’re strong enough to take care of yourself.”

My emotions tumbled over each other, and I didn’t know what to feel first. He thought I was strong?

After adjusting the bridle, he flipped the reins over the horse’s neck, then gave the saddle a final tug.

“You don’t need to be here, but I can’t let you leave. And you know why.” He grabbed the saddle horn and swung onto the horse’s back. His gaze slashed across me. “I took a chance on you, and we’re both paying for it.”

He put his heels to the horse’s sides. With a toss of its head, it clopped past me and out into the sunshine.

You know why. Yeah, I sure did. He might not have guessed I’d been bait to lure him into the open, but he knew I was aware of his reputation. Most of his captives, if not all, knew nothing about a rogue called the Ghost. Even if they rejoined the mythic community later, they’d never connect this place with rumors of a child-napping dark arts master whose face, name, and class were unknown.

Me, though. I knew who he was. I’d seen his face. I was one of only a few people who could link the green-eyed druid and his hippy farm refuge to the infamous Ghost.

He would never let me leave this place alive.

Feeling numb inside and out, I drifted out of the barn. Sunlight blasted my eyes, but I barely noticed. I was trapped here forever. He’d never let me go, and if I tried too hard to escape, he would kill me. He’d have no choice. I was only alive because … because he didn’t want to kill me. That’s what he’d meant when he said we were both paying for his misjudgment. He’d taken on the burden and the risk of keeping an unwilling prisoner here.

I climbed onto the pasture fence and sat, watching him canter the horse the length of the field and back. He rode with easy grace, his strength softened by the gentle way he guided his mount. What kind of evil rogue would put himself through this much inconvenience to avoid killing one girl when he already had so much blood on his hands?

I sighed. The answer was obvious: He wasn’t an evil rogue.

Oh, he was definitely a rogue. He was clearly into some bad shit. But he wasn’t evil. His “captives” were protected and happy. They lived here willingly and could leave whenever they wanted—their trip into town proved that. He’d said himself he didn’t care if they ditched the farm. They didn’t know his name, face, or reputation, and I’d bet if he didn’t want someone to find this farm, they never would, even if they’d been here before.

The fear I’d sensed from the mythics wasn’t fear of him. It had been fear of me. Fear of who I was, why I was here, and how I might destroy the fragile peace they had found in this place. They wanted to protect it—and him. Maybe they didn’t worship him because he’d brainwashed them, but because he’d genuinely earned their respect.

After several laps around the pasture, he walked his mount over to my perch. The horse’s sides puffed, and perspiration shone on the Ghost’s skin, dampening the neckline of his white shirt. He sat comfortably, reins held in one hand, as smooth and confident as Kai on his motorcycle.

“Can I try?” I blurted without thinking.

His head snapped toward me. “You want to ride?”

“Um. Actually, no, I changed my mind.”

I might’ve imagined the glint of amusement in his eyes, but either way, he swung out of the saddle and dropped onto the ground.

“Come over here, then.”

I leaned back, another protest hanging on the tip of my tongue. Swallowing it, I hopped off the fence and cautiously approached him and the tan horse.

“Take hold of the saddle horn,” he instructed as he pulled the reins over the horse’s head to hang from the bridle.

I grasped the leather knob at the front of the saddle. The horse was much bigger than I’d realized—the saddle was level with the top of my head, the stirrup dangling at waist height.

Warm hands closed around my waist and the next thing I knew he was lifting me. I barely got my leg over the horse’s back. As my weight came down on the saddle, the horse shuffled sideways. I clutched the saddle horn, eyes wide.

The Ghost nudged my leg forward and adjusted the stirrup length, then guided my foot into it. “How’s that?”

“Uh, good, I think.”

Holding the reins in one hand, he circled around and adjusted the other stirrup. I slipped the toe of my shoe into it.

“Heels down,” he told me. “Sit up straight.”

I pushed my heels down. The horse shifted and I wobbled. The ground was a long way away.

“You’re slouching.” Moving to my side, he put his hands on my lower back and stomach, his touch firm but gentle. “Tilt your hips forward and put your shoulders back.”

Obeying the pressure of his hands, I adjusted my posture and felt way more balanced. His hands slid away and with a clucking sound, he guided the horse into an easy walk.

As we paced a wide circle, I frowned at the top of his head, his dark hair mussed by the wind of his earlier ride. I did not get this guy. If he wasn’t a dastardly villain and he wasn’t a cult leader—at least not in the nefarious sense—then what was he? What did he get out of rescuing mythic teens and rehabilitating them?

He pulled the horse to a stop and scanned the pasture, tension stiffening his shoulders. The horse’s ears flattened and it arched its neck, blowing a loud, nervous breath.

My hands tightened on the saddle horn. “Is something wr—”

The horse reared. I held on for one terrifying second, then pitched backward.

The Ghost dove for me and I fell against him. With a terrified squeal, the horse bolted. Its hooves thundered as it ran full tilt into the pasture, the reins flying behind it. The Ghost had caught me with one arm under my side and his other elbow hooked under my knee, and I hung awkwardly in his grip, one leg dangling in the air.

“I’m good,” I gasped. “You can put me down.”

He tipped me onto my feet, more focused on surveying the valley. Ahead of the galloping horse, all the livestock were fleeing to the farthest end of the pasture.

“What is it?” I whispered.

“I don’t know yet.” His jaw tightened. “Lallakai.”

At the strange word, the feather tattoos running down his arms blurred. Phantom wings lifted away from his skin, then a shadowy form rose off his back. A huge black eagle pulled out of his torso, its wings rippling and dancing like black smoke. As it solidified, its sharp emerald eyes, almost identical to the druid’s except they lacked pupils, glittered like gemstones, then it swept its wings down and shot into the sky.

“Did that—did that just come out of your body?” I pointed at him with a shaking hand. The feather tattoos had vanished from his skin, leaving only the elaborate rune circles on his inner forearms and the hexes on his palms.

“Lallakai is my familiar.” His gaze skimmed the tree line, and I realized his eyes weren’t as unnaturally vibrant as before. Still beautiful green, but not otherworldly.

The brightness of his irises had been caused by the fae inside his body. Holy f—

“Something is coming,” he growled.

Lallakai wheeled through the sky, then flared her spectral wings. A dark ripple disturbed the air around her, speeding outward—then all the air was rippling. Shadows deepened, and the sunlight disappeared as a shadow fell across the valley.

One moment, the blue sky was empty but for the black eagle. The next moment, it was blotted out by monstrous wings. Not Lallakai’s wings.

Dragon wings.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Two gigantic beasts filled the sky, their ribbed wings stretched wide. Swirling patterns in blues and purples ran in lines down their dark, sleek bodies. Lallakai hovered nearby, dwarfed by their immense size. The dragons descended, growing larger by the second.

The Ghost launched into a sprint—but he wasn’t running away from the dragons. He was running toward them. Why wasn’t he running away!

Hyperventilating, my knees threatening to buckle, I couldn’t move as the dragon pair dropped out of the sky and landed in the pasture. One touched down with flowing grace, wings sweeping in, as soft as a butterfly landing on a flower petal. The other stretched its back legs out, front limbs clamped to its chest, and slammed into the grass like a rockslide off a cliff.

The earth shook under my feet.

I sucked in air. Gulped down my terror. Unclenched my hands. Then, with unsteady legs, I pushed into a wobbly jog—following the Ghost. Was I crazy? Probably, yeah. I should have fled in the opposite direction, but I couldn’t. There were literal dragons right before my eyes, and I was not missing this once in a lifetime chance—even if I got toasted by fiery dragon breath.

As the Ghost reached the beasts, his head barely clearing the larger one’s underbelly, their huge muzzles dipped toward him. One bite would engulf his entire upper body. The monstrous reptiles circled him, the ground vibrating with their every movement.

An animal shriek of pain and terror pierced my eardrums like red-hot pokers. I gasped and stumbled, almost falling to my knees.

The dragon pair shifted, wings twitching and tails snapping with agitation, and as they moved, I saw what they were circling. A dark lump the size of a small car lay across the grass, the Ghost kneeling in front of it. Wings, tail, neck, head, limbs—it was a third dragon, much smaller than the humungous pair.

A baby dragon?

Cautiously, I drew closer. The baby dragon—well, probably not a baby; an adolescent?—lay on its side, chest heaving. With each billow of its lungs, the shining piece of metal sticking out of its ribcage shifted. A steel spear was embedded in its body.

“Victoria!”

At the Ghost’s urgent call, I shot forward. The parent dragons’ heads swung in my direction, and I hoped he’d considered the risk of my becoming a reptile snack. He didn’t look up as I stopped behind him, the dragons towering over us. Dark blood drenched the grass and ran down the young one’s side.

“In the barn,” the Ghost said, focused on the spear. Runes etched in the metal glowed faintly. “In the tack room, under the table. There’s a hatch in the floor. In it is a tote. I need it. Quickly!”

I didn’t waste time on questions. Whirling on my heel, I sprinted across the pasture and jumped the fence. I flew through the big barn doors, barely registering the panicked squeals from the pig pen as I wheeled into the tack room. Under the table, I flipped open the hatch and heaved a large blue tote out of the hidden compartment. The damn thing was heavy and I wheezed as I half jogged out of the barn.

The larger dragon stood at the fence line.

I had a moment to panic, then the dragon stretched a clawed front foot over the fence. Thick digits curled around me, crushing the tote against my chest. Lungs compressed, I couldn’t even scream as the dragon lifted me over the fence and loped across the pasture on three legs. My stomach leaped and dropped like I was on the most terrifying amusement park ride ever.

Returning to its injured offspring, daddy dragon opened its foot and dropped me onto the grass. Heaving the tote up, I staggered the last few feet to the Ghost and set it beside him.

He popped the top off, revealing jumbled alchemy paraphernalia—jars and vials, bundles of herbs, cloths, poultice and bandage rolls, and other healing supplies. He dug into it and pulled items out, piling them in my arms. I clutched everything, my eyes darting from him to the bleeding, impaled dragon. It wheezed with each heavy breath.

He withdrew a roll of parchment paper and spread it on the tote lid, then whipped out a fat black marker. He drew an alchemy circle with swift, confident strokes. A large bowl went in the center, then he picked items out of the pile in my arms. He sped through the preparation, concentration tightening his face.

When he began to chant in an archaic language, the circle glowed and the ingredients on the outer edges turned to colored smoke. The rainbow of mist swirled over the bowl, then the transformation from random components to magical potion finished with a puff.

He picked up the bowl and pushed it into my hands. It contained half a cup of grayish liquid. “Hold that. Be ready.”

Ready for what? I didn’t ask as he returned to the young dragon and grasped the spear’s steel haft. The parents drew closer.

“Echo,” he said gruffly. “Can you hold him?”

The largest dragon lay down and placed its front limbs over the young dragon’s shoulders and rump, pinning it to the ground. The Ghost adjusted his grip on the spear, then pulled sharply.

The dragon screamed. Its head reared up and it almost got its teeth into the Ghost before the other adult dragon restrained its neck. The baby writhed madly as the Ghost drew the spear up. A foot of blood-coated steel pulled free, then the spearhead stuck in place.

“Damn them,” he growled. “Hold him, Echo.”

Shifting closer, he slid his hand down the haft and pushed his fingers into the dragon’s wound. As the creature shrieked, bucking against the ground, the Ghost’s forearm disappeared into its body. The haft turned, then he yanked it out, the hooked end tearing the injury wider. He threw the harpoon aside as blood gushed, cascading over his arm.

“Victoria.” He pressed both hands to the dragon’s side, opening the puncture. “Pour the potion into the wound. Slow and steady.”

Leaning over the dragon, I drizzled gray potion into the bloody hole. It was so little liquid compared to the gaping wound. I shook the last few drops out of the bowl, then stepped back. Blood continued to gush from the injury.

The Ghost pulled out suture thread and a big, curved needle. Following his instructions, I brought over another potion, this one in a large black bottle. He sewed the wound in three layers, one deep inside, one midway down the puncture, and then just below the hard scales that covered the dragon’s body. As he completed each line, I poured the potion over it. Each time the liquid touched the injury, steam reeking of sulfur billowed up and the creature howled and writhed.

Finally, the Ghost sat back on his heels. I thumped down on my butt beside him, holding the half-empty bottle. The whimpering dragon curled into a ball as mama dragon licked it soothingly.

Catching my breath, I took in the majestic parents. Their elegant necks curved as they leaned over their offspring, their scaled bodies as sleek and dark as midnight. The blueish-purple markings that ran in swirling lines down their sides and backs shimmered and sparkled, the patterns shifting like entire galaxies contained within their huge forms.

The father dragon lowered its nose and nudged the druid gently in the chest. The Ghost placed his blood-coated hands on the dragon’s dark scales.

“Yeah,” he murmured, responding to something I hadn’t heard. “Keep him quiet and come get me if he hasn’t improved in three days.” A pause. “I’ll find the hunters. They’ll regret this, I promise.”

The dragon pulled its head back enough to look at the Ghost.

He grunted. “No, I’ll take care of it. If you kill them, you might bring more trouble down on your family. I’ll do it.”

A low rumble vibrated from the dragon’s throat. The mother pulled the young dragon against her chest, wrapping it in her front limbs. Balancing awkwardly on her hind legs, she jumped. Wind blasted me as she laboriously lifted herself into the sky, wings pumping with booming concussions.

The male dragon’s eyes—a solid blue so deep it was almost black—turned to me. I stared back at him, then the dragon took a few running steps that made the ground quake. He sprang into the air after his mate, and they sailed into the blue sky, the air rippling around them. Between one blink and the next, they disappeared.

The Ghost sat for a moment more, then heaved himself up. With clumsy movements, he dumped his supplies back into the tote and snapped the lid on. Then he walked away, leaving the tote where it was.

“Hey,” I gasped, scrambling up. Lightheadedness swept through me, and I stumbled as I rushed after him. “You forgot the tote.”

“I’ll put it away later.”

I glanced back. “What about the horse? Shouldn’t you unsaddle it?”

“Lallakai is rounding up the animals.”

“But … where are you going in such a hurry?”

He lengthened his stride. “To shower.”

Now that he mentioned it, I noticed he was drenched in blood. His white shirt was ruined, his jeans were soaked, his arms were coated from fingertips to biceps. I wasn’t nearly as bad, but I still looked like I’d taken a wrong turn in a slaughterhouse tour.

“Didn’t think you’d be that squeamish,” I muttered.

He reached the pasture fence and climbed over it with a lot more care and a lot less grace than before. He landed heavily on the other side and I thought he was about to eat dirt. Instead, he pushed forward, striding toward the house.

I had to jog to keep up, and another wave of dizziness washed over me. “Oy!”

As he crossed the porch to the door and shoved the front door open, I snatched his arm—and my balance disappeared. I staggered into him and he grabbed the doorframe before he fell. Jerking away from me, he stumbled across the entryway toward the bottom of the staircase.

“Go shower,” he snapped.

“Wait up,” I panted. Holy crap, I did not feel so hot. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you practically falling everywhere?”

“You fell into me.” Gripping the railing, he ascended the steps with all the coordination of a drunk on the verge of passing out. “Go shower!”

“Why are you so obsessed with showering?” I shouted up the stairs, my feet planted firmly on the landing.

He clutched the door handle at the top, swaying so violently I prepared to dive out of the way when he inevitably pitched backward down the stairs.

“Dragon blood is toxic to humans.” He shoved the door open. “Go wash it off before you absorb any more.”

He vanished through the doorway, and I gaped at the empty rectangle. Then I grabbed the railing and hauled myself up the stairs after him. At the top, I careened around the corner and glimpsed a huge room that was part library, part workshop, part laboratory, part studio apartment, and all chaos.

My attention shot to the open doorway in the corner, fluorescent light shining out. I scrambled toward the spacious bathroom. Inside it, the Ghost stood on the tile floor, peeling his shirt off with one hand.

“What do you mean, it’s toxic?” I demanded.

He spun to face me—and pitched sideways. His shoulder hit the wall and he barely stopped himself from falling into the tub behind him.

“Would you go take a damn shower!” he yelled.

“Not until you explain the toxic blood thing!” I shouted back. “Am I poisoned? Do I need an antidote?”

“You. Need. To. Shower.” Each word came out through gritted teeth. He threw his shirt into the sink and kicked off his boots, then turned the taps on full blast. Water sprayed from the showerhead into the tub. “Are you leaving?”

“No! I want answers before—”

Unbuckling his belt, he shoved his pants down. My mouth fell open, words forgotten. Stepping out of his pants but leaving his black boxer briefs on, he climbed into the tub. Water hit his chest and red rivulets rushed down his body.

As he stuck his head under the showerhead to soak his hair, my mouth opened, then closed. Jaw clenching, I grabbed my bloody shirt and yanked it over my head, dislodging my ponytail in the process. Toeing off my shoes as I undid my fly, I pushed my jeans down and stepped out of them. Leaving my bra and underwear on, I stalked across the bathroom floor.

He pulled his head out of the water as I was stepping over the lip of the tub. He jerked back, green eyes widening. “What are you doing?”

“Showering,” I snapped, elbowing him out of the way so I could get under the stream.

Ice-cold water hit me like a slap to the face and I leaped backward with a shriek, crashing into him. Straightening, I reached for the faucet. With a twist of the tap, the temperature rose significantly.

“Much better,” I announced, moving back under the flow and facing him.

His jaw tightened, water dripping off his chin. “There are three other bathrooms with showers.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t be close enough to hear all about dragon blood toxicity. Spill it, druid boy.”

Growling, he stepped closer, forcing me against the tiled wall. Turning around to let the water sluice through the blood splatters on his back, he grabbed a bar of soap and scrubbed his arms.

“Dragon blood is a mild toxin unless ingested,” he explained flatly. “Absorbed through the skin, it causes slowed cognition, loss of balance, lightheadedness, slurring, muscle weakness, and drowsiness.”

“Sounds like getting drunk.”

“Similar, except the drowsiness will turn into extreme fatigue. Expect to sleep for twelve hours.”

Oh goody. “Can I have the soap?”

He passed over the bar. I scrubbed my skin, half watching as he rinsed off. The water flowed down the contours of his muscles, tracing hard pecs and washboard abs. Goddamn. My whole body flushed and I wished I hadn’t adjusted the temperature. Cold water would have been good right about now.

I put my back to him, facing the wall as I washed off my front. After surreptitiously cleaning under my soggy bra, I pulled my hair out of the way and reached awkwardly over my shoulder, trying to reach that pesky spot between my shoulder blades.

A warm hand ran over mine, stealing the soapy suds off my fingers, then slid across my shoulder blades. I froze as he gave my back a quick, thorough scrub.

“You’re good,” he told me.

“Right,” I said breathlessly. Gulping, I swiveled around to rinse—coming face-to-chest with him. He was tall. Like, really tall, with broad, muscular shoulders, currently uninterrupted by any fae tattoos. And he was standing very, very close.

“Um.” I held up the soap. “Want me to …?”

He turned and braced one hand on the wall. His back was just as sexy as his front, all dips and planes of muscle. The man didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. Soaping up my hands, I pressed my palms to his skin, half afraid that touching him would cause me to spontaneously combust. I meticulously cleaned away all traces of dragon blood, washing from his shoulders down to his waist.

Yeah, I would just keep telling myself that genuine concern for his health was why I took my sweet time running my hands over his back.

When I couldn’t reasonably pretend that he wasn’t spotlessly clean, I rinsed my hands off and clambered hastily out of the tub. Halfway through the motion, the room spun and I clutched the towel rack for balance. Holy shit.

A moment later, the water shut off. The Ghost climbed out and, just like me, lost his balance halfway through. I caught his arm and he almost pulled me over before we straightened ourselves out. I tugged a towel off the rack, but he brushed past me, dripping water all over the floor. Scrunching my hair with the towel, I stumbled after him.

He drunkenly wove across the cluttered room, not managing a straight line for more than two steps, and stopped beside a rack on the wall where several dozen crystals hung on cords. Selecting one, he dropped it over his head, then pulled off a matching one and held it in my direction.

I wobbled through the obstacle course of tables, boxes, bins, crates, and junk and stopped in front of him. He looped the crystal over my head and the cool stone thumped against my ribs just below my bra.

“Cleansing crystal,” he slurred. “Clears out toxins faster.”

“Are you sure?” I squinted at his hazy eyes. “You might be too drunk to magic.”

He ignored me and headed for the large bed in the corner, the blankets tangled on one side. I hastened after him, dizzy and stumbling.

“Hold up,” I said. “You can’t get into bed soaking wet.”

I caught his arm but he didn’t stop, and I almost fell on him as he collapsed onto the mattress. He rolled onto his back, eyes already closed.

His pink crystal had slid off center, and I nudged it back onto his chest. Exhaustion weighed on my limbs and my eyelids were too heavy to keep open. I thought about my bunk bed, a whole obstacle course away. In my condition, I had a ninety percent chance of dying on the stairs. No thanks.

Giving my hair a final scrunch with the towel, I tossed it on the floor and crawled onto the mattress. He was splayed across the middle, but I squeezed onto the narrow space beside him and even got my head on the edge of the pillow. Once I was horizontal, fatigue washed through me like ocean waves, dragging me under.

His eyes cracked open. His gaze was dull with drugged exhaustion, but faint surprise sparked. With fumbling motions, he grabbed the blanket and flipped it across us. As the light fabric settled over me, erasing the chill of the air on my wet skin, I sighed in relief.

Then I was asleep.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Nothing like hard work and a mild poison to ensure a deep sleep.

I stirred awake to the pleasant warmth of a body pressed against me. Or, to be fair, me pressed against another body. In my sleep, I’d wormed my way closer to the Ghost and was now plastered against his back. His bare, muscular back.

And I was wearing nothing but a slightly damp bra, panties, and a crystal caught painfully under my side.

Sitting up, I pulled the crystal off and tossed it onto the nightstand, then looked down at my bedmate. Though the room was dark, a bright glow leaked from the bathroom where we’d forgotten to turn the light off. He was sleeping on his side, back to me, one arm tucked under the pillow.

Slipping out of the blankets, I perched on the edge of the bed and indulged in a lengthy stretch and yawn. Fatigue clung to me like a stubborn fog but I wasn’t dizzy anymore. Flattening my frizzy hair with one hand, I crossed the room, scanning the eccentric assortment of stuff as I went. Several long tables were buried in strange gizmos, shelves and cabinets lined the wall, and boxes were stacked in the corners. In the only real open space, a white circle, five feet across, had been painted on the floor.

After using the bathroom, I pulled the door most of the way shut, leaving just enough light to navigate the room. Though most of it was devoted to his alchemy workshop, the far end resembled a studio apartment, with the bed, a worn sofa with a coffee table buried in books, and a kitchenette in the corner.

I made my way to the kitchenette, snooped around until I found a glass, and poured myself some water. In the dark, I couldn’t make out much of the magicky stuff piled everywhere, but my fingers itched to explore. Not being an idiot, though, I knew better than to touch anything. Cursing myself with a black-magic spell would be a great way to top off the last two weeks.

My stomach rumbled, so I pulled the fridge open, discovering leftovers from the previous night’s dinner, snacks, a few bottles of boutique soda, and a crisper drawer full of apples from the orchard. I grabbed one and wandered back to the bed. Standing at the footboard and tapping the apple thoughtfully against my lips, I stared down at the sleeping rogue.

He’d saved the young dragon, and he intended to hunt down the mythics who’d run a hooked harpoon into the poor thing’s ribs. I now had an idea why his criminal record included murder.

Vigilante justice. He wouldn’t file a report with the MPD and wait for someone else to arrest the dragon hunters. He would find them and deal justice himself—and all the MPD would ever know was that the Ghost had killed again.

It probably should have bothered me that he was planning to murder people, but all I had to do was think about the young dragon’s agonized screams for my anxiety to evaporate. The Ghost wasn’t a good person, but in a lot of ways, neither was I.

I set my teeth in the apple, about to bite down, when a quiet knock sounded on the door across the room.

“Druid?” a muffled voice called. Morgan. The others must have returned from their day trip and I’d slept right through it—that, or their homecoming was what had woken me.

I glanced at the Ghost but he didn’t stir.

Another knock, louder. “I have news.”

“The druid isn’t here right now,” I whispered, watching him sleep. Yeah, he was out cold. He’d been covered head to toe in dragon blood and I suspected a dump truck crashing into the house wouldn’t be enough to wake him.

“Druid!” Morgan called, irritation lining her voice. “I heard the water run. I know you’re there.”

Aw, shit. I pursed my lips, then lifted a discarded black t-shirt off a chair. Giving it a cursory check—seemed clean—I pulled it on. It fell past my butt, covering my underwear. Good enough. Apple in hand, I crossed the room and pulled the door open.

Morgan stood on the top landing, arms folded. “Finally! I need to—”

She broke off, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. Her gaze snapped down to my bare legs, came back up, then stuttered to a stop on the shirt I’d borrowed.

Leaning one shoulder on the doorframe, I took a bite of my apple and waited.

A choking sound wheezed through her clenched teeth. “What are you doing up here?”

Oh my. That was some intense derision. I didn’t bother hiding my smirk. I knew exactly what conclusion she was jumping to, and I really didn’t care.

“Where’s the druid?” she demanded, glowering as though I’d confirmed every suspicion and uncharitable thought she’d ever had about me.

“Sleeping,” I said around a mouthful of apple. “What do you want?”

“Druid!” she yelled, craning to see around me.

“He’s sleeping,” I repeated coldly. “Quit shouting.”

“He—he would never—with you—” She spluttered into silence. “I need to speak with him.”

I took another bite of apple and chewed slowly. “Is it urgent?”

“Not particularly, but …” She took a threatening step closer. “Move, Victoria.”

Did I have any reason to keep her out? Aside from my petty dislike of her, vague discomfort kept me rooted to the spot. The Ghost was out of commission, and I didn’t think it was a good idea to let anyone near him until he was up again.

Was I protecting him? I wrinkled my nose. Maybe a little. The guy was poisoned, after all.

“No can do,” I said. “Either tell me what the news is, or come back in the morning.”

She glared stonily. Well, whatever it was, it couldn’t be that important.

I gave her a toothy smile. “Have a nice night, Morgan.”

And with that, I shut the door in her face and walked away, mentally dusting off my hands. Business taken care of.

“Ha-haaaaa,” a hoarse voice cackled.

I gasped, almost choking on my apple. The Ghost hadn’t moved—nor did he sound like a gravelly old geezer. My attention snapped across the room and halted on two faint spots of red light. Heart skittering under my ribs, I minced toward the cabinet.

On the shelf was a round shape, pale in the darkness, with twin lights glowing in it. I crept closer—and realized what it was.

“Red-haired vixen.” An old, yellowed human skull sat on the shelf, faint crimson light emanating from its empty eye sockets. The exposed teeth seemed to grin at me as gruff words echoed from the unmoving jaw. “I am entertained! How long I’ve waited for the pale witch to choke on her wanton fantasies.”

“You … what?” I muttered, my brain stuck on a loop of, “The skull is talking, the skull is talking.” Why the hell did the Ghost have a skull in his room, let alone a talking one?

“The pale witch will weep tonight, knowing another woman warms his bed.” A vicious snicker. “How long she has dreamed of being in your place.”

“Uhhh … maybe you didn’t notice while you were creeping on us, but all we did was sleep.”

“But you will,” the skull leered. “You are female. You can’t control your passion. You can’t contain your lustful drives. All females are the same, compelled by their—”

“Yeah, okay, got it.”

“The pale witch possesses the same salacious perversion, though the druid has foolishly ignored her advances. He denies his natural—”

“Whoa, okay, that’s enough of that.” I rolled my eyes. “Does the word ‘boundaries’ mean anything to you?”

A dismissive sniff. “What boundary could possibly fall upon a being such as my—”

“Never mind.” Sarcasm apparently didn’t work on chauvinistic talking skulls. “You can shut up now.”

The red glow in its eye sockets blazed. “You dare speak so boldly to me, deviant wench? I am the most feared of the Drangfar Lords who once ruled the—what are you doing?”

I stooped to pick up an empty cardboard box. As I turned it over, I spotted a rune circle drawn on its side. Hmm, interesting. Whatever the box was, it was nicely skull-sized.

“Lay that down, wench! Do not dare so much as consider—”

I set the upside-down box over the skull, and its voice cut off with surprising abruptness. Giving the rune circle another appraising glance, I stepped back, nodded sharply, then returned to the kitchenette to throw out my apple core and wash my hands. Stifling a yawn, I returned to the bed and pondered the sleeping druid.

Lethargy permeated my body, too intense to be natural—a lingering side-effect of the dragon blood. I sure as hell wasn’t going downstairs after the confrontation with Morgan, so that left one option.

With a little smile to myself, I crawled into the bed and scooted under the blanket. Warmth suffused me and I wiggled closer to the Ghost. Damn, I hadn’t realized how chilly the room was. Since I’d already thrown personal space out the window when I forced myself into his shower, I tucked my cold feet against his legs.

He inhaled sharply, then pushed his face into the pillow with an annoyed grunt. Oh? Not as deeply asleep as I’d thought.

Propping myself up with one elbow, I poked him in the shoulder. “Hey.” Another poke. “Hey, druid.”

He grumbled wordlessly.

“The talking skull wouldn’t shut up, so I put a box over it. Is that okay?” I gave him a harder poke. “Are you listening?”

With a deep, waking inhale, he half turned, flattening me with his shoulder. He squinted blearily. “Wha …?”

“I put a box on the nasty skull. That a problem?”

He frowned, then rolled back onto his side and burrowed into the blankets.

“Hey! Come on, Ghost. Just answer. Is it bad I did that?”

“That’s what the box is for,” he rumbled, the pillow muffling his voice. “And don’t call me that.”

“Don’t call you what?”

“Ghost.” The word came out slurred, his voice dropping into sleep again. “Hate that name.”

“What should I call you then?” If he said “master,” I’d punch him.

Instead, he answered in a sleepy mumble almost too quiet to hear. “Zak.”

My eyes widened. “Zak?”

“Mm.” His shoulders shifted in a deep breath and his body relaxed. I waited a minute, but he was gone.

I stared down at his profile, my heart somersaulting. First I’d seen the infamous Ghost’s face, and now I’d learned his name. For someone who claimed not to trust me, he was letting me dangerously close—and with each exposed secret, the odds he’d ever let me leave dwindled closer to zero.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The sound of running water dragged me from a deep, peaceful slumber. Cracking my eyes open, I found late morning sunlight streaming through the gaps in the drapes. Man, I hadn’t slept this much since I was a teenager. I yawned widely and rolled onto my stomach, burying my face in the pillow.

The water shut off, then the bathroom door clacked. Quiet footsteps crossed to the bed, then the blankets lifted off me. Cold air rushed across my back. I didn’t move as the bed dipped and Zak climbed over me to his spot. Settling in, he pulled the blankets over us, making sure I was covered. Aw, that was nice.

Then he yanked the pillow out from under me. My face hit the mattress.

I shot up onto my elbows. “Hey!”

He fluffed the pillow and laid his head back. “It’s mine. You’re freeloading in my bed, remember?”

“You could still share.”

Tired green eyes slid across my face, then he nudged the pillow a few inches to one side, freeing up a corner barely wide enough to fit my head on. If he thought I’d be too shy to put my face that close to his, he’d learned nothing from the shower incident.

I skooched right up against his side, dropped my cheek onto the pillow, then blew in his ear.

He jerked his head away, exposing more pillow, and I squished onto it with a triumphant grin. Grumbling, he rolled onto his side, putting his back to me. I wiggled closer and blew on his neck, just to annoy him. His shoulders twitched.

“Would you grow up?” he grouched.

“Make me,” I retorted maturely. “You brought this on yourself, Zachy.”

He jerked upright, pulling the blankets off my torso. His alarmed gaze flashed over me. “Shit.”

I blinked up at him, distracted by the view of his mostly naked drool-worthiness. “What?”

A pained look crossed his face and he muttered, “I’d hoped that was a dream.”

“A dream?” As I clued in, a wicked smile bloomed across my lips. “Oh, you mean you thought you dreamed that you told me your name? Ha! Hate to burst your bubble, Zachary.”

He sighed heavily. “Not Zachary.”

“No?”

“Zakariya.”

“Oh. That’s a nice name.”

Rubbing a hand over his face, he slumped back. “Great. I should just feed you to the vargs and be done with it.”

“Umm. Maybe you could not?” I poked him lightly in the side. “What if I promise not to tell anyone?”

“You seem like the blabbermouth type to me.”

“Am not! I’m an expert secret keeper.” I poked him again to emphasize my point.

He grabbed my hand. “Stop that.”

I tugged on my hand but he didn’t release it. “Since I’m in on all your secrets anyway, there’s something I’d really like to know.”

Wariness skittered across his features. “What’s that?”

“What the hell kind of cult are you running here?”

His caution morphed into disbelieving affront. “What kind of cult? Are you serious?”

“You live on a farm with a bunch of runaway teen mythics who worship the ground you walk on. What else am I supposed to think?”

“I live here because I’m a druid. Most fae don’t approach cities. As for the kids, I have no control over what they think. Morgan and Terrance take care of them, not me. I’m busy with other things.”

“Things like … selling poisons to darkfae?” I didn’t suppress my judgmental tone.

“Sometimes.” His green eyes seared me. “The difference between wyldfae and darkfae is ambiguous and always changing. Besides, a fae who wants a poison will get its hands on that poison whether I transmute it or not. But they pay me well in magic for making it easy.”

I studied him curiously. No dissembling, no shame. He didn’t care if I thought he was immoral. He gave zero shits about whether I considered him an evil bastard. But I’d seen evidence that there were fae he refused to deal with, and judging by his interaction with the dragons, he was known as a healer as well as a poison-maker.

“Okay, but why the runaways?”

“It …” He grimaced. “It just happened. I didn’t plan things that way, but it works for me. I pick up mythics with nowhere to go and give them a home for a few months or years. In return, they help out on the farm, and when they’re ready, they move on.”

“Why are they never heard from again? Why did you tell me I would never return if I went with you?”

“To make sure you were dead serious about coming. I’m not wasting my time carting around teenagers who want to run back to mommy and daddy once their sense of adventure wears off.” He twitched one shoulder. “The others are never seen again because they don’t want to return to their old lives. Morgan and Terrance help them set up new identities, relocate to new places, stuff like that.”

A new life. That’s what he offered, and the mythics who left this farm went on to something new and different, never returning to reveal they were healthy and far happier than before they’d disappeared. And since he never revealed his name or face to anyone, they didn’t know they were former abductees of the infamous Ghost.

“Why all the secrecy?” I asked softly. “Doesn’t it bother you that you’re seen as a child-abductor and murderer?”

“My reputation is a form of protection in itself.” He lifted my hand, his warm grip tightening ominously. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Victoria. I earned that reputation.”

“Tori.”

“Huh?”

“I prefer Tori to Victoria.” I tugged my hand free, pillowed my cheek on my arm, and smiled at him. “One more question. How come you’re all fine with me hanging out in your room while you’re fast asleep? I totally could have killed you and made my escape.”

Amusement pulled at his lips. He didn’t smile but his mouth and jaw softened. “You’re a human. What could you possibly have done to hurt me?”

“Seriously?” I scowled. “This room is full of weapons. I could’ve stabbed you right through your black heart.”

“Hmm. You think so?” He canted his head toward the sitting area. In a nook behind the sofa, a huge standing perch was almost invisible in the shadows—as was the giant black eagle, its jewel-bright emerald eyes fixed on me.

Adrenaline shot through my veins. “Oh. Hi there, Lallakai.”

The fae’s raptor glare didn’t shift. How long had the bird been here, watching over her druid?

“What’s with the skull?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

“Cursed fae. He’s occasionally useful, but mostly just annoying.”

“He’s also a complete pig. Did you curse him?”

He snorted. “I don’t have that kind of power. I found him on the black market and bought him so some stupid sorcerer didn’t break the seal and loose a bloodthirsty fae lord in the middle of a city.”

Remembering what Kai had said about the Ghost buying up nasty Arcana magic, I reevaluated the cluttered room. “How much of this stuff did you buy off the black market just so no one else could get their hands on it?”

He stretched his legs out, eyes closing. “Half, maybe. Some of it I trade to fae, since they usually take it far away from humans, and some is just waiting until I have time to destroy it.”

“Huh. You know, Zak, I don’t think you’re as bad as you think you are.”

His eyes opened, sunlight gleaming across his green irises. “I told you not to get the wrong idea.”

“Oh, sorry. What I meant to say was you’re an evil bastard and I can’t wait to see you burnt at the stake for your evil crimes of evil.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Kill me? That’s what an evil rogue would do.” I thumped a hand against my chest. “Go on. Stab me dead.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I like that shirt.”

I eyed my borrowed black t-shirt, then hopped off the bed and stretched. “I’m so done sleeping.”

“Great. You can leave now.”

As he sprawled out over my half of the bed, I cast a mocking look over my shoulder. “You sure you want to set me loose already, Zak?” His expression darkened and fear skittered down my spine. I flapped one hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. I don’t want you confining anyone else to permanent imprisonment on your ranch.”

Leaving him in bed, I wandered over to the workshop side of the room. The tables were piled with jars, bottles, vials, herbs, artifacts, weapons, crumbling scrolls, thick leather-bound books, and strange tools. I paused to examine three shimmering white feathers, then moved down the table to an ivory horn with a spiral pattern.

I pointed. “That isn’t what I think it is, is it?”

Without sitting up, he craned his head to see what I’d found. “Unicorn horn.”

“Unicorns are real?” It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.

“They’re a type of fae, like dragons.”

I stretched my hand out but didn’t touch it. “Does … does taking its horn kill the unicorn?”

“Yes.”

“Did you do it?”

“No.”

I remembered the rigid fury in his face as he’d pulled the harpoon out of the young dragon’s side, and his growled promise to deal with the culprits. Something told me the unicorn hunter hadn’t fared any better than the dragon hunters would.

Continuing down the table, I passed a sinister black mask, then leaned over to examine a stack of books with gleaming text on the spines in a language I couldn’t read. Beneath the pile was a box, one exposed corner revealing a glimpse of something shiny.

Rustling blankets drew my attention to the bed as Zak swung his legs off. He sat on the mattress, rubbing his face with both hands, the cleansing crystal hanging from his neck. When he stood, I hastily returned to my perusal of his collection before I started perusing his physique. Hot damn.

He disappeared through the door beside the bathroom—a closet, I was assuming. I minced over to the cabinet, surveyed the magical skull-silencing box, then lifted it.

“—black-faced gadabout with the wit of a headless chicken—”

I slammed the box back over the skull’s snarling tirade. Counting to ten in my head, I lifted the box a second time. Silence.

“Don’t be a rude old geezer and I’ll leave the box off.” I held it out threateningly. “Deal?”

The skull’s red eyes glared balefully at me. Taking that as an agreement, I set the box aside. The closet door opened and Zak walked out, halfway through pulling a dark gray t-shirt over his head. I watched wistfully as the fabric fell over his beautiful abs. I should’ve snuck a feel while he was sleeping.

See? I’m a bad person too.

He fed a belt through the loops of his dark jeans. “Morgan and Terrance will have noticed you’re missing, so there’s probably no way to hide that you …” His eyes narrowed. “What’s with that look?”

“Um.” I sidled along the table, avoiding his gaze. “Morgan came by in the middle of the night. She was hammering on the door so I … went to see what the big fuss was.”

Huffing in exasperation, he joined me at the table and straightened a stack of ancient papers. “What was the fuss about?”

“Oddly, she never said.”

“Her breast heaved with chagrinned denial,” the skull cackled, and I jumped at the sudden noise. “Pale cheeks flushing as her womanhood swelled with furious—”

Zak rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Harry.”

“Do not address me so!” the skull barked. “You are naught but a crawling worm cherishing the dregs of power cast upon him by beings far superior than—”

Zak took a threatening step toward the cabinet and the skull quieted. He folded his arms. “Foul old spirit.”

“His name is Harry?” I asked bemusedly.

“A nickname.” A mean smirk flashed over Zak’s lips. “He hates it.”

I laughed and leaned against the table, reassessing the druid with interest. “So you do have a sense of humor.”

“Not at all.”

Snorting, I poked him playfully in the chest. “Liar. You totally—”

Loud knocking on the door cut through my sentence and I jerked off the table with excessive force—triggering a chain reaction of klutziness.

The whole table jostled and the stack of books tumbled over. I whirled around, grabbing for the books, and accidentally knocked a heavy tome into the box with the shiny blue object, nestled in crumpled packing paper. The box tipped over and the object—a glossy orb in shades of aquamarine and fuchsia—bounced across the tabletop.

I lunged to grab it—and so did Zak. I caught it, crashing into him at the same time. He grabbed me around the waist before I fell.

And, of course, that was the exact moment the door opened.

Morgan hung in the threshold, her mouth gaping open. Zak dropped his arms and I stepped away from him, holding the orb in both hands. Since she appeared offended instead of shocked, I assumed she’d seen his face before.

“I heard crashing—” she began.

“What do you want, Morgan?” Even irritated, Zak’s husky rumble was unfairly sexy.

“I—I don’t think we should discuss the matter in front of—”

“Just say it.”

She inhaled angrily. “Nadine left us.”

Zak stiffened. “What?”

“She ran into someone she knew—an old neighbor. They stopped at a coffee shop to catch up and the woman asked Nadine to live with her.” Morgan’s voice softened. “I thought Nadine enjoyed it here, but I guess …”

A long silence. My lungs felt like lead in my chest.

“Is that everything?” Zak asked flatly.

Morgan’s gaze flicked to me. “Yes, but—”

“Thank you. I’ll be down later.”

“Y-yes.” With a final glare at me, she stepped back and shut the door.

I stared at nothing. “Nadine … left?”

“It would seem so.”

I looked down at the orb. Roughly round, with odd ridges and lines, it glistened in blues and pinks. The smooth texture felt oddly warm in my hands. “What is this?”

“It’s a fae.” He straightened his shirt. “In a dormant form, I think. I haven’t had time to figure out what’s wrong with it.”

Not really thinking about what I was doing, I hugged the orb to my chest. Nadine had left. As reality sunk in, a bitter taste welled in my throat and I had to choke back a nasty laugh. I was such an idiot. I’d surrendered to the Ghost to save Nadine, and she’d rescued herself through pure chance.

She’d never been trapped in the Ghost’s clutches, but now I was. The irony hurt.

“Tori, did you tell Nadine anything about me?” Zak asked. “I talked to her after the fae encounter in the woods, but if she connects me with the Ghost …”

Alarm rippled through me. I had warned Nadine about his reputation, but in the vaguest terms.

“No,” I lied. “All I ever said was you’re a bad person.”

“How complimentary.” His dry response was distracted, his attention drifting around the room without seeing it. I said nothing, my gut twisting into knots. Nadine had ditched me, but she was safe. She’d talked fondly about her neighbor, and I hoped she would be happy.

But why did my stomach hurt? And why was Zak’s forehead creased with worry?

“Zak, the town they went to … is it a tourist destination or something?”

“Not in the slightest. I assume you’re wondering the same thing as me—how her neighbor was in that town at the exact right moment to meet Nadine.”

“Did Nadine tell you why she ran away from home—the envelope and stuff?”

He nodded. “I looked into it. I couldn’t find anything on the people who raised her. They seem entirely human. The Emrys’ bloodline, however, is famous overseas for producing talented sorcerers going back generations. Stephen Emrys was the guild master of the largest, most influential sorcery guild in the UK.”

“Someone killed him and his wife, then kidnapped Nadine and … what?” My forehead crinkled. “Flew her across the ocean just to dump her in the adoption system?”

“The kidnappers may have run afoul of law enforcement and lost track of her.” He shook his head. “I’d planned to investigate her adoptive parents more, but since no one could have found her here, I thought I had lots of time.”

“No one could find her here, but now that she’s back with her neighbor? How long until her parents find out?” I realized I was squeezing the fae orb and loosened my grip. “Nadine’s smart. She should have realized going with her neighbor wasn’t safe.”

His frown deepened. “She never mentioned a neighbor to me.”

“She talked about her a bit yesterday. Some old Russian lady named … Varvara Niko-something.”

“Ahh!” The cackling voice echoed from Harry the skull. “Would you be speaking of Varvara Nikolaev?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” I stared at Harry’s glowing red eyes. “How do you know her name?”

“Varvara Nikolaev,” Harry croaked reverently. “A woman of truly divine stature and utterly demonic cunning. A fine female specimen and, despite her inherent weaknesses as a creature of the fairer sex, a most chilling sorceress.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“A sorceress?” I repeated blankly.

“A sorceress?” Zak snarled, stalking toward the skull. “How do you know that?”

“Before your contumelious purchase of my person, I passed through the possession of many exquisitely gifted humans who truly excelled in the darkest arts—true masters, whereas you are a soft, sympathetic boor with no sense of—”

Zak grabbed the top of the skull, knuckles turning white as he squeezed it. “Get to the point or I’ll bury you in the deepest cave I can find.”

Harry hissed furiously. “For several most pleasant months, I enjoyed a sojourn from disrespect and defiance in Varvara Nikolaev’s pristine possession. Sadly, she chose to sell my sealed form, though I would have—”

“Varvara is a dark arts sorceress?” I interrupted. “Are you sure?”

“Assuming you speak not of a female possessing the same unlikely appellation, then indeed there can be no question. Varvara Nikolaev has immersed her very being in the most depraved magic of which I have rarely relished myself. She is truly a—”

Zak slammed the box over the skull, his eyes blazing.

“Varvara is the one who killed Nadine’s real parents.” My voice grated from my tight throat. “It’s the only explanation. She brought Nadine here, and stayed close while … while humans raised her? I don’t understand.”

“A layer of insulation,” he growled. “In case Varvara was discovered, she could disappear without anyone noticing Nadine’s existence. With a different name and ignorant human parents, Nadine was invisible to the MPD.”

“But … why? Why would Varvara do any of this?”

The muscles in his arms bulged as he clenched his fists. “She wants an apprentice. It’s largely fallen out of practice, but it used to be common for dark-arts masters to abduct the young children of their staunchest rivals. Turning an enemy’s offspring into your devoted apprentice and future legacy was once the ultimate triumph for an aging dark sorcerer.”

“That’s … sick. Really, really sick.” I leaned weakly against the table, still holding the fae orb. “So you think Nadine’s real parents were Varvara’s enemies?”

“It’s also possible she targeted them because they opposed the dark arts in general.”

I nodded, realizing it didn’t matter why Varvara had gone after Nadine’s parents. What mattered was that she’d killed them, brought Nadine here, and fostered her with human pawns while Varvara stayed close, cultivating a friendship with Nadine so that …

“Oh,” I gasped.

“What?”

“The envelope. All that information about who Nadine really is. Varvara must have sent it to her, planning to show up shortly after. Nadine would’ve given herself over to Varvara, the only adult she trusted—except Nadine ran away instead.”

“That makes sense,” Zak agreed grimly. “She wanted to win Nadine’s absolute trust and loyalty before beginning her training. Nadine would have seen Varvara as her savior, never knowing she had killed her real parents.”

“She arranged it so Nadine would willingly depend on her. It was a fifteen-year con.” Before I accidentally crushed the fae orb, I set it back in its box. “And now she has Nadine, just like she wanted.”

“But did Nadine go willingly?” Zak paced the length of the table and back. “Nadine knows a human can’t protect her from whoever killed her parents, so why would she go with Varvara, believing her to be human?”

I pressed my hands against my thighs, momentarily startled by the feel of my own skin. Right. I wasn’t wearing pants. “Nadine loves it here. I don’t think she went with Varvara of her own free will.”

“That’s my suspicion as well.”

“Zak.” I stepped toward him. “We have to save her.”

His jaw flexed. “Varvara was in the town where Morgan and Terrance take the kids every month. She knew where they’d be.” He turned away. “I need to find out more about her and how she found me before I can act.”

“What?” Pushing off the table, I swung in front of him. “You want to wait? That sorceress has Nadine. She’s had her for—for an entire night.” Because Morgan hadn’t told me Nadine was gone when she’d come up earlier. “We can’t leave her with that woman!”

“I can’t go up against Varvara without knowing what I’m fighting.”

“But you’re the most powerful mythic I’ve ever seen! Surely you can—”

“I have other lives to protect!” He glared down at me, our faces a foot apart. “If I go up against her and die, everyone here will die when my defenses on the valley fail.” He stepped closer, forcing me back. “If I go up against her and fail to kill her, she’ll come after me—and possibly rally a force of dark sorcerers against me. I don’t know how she found out where I am or what else she knows. I can’t risk ten lives to save one.”

“But Nadine—” I bit off my protest. “How long before you can go after them?”

“Days? Weeks?” He raked his hand through his hair. “It depends on how difficult it is to find information on Varvara.”

With weeks to gain a head start, Varvara could vanish with Nadine. She’d already done it once when she’d kidnapped Nadine as a baby, and she’d had an entire sorcery guild hunting her.

I drew myself up. “Let me go, then.”

“What?”

“Let me leave! Let me find Nadine!”

“You? You can’t—”

“I’m only here because of Nadine!” I yelled, startling him into taking a step back. “I let you take me so I could save Nadine!”

Something dark and dangerous slid across his face. “What are you talking about?”

I clenched my hands and plunged in. “Her parents—the fake ones, but they still care about her—came to the guild I work at and—”

“Guild?”

“—and we took on the case—well, not we—the actual guild members did—but I helped because—”

“You work for a guild?” His low, vicious snarl didn’t sound human. “There’s no record of your employment at a guild!”

“I, uh, haven’t quite … finished the paperwork … yet.”

As I spoke, I retreated on trembling legs. He advanced on me, menace rolling off him in waves. My pulse raced. I slid my hand toward my back pocket—but I didn’t have a pocket. My pants were on the floor in his bathroom, my Queen of Spades card out of reach.

“Calm down, Zak,” I said weakly. “I’m not a mythic. Even if I planned to, which I don’t, I have no idea how to report something to the MPD. I won’t say a word about you to my guild. All I care about is saving Nadine.”

My back hit a rack of crystals. He towered over me, green eyes hard as steel and burning with fury. I gulped, fighting my terror. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him the truth. He was taking it worse than I’d expected. What a drama queen.

Pushing my shoulders back, I glowered at him. “Quit looming over me! Either make a move or back the hell up.”

A startled twitch of his eyebrows revealed I’d gotten his attention. His fury faltered. “Make a move?”

Uh. Oops. Bad choice of words. “That’s … not …”

I forgot what I’d been about to say as his gaze flicked across my face, then back to my eyes—and my disobedient stare jumped to his mouth, his lips perfectly kissable despite the terse lines at their corners.

He shifted closer, one arm reaching past me to brace against the shelf, rattling the crystals hanging from it. With nowhere to retreat, I pressed backward into the rack. He was blocking any escape, too close, his broad shoulders filling my vision.

The crystals rattled again as he leaned down, our faces inches apart. I wanted to run away. I wanted to close my eyes and tilt my face up in surrender. Was he really going to kiss me now? I could already imagine the feel of his mouth. Aggressive and dominant. All dark, fierce passion. The thought alone left me breathless.

But when I looked into his eyes, I didn’t see passion. I saw anger. And it took me a moment too long to realize he wasn’t leaning in to kiss me.

A cold crystal pressed against my bare arm.

“Ori decidas,” he hissed.

Weakness flooded my body. My legs collapsed and he swept me up before I crumpled. I hung limply in his hold, unable to do more than twitch helplessly.

“Bastard!” I screamed, relieved to discover my lungs still worked. “What the hell are you doing?”

He dropped me on the bed. I felt a tug on my arm as he knotted the leather tie around my wrist, keeping the spelled crystal against my skin, and I could do nothing to stop him. My body wouldn’t move, my limbs numb and heavy.

I seethed, using anger to combat the squirming panic in my gut. How stupid was I? He’d misled me with nothing more than a smoldering stare while sneaking a spell off the rack behind me—and I’d fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

Returning to the crystals, Zak surveyed his collection. A rippling movement from the corner stole my attention, and my next insult died on my tongue as the huge black eagle unfurled her wings. The fae sprang off the perch and flew across the room, her feathers sweeping wide as she reached Zak’s back.

Instead of landing on him, the fae’s phantom body sank into his. Her wings settled across his shoulders and arms, darkening into bold tattoos.

Selecting an acid-green crystal, he sat on the edge of the bed and dangled the stone above my face, his emerald eyes eerily bright with the power of the fae inside him.

I wheezed pathetically, my arms and legs twitching.

“I think it’s time,” he said quietly, dark tattoos edging his jaw and giving his face a malevolent cast, “for you to tell me everything. And this spell will ensure you’re properly forthcoming.”

All I could do was glare in furious terror as he pressed the crystal against my throat and uttered the incantation.

I was a gullible idiot, and I had no excuse. Give me a mysterious, gorgeous, so-powerful-it-was-arousing mythic with a fierce sense of justice and a soft spot for dragon babies, and I was happy to jump to ridiculous conclusions. I’d convinced myself he was a not-so-bad guy who was only a danger to really bad guys.

In actuality, he was a not-so-bad guy who was a danger to anyone he considered a threat. And I’d made myself into a nice big threat not only to him, but to everyone he protected. And he was having none of it.

I told him everything.

My whole life story, and then some, spilled out of my mouth, prompted by his sharp questions. I couldn’t stop myself. The crystal artifact resting on my throat pulsed with a strange heat, and the urge to answer his questions was irresistible. I wanted to tell him everything, even as a small part of my brain screamed at me to stop.

He watched me blather with merciless eyes. I was his enemy now.

He extracted the tale of how I’d come to work at the Crow and Hammer, and I blurted all sorts of private thoughts he had no business knowing. Like how the guild felt akin to home, and how I was terrified of losing my place there once my paperwork went through. Like my confusing feelings for Aaron and the way my hardcore crush on him was being eroded by doubts. Like my secret fears about Ezra—the repressed savagery I’d glimpsed in him, the hints of an inner darkness I didn’t understand.

Zak questioned me thoroughly about our plans for capturing him and rescuing Nadine, then backtracked to my past—asking questions about my family. About my father. About things I never talked about. Things I’d buried deep. But the spell forced me to answer, to tear through my mental barricades and unleash the long-ago memories on my psyche.

Finally, Zak stopped asking questions. With the spell still tied to my arm, I lay motionless, my breath hitching as I choked back tears. I’d cried in front of him, and the shame burned my soul.

He stared thoughtfully across the room, unaffected by my emotional state. Cold-hearted bastard.

“I need to save Nadine,” I said hoarsely. “Since you aren’t kidnapping anyone, I don’t care what you do. I would’ve promised to never speak about your secrets, and I would’ve kept my word.”

He glanced at my throat where the artifact pulsed against my skin. “I can’t accept that promise.”

“Not everyone is a liar,” I spat. “If you can’t trust me, then use a spell or something. I’ll swear whatever magical oaths you want, just let me go so I can help Nadine!”

Plus, I needed to leave before he decided to kill me, but I didn’t say that. The circumstances under which he’d let me live on his ranch as one of his wards were long gone.

“You would swear a magical oath?” His gaze shifted over my face. “Even a black-magic one?”

“Yes.”

“Even if breaking the oath meant death?”

“Yes.” Wasn’t like my chances of survival were all that great anyway.

He considered me for several long moments. “If you submit to a binding oath, I’ll let you go. You will never speak about me for as long as you live, and if you so much as utter a word, you’ll die—and it will be a gruesome death.”

Cold chilled my limbs, but I gathered my determination. “I only need to be able to talk about Nadine.”

Nodding, he lifted the green crystal off my throat, then pulled the other one—a fat ruby red crystal—off my arm. As soon as it broke contact with my skin, strength flooded into my limbs. I resisted the urge to curl up in a defensive ball and instead shoved myself upright.

Standing, Zak crossed to a table and dropped the crystals on the corner before picking up a thick leather tome.

Swallowing back the sick taste in my mouth, I crawled off the bed. The door wasn’t far, but there was no point in running. Even if I made it downstairs before he stopped me—which I doubted I could manage—where would I go? I was still trapped in the valley.

He perused one page after another, and I minced close enough to peer at the book’s contents. Complex transmutation circles, marked with notations and instructions in tiny text, filled every page.

“Don’t know this one by heart?” I muttered sarcastically.

“I’ve never had the occasion to use it before.”

“What if you mess it up?”

“I imagine you’ll die.”

My stomach dropped. As I waited silently, he studied the instructions in the grimoire, then collected supplies from around the room. Uncovering a stick of chalk, he strode to the room’s open center, where a perfect white circle had been painted on the floor. With confident strokes, he marked runes in geometric arrangements around the perimeter and drew crisscrossing lines through the center.

Nerves tightened my gut as he arranged several bottles with different liquids around the circle and added bundles of herbs. Then he placed a bowl with incense sticks at the northern point and lit them with a lighter. Smoke curled toward the ceiling.

As he crossed the room and opened a low cupboard, my gaze jumped to the table. The crimson and green crystals lay where he’d left them. Checking that his head was still in the cupboard, I swiped the crystals off the table and shoved them into my bra. I really needed to put pants on.

I was just tugging my shirt—er, his shirt—straight when he emerged with a white bowl in his hand.

“Sit in the center of the circle,” he ordered.

Reluctantly, I stepped into the white ring. Careful not to touch any of the lines, I moved to the center and sat cross-legged. He passed me the bowl, added a splash of clear liquid from a small flask, then shifted to a spot behind me.

“Are you ready?”

Clutching the bowl, I nodded.

He began the incantation, incomprehensible words flowing in his deep, husky voice. The white lines and runes glowed eerily, and shivering power trickled through me. Colored mist rose in strange patterns from the various bottles and smoke puffed from the dried herbs.

Zak paused his incantation and switched to English. “Repeat after me: I swear on my life I will not communicate in any way anything I saw, heard, learned, or guessed about the druid called the Ghost since waking up in this valley.”

I repeated the words, my voice quavering.

“I will not speak of, imply, intimate, or reveal the existence of this oath or the spell that binds me to it.”

Fighting the sick fear in my stomach, I repeated that too.

“If I break this oath, willingly, accidentally, or through coercion, I forfeit my life.”

Once I’d spoken the final words, he uttered the last phrase of the incantation. Light flashed and the swirling colored smoke coiled into a single plume that sank into the bowl I held. The porcelain heated in my hands, then violet light burst from within it.

Zak strode around the circle to stand in front of me. “Drink the potion to seal the binding.”

A small amount of purple liquid filled the bowl. Hands shaking, I lifted the edge to my lips and sipped. Sweetness bloomed across my tongue, taking me by surprise. Sure didn’t taste like a gruesome black-magic binding potion.

I poured the liquid into my mouth and swallowed hastily. Zak checked I’d finished it, then took the bowl.

“It’s done. Do not forget, Tori. If you speak about me or this place even by accident, that’s it for you.” His cold eyes scoured me. “And don’t try to trick your way around the oath. It won’t work.”

I nodded numbly. “Can I leave now?”

“Yes.”

Peering around the room, I mumbled, “How? How do I get home?”

“If you want to help Nadine, I suppose you should return immediately.” He headed for the door. “Let’s go.”

I scrambled up, flinching as the hidden crystals in my bra dug into my skin. Before following him, I darted into the bathroom and retrieved my Queen of Spades card from the pocket of my blood-stained jeans. It had survived without a spot on it.

Zak waited for me by the door. He’d put on a black sweater, the hood drawn up and his face in shadow.

He pushed the door open. “Get some real clothes on. I’ll meet you outside.”

Some of my usual defiance awoke at his commanding tone, and I sneered as I started down the stairs. After shutting the door, he followed me to the bottom, then headed straight for the front porch. I jogged down the hall to the room I shared with the other girls.

Afternoon sunlight beamed through the window, and I puffed a relieved sigh to discover the bunk beds empty. Yanking open the third dresser drawer, I pulled out my original thrift-store outfit. Stripping off Zak’s shirt, I put mine on, then shimmied into the jeans. The Queen of Spades went in one pocket and the crystals went in another. It took an annoying fifteen seconds to stuff the long leather ties out of sight.

Only when I reached the front entryway did I realize my shoes were still upstairs in his bathroom—and covered in dragon blood. Only two pairs of shoes sat in the entryway, both way too small for me. I walked outside barefoot.

A hundred yards away, Zak leaned against the pasture fence, waiting. Panting from the jog, I joined him, the grass cool but prickly under my feet.

“Well?” I demanded. “Take me back.”

“I’m not taking you home. I’m sending you home. Just wait.”

“Sending me? What does that mean?”

His hood twitched as he moved his head, and I gritted my teeth. I wanted to see his face. I wanted to read those green eyes to determine how nasty he was feeling toward me. My neck prickled and I spotted various mythics watching us: Morgan and Miesha in the garden; Omar and Kayden standing by the open barn doors; and Terrance, Jasper, and Shanice walking back from the orchard.

“By the way, Tori.” A shiver ran down my spine at the sweet malice in Zak’s voice. “The interrogation spell you stole is a dark arts artifact. Don’t use it in front of anyone with a moral conscience.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

“It lasts twenty minutes and takes a day to recharge. The fall spell lasts an hour and takes about eight hours to recharge. They need to be touching the target’s bare skin before they’re triggered.”

My hand went to my pocket where I’d stashed the crystals. “You … you’re letting me take them?”

“Do you remember the incantations?”

“Pretty sure I do.”

He studied me—at least, I thought he did—then patted his pockets, searching. He pulled out a pen. “You’re going to forget them. Give me your hand.”

“I won’t forget.” Despite my protest, I extended my hand. Better safe than sorry, I supposed.

He took my wrist and wrote across my palm. Still holding my arm, he used the pen to push his hood back enough that sunlight hit his green eyes. “If you get Nadine back, I’ll take her. This time I’ll keep her safe.”

Looking into his eyes, I knew that though he was a threat to me, to Nadine he was a guardian. He would protect her.

“If that’s what she wants,” I murmured, “I’ll get her back to you.”

He nodded and glanced skyward. “He’s here.”

I squinted into the sun—and all hell broke loose.

The sunlight darkened. Animals squealed and bolted. Humans screamed. With the air shimmering and rippling around it, a monstrous dragon glided out of the clear blue sky. I reflexively grabbed Zak’s arm, my fingers digging into his sleeve as the super-sized reptile landed in front of us, its wings booming from the air pressure.

I gawked at its dark, sleek body lined with those swirling galaxy patterns. Its head, framed by elegantly curving horns, dipped down until the giant nose hovered at chest height, nostrils flaring.

Zak pried my hands off his arm. “Echo owes you a favor for helping treat his nephew. He’s agreed to take you home.”

“But—but—how did you—so fast?”

“I’m a druid,” he replied like that explained everything.

I fought the urge to touch the dragon’s muzzle, only a few feet in front of me. “His nephew? I thought he was the father.”

“No, Tempest is his sister.”

My brow furrowed. “Tempest and Echo?”

“If you call their names silly, he’ll probably eat you.”

“Their names are lovely. Very majestic.”

A quiet sound of amusement slipped from the shadows of his hood. “Their real names are unpronounceable with a human tongue. Those are approximate translations.”

My eyes narrowed. Was he making fun of me? Before I could complain, he took my elbow. “Ready?”

“Hold up!” I dug in my heels. “That’s a dragon. Is it safe for him to fly over a city when—”

“He’s a wyldfae, Tori.” Zak pushed me toward the huge beast. “Don’t underestimate him. Just picture where you want to go in your head, and he’ll get you there.”

“That—that’s it? Are you sure this will work?”

“Yes.” He stepped back. “Trust me.”

I didn’t trust him, except … maybe I did. Under specific circumstances only. He was a cold-hearted creep but also a surprisingly noble, baby-dragon-saving warrior. In other words, a big walking contradiction, and I had no clue how to feel about him.

The dragon stretched one enormous front foot out and gently wrapped its claws around me. I grabbed its scaled toes—fingers?—and held on tightly as the creature lifted me into the air. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shiiiit. I was being carried by a dragon and it took all my concentration not to hyperventilate.

Zak tipped his head back, sunlight catching on his face. Our eyes met.

The dragon’s wings opened with a boom. Echo leaped into the sky and my stomach stayed on the ground. I clung to the dragon’s foot as his wings propelled us upward. Zak shrank to a black dot by the line of the fence, and for a brief moment, I was hanging in the air a mile above the valley, staring down at the rolling green fields, wooden barn, and rustic cabin, bordered on all sides by forested mountain peaks.

Then the air rippled. Hot, electric magic rushed over me, and with a soft hiss, the world disappeared into shimmering distortions.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

My weightless stomach informed me I was falling. Or at least descending. Plunging to my death?

Wind whipped across my face and my vision blurred in and out, colors rippling all around me. The feeling of movement and the blurry swirls had been going on for a while, but I’d lost all sense of time. Only the dragon’s claws around my middle felt real. Scrunching my eyes shut, I focused as hard as I could on the Crow and Hammer. My bar. My guild.

Our movement slowed and I pried my eyes open. Everything was still rippling, but now I could make out boxy gray shapes dotted with green. Wait. That was a city. I was looking at a city!

Wings spread wide, Echo spiraled down. The closer we got, the more the weird ripples dissipated until I could make out the familiar skyscrapers, the long piers of the marina, the deep blue ocean. Afternoon traffic zoomed along the streets and pedestrians swarmed the sidewalk in ant-like droves.

How would all those people react to a dragon in the sky? Could they see us?

Echo drifted into another wide spiral, moving away from the skyscrapers as his head swung to one side then the other. With a quiet rumble, he pulled his wings in. We plummeted, hitting terminal velocity in seconds. I choked on a scream as he stretched his neck out, nose pointed into the dive. Buildings rushed toward us.

Way too close to imminent death, he snapped his wings open. My stomach kept falling at full speed as I felt like I was pulled upward. His wings shimmered, then his whole form blurred. The pressure of the dragon foot around my middle disappeared.

For a terrifying second, I was falling. Then something else closed tightly around me.

Arms?

Strong human arms held me around the waist as I floated toward the street below. Gasping soundlessly, I turned my head and met a pair of almost-human, midnight-blue eyes.

My bare feet lightly touched the ground, then the hands released me, sliding along my arm and gently grasping my fingers instead. A fae hovered beside me, dark wings arching out from a humanlike body. His face was beautifully androgynous, his eyes huge and bottomless, his skin like flawless porcelain. His black hair with shimmering streaks of blue and purple was pulled into a loose plait that hung past his waist.

“Echo?” I whispered.

The dragon’s wings, the dragon’s tail, the dragon’s claws—they adorned his new shape. Delicate horns poked out of his hair and his ears were sharply pointed. Draping garments more exotic than anything I’d ever seen clothed his lean body in shades of blue.

He smiled, revealing carnivorous teeth. “You are home?”

I shivered. His rolling, lilting accent didn’t hide the otherworldly quality of his voice. Dragging my stare away from him, I looked around. I was standing in the middle of a quiet street, and across from me was an unassuming three-story cube of a building, its black door beckoning. The Crow and Hammer. I was back.

Okay then. That had been way too easy.

“This seems too little,” Echo murmured, mirroring my thoughts and drawing my wide eyes back to his alien features. Human-ish, but obviously not human at the same time. “For the blood of my blood’s life, I will aid you again—but only once.”

“You … you will?”

Turning my palm up, he touched a clawed fingertip to my inner wrist. A dark blue rune the size of a quarter appeared on my skin, then faded to an almost invisible shadow.

“When you have need of me, touch this mark and speak my name. I will come.” With another disturbingly predatory smile, he drifted higher above the ground, lifting my hand with him. “Farewell, brazen one.”

His wings swept down, and with a rush of wind, he shot skyward. With my hand tingling in the absence of his strange touch, I craned my neck back, but the air was already rippling. As leaves fluttered back to the pavement, he vanished.

Examining the faint rune, I shook my head. It was hard to believe a wyldfae like him was related to the green twig-head faery in my new apartment. I frowned. Come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t my apartment. I’d been missing for two weeks. Who knew what had happened with my lease?

I tiptoed—literally—across the pavement and onto the sidewalk, careful not to tread on anything sharp. Downtown streets and bare feet did not mix well. Stepping into the shadowy entryway, I stared at the black door of the guild, the painted crow glaring in return.

With an oddly nervous twist in my belly, I pushed the door open.

Girard folded his arms. “You’re saying you can’t tell us anything about your capture or escape?”

With my lower lip caught between my teeth, I nodded, trying not to wilt under his critical assessment. Felix leaned against the desk beside the seated first officer, his expression equally grim.

We were sitting in Darius’s office, but the guild master wasn’t present. He was out of town—on my account. He’d gone to the Seattle MPD office to speak with a special investigator. Clara had already called him, and between bouts of hysterical weeping, she’d called Aaron and Kai too, who were out hunting for clues about my whereabouts. I wished I could go back downstairs and tell her again that I was fine. The poor woman had thought I was a goner and probably spent the last two weeks blaming herself for hiring me.

“Tori,” Girard said, drawing my attention back to the present. “If the Ghost has threatened you, or if you don’t feel secure revealing what happened, I assure you you’re safe now. You can speak freely.”

I pressed my lips together. I couldn’t reveal anything about Zak, his ranch hideout, or his collection of runaways. Nor could I reveal the existence of the binding oath that prevented me from talking about it. I had no idea what to tell Girard and Felix. I wasn’t even sure whether I could disagree with his statement about speaking freely.

“I’m safe now,” I agreed. “But Nadine isn’t. You know about Nadine, right? The girl we tried to rescue? She’s in danger.”

“She’s the Ghost’s prisoner?” Felix asked.

“Not anymore. A dark sorceress called Varvara Nikolaev abducted her.” Pressing my hands to my thighs, I gave them a brief rundown of Nadine’s past and Varvara’s involvement. I skipped over the details of how Varvara had snatched Nadine from the Ghost’s clutches and focused on how Varvara would soon whisk her new apprentice far from anyone’s reach. “We don’t have much time. We have to find her before they disappear.”

I wasn’t sure how I’d expected the two officers to respond to my explanation of the danger Nadine was facing, but I figured they would at least, you know, react. Instead, their expressions remained stonily ambiguous.

Girard cleared his throat. “That’s crucial information, and we’ll look at it more closely once we’ve discussed your abduction and escape.”

“But I can’t tell you about that stuff.” Frustration burned through me. “I’m back and that’s what’s important, right? We need to worry about Nadine.”

Girard and Felix exchanged looks.

“We’re beyond relieved that you’ve returned unharmed,” Felix said slowly, “but we still need to know what happened. Not only for your safety but for the safety of everyone at the guild.”

My gaze flicked between them as I realized what he meant. They didn’t trust me. They didn’t believe me. The scariest dark druid in the city had imprisoned me for two weeks, then out of nowhere I’d walked through the guild’s front door like nothing had happened. I’d refused to tell them anything—except a wild story about an evil sorceress they needed to fight.

Though I tried to hide my devastation, Girard was too observant. His face softened. “Sweetheart, we want to trust you, but without the whole story, we can’t know if the Ghost is setting an elaborate trap for us.”

“He’s not,” I whispered hoarsely, unsure if I wanted to scream or cry. Damn Zak and his stupid oath spell! If I lost Nadine because I couldn’t explain anything, I would kill the stupid druid myself.

“We need to know everything, Tori,” Felix murmured.

“I can’t.”

Girard and Felix exchanged looks again, and my hands clenched. Should I test the boundaries of the oath spell? If it was the only way—

The office door flew open and hit the wall with a bang. Aaron hung in the threshold, his copper-red hair a mess, stubble covering his jaw, and dark circles under his eyes. His stare fixed on me, then he swept into the room.

He dropped to his knees in front of my chair, his hot hands grasping my upper arms. “Tori, are you okay?”

For the first time since I’d walked into the park to meet the Ghost, I felt safe—and something close to hysteria swelled in my chest. The long days and even longer nights trapped in an unfamiliar place, helpless and unsure if I’d ever escape, piled on me until my shoulders trembled from the weight.

“I’m good.” My voice cracked but I managed to smile. “Not even traumatized, I promise.”

His gaze darted over my face like he didn’t believe me, then he pulled me half off the chair, arms wrapped around me and face pressed against my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Tori. We should never have involved you.”

I hung on the edge of my chair, clutching his shoulders for balance. Another hand touched my back. Kai crouched beside us, relief softening his dark eyes. He, unlike Aaron, had found the time and energy to shave, but otherwise he looked equally exhausted and unkempt.

Resting my cheek against Aaron’s shoulder, I closed my eyes, pretending they weren’t stinging with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, guys. I was stupid. I never should’ve gone with him.”

“Damn right,” Aaron muttered, loosening his hold. He sat back on his heels. “Let’s hear it.”

“Hear … what?”

“What happened! Where he took you, what you’ve been doing for the last two weeks, how you escaped.”

I scooted back onto my chair, unable to meet his anxious blue eyes. “I can’t tell you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I can’t say anything about him.”

Aaron glanced questioningly at Girard and Felix. When they said nothing, he shifted closer and gently massaged my arms. “Tori, he can’t hurt you anymore. You can tell us.”

Haha, no. Zak could kill me anywhere, anytime. All I had to do was let slip a single detail. “I can’t.”

A painfully awkward silence settled over the room. I stared at my lap, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Girard, Felix,” Kai said, his smooth voice startling me. “Tori has been through a lot. She needs rest and recuperation more than anything. I’d like to take her home with us.”

Felix folded his arms. “You know why we need answers, but I don’t want to force her to talk.”

Girard nodded. “Take her home, then. When she’s ready to discuss it, bring her in—or we can come see her if that’s easier. Until she’s comfortable talking, she needs to stay at your house—under your supervision.”

“Yes, sir,” Kai agreed.

Relieved they wouldn’t question me anymore, I sagged against Aaron. He put an arm around my shoulders.

“Go get some rest, Tori,” Felix said gently.

Aaron drew me out of the office and we headed down the stairs. A dozen guild members swarmed us on the main level, but Kai fended them off while Aaron ushered me out the door. As happy as I was to be back, I couldn’t handle another million questions about what had happened.

When I started tiptoeing again, Aaron stopped and frowned at my feet. “Where are your shoes?”

“I … lost them.”

He arched an eyebrow, then scooped me up and carried me around the building to the parking lot. Hanging in his arms, I was suddenly so exhausted all I wanted was to be home in PJs, wrapped in the fuzzy owl blanket Ezra had given me.

Kai jogged into the parking lot and took Aaron’s keys. After unlocking the car, he climbed into the back, and Aaron tipped me into the passenger’s seat before hurrying around the vehicle.

Buckling himself in, he started the engine, then peered at my face. “Hey Tori. Is it just me, or do you have a tan?”

I pressed my lips tightly together.

“If you spent this whole time on a beach, I’m gonna be ticked.”

“I wasn’t on a beach!”

A grin cracked his serious expression. He backed the car out of the parking lot and turned onto the street. The warm afternoon sun blazed into the vehicle, warming my face. Had it been sunny all week in the city too?

As we stopped at a red light, Kai leaned over the center console. “Tori, do we need to worry about the Ghost coming after you?”

I snorted. “Nope. He’s so done with me.”

The words were out of my mouth before I could think, and my eyes went wide in panic. But I didn’t keel over dead, so that must not have counted as revealing information.

Kai studied me as the car rolled into motion again. “Can you tell us anything about him?”

“I can’t.” I met his eyes as best I could at the weird angle. “But I swear it’s not a trick or a trap. I just can’t explain where I was. There are … special circumstances.”

“Hmm.” Kai sat back. “Okay.”

As he pulled out his phone, I blinked in confusion. “What are you doing?”

His thumbs sped across the screen. “Just texting Ezra with a heads-up so you don’t have to go through the same round of questions again.”

“But … don’t you …” I trailed off, not sure what question I was asking.

“You can’t talk about it,” Aaron murmured, his eyes on the road. “We get it. Secrets are a part of life for mythics. They keep us safe, even when it means hiding things from people we care about.”

“I’d tell you if I could,” I mumbled miserably.

“We know.” Kai stuck his phone back in his pocket. “Some secrets aren’t about trust, Tori.”

My eyes burned with tears and I blinked rapidly to clear them. Fingers curling against my thighs, I exhaled shakily. They understood. They realized I wasn’t withholding information because I didn’t trust them, but because I had no other choice.

“You know what really sucks though?” Aaron said abruptly.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m never going to find out how you lost your shoes, am I?” He threw his hands up. “How does a person lose their shoes? How did you make it back to the guild barefoot? It makes no sense!”

I slapped at his waving arm. “Hands on the wheel, Aaron!”

Grabbing the steering wheel again, he cast me a tortured look. “This is going to drive me insane, you know that, right?”

“How is it that you care more about how she lost her shoes than how she escaped a notorious rogue?” Kai asked dryly from the backseat. “Priorities, Aaron.”

Aaron flashed me a grin and I couldn’t help my smile. Damn, I’d missed them.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I didn’t know who was a bigger idiot. The three mages or my brother.

While I’d been missing, Aaron, Kai, and Ezra hadn’t wanted to involve the police. So Kai, genius that he was, hacked into my phone—which I’d left at the guild for our Ghost-capturing mission—and between the three of them, they convinced Justin via text messages that I was super busy with my new apartment and that’s why I wasn’t around.

Leaning against the counter in the bathroom, I scrolled through the messages, rolling my eyes so much I was getting dizzy. None of these texts sounded anything like me! In what twisted reality would I ever use cat emojis? The only thing more embarrassing than the impersonation attempt was the fact my brother hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.

I closed the message app and set my phone on the counter, then held my hand up. I could still feel Zak’s phantom grip as he’d written across my palm.

With the whole “catching a ride with a dragon fae” thing, I’d forgotten that he’d written on my hand. I hadn’t remembered until I was in the bathroom with a towel and an armful of clean clothes so I could shower while we waited for pizza to arrive.

Two incantations were scrawled across my palm in neat, masculine handwriting. And beneath them were ten digits. A phone number.

Zak must be serious about wanting to take Nadine back—so serious he’d given me a direct method of contacting him. I didn’t know how to feel about that. For starters, I’d thought he was too much of a hippy to have a phone. I should have searched his room while he was sleeping. If I’d found his phone, I could have called in the cavalry and saved myself a black-magic oath spell.

I saved his number in my contacts and made a note about the incantations. With a final glance at his handwriting on my palm, I turned on the faucet, grabbed the soap, and scrubbed until there was no sign that ink had ever touched my skin.

After showering, I dressed in my favorite PJ pants and a tank top. Did I wear a bra? Nope. Should I have put on a bra? Probably, but I wanted to be comfortable. The guys could just avert their eyes.

Conveniently, all my stuff was at their place. To support their bullshit story about how I was relishing in newfound brother-freedom at my apartment, they’d gone to Justin’s place while he was at work and picked up my four whole boxes of belongings. Using my keys. From my purse. Which I’d also left at the guild.

I was only slightly annoyed. They’d done their best to keep my regular life from falling apart while they tried to find me.

By the time I joined them, the pizza had arrived. If not for the irresistible allure of pepperoni and green peppers, I might have stopped to hug Ezra again. Hugging was sort of our thing, so I was free to throw myself into his arms whenever I wanted. Which I’d done, with enthusiasm and maybe a single tear of relief, the moment I’d walked through the front door.

While we ate—or I should say, while they nibbled pizza and I gorged myself, having eaten exactly one apple in the last twenty-four hours—they filled me in on their efforts to find me. Most of the guild had dropped everything to investigate the Ghost and where he might have taken me. Even Darius had tapped into his formidable resources as a guild master.

Despite that, none of them had made significant progress. If Zak hadn’t released me, I’d still be his prisoner—or dead.

Stuffed with cheese and delicious doughy crust, I waddled into the living room and collapsed in the middle of the sofa. Aaron sat beside me and Kai perched on the opposite sofa arm. Ezra wandered in last, eating a final slice.

Closing my eyes, I leaned against Aaron’s side. The evening sun cut across the south-facing window, filling the room with warm orange light. All I wanted to do was sit here with the guys. Listen to them talk. Play silly video games with them. Just be here, safe again. But there was a reason I’d come rushing back.

“Nadine needs help,” I told them, feeling Aaron’s muscles tense. “I tried to tell Girard and Felix, but they won’t act on it until I explain everything. They think it’s a trap, but I swear it’s not.”

I opened my eyes to find them watching me. Ezra crossed the room and sat on the floor beside my legs, using the sofa as a backrest.

“Tell us,” he murmured.

“Nadine explained why she ran away from home.” I repeated as much of her tale as I could remember, describing the envelope she’d received with all the information about her real parents. “She also mentioned her neighbor, a woman named Varvara Nikolaev. Have you heard of her?”

Aaron shook his head.

“Who is she?” Kai asked.

“A dark sorceress. We figure she murdered Nadine’s parents, brought her here as a baby, and put her in the care of a human couple to hide her, all while planning to make Nadine her apprentice when she turned sixteen.”

“Her apprentice?” Aaron repeated. “Why would she want the child of this British couple as an apprentice?”

“The Emrys family is famous,” Kai added. “Seems like an unnecessary risk.”

“It’s an old tradition among dark-arts practitioners to kidnap their enemies’ offspring and brainwash the kids into serving them.” I pulled my knees up, tucking closer to Aaron. He curled his warm arm around me. “Yesterday evening, Varvara kidnapped Nadine.”

“Wait,” Aaron said incredulously. “The dark sorceress kidnapped Nadine from the dark druid who originally kidnapped her?”

“Well,” I mumbled, “Nadine technically went with the Ghost of her own free will, so he didn’t kidnap her … by the strictest definition of the word.”

“Did she go with Varvara willingly?” Kai asked. “If Nadine only knows Varvara as her human neighbor, she probably thought she was being rescued.”

“No, she …” I thought frantically, trying to figure out how to explain it without revealing details about Zak. I couldn’t repeat anything he’d said, but what about things Nadine had said? “She thought she was safe from her parents’ killers.”

Aaron rubbed his hand through his hair. “What did the Ghost think of a rival rogue poaching from him? Can’t imagine he was too happy about that.”

“We’re the only ones who can save Nadine,” I evaded, unable to discuss Zak’s opinion on the matter. “We have to get her back from Varvara before they vanish. Will …” I coughed slightly, steeling myself. “Will you guys help me save her?”

Asking for help. Why was it always so difficult?

But I’d barely gotten the question out before Aaron nodded. “Of course.” He squinted thoughtfully. “My only concern is whether we should expect the Ghost to show up in the middle of our rescue.”

“I promise this isn’t a trick the Ghost is playing—”

“That’s not what I meant,” he cut in hastily. “I’m worried he’ll go after Varvara for payback and we’ll get caught in the crossfire.”

“Oh.” I tugged on a lock of my hair. “I don’t think that will be an issue.”

“Are you sure?” Kai’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t he retaliate?”

“Varvara has a … frightening reputation.”

“Are you saying the Ghost is afraid of her?” Aaron let out a low whistle. “We definitely need a solid game plan before we make a move. We don’t want to mess around with someone the Ghost thinks is scary.”

“How long will that take?” I demanded, pushing away from Aaron so I could face him. “Varvara might be scary, but that’s all the more reason we need to act fast. Why doesn’t anyone care about Nadine?”

“We care about her,” he protested. “But—”

“But what? Why am I the only one who gets the urgency here?” I flung my arms into the air. “That idiot druid is all, ‘Knock yourself out, Tori, but I won’t raise a finger to help even though I’m so powerful I can—’”

I choked on the words, slapping my hands over my mouth. My whole body went ice-cold. Oh god. What had I said? Sitting rigidly on the sofa, I waited for the oath spell to strike me dead.

“Whoa, Tori,” Aaron exclaimed. “Did the Ghost let you go so you could help Nadine?”

“I didn’t say that! I didn’t say anything.” I waved my hands wildly. “You didn’t hear anything. Forget I said that!”

His blue eyes gleamed with intensity as he latched onto my blurted suggestion. “But—”

Ezra’s hand closed around Aaron’s knee. Breaking off, Aaron glanced at his friend and a silent understanding seemed to pass between them.

“The fake parents,” I prompted, changing the subject as my gaze flicked between him and Ezra. “Nadine gave me the impression they weren’t nice people, but they cared enough to search for help. Varvara is their neighbor. They might know more about her, and we can find out how they came to be Nadine’s adoptive parents.”

“We can check Varvara’s home as well.” Kai pulled out his phone. “See if there are any clues about her other hideaways. Let me call them.”

We waited silently as he brought the phone to his ear. “Hello, Mrs. River? This is Kai Yamada … I’m doing well, thank you. Would you and your husband be available this evening to meet with me and my associates? We have a potential new lead to discuss. Yes … Yes, that works. We’ll see you then.”

He disconnected the call. “Eight o’clock. It’s the earliest the husband will be available. He’s working late.”

“Are you sure this is okay?” I asked hesitantly. “Investigating Varvara? Girard and Felix don’t want to do anything about Nadine until I—”

“We’ll worry about them,” Aaron interrupted with a wink. He stifled a yawn. “Not that I don’t want to kick sorceress ass, but I’d been hoping to get some sleep.”

“I’m good to go,” Ezra said lightly. “You can stay home if you want.”

“Yeah, right. Like I’d miss this.”

As they bantered, I leaned back against Aaron’s warm side. Eight o’clock. A few more hours and maybe we would finally have answers. I hated to wait when Nadine had been Varvara’s prisoner for twenty-four hours already, but we didn’t have a choice. She would have to hold on a little longer.

The River family lived in a tidy split-level duplex on a heavily treed street full of cute cottage-style houses. By the time we pulled up in Aaron’s car, the sun hung low in the west, on the verge of slipping below the horizon. Throwing my door open, I climbed out and took a deep breath of cool evening air.

It was so quiet. We were well outside the downtown core and the absence of traffic, honking, shouting, wheezing buses, and the clattering roar of transit trains was just bizarre. Half a block away, a young couple was walking their fancy Schnoodle-doodle-doo designer dog, and hopscotches were drawn on the sidewalk in pink chalk, but other than that, the neighborhood was deserted. Were the suburbs always like this?

The guys piled out of the old sports car, completing our foursome. Weren’t we a strange bunch? Aaron, in jeans with knees torn out, a slightly wrinkled blue t-shirt, and his copper-red hair in a tousle. Kai, in a V-neck shirt, slim-fit jeans, and his dark hair neatly combed back, looking suave and professional. And Ezra, who’d pulled a ball cap over his mess of loose curls, using the brim to hide his mismatched eyes.

Then there was me. Since we were supposed to be private investigators, I’d worn my lone pair of black jeans, a deep purple blouse, and a pair of “just in case I need to flee for my life” runners. My hair was twisted into a bun, and I’d even done my makeup—first time in two weeks. Go me.

Ezra scrutinized the house, then strolled away down the sidewalk, leaving me with Aaron and Kai.

“Where’s he going?” I asked.

“Scouting around,” Kai answered. “He leaves this stuff to us. People tend to stare at him and forget to talk.”

I snorted. “So he has a scar. Big deal. People need to grow up.”

Aaron passed me, heading for the front walk. “The fact you don’t care is one of the reasons he likes you.”

We piled onto the front stoop and Kai knocked. The door opened almost immediately, and a portly older fellow smiled wanly.

“Mr. Yamada,” the man droned. “Thank you for coming.”

I worked to keep my expression neutral. Hearing Kai called Mr. Yamada was just weird.

We filed after Mr. River into a neat living room with faded floral-pattern sofas from the same design era as floral wallpaper trim and curlicued oak end tables with white doilies under the frilly lampshades. The room featured all three.

As we crammed onto the sofa in front of the doily-laden coffee table, Mrs. River inched into the room, carrying a silver tray stacked with a teapot, cups and saucers, and a plate of biscuits.

“Oh,” she murmured, setting the tray down. “Let me fetch another teacup.”

Based on the tea set, her strong English accent shouldn’t have surprised me, though her husband sounded local. She disappeared through a doorway and returned with another cup and saucer. Adding it to the tray, she sat down beside her husband as Kai reintroduced Aaron. He then introduced me with a fake name, explaining how I was an expert on teen runaways. It sounded damn official and I straightened my spine, practicing my “professional consultant” face.

“Have you found anything?” Mr. River asked anxiously, twisting his hands in his lap. “You said you had a new lead?”

“First, I’d like to review some information for Miss Erickson”—Kai gestured to me—“so she can hear it in your own words. How long have you lived at this house?”

“We moved in about fourteen years ago. Nadine was two years old.”

“As we discussed before, seventy-six percent of child abductions are committed by family members or acquaintances. Let’s go over the people in the neighborhood that Nadine knew and interacted with.”

Obediently, Mr. River described the various neighbors who lived on the street, including Varvara. But though Nadine had claimed she was close with the old woman, Mr. River mentioned her only in passing.

As he talked, my gaze passed over Mrs. River. She sat stiffly, her narrow shoulders bent forward, her neat brown hair hanging around her face. Seeing me looking at her, she made an obvious effort to relax.

“Would you like some tea?” Not waiting for my response, she poured steaming liquid into the cups. “Sugar?”

“Uh … sure, thanks.”

She passed a teacup to everyone then took one for herself, grasping the tiny handle with her pinky sticking out.

“Nadine loves tea and biscuits,” she mumbled.

Uh-huh. Morgan and Nekhii had made tea every night I’d been at the farm, but Nadine had never partaken. How well did these people even know their supposed daughter? I hadn’t forgotten what Nadine had told me about her fake parents—the low-level verbal and emotional abuse I was so familiar with from my father.

“Where were you the night Nadine disappeared?” I asked, cutting right through Mr. River’s long description of the neighborhood boy who shoveled their walks in the winter. We were here to get information from the couple, and that meant winning their cooperation—but I couldn’t tolerate their bullshit for another minute more.

The question seemed to startle him. “I was working late, and my wife had an appointment. We told Mr. Yamada that, last time we—”

“An appointment where?” I pressed, ignoring Kai’s warning look.

“At the spa,” Mrs. River answered miserably. “If I’d known what would happen, I never would have—”

“But you knew it was her birthday.” I sat forward, almost spilling hot tea on my lap. “She was turning sixteen. Why weren’t you home at all?”

“I don’t see how this relates to Nadine’s disappearance,” Mr. River said stiffly. “I thought you had a new lead?”

“We’ll get to that shortly,” Kai jumped in, shooting me a glare. Feeling guilty for derailing his careful interrogation, I hid my expression behind my teacup. Blowing on the hot liquid, I inhaled the earthy-scented steam as I took a sip.

My nerves twanged and fear plunged through me. It took a moment for my brain to catch up to my instincts.

I spat the tea all over the coffee table.

“Whoa!” Aaron yelped. “Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize it was so hot.” Leaping up, I shoved my cup and saucer onto the table, then put my back to the Rivers. Eyes wide with emphasis, I added, “Don’t drink the tea. You’ll burn your tongue.”

Kai set his full cup on the side table. “I’ll let it cool off.”

Aaron ditched his tea too, and I spun back around, smiling toothily at the gawking couple. “So sorry about that! Can I help you clean up?”

“No, no, let me.” Mrs. River pressed one hand to the tea-splattered coffee table, mumbling something else—but not quiet enough that I didn’t catch the first word: ori.

My Queen of Spades card was already out of my pocket. “Ori repercutio!”

The air rippled—then a blast of inky red light rebounded on the couple. Mrs. River flew back into the sofa beside her husband, and the red light formed glowing ropes around their bodies, binding them.

Aaron and Kai were on their feet, but they were gaping at me and not the immobilized couple. Shoving my card back in my pocket, I pushed the tea tray aside and flicked the doilies off the wood surface.

“Wow, look at that,” I declared in mock surprise, pointing at the table-turned-artifact. “Sorcery inscriptions carved right into your coffee table! Weird, huh?”

“I don’t know what—what you—” Mr. River gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “What have you done to us, witch?”

“You did it to yourselves.” I folded my arms. “So, you two are in cahoots with Varvara, aren’t you? She set you up with spells and poisons and stuff.”

“Poison?” Aaron muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“The tea is poisoned.” I tsked at the couple to hide my swoop of fear. If not for the simple coincidence that I’d helped Nadine cut up those poisonous roots, I never would’ve recognized the smell. “That’s really impolite, you know.”

“Hmm,” Kai murmured thoughtfully. He cracked his knuckles. “I suppose we’ll have to proceed to a more aggressive form of questioning.”

Mr. and Mrs. River went as pale as their icky doilies.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve got just what we need.” I pulled out the two crystals I’d taken from Zak. Stuffing the red one back into my pocket, I dangled the acid-green one by its leather cord and advanced on the couple. “So which one of you wants to talk, hmm?”

“We—we won’t say a word,” Mrs. River declared shrilly.

“We have a volunteer!” I leaned over her as she wiggled helplessly against the magical bonds. I lowered the crystal onto her throat, just like Zak had done to me. “This is a really cool spell. Super-dee-duper illegal, though. But I’m betting you don’t care about little things like laws and ethics, right?”

“Uh …” Aaron joined me, eyeing the crystal warily. “What are you doing?”

“Getting answers.” I narrowed my eyes on the green stone. “Ori ostende tuum pectus.”

The crystal shimmered and Mrs. River’s mouth gaped open, her eyes glazing with disturbing emptiness. Had I looked that vacant too?

“What’s your real name?” I asked her.

“Martha Emrys.”

Emrys? Uh, okay, had not expected that.

“Shut up!” Mr. River yelled. “Don’t tell them anything, or—”

Kai stepped closer. Electricity crackled up his arms. “Say another word and I’ll stop your heart.”

A chill washed over me and I hoped that was a bluff. Could Kai actually do that with his lightning magic? I focused on the woman. “You’re an Emrys like Nadine?”

“Not like Nadine,” she sneered. “I was married to her father’s cousin. We met in university and I fell for him, not knowing he was a mythic. He brought me into the family and I learned all their secrets, but they always looked down on me. I was inferior to them, the powerful, famous sorcerers. Stephen was the worst—the most superior, stuck-up, arrogant—”

“You betrayed them, didn’t you?” I interrupted.

“I wanted to divorce my husband.” The words tumbled out in a rush, like she couldn’t stop them. “Albert came to London on an overseas work assignment and I’d been having an affair with him for over a year. He was leaving soon and I wanted to be with him, but I was afraid what would happen—whether the Emrys family would let me leave after everything I’d learned about them. Varvara promised I could be with Albert and they’d never find me. All I had to do was help her.”

“Help her murder your in-laws and kidnap an infant?”

“No, Varvara did all that. She helped me move here before the Emrys family even knew I wanted out. That was six months before she killed Stephen.” She spoke of the cold-blooded murder with indifference. “Varvara brought the baby to us. I hadn’t realized she was signing me up for fifteen years of raising his kid before I was free.”

“Aw, too bad betraying your family didn’t work out perfectly for you.” I sat on the coffee table in front of her. “So Varvara planned to take Nadine on her sixteenth birthday?”

“All she told us was to be away from the house for the day. When we came home and Nadine was gone, we thought that was it. But then Varvara came storming around, fuming about how Nadine had disappeared. She forced us to report Nadine as missing so the mythic community would investigate. When she learned the rogue druid had Nadine, she was furious. She pushed us into approaching your guild. She wanted you fools to apply pressure on the Ghost—to flush him out so she could get at Nadine.”

And that’s exactly what had happened. Damn, we’d played right into Varvara’s hands.

“You should be glad,” I told Martha, “that I’m the one who got to you first. The druid is far more merciless than me, and this interrogation spell is just one of his toys.”

She gasped. “You—you work for him?”

“Let’s not get sidetracked. Where are Varvara and Nadine?”

“I don’t know where she took Nadine.”

I squinted at Martha’s sneer and my stomach sank. Her eyes had cleared. The spell was done. The crystal hadn’t had time to fully recharge, so the twenty-minute duration had shrunk to less than half that. I silently swore. My first question should have been Nadine’s whereabouts.

Picking up the crystal, I jammed it back in my pocket. “Kai? I think we’ll need your aggressive questioning after all.”

Martha paled all over again, but before Kai could move, Ezra breezed into the room—but not through the front door. He walked in from the kitchen.

“Hey guys,” he said nonchalantly, nudging his ballcap up.

I blinked at him. “Where’d you come from?”

“I took the liberty of snooping around.” He shrugged. “Didn’t find much, but interestingly, they’ve got two fully packed suitcases sitting upstairs. Looks like the Rivers are planning a trip.”

“Ooooh?” I crooned. “That true, Martha?”

She squirmed hopelessly against the magical binding while her husband strained like he was trying to lay an ostrich egg.

Ezra smiled at her. “Why don’t you tell us where you’re going?”

Normally Ezra’s gentle smile warmed my cranky heart, but this time … the expression was gentle, but in a way that sent frightened shivers through my bones.

Picking up on it too, Martha gasped. Then gasped again. Her mouth gaped, her throat working frantically and lungs heaving, but no sound escaped her—no breath entered or left her airways.

“Ezra,” Aaron said nervously.

The aeromage glanced at his friend, and the moment his attention shifted, Martha inhaled noisily. Tears slid down her cheeks.

Watching her, I tried to summon sympathy. Or pity. Or something. But nope, I didn’t care that she was terrified. I didn’t care if she suffered. She was a selfish bitch who’d betrayed her family, aided a murderous sorceress, and abused Nadine.

Summoning my own sleek smile, I stepped up to Ezra’s side. “Want to talk now, Martha?”

Gulping loudly, she said nothing.

“Hmm, too bad. Ezra?”

He flicked his fingers. Martha wheezed as he pulled the air from her lungs—and this time, Albert gasped too. They convulsed for thirty seconds, their faces purpling, then Ezra let them breathe again.

Albert panted, his face shining with sweat. “Varvara called us an hour ago.”

“Don’t tell—” Martha cut off, gaping again as Ezra stole her air.

“We’re leaving the country,” Albert blurted. “She instructed us to meet her at her house—her real one—at ten o’clock.”

“Where’s her house?” I asked.

“I—I wrote the address on a piece of paper. It’s in the front pocket of my suitcase.”

Kai strode out of the room. As Martha’s face purpled, I poked Ezra in the arm. He tilted his head and she gasped in air, too winded to speak.

“Got it,” Kai said, returning to the room.

“When is Varvara leaving?” I asked Albert.

“Tonight—I don’t know when. But she told us not to be late.”

Tonight. Shit. We were out of time. I turned to the guys. “What do we do with them?”

“I texted Girard,” Kai answered. “He’s sending a team to pick them up. They’ll be handed over to the MPD.”

“I see criminal charges in your future,” I told the couple cheerfully. “Accessory to murder and kidnapping, just to start. Hey Kai, is there a statute of limitations for magical crimes?”

“Nope.”

Martha glared furiously. With a wave over my shoulder, I sauntered out of the house and down the front walk, the guys following. Once we were outside, Aaron groaned.

“You ruined it, Tori,” he complained. “Ezra and I have the ‘good cop, bad cop’ thing down to an art. He bursts in all scarred and terrifying and starts suffocating people, and I act all worried, and they spill their guts within three minutes.”

“Maybe you should’ve told me that.”

“Actually, I’m glad we didn’t.” He widened his eyes emphatically. “What was that? How’d you know the tea was poisoned? And whipping out your artifact as fast as a combat sorcerer—it was freakin’ hot.”

“Don’t forget her expert use of a black-magic artifact,” Kai added, his tone lacking Aaron’s admiration.

I winced. “Um. Am I in trouble for that?”

“Of course not.” Ezra linked his arm through mine. “Do we look like tattletales to you?”

Stopping beside the car, I peered up at him. “What next?”

“We’re going to save Nadine from the sorceress.” He smiled crookedly. “Right now.”

A frown tugged at Kai’s lips. “We need a larger team, but we can’t wait around for people to join us.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll coordinate on the drive. Let’s hope we can get backup in time to make a difference.”

“So we’re doing this?” I asked, my voice hushed with a mix of hope and fear. “We’re going after Varvara? For real?”

Aaron unlocked the trunk of his car. From inside, he pulled out a huge sword, its leather baldric wrapped around the dark sheath. Shaking the straps out, he flashed me a dangerous grin.

“Good thing we came prepared.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

My thumbs flew across the keyboard on my phone, half my attention on the words I was typing and half on Aaron as he drove. His eyes were fixed on the dark, winding road, bordered by huge trees that formed a leafy tunnel over the street.

“How much farther, Tori?” he asked.

I hit SEND then hastily switched back to the navigation app. “Looks like a block and a half.”

The cute duplexes and bungalows of the Rivers’ neighborhood were long gone. I couldn’t see any houses outside the car windows, only mature trees and manicured bushes that formed impenetrable privacy screens. At irregular intervals, gated driveways interrupted the walls of greenery.

According to my map, somewhere on the other side of those trees was the ocean. Yep, these were waterfront properties. Expensive waterfront properties. Not, like, million-dollar houses. Oh no. Twenty million? Fifty million? I wasn’t sure. I honestly didn’t want to know.

The important thing to note was, assuming Varvara didn’t intend to take Nadine through an international airport, the easiest way to leave the country was by sea. Varvara’s escape route was literally a stone’s throw away from her house. Damn clever of her, though I hated to admit it.

Slowing the car, Aaron drove another block, then pulled off the road and onto the strip of grass beside a dense twelve-foot hedge—neatly trimmed, of course.

“We’re not there yet,” I told him.

“We need to finish gearing up. Plus, sneaking is easier when you don’t drive straight to the front door.”

I grunted in reluctant agreement.

He shut off the car and twisted in his seat, his blue eyes unusually serious. “I know I said we’d do this—and we will—but I need to ask you something first.”

Nervousness fluttered through me—extra anxiety on top of my nerves about taking on a notoriously lethal rogue sorceress without proper backup, which wouldn’t arrive for at least forty-five minutes.

Aaron braced his forearm against the steering wheel. “I’m aware that the three of us aren’t known for caution, but there’s a difference between taking calculated risks and throwing your safety right out the window.”

“When we were going after the Ghost,” Kai said from the backseat, “you put yourself in more danger than I know how to quantify. And though you can’t explain how you escaped, I suspect it was mostly luck and circumstance.”

I winced. Yeah, he’d pegged that one right.

“You came this close”—Aaron held up his finger and thumb, an inch apart—“to imprisonment or death.”

Fighting another flinch, I tried to think of something to say in my defense, but even in my head, all my excuses sounded idiotic.

“You knew how dangerous it was. You knew no one had ever returned after he took them.” Aaron leaned toward me. “Why did you go with him?”

I looked from his face, harshly lit by the car’s overhead light, to Kai in the backseat. Ezra was sitting directly behind me, out of my line of sight, so I was spared his guilt-inducing, puppy-eyed, “you worried us” expression.

“It seemed like the only option.” I squeezed my phone between my palms, unable to meet their eyes. “If the Ghost had left, we would’ve lost our only chance to save Nadine.”

“We?” Kai asked. “Or you? Why are you so hell-bent on saving this girl?”

My head jerked up. “Why shouldn’t I be? She’s sixteen, all alone, trapped with parents who don’t love her, abandoned by everyone, completely helpless, and—”

Aaron’s hand closed over mine, cutting off my shrill rant.

“Tori,” he murmured, “are you sure you’re talking about Nadine?”

“Wh-what?”

“When you went with the Ghost, we didn’t know Nadine’s parents were giant douchebags. No one had abandoned her. She wasn’t unloved—as far as we knew. She was helpless, but that’s because she ran away.”

“But now we do know that—”

He squeezed my hand. “Tori.”

My throat constricted. He was right. I’d gone with the Ghost thinking Nadine was alone and abandoned and unloved. But I’d assumed all those details, filling in the blanks based not on her life—but on mine.

At sixteen, I had been alone. I had been abandoned and unloved.

I’d been desperate to save Nadine from that fate, as though changing her future would somehow change my past. If I rescued her, I would also rescue sixteen-year-old me. If I rescued her, the ghost of my teenage self would forgive me for being so weak.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Nadine wasn’t me. Faced with abusive parents and horrifying truths about her origins, she’d left it all behind. She’d found her way to Zak, who took her under his wing.

But me? I hadn’t had the guts to run away. My brother had, but I stayed with my father, letting him destroy me piece by piece. When Justin ditched me for the police academy, I went right back into the cycle of dependency by living with my father’s relatives. Even after relocating across the country, I was still clinging to the familiar—moving in with Justin, relying on him again.

Aaron’s warm hand slid up my arm, his brows pulling together in concern, and I realized tears were leaking down my face. Gasping in embarrassment, I twisted away from him as I fought for composure.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered thickly.

Aaron curled his fingers around the back of my neck, his thumb gently rubbing my cheek. “You scared us really bad, Tori. We don’t want to lose you.”

“I know. I won’t be stupid this time.”

“Just this time? I was hoping you wouldn’t be that stupid ever again.”

I sniffed. “You’re one to talk. You do stupid shit all the time.”

“Hey, I’ve never—”

“No, no,” Kai interrupted. “She’s got a point.”

I shot Aaron a triumphant smirk. He rolled his eyes, and with no more discussion than that, he threw his door open. Following suit, I hopped out of the car. The guys piled out and opened the trunk.

They’d partly geared up back at the Rivers’ place, but now they got their weapons out. Aaron strapped his big-ass sword Sharpie onto his back. Kai, already wearing a black garment that resembled a bullet-proof vest with small pockets and sheaths, checked that his tiny throwing knives and ninja stars were in place. If the small triangular blades had a real name, I didn’t know it and I didn’t want to. I was calling them ninja stars, because hell yeah. Kai, the lightning ninja.

Ezra wore fingerless gloves that ran all the way to his biceps, the knuckles and elbows reinforced with shining steel. A baldric was strapped over his chest, waiting for his weapon—his Twin Terrors, a two-foot pole arm that split into dual blades, which could then be attached end to end to make a four-foot double-bladed pole arm. It was freaking badass. He swung the pole over his shoulder and stuck it onto the magnetic baldric.

And me? I just stood there, having no gear to don. It kind of sucked.

Aaron slammed the trunk shut, adjusted the strap over his chest, and gave me a sharp grin. “Ready?”

“What’s the plan?” I asked.

“For now, we’re winging it,” Kai said. “Sneak in, check out the property, break into the house.”

“Rescue the girl, defeat the evil sorceress, celebrate victory,” Ezra concluded.

I pumped my fist, pretending I was as confident as they sounded. “Let’s do this!”

As Kai and Ezra approached the twelve-foot hedge, Aaron caught my hand, pulling me to a stop. I squinted at his face in the darkness.

He brushed his fingers along my jaw, the touch gentle and questioning. “Are you okay, Tori?”

“Yeah.”

Leaning down to bring our faces closer, he studied me. “Is there any way I can convince you to wait here?”

“What? No!”

He sighed. “Stick close to us, don’t go anywhere by yourself, and don’t take risks.”

I opened my mouth to retort with something pithy and sarcastic, but the words died on my tongue. Fear tightened his eyes—fear for my safety. However difficult the last two weeks had been on me, they’d been worse for him.

His warm hand cupped my cheek. Fluttering heat uncoiled in my core, spreading through my limbs, and I didn’t need the soft pressure of his hand to guide my head back. His lips brushed over mine, then he kissed me hard. I gasped against his mouth, my arms curling around his neck.

“Uhhhmm,” Ezra drawled. “Maybe you two could save that for later?”

Tearing myself away from Aaron, I turned. Ezra stood at the bottom of the hedge, and Kai was perched awkwardly on top, irritation written all over his face even in the darkness.

With a laugh, Aaron stepped into Ezra’s cupped hands and the aeromage threw him upward with an assistive gust of wind. Aaron scrambled onto the stupidly high hedge, then he and Kai jumped off, disappearing on the other side.

Ezra cupped his hands again. “Your turn, Tori.”

“Uh.” I was pretty sure Aaron had made that maneuver look much easier than it was. Doubt flitted through me. If the first obstacle—a goddamn hedge—was intimidating me, maybe I should wait in the car.

No, I could do this. I’d smashed poison over a darkfae, flown with a dragon, and discovered the secret identity of the most notorious rogue in the city. I was a badass.

Tugging my shirt straight, I marched up to him and put one running shoe in his gloved hands. He crouched, dropping lower so I could bend my knee for the jump, then together we launched up. I leaped as he threw me upward, a helpful blast of wind sweeping me into the air. I caught the dense branches at the top—and pitched backward off the bush, clutching useless handfuls of leaves.

Ezra dove to catch me, his arms clamping around my waist. Heaving me up before I hit the ground, he staggered back a step, lost his balance, and landed on his butt with a grunt. I sprawled in his lap, stunned by my own incompetence.

“Sorry!” Flinging the torn leaves away, I twisted around—and found myself face to face with him, our noses almost touching.

I reeled back, then scrambled up and nonchalantly brushed shredded foliage off my pants.

Climbing to his feet, Ezra gave me a funny look, a crinkle between his dark eyebrows. “Shall we try again?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

My second attempt went much better. I dropped off the hedge on the correct side and Aaron caught me. Phase one, complete.

Varvara Nikolaev’s estate was even more opulent than I had expected. The sprawling lawn, interrupted by a winding brick driveway, was impeccably manicured and included towering trees, artistically clustered shrubbery, several statues, and a marble fountain. The three-story house lay on the land like a plump, lounging baroness, her limbs and bulges adorned with tall windows and white columns.

“Be careful,” Kai warned. “Varvara is expecting the River couple to arrive within the hour, and I don’t think she’s planning a friendly welcome.”

“What do you mean?” I whispered as we crouched behind a red bush trimmed into a perfect sphere. I plucked off several leaves. Bushes weren’t supposed to be perfect spheres. It was unnatural.

“The Rivers are a liability,” he explained. “They’re the only ones who can tie Nadine to Varvara, and I doubt that’s a loose end she wants to drag around with her. Tolerance and mercy aren’t common traits for dark sorcerers.”

“You think Varvara is planning to kill them?”

“I would bet money on it. You probably saved their lives.”

Hmm. Could I get karmic points for unintentional good deeds?

“Ezra and Tori,” Kai whispered. “You two stay here and watch the front. I’ll scout the east side of the property and Aaron, you can scout the west side. Ten minutes.”

I almost protested, but he and Aaron were already zipping away, moving swiftly from shadow to shadow in a way I knew I couldn’t duplicate. Well, I felt useless.

“Don’t worry,” Ezra murmured, noting the dejected slump to my shoulders. “I’m not great at sneaking around either. I usually get door-watching duty.”

That actually made me feel better. Then again, Ezra sucked at stealth operations because he was literally half blind. I didn’t have that excuse.

Kai and Aaron returned right on time, reporting signs of sorcery hidden around the property but no clues about Varvara’s or Nadine’s whereabouts. There was, however, a sleek white yacht anchored at the end of a long floating dock that extended into the ocean waters at the north end of the property. Varvara hadn’t made her escape yet. She must be waiting for the Rivers to show up first.

Not wanting to waltz in the front door, Kai led us around back. I craned my neck. The main level extended to almost twice the square footage of the upper levels, and its rooftop formed a wide terrace accessible from the second floor. We crept to the ground-level garden doors and Kai produced a zippered pouch from his vest, pulled out two small tools, and picked the lock in about ten seconds. Color me impressed.

He opened the door and we slipped into a huge pool room. The water shimmered in the faint glow of decorative lights set around the ceiling. As adrenaline buzzed in my veins, we tiptoed down a luxuriously carpeted hall and into a large … parlor room? I didn’t know the proper names for fancy rich-people rooms.

Whatever it was called, my first impression was red. So red. Textured crimson wallpaper, rich cherry fabric on the furniture, scarlet- and amber-patterned carpet. Massive oil paintings in heavy gold frames covered the walls. The architecture, with domed ceiling cutouts and hugely elaborate trim, was very Victorian England, but the décor was giving me serious Winter Palace vibes. Varvara had added touches of home to the interior design.

As we slunk through the room, a crash sent me leaping into the air. Kai, Aaron, and I whirled around. Ezra stood beside a delicate curio table, surrounded by the shattered pieces of a vase. None of us moved as we listened, but no suspicious sorceresses appeared to investigate the noise.

Ezra cringed sheepishly. “Sorry.”

He hadn’t been kidding about his lack of sneaking abilities. He’d told me before that moving targets weren’t a problem for him—they disturbed the air, which he could sense with his air magic—but he was easily defeated by stationary furniture.

Kai scanned several wide doorways leading away from the parlor-ish room. “We should split up. Aaron and Ezra, you go left. Tori and I will go right. Look for Nadine, but don’t engage Varvara. Beware of traps. Meet back here in fifteen minutes.”

Split up? Seriously? Was I the only one who’d ever watched a horror movie before?

But Aaron and Ezra were already heading across the parlor. I cast a worried glance after them, then hastened in the opposite direction, following Kai. Together, we ventured deeper into the silent mansion, our survival hinging on little more than faith and luck—both of which I’d always made a point of never counting on.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“How is splitting up a good idea?” I hissed at Kai as we passed through another gaudy sitting room.

“We can cover more ground. The faster we find Nadine and get out, the better. If we can avoid confronting Varvara …”

Trailing off, he hastened through another archway and into a grand corridor, complete with twelve-foot ceilings and monster-sized gold chandeliers. At the front of the house, a huge curving staircase dominated the three-story-tall foyer.

“Varvara wants Nadine’s loyalty,” I whispered. “I think she’ll avoid treating Nadine like an outright prisoner. Let’s check the bedrooms.”

He nodded, and we scampered up the stairs to the third floor and ventured into a hallway covered with deep, luxurious carpet.

Quiz time. How many bedrooms does a multi-million-dollar, 20,000-square-foot mansion have? Answer: too damn many. Who needed this many bedrooms? It was ridiculous! Luckily, they were easy to check because, surprise, the doors were all open. And, just as luckily, they were all devoid of any nasty surprises. If I hadn’t known better, I would never have guessed an evil sorceress lived here.

At the end of the hall, we finally found a suspicious room. What tipped us off? The door was closed.

Kai and I stood in front of the door, considering our options. The unpleasant thing about Arcana was that, unless the runes were visible, magic could be hard to detect. And we didn’t have any sorcerers to help us.

I pulled out my Queen of Spades and positioned myself in front of the door. Cautiously, Kai touched the handle. Nothing happened, so he turned the polished knob. Locked. His lock picks came out again and in five seconds he had the door open. We peeked inside.

Barely noticing the paneled walls, lush drapery, and cluster of uncomfortable armchairs, I homed in on the giant round bed, raised on a carpeted platform, with another colossal chandelier hanging above it. A chandelier in a bedroom? Yuck.

Sprawled across the bed, fully dressed with her face buried in a pillow, was Nadine. I took an eager step into the room, but Kai grabbed my arm. That’s when I noticed the haze in the air, a sweet, smoky scent I didn’t recognize. On the table beside the bed, white tendrils coiled up from an incense burner, forming unnaturally perfect curls. Alchemy? Something to keep Nadine asleep?

Kai pulled a black handkerchief from his pocket, shook out the folds, and tied it over his nose and mouth.

“Okay, now you really look like a ninja,” I declared.

He huffed. “Let’s hope that smoke doesn’t work too fast.”

I wanted to go instead, but he’d have an easier time lifting the hundred-pound girl. Shoving my card back in my pocket, I gripped the doorway. My instincts screamed at me. Too easy. This was way too easy.

Kai inhaled deeply, then strode into the room.

I don’t know what made me look. A faint noise? An invisible pulse of magic? Whatever it was, I glanced at the windowsill where nine Russian nesting dolls were lined up from largest to smallest, their painted faces smiling benignly.

Kai crossed the path of the dolls and their bodies popped open with soft clicks. Green mist burst from inside—and shiny flashes shot at him like bullets.

“Kai!” I shouted, my warning far too late.

He jerked sideways and I heard him gasp—breathing in the perfumed smoke that filled the room. Catching himself, he launched toward the bed and grabbed Nadine’s legs. He dragged her to the edge of the mattress, flipped her dead weight over his shoulder, and sprinted back to me. I yanked the door shut as he stumbled to a halt, breathing hard.

I pulled Nadine off his shoulder and lowered her so she was slumped against the wall. When I turned back to him, he was pulling three silver needles out of his bicep. Thin trails of blood ran down his arm. Six more metal spines were stuck in his vest.

Staring at the darts, I gulped. “What are the chances that those things are poisoned?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Shit.” I had to get him out of here. He needed a healer or an alchemist—or both. I crouched and shook Nadine’s shoulder. “Hey, Nadine. Wake up. Come on, open your eyes.”

She groaned, then her eyelids fluttered. Squinting blearily, she raised her head. “Tori! What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you, kiddo.” Taking her arm, I pulled her to her feet. “You didn’t want to be saved last time I offered, but I’m guessing that’s changed?”

She wobbled before catching her balance. “How did you—never mind. We need to get out of here. Varvara—my neighbor—she’s a mythic. She thinks she’s saving me from the druid, but she doesn’t understand that—”

“Oh, she understands,” I interrupted grimly, hauling her into motion with Kai on our heels. “Varvara is a dark-arts sorceress, and she isn’t your friend. We need to get you out of here before—”

“Ah.” The sighing exclamation brought me to a sliding halt in the middle of the dark corridor. “What terrible lies,” the heavily accented voice continued. “Nadine, devushka, do not listen.”

The hall was dimly lit but I couldn’t see the speaker—not until she moved, stepping from a cloud of shadows I hadn’t noticed until that moment. Tall, willowy, with fine lines gracefully aging her aristocratic features. Her thin lips were painted dark crimson, her deep-set eyes were adorned with smoky makeup, and her silver hair was swept into an elegant topknot. With high-waisted brown slacks, a forest-green blouse, and a long tan coat draped over her shoulders, she looked ready to stroll through an exclusive art gallery.

“Varvara!” Nadine gasped. “Is that true?”

The sorceress pursed her red lips. “Why would you believe these dogs? The druid has sent them to steal you away.”

“I already told you the druid isn’t like that. He—”

“He has ensnared you, darling. These people? They are part of his trap. This woman who lies, you know her through the druid, yes? She befriended you by his command.”

Nadine’s eyes darted to me, then back to Varvara. “N-no, that’s not—”

“That,” I interrupted loudly, “is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Could you be any more cliché?”

“I will protect you, Nadine,” Varvara said serenely. “Soon you will return to your senses and see he is the one who has deceived you, not I.”

“I—I don’t want to go.”

Though it was well hidden, I saw a flash of impatience in the sorceress’s face. She didn’t enjoy all this playacting, but she was determined to woo Nadine to her side by making Zak seem like the real enemy. At least she was taking her sweet time about attacking us—more precious seconds for Aaron and Ezra to hear the commotion and get their asses up here.

“Nadine,” I said softly. “The druid told me he wants you to come home. He promised to protect you.”

Tears filmed Nadine’s eyes and her lips moved, forming a silent word. Home.

“I will protect you.” This time, Varvara couldn’t hide the angry bite in her voice. “Come with me and I will take you far beyond his reach.”

Nadine raised her chin. “No. I don’t want to go with you.”

Malicious fury filled the sorceress’s eyes. “You leave me no choice. I do this for you, devushka.”

Varvara raised her hand and it gleamed with gold—an elaborate, interconnected piece of jewelry. Rings circled each finger and her thumb, linked to larger pieces that covered the back of her hand, all connected to a wide bracelet. Her fingers were tipped with two-inch gold claws.

As she moved, Kai lurched into my back. His weight pressed against me, almost pushing me to the floor, and he hooked an arm over my shoulder to brace himself. He stretched his other arm over Nadine’s shoulder, fingers spread wide.

The air crackled. All the hair on my body stood on end.

White light shot down his arm, arched between his fingers, then exploded from his palm. The lightning bolt leaped across the hallway, then burst into a thousand snaking branches. All my muscles tensed, hot tingles and spikes of pain racing through me.

It was over in an instant, leaving only the stench of burnt carpet. The lights had gone out, plunging the house into darkness, and white spots dotted my vision.

Kai grabbed my arm and I snatched Nadine’s hand. Together, we bolted down the corridor to a dead end. Dragging them with me, I wheeled through an open doorway into a giant bedroom. Moonlight, shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows, cast silver squares across the dark carpet.

We sprinted to the window. Kai sagged against the wall beside it, coughing breathlessly. I grabbed a delicate end table by the legs and swung it into the window. Glass smashed in a spray of jagged shards and cool night air rushed into the stuffy room.

I stuck my head out the broken window and peered down at the concrete terrace. We could jump—if we wanted to break our legs.

Nadine gasped.

Whirling, I almost pressed back against the window before remembering I’d broken it. Varvara stood in the threshold, unharmed by Kai’s explosive attack. She raised her hand again, a swift incantation in Latin falling from her thin lips.

In front of her gold-clawed fingers, bubbling black smoke formed into the shape of a long spearhead.

I yanked out my Queen of Spades card. “Ori repercutio!”

I barely got the words out as the spearhead blasted into motion. The air rippled off my card and flung the phantom blade backward. It shot past Varvara’s shoulder, whipped across the corridor, and tore a hole through the wall.

Varvara’s eyebrows rose elegantly. “A fellow sorceress? Your pronunciation is boorish.”

Clutching my card, I fought to keep the terror off my face. I’d used the Queen of Spades and now I would have no defense for at least five minutes while the spell recharged. Behind me, Kai was leaning against the wall, his breathing shallow. I couldn’t count on his help. Where the hell were Aaron and Ezra? Had they gone for a swim in the damn pool?

Varvara raised her hands, both adorned with spelled jewelry, and she began the same incantation. Two inky black spearheads morphed into existence—one aimed at me, one aimed at Kai.

“Varvara, stop!” Nadine cried.

She paused her incantation. “I cannot, child. I will protect you, even if I earn your hatred.”

“Don’t kill them!” Her hands clenched. “I—I’ll go with you. Let’s just leave.”

“No, Nadine!” I snarled. “Don’t you dare!”

Varvara gazed thoughtfully at her desired apprentice, then lowered her hands. The spears evaporated. “If that is your wish. Come, devushka.”

I gritted my teeth. Nadine cast me a pained look as though pleading for my understanding, then walked to Varvara. Placing a gold-clawed hand on Nadine’s shoulder, the sorceress smiled sweetly at me. Her other hand slipped into her pocket, and as she guided Nadine into the hallway, she flicked a small object back into the room before slamming the door shut.

A dark pellet rolled across the carpet. The moment it stopped moving, blackness oozed out of it. The mist roiled across the floor in waves, spreading steadily.

I pivoted toward Kai. Braced against the wall as though standing required his full concentration, he jerked his shoulders, suppressing a cough. Something dark ran down his chin from the corner of his mouth. Blood.

He was coughing up blood.

His unfocused eyes met mine, and I knew his time was running out—and that wasn’t even counting the evil black mist spreading implacably toward us. It spanned the floor in front of the only exit, and I wasn’t dumb enough to walk into it. That’s exactly what Varvara wanted us to do.

I grabbed Kai’s arm and pulled it over my shoulders, but I had no idea where to go. My Queen of Spades card was at least three minutes away from recharging, and the mist would reach us before then. I didn’t think it would work on an alchemic substance anyway.

The fog flowed closer, only two feet away. Kai sagged against me, breathing way too fast.

A cool draft danced through the broken window, carrying with it a teasing hint of a scent. I inhaled sharply through my nose, wondering if I was insane. But no. The guys had told me again and again to trust them. To have faith. To believe in them.

So I hauled Kai to the windowsill, and as the black mist reached for our ankles, I shoved him through the opening and leaped out after him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The wind swept upward, slamming into me like a tornado, and then I crashed into a body. We went down in a tangle of limbs and my head smacked into someone’s shoulder. Owww.

“Shit, Tori!” Aaron gasped. “We weren’t ready for you. Wait for the signal next time, okay?”

Raising my head, I met Aaron’s anxious blue eyes. Beside us, Ezra had both arms around Kai, supporting him as he hacked bloody saliva across the white terrace.

“What happened?” Aaron demanded as we scrambled up.

“Kai was poisoned by Russian dolls,” I babbled at top speed. “Nadine went with Varvara to save us. Where the hell were you two?”

“We triggered a trap and had to bail,” Ezra growled.

“We were circling around the house when we heard you break the upstairs window,” Aaron said. “Where’s Varvara now?”

“She and Nadine are still inside the mansion.”

“Not for long,” Kai panted. “She’ll take Nadine to the boat now.”

With one arm still curled around my waist, Aaron raked his other hand through his hair. “Damn. This has gone all kinds of sideways. How long until reinforcements arrive?”

Ezra checked his phone. “Twenty-five minutes.”

Varvara would be long gone with Nadine by then—but as my gaze shifted to Kai, blood running from his mouth as he rasped for air, panic seized my heart. Kai didn’t have twenty-five minutes. He was halfway to drowning in his own blood. Even if we ran for the car right now, we might not get him to a hospital in time.

He raised his head. “Aaron … Ezra …” he panted. “Go save her.”

“Kai—”

“I’ll hold it together … until help arrives.”

Aaron and Ezra exchanged glances—and seeing the blankness in Ezra’s stare, I abruptly noticed how cold it was. My breath puffed white.

Aaron swore quietly, then squeezed my waist. “Stay with Kai. Text the team and make sure they’ve got a healer and an alchemist on the way.”

Ezra eased Kai to the ground. Releasing me, Aaron cast Kai one final look—anguish flaring in his eyes—then he and Ezra raced toward the doors that led from the terrace into the house’s second level. Ezra kicked the door open and they disappeared inside.

I crouched to extract Kai’s phone from his pocket. He unlocked it for me and I typed rapid-fire messages to Girard, updating him on the situation. His response popped up—30 min out.

Thirty minutes? That was too long! Kai would be dead by then. I started to type just that when an orange blaze lit the night—followed by a girl’s scream. My head snapped toward the railing at the edge of the terrace. Beyond it was the garden.

Varvara and Nadine were outside, and the guys had reached them.

“What’s happening?” Kai asked breathily. “Let’s get closer.”

Nodding, I pulled his arm over my shoulder and levered him to his feet. He sagged against me, his steps weaving as we lumbered to the terrace edge. Gripping the balustrade for support, I peered across the manicured backyard. A wide brick pathway cut through a long rectangle of grass, surrounded by shapely bushes and trimmed trees. In the center was a round patio of patterned brick, guarded on either side by polished suits of medieval armor on pedestals.

Varvara stood in the brick circle, Nadine kneeling behind her with eerie red light crisscrossing her torso—the same type of restraint from the coffee table spell in the Rivers’ living room. Aaron, his sword drawn and coated in flames, faced the sorceress. Ezra covered his left flank, a Twin Terror in each hand, both blades gleaming in the firelight.

Aaron lunged for the sorceress, his sword whipping through the air. She gestured and Aaron flew backward. Landing on his feet, he launched into motion again, casting a band of fire at Varvara’s face. He rushed in behind the flames, blade drawn back for a lethal strike.

The air around Varvara rippled. Purple smoke erupted around her, then Aaron’s flames exploded everywhere. I flinched as he and the sorceress disappeared in a maelstrom of orange flames, red sparks, and purple fog.

Wind gusted, blowing the colorful mist away.

Varvara had her arm outstretched, her metal-coated hand gripping the side of Aaron’s face. He stood rigidly, sword pointed at the ground instead of his enemy. She shoved him away and he stumbled, shaking his head side to side, the movements slow and stunned. I clutched the railing. Was Aaron okay?

He staggered backward until he’d opened ten feet between him and Varvara. She watched him withdraw, her scarlet smile visible even from the terrace. Ezra hastened toward the pyromage, ready to take over.

With another shake of his head, Aaron raised his weapon to resume the fight. A chill skimmed down my spine, dread closing my throat.

Aaron took two steps sideways, drew his sword back, and cut Ezra down in one swift stroke.

I screamed as Ezra fell. Kai made a noise between a gasp and moan, his hand biting into my arm hard enough to bruise.

Varvara’s cruel laugh rang through the garden. Aaron drew his sword up and adjusted his grip, preparing to drive the point into Ezra’s chest.

“No!” I cried.

The blade flashed down—and Ezra rolled, barely evading the strike. He heaved onto his hands and knees, then sprang up, clutching his weapons as he faced his friend. With stilted, robotic motions, Aaron swung his sword again.

Silver steel struck black blades as Ezra caught the weapon on his own. Fire burst off Aaron’s sword, but wind swept it away before it could engulf Ezra. As the fiery light flared, it illuminated something dark covering the side of Aaron’s face—the spot where Varvara had touched him.

“Tori,” Kai wheezed, his voice a shadow of its usual crisp tones. “You have to … stop them …”

Aaron slammed his sword down on Ezra’s blades again, driving the aeromage back several steps. Flames raced over Aaron’s arms and shoulders, and the grass around them caught fire. Wind spun around Ezra, barely holding the fire at bay.

“You have to.” Kai’s fingers dug into my arm. “Before Ezra … kills Aaron.”

For a second, his words made no sense. I’d expected him to say “before Ezra is killed.” Aaron had already sliced Ezra open, though I couldn’t tell how badly, and I really didn’t think it was the pyromage who was in trouble.

Not bothering to share my assessment, I pulled my arm free from Kai and grabbed the railing.

“Don’t you dare die on me, Kai,” I growled at him. “Stay right there.”

I leaped over the railing and dropped off the terrace. The fall was only a few yards, but even remembering to roll on the landing—thank god for those taekwondo lessons—it still hurt like hell. Gasping, I sprinted toward the fight.

Everything was on fire. I gritted my teeth and charged through the scorching flames, closing in behind Aaron. My hand went into my pocket, fingers closing around a leather tie as I squinted past Aaron’s back to Ezra. Firelight gleamed across his eyes, turning the pale iris to burning crimson.

Ezra caught sight of me and surprise flickered over his face. He snapped his focus back to Aaron as the pyromage brought his two-handed weapon down in a strike that would cleave Ezra in two. The aeromage flipped the short sword in his hand so the blade lay against his forearm and thrust it up.

The huge sword slammed down on Ezra’s blade—and the powerful impact barely shifted his arm. Ezra thrust the blunt hilt of his other weapon into Aaron’s unprotected stomach and a blast of wind hurled him off his feet.

Aaron slammed down on his back a yard in front of me, stunned and unmoving, fire still racing over his arms and shoulders.

Before he could move, I jumped on his chest, slapped the red crystal against the exposed skin of his neck, and shouted, “Ori decidas!”

The crystal shimmered and Aaron went limp, the flames on his body snuffing out. I didn’t react to the searing pain in my hands from reaching through the fire. My attention jumped straight to the dark splotch on Aaron’s cheek—a glistening substance like sticky black gel. In the center, something glowed green. I didn’t touch it, afraid of what would happen.

Clutching his swords, Ezra stepped between us and Varvara, who was observing from across the garden. Nadine knelt behind her, bound in magic, and as the garden quieted of all sound but the crackling flames that had taken hold of the grass around us, I heard her quietly weeping. Fury burned through me, almost as strong as my fear.

But my fear was stronger. Aaron was down. Ezra was wounded. Kai was dying. And all I had was my Queen of Spades card. For one insane moment, I considered calling Echo the dragon, but he was a wyldfae and I had no way to know if he would help me—or make things infinitely worse.

The grass rustled. Kai staggered through the flames and dropped to his knees beside me, his gasping breaths hoarse and wet.

“You idiot,” I hissed. “I told you to stay put!”

“I don’t follow orders … any better than you.” He wilted sideways and I pushed my shoulder against his, keeping him upright.

“Kai.” Ezra’s voice was soft, quiet, and possessed that unshakable calm that always soothed my fear. “I have no choice.”

Kai’s throat moved as he swallowed. “I know.”

Ezra’s hands tightened on his swords. The air around him went eerily still, then burst outward like a silent detonation. Wind more frigid than the arctic circle swept over us, extinguishing the fires across the garden and coating everything in a layer of white frost.

Varvara, who had observed the mages’ battle with a satisfied smirk, narrowed her eyes. Her smile melted away.

Ezra took a slow step toward her, and for the first time, fear tightened her regal features. Head jerking up, she hissed an incantation and slashed her hand in a strange, urgent gesture. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then low growls filled the darkness.

From the far corner of the property, shadows appeared. Thick, stocky Rottweilers prowled out of the trees, a white rune etched into each dog’s forehead—literally carved into their skin. They gathered around the sorceress, a dozen in total. Nadine cowered, trying to inch away from the beasts without drawing their attention.

Varvara pointed at Ezra and spat a Latin command. With deep barks and rumbling howls, the dogs charged us. I leaped up, empty hands grasping the air as though I could summon a weapon to defend myself—and Aaron and Kai, who were helpless.

Ezra extended his arms, blades outstretched as the temperature plunged to freezing—and kept dropping. The dogs flew toward him, too many for a single person to fight. They would swarm him in seconds.

The darkness deepened all around us, then the dogs burst into a frenzy of howls. Very different howls.

Two canine shapes charged into their midst—shadowy black wolves far larger than the Rottweilers. Their black fur rippled and danced as they tore into the dogs, red eyes glowing like beacons of death. The dogs’ ferocious attack morphed into panicked chaos, the garden filling with terrified yelps and deep, ethereal snarls.

As Ezra took two shocked steps back, his head snapping side to side in confusion, I spun around.

He was already standing beside me. Shadows coiled around him, the black tattoos that covered his arms shifting eerily, and the runes on his inner forearms gleamed with unnatural radiance.

The Ghost had arrived.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“You’re late!” I shrieked hysterically.

Combined terror and relief left me feeling loopy, and I had to sternly remind myself to be careful what I said—my oath was still in effect.

“We almost died!” I added in case he hadn’t grasped the near-catastrophic consequences of his tardiness. I’d texted him ages ago, and I was in no mood to consider how much of a miracle it was that he’d beat the Crow and Hammer team here. Plus the bigger miracle—that he’d come at all.

Without so much as a glance in my direction, he flashed past me, a red glow coalescing in his hand. It formed into a curved blade of light, and he slashed it at the nearest dog. Pivoting with inhuman agility, he tore through another canine as the vargs circled the pack, driving the terrified beasts into the druid’s fae blade.

With a high-pitched squeal, the last dog died. Zak faced Varvara, his shimmering saber casting a sinister scarlet glow across the garden.

He’d abandoned his usual trench coat in favor of a fitted t-shirt and black pants that did nothing to hide his belt of alchemic vials, the blades strapped to his thighs, the assorted crystal artifacts hanging around his neck, and the tattoos running down his arms. A frightening black mask covered his head, leaving only shadowy eye holes. Though his face was covered, other identifiers—like his tattoos—were on full display.

“Ah.” Varvara’s lips curled into a delicate, disdainful sneer. Behind her, Nadine stared at her hero with wide eyes. “You came, druid. I thought you too wily to show yourself.”

Zak pointed his crimson blade at Varvara. “Release the girl.”

“She belongs to me, as she has since she was an infant. You are the thief, druid.”

I gulped. The dark druid versus the dark sorceress—and I had no idea who would come out the victor.

At my feet, Kai sagged against my legs and my heart lurched. Whoever won the battle, by the time it was over, Kai would be dead.

“Druid!” I yelled desperately.

Smiling venomously, Varvara began to chant. Zak hesitated, then cast his hand out. The two vargs charged the sorceress while Zak backtracked toward me—causing Ezra to bring his swords into a defensive stance. Abandoning Kai, I leaped over Aaron’s prone body and grabbed Ezra’s gloved wrist—so cold it burned my skin.

I flinched but my voice was steady. “He’s here to help, Ezra.”

His unnervingly blank stare snapped to me. I squeezed his wrist.

“Trust me,” I whispered.

Varvara’s chant stuttered, then she barked a different spell as the vargs circled her, lunging and snarling without attacking. While she was distracted, Zak crouched beside Kai and Aaron, his red saber dissolving away. He swiftly examined them, then pulled a vial off his belt. He tossed it to me and I caught it with fumbling fingers.

“Pour that on his face,” Zak ordered as he leaned over Kai.

“Tori,” Ezra growled warningly.

“Trust me,” I told him again as I knelt beside Aaron. Pulling the cork out, I dumped the tangerine potion over the dark gel blob stuck to his cheek. Black smoke boiled off the substance, and the gel melted away. A small metal disc—the source of the green glow—slid off his face and thudded in the grass.

Aaron gasped, blinking rapidly as his eyes focused. “Holy f—”

I plucked the red crystal off him and he sat upright so fast he almost head-butted me. Gulping down air, he lunged to his feet, Ezra instantly at his side. Together, they faced Zak, whose attention was locked on Kai.

I planted myself between the two mages and the druid. “Just wait.”

“That’s the Ghost,” Aaron snarled, like I’d somehow failed to notice.

“Duh.” I rolled my eyes. “And he just freed you from the mind-control splat. Let him help Kai.”

Varvara was chanting again but I didn’t look to see what she was up to. I glared at the guys, silently demanding their cooperation. They’d told me to trust them. Now it was their turn to trust me.

Zak stepped to my side and held out a tiny glass vial filled with clear liquid.

“I don’t know what poison is killing him, but this is a universal antidote. Make him swallow every drop.” As I took the vial, he snapped a larger one off his belt. “Then have him drink this. It’ll keep him alive until you can get him to a healer.”

I clutched them both. “Thank you.”

“We can talk about a payment plan for that antidote later.”

My mouth hung open. “Uh …”

Her voice rising to a shriek, Varvara flung her hands into the air. The vargs were nowhere in sight—nothing impeded her incantation. With a final screamed word, she pointed imperiously at the two decorative suits of armor standing at attention on either side of her.

Or … not so decorative.

Glowing runes lit up across every inch of steel. With creaking groans, the suits shuddered, then stepped off their pedestals. Clattering with every motion, they stomped toward us and lifted their broadswords.

“Do have fun, druid,” Varvara called over the racket. “I will enjoy hunting you down at a later date.”

She’d stuck around to watch Aaron and Ezra fight, but she wasn’t keen to take her chances with Zak. Dissolving the magical binding on Nadine, Varvara hauled the girl up and marched her toward the property’s edge and the waiting yacht.

Zak canted his head toward the two mages. “You two take the golems.”

Aaron bared his teeth. “Like hell I’m doing anything you—”

“Do as he says!” I yelled.

Zak didn’t wait to see if the mages would obey. As shadows rippled around him, blurring his shape, he launched ahead. Aaron and Ezra took identical steps backward, startled by the druid’s speed.

“Shit,” Aaron muttered.

“Enchanted medieval knights, incoming!” I reminded them urgently, already rushing toward Kai. “Hurry up and stop them!”

They finally got their asses in gear and sprinted to intercept the walking armor. I dropped to my knees beside Kai. His eyes were half closed as he wheezed, the gurgle in his lungs more pronounced. Hands trembling, I pulled his head onto my lap and carefully uncorked the tiny antidote vial.

“You need to swallow all of this, okay? Ready?”

He nodded weakly and opened his mouth. I poured the potion in and he swallowed repeatedly. Tearing the cork out of the larger vial, I helped him drink that one too. Behind me, battles raged—fire blasting heat across my back, clangs of steel on steel, Aaron and Ezra shouting as they coordinated attacks.

A scream rang out, piercing my ears. Nadine.

But I didn’t look. I held Kai’s shoulders, waiting. If the antidote didn’t work, then I would hold him until the very end. He wouldn’t die alone.

Eyes closed, he concentrated on breathing. One minute passed, then two. With a deep, rasping inhalation, he opened his eyes. As I gave him a weak smile, I realized my face was wet with tears.

“You still with me, Kai?”

“Yeah.” He gingerly pushed upright. “My lungs are a bloody mess, but whatever that second potion was …”

He trailed off, his gaze flashing past me. I finally turned.

Aaron was on fire again, hammering his sword into a suit of armor that refused to die. It swung its giant broadsword and he ducked, the steel cutting through the flames leaping off his back. Ezra had knocked the helmet off his, but the headless suit was still flailing its sword around.

Beyond their battle, a swirling cloud of shadow and darkness flashed with half-obscured bolts of crimson and jade. Zak had cut off Varvara’s escape, but he had yet to defeat the sorceress.

Kai pushed onto his hands and knees, and as he struggled to rise, I grabbed his arm and helped him. He leaned against me, panting, then started forward.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, wanting to stop him but afraid of yanking him off balance. “You’re half dead!”

“I’ve got one more good bolt in me.” He slipped a short silver knife from his vest. “If you help me, I can take her down.”

I glanced at the tiny knife. “What do you need me to do?”

“Electricity always tries to ground,” he explained as we hastened into the shadows, circling Aaron and Ezra’s fight. “I need something to aim at. Stab her with that, and I can hit her no matter what defense she uses.”

We moved swiftly, albeit with a lot of staggering, until we were level with Varvara. Shadows twirled around her and magic glowed up her arms. She had her elbow locked around Nadine’s neck, holding the girl against her as a living shield.

Zak stood ten paces away, his crimson saber in hand. Lallakai’s shadowy wings rose off his back and yellow magic ran up his left arm in an intricate pattern, sparking with each twitch of his muscles. Two of the crystal artifacts around his neck were active and glowing. He snapped a vial off his belt, nudged his mask up above his mouth, and pulled the cork out with his teeth. He poured the vial’s milky white contents over the bleeding gash in his right bicep.

Varvara chuckled softly. “How many antidotes do you carry, druid? I’ll find a poison you haven’t accounted for.”

“Do you think you have that much time?” he retorted coolly, casting the vial away. His phantom wings flared wide, making him seem huge.

“What the hell is he?” Kai muttered.

A druid. A really badass druid.

Gripping the silver knife in my hand, I left Kai crouching in the shadows and crept toward Varvara, trying to stay out of her peripheral vision. Though I couldn’t see Zak’s face or eyes, I knew when he spotted me; I felt the electric zing of his attention. Keeping the motions small, I raised Kai’s teeny metal conductor and pointed it at Varvara.

Zak flicked his sword, drawing the sorceress’s attention to the weapon—and away from me. His other hand clenched and a green rune on his inner arm shimmered, then erupted in crackling light that formed wide rings around his forearm.

“Careful, druid,” Varvara warned, tightening her grip on Nadine’s throat.

Zak laughed, a husky sound of contemptuous mocking. “You’re a fool, sorceress. If you think her life is the reason I’m here, well.” As he spoke, Lallakai’s wings flared wider—then faded to nothing. The tattoos didn’t reform on his arms. “You will see the error of your thinking.”

He angled his blade for his next attack. He was making his move—which meant I needed to make mine and hope Varvara didn’t notice me coming. I rose into a crouch like a sprinter waiting for the starting gun.

Cool, alien power washed over me. I gasped when my vision dimmed as though I’d put on sunglasses, and for a terrible instant, I thought Varvara had cast a spell on me.

“Go now,” a female voice, shimmering in a way no human throat could mimic, whispered in my ears—or was she whispering in my head?

Lallakai. The fae eagle had wrapped me in her shadow magic to hide my movements. Zak had sent her, leaving himself vulnerable.

I launched into a sprint.

Zak charged Varvara from the front. Shoving Nadine to the ground, the sorceress threw a hand up, deflecting his saber. Not missing a step, Zak swung his fist, coated in green fae magic. Varvara shouted an incantation—a familiar one. Ori repercutio.

His attack rebounded, slamming him backward. I closed in from behind, the blade clutched in my hand as I aimed to ram it into her kidney.

Varvara whipped around, faster than I would have thought possible, and her metal-adorned hand slammed into me. “Ori impello potissime!”

An impact like a semitruck hit my chest and I hurtled backward. Lallakai’s wings swept open, releasing me from her shadows, and the fae materialized behind me, countering my momentum with her body. I hit the ground, rolling painfully.

Gasping, I lurched up—but Kai’s knife was gone. I’d dropped it.

On Varvara’s other side, Zak was on his feet again, blood streaming from lacerations across his torso—his own reflected attack.

“You think I didn’t see that fool girl?” Varvara sneered. “You think I didn’t notice your familiar leave you? I did not survive this long by being inattentive.” She leveled a hand toward Zak. “The game is over, druid. I will kill you, take my new apprentice, and perhaps even claim the d—”

Her mouth hung open, but no more words came out.

At her feet, Nadine crouched with one hand braced on the ground. In her other hand was Kai’s knife—now buried in Varvara’s thigh. Varvara screamed furiously and smashed her metal-clad fist into Nadine’s face. The girl tumbled away from her and the sorceress raised her hand—

A blinding flash. The white bolt leaped out of the darkness and struck the knife. Sizzling power burst across Varvara and she convulsed. Lightning raged over her body then died away, and the sorceress crumpled, her clothes smoking and limbs twitching.

With one hand pressed against my bruised chest, I staggered toward Nadine. Zak reached her first, crouching as he gently turned her over. I knelt on her other side.

She smiled despite the blood dribbling from the gash in her cheek. “Druid,” she whispered. “You … came to save me?”

Zak hesitated.

“Of course he did,” I told her matter-of-factly. “He even asked for my help. Practically begged me.”

I ignored his scorching glower. Not that I could see him glaring, but I could sure feel it.

“Tori …” Nadine frowned dazedly. “Who are you, really?”

“Ah, well, I actually work for a guild that was trying to save you from the dastardly clutches of the scariest druid on the west coast.” I shrugged. “But, I mean, not much I can do if you want to be an evil druid’s assistant.”

“You work for a guild?” she gasped, wide-eyed.

“Yeah.” I gently squeezed her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re safe, Nadine.”

She peeked shyly at Zak. “Can I … can I go back with you?”

“Yes,” he said, his husky voice surprisingly soft. “You’ll be safe with me.”

She grinned—the sugary grin of a teenager in love. Completely head over heels in love. I winced and hoped Zak knew how to gently let down an infatuated teen girl. As he helped her stand, she worriedly examined his bleeding lacerations.

I arched an eyebrow at his mask. “By the way, you look like a comic-book supervillain.”

“Hoods can fall off,” he growled. “And I didn’t want her seeing my face.”

At the mention of the sorceress, the three of us turned to the fallen woman. She lay face down, limbs twitching sporadically and her breath whispering harshly from her lungs. Hmm, still alive. Tough old buzzard, wasn’t she?

Zak jerked Nadine back, his other hand rising defensively. And that’s when I realized—not whispering breath. Actual whispering.

An incantation.

Varvara raised her head, silver hair tangled across her face. “See you in hell, druid.”

Red light erupted across the brick circle. As it sped outward, Zak scooped Nadine under his arm, grabbed my hand, and bolted in the opposite direction. Hissing power built in the air as we sprinted away—but not fast enough.

I yanked the Queen of Spades out of my pocket and whirled. “Ori repercutio!”

Varvara’s spell erupted, the air rippled, the ground quaked—then blazing light and crushing force slammed into me. It hurled the three of us into the air. We soared for several long seconds, then crashed down in a tangle of limbs.

A painful minute passed where I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even breathe as excruciating magic crackled through my body. Pulling myself together, I realized I was lying half on top of Zak, Nadine on his other side. Holy crap, everything hurt. What would that spell have done to us if my artifact hadn’t reflected some of it?

I pushed myself upright, wincing with each movement. Zak grunted and sat up too, then turned his attention to Nadine. While he checked on her, I stumbled in the direction I’d last seen Kai.

He was sitting in the grass, propped against a tree trunk, his face ghostly-pale. “Varvara took off toward the dock. Aaron and Ezra chased after her.”

I helped Kai up and pulled his arm around my shoulders. We shuffled out of the trees and onto the lawn, the grass charred and the brick circle split open with zigzagging fissures from Varvara’s spell. Yikes.

Zak and Nadine came out of the trees a moment later. His feather tattoos were back, meaning Lallakai had rejoined him, but I didn’t see the vargs. Hopefully they were okay.

Nadine gave me a wobbly smile. She was clutching Zak’s hand with both of hers, happier than she had any right to be.

Kai scrutinized the druid suspiciously, but Zak ignored him. We stood in silence, waiting. Three minutes passed, then silhouettes appeared on the brick sidewalk that led to the shore. The two figures headed toward us—Aaron and Ezra. There was no one else with them.

“Shit,” Kai muttered.

“She escaped,” Aaron announced bleakly as he and Ezra reached our quiet gathering. His gaze shifted to Zak, and flames licked down his sword. “The night won’t be a complete waste, though. Would you like to surrender, or should we beat your ass into the ground first?”

“Seriously?” I snapped. “He saved you.”

“He’s still a rogue and a murderer. Saving lives doesn’t exonerate him from his other crimes.”

Pulling away from Kai, I stomped over to Zak and parked myself in front of him, facing Aaron and Ezra. Their expressions darkened ominously.

Zak jabbed me in the back. “Get out of the way, Tori.”

I glared at him over my shoulder. “Not you too! Is this—”

The darkness behind him rippled—then wind blasted across me. The earth shook as something huge struck it, and shimmering blue and purple light filled my vision.

I looked up—way up—until I found the dragon’s dark eyes. Wings half furled, Echo crouched behind Zak. The faint galaxy-like swirls that shifted along his scaled sides dazzled my vision in the darkness. He was breathtakingly luminescent, a specter of the heavens descended to earth.

And he was huge. Absolutely massive.

“Oh,” I said weakly. “Hi, Echo.”

The dragon lowered his nose to a few feet above my head and puffed, ruffling my hair. I focused on Zak, searching his stupid mask thing. Clutching his hand, Nadine craned her neck to take in the beastly specter.

Stepping forward, I gripped her shoulder. “You sure about this, Nadine? My guild can help you too.”

“I want to go.”

Nodding, I pulled her into a hug. She reluctantly released Zak to return my embrace.

“The druid has my phone number,” I murmured in her ear. “Let me know when you’re all settled in. And if you ever need anything, tell me.”

“Thanks, Tori.” She beamed as she stepped back. “You’re pretty cool for a guilded … what are you, anyway? A sorceress?”

“Human, actually. It’s a long story.”

Her mouth fell open, but I was already turning to Zak. With a quick glance at Aaron, Ezra, and Kai—all three staring at the dragon and seemingly afraid to move—I grabbed Zak’s shirt collar and rose on my tiptoes to put my mouth by his ear.

“You are a supreme dickhead and I haven’t forgiven you for anything,” I half whispered, half growled. “Take good care of Nadine.”

He snorted in amusement. Catching my elbow, he pulled me close again and spoke in a low murmur. “I saw Echo’s mark on your arm. I don’t recommend taking him up on any favors, but if you do, be very careful what you ask for.”

Anxiety flittered through me at the warning. I peeked at my inner wrist, but the wyldfae’s shadowy mark was invisible in the dim light.

Releasing me, Zak stepped away. I was still unscrambling my thoughts when he drew Nadine to his side. Echo’s huge foot stretched out and he wrapped the druid and the girl in his taloned digits. Wings unfurling, he leaped skyward.

The blast of wind from his wings blew me off my feet. I landed on my ass as the dragon soared into the air. The night sky rippled and the dragon faded from sight. Zak and Nadine were gone.

“He took the girl!” Aaron burst out, his voice startling me. “Tori, why did you let him take the girl?”

I got up and dusted myself off. “She wanted to go with him.”

He gawked at me. Ezra was still staring into the sky and Kai looked ready to keel over.

“But you wanted to save her,” Aaron protested, disbelief and anger competing in his voice. “You were determined to make sure she was safe!”

I glanced up. “She is safe.”

“But—”

“Guys?” Ezra murmured. He pulled his gaze back to the earth and smiled vaguely. “I think … I might have lost too much blood.”

I had just a moment to spot the gash running across his chest and arm, the result of Aaron’s surprise attack, before his eyes rolled up and he crumpled to the ground.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Hunching my shoulders, I stared at my clasped hands. The silence vibrated through the office, bouncing off the bookshelves that framed the desk in the center. I peeked up at the man sitting behind it.

Darius. The guild master. The man in charge. The person responsible for every mythic who called the Crow and Hammer their guild. My boss. He surveyed me with serious gray eyes beneath expressive eyebrows. His salt-and-pepper hair was brushed back, his goatee neatly trimmed, and his aura of unquestionable authority as undeniable as ever.

Someday I would find the courage to backtalk to him. Maybe.

“Do you have anything else to say, Tori?”

“That’s it.”

“The last time we met in my office, I explained that your life is not disposable and I won’t tolerate anyone, including you, treating it that way.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’d known better than to expect cheering and delighted hugs from the guild master, but most everyone else was thrilled by my return. I’d been swarmed by members since arriving for my shift, all of them relieved that I was safe. Many had helped with the search after I’d handed myself over to Zak, and I was still thanking them for dropping everything on my account.

But Darius wasn’t one to miss the big picture, and his demeanor had grown more intimidating with each question about the Ghost that I refused to answer.

He sat back in his chair. “During our last meeting, I also told you that, because you are not a member of this guild, I can’t discipline you as I would one of my guildeds. I can’t garnish your bonuses or restrict your privileges. However”—I winced at the word—“it’s clear you haven’t taken the lessons I wanted you to learn to heart.”

“I have,” I mumbled.

A pause. “Have you?”

Wringing my fingers, I nodded. “I had a lot of time to think while I was gone, and when I got back … seeing how much I scared Aaron, Ezra, and Kai … feeling the same kind of fear for Nadine when she was captured …” I swallowed. “I realize I made an incredibly selfish decision when I went with the Ghost.”

“But you no longer fear for Nadine’s life now that she is again under the Ghost’s power?”

“No,” I said simply.

Darius stroked his goatee. For a long minute, we sat in silence while I waited for him to grill me about Zak again, about why the notorious Ghost had unnecessarily saved Aaron and Kai, why I’d let him re-kidnap a teenage girl, and why I wouldn’t explain anything. But he just watched me.

Finally, he steepled his fingers and rested his elbows on the desk. “Tori, independence is an admirable trait, but it can be rooted in pride, insecurity, and fear as easily as it can stem from strength, confidence, and self-reliance. Be sure you know what drives yours.”

I nodded numbly.

The intensity of his gaze lessened. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”

Sitting on my hands so I wouldn’t fidget, I muttered, “Varvara escaped.”

“She did indeed. A difficult opponent even for experienced mythics. Given the opportunity to approach her with more planning, I would have selected quite a different team to apprehend her than three hot-headed mages.”

My eyes dropped to the floor. “Kai almost died, and Aaron and Ezra probably would’ve been killed too if … if the druid hadn’t …” I looked up at him. “It’s my fault. I pushed them to rescue Nadine right away, without waiting for help.”

Darius’s sudden amusement took me by surprise. “And Aaron received his penalties for that recklessness earlier today. Ezra and Kai will receive theirs once they’re released from our healers’ capable hands.”

“Oh …”

“Their choices are not your responsibility, Tori.” He raised his eyebrows. “However, exerting your considerable influence over them in a more responsible fashion wouldn’t be amiss.”

“My … considerable influence?”

With a mysterious smile, he rose and picked up a sheet of paper. Half terrified it was a termination letter, I peered down at the paper. It wasn’t quite that unpleasant, but the familiar form was almost as bad.

“Get that done,” he told me, “before MPD comes knocking.”

“Yes, sir.”

I headed for the door. As I pulled it open, Darius spoke again.

“By the way, Tori.” He leaned against his desk. “Jobs, bounties, and bonuses are for guild members only. I’ve reminded Aaron of that.”

I winced. No side income for me, then. Stepping outside, I closed the door and headed downstairs. It was for the best. I wasn’t equipped for guild jobs, magically or emotionally. Before I did anything else exciting, I needed to get my head on straight. Every time the whole “you turned yourself over to a notorious rogue and disappeared for two weeks” thing came up, I felt a little stupider.

Ten minutes later, I was signing my name at the bottom of the form with a flourish when Aaron dropped onto the stool beside me and rested an elbow on the bar top. He must’ve arrived while I was upstairs.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked without preamble.

“Hey,” I greeted him, unable to contain my grumble. “I’m just finishing this stupid form again. Clara has lost it six times now but I think Darius suspects I’ve been hiding them or something.”

“Oh, that form.” He propped his chin on his hand. “The application requesting approval for a human working at the guild. The one that’ll get you fired the moment it crosses an MPD agent’s desk.”

Yeah, that pretty much summed it up. I glared at the sheet, feeling sick, but I’d known all along that my job here was temporary. Darius had called MPD’s never-gonna-happen approval a “bridge to cross when we come to it” but I wasn’t banking on him pulling a bureaucratic miracle out of his ass.

Time to change the subject before I got depressed. “How are Kai and Ezra?”

“Kai is still under observation. They said something about lung damage or risk of pneumonia or … I dunno. No big deal, though. Our healers are amazing. They can fix anything.”

Worried despite his assurances—Kai had been with the healers for three days already—I asked, “What about Ezra?”

“They sent him home this morning. He’s under orders to rest for the week.” Guilt flickered across Aaron’s face. “I can’t even rag on him about getting cut up since I was the one who did it.”

“It’s not your fault, Aaron. That spell Varvara hit you with was seriously nasty.”

“I knew better than to get so close to her.” He grimaced. “Rule one when fighting alchemists—don’t get near enough for them to dose you with anything.”

“Yeah, but we thought she was just a sorceress, not an … alchorceress? Sorchemist?”

Aaron snorted. “It’s a good rule for sorcerers too.”

“Well, it all worked out, so don’t beat yourself up.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling in a thoughtful way. “She’s vanished off the map for good, but I was thinking about taking another go at the Ghost’s bounty.”

I jerked upright on my stool. “What?”

He gave me a lopsided grin. “With all that extra motivation while we were searching for you, we made some progress in the hunt for his whereabouts. And now that I’ve seen him with my own eyes, I think I can catch the bastard—and once we have him in custody, I can find out why you’re terrified to spill any info about him.”

“No.” I waved both hands in a no goal motion. “No. Definitely not. Bad idea. Do not even go there.”

“But—”

“He saved your ass.” I tried not to sound panicked, but a shrill note crept into my voice. “The least you can do is leave him alone. Come on, Aaron.”

He surveyed me, then shrugged airily. “Okay, fine. I’ll leave him be … for now.”

My eyes narrowed suspiciously but I didn’t press. Pushing my stool back, I hopped to my feet and grabbed my form. “My shift started ten minutes ago. I need to get to work.”

“But I haven’t had a chance to ask you if you’re free on Sunday night.”

I cast an amused glance over my shoulder. “Free for what?”

“Dinner,” he said brightly, trailing after me. “Like I said before, I promise to turn my phone off. No last-minute cancelations or interruptions this time.”

“Hmm,” I pondered as I walked behind the bar. “Don’t follow me, Aaron. You aren’t allowed back here.”

Ignoring that, he followed me right through the saloon doors and into the kitchen. Thankfully it was empty, but still.

I stopped and folded my arms, the form sticking out from under my elbow. “I have plans. I promised to spend the day with Justin. He’s still sulking over how I ignored him for two weeks, and since I can’t tell him I was kidnapped, I have to suck it up and play the nice sister for a day.”

“Monday night, then,” he suggested. “I missed you too, you know, and I was way more worried than your brother.”

I hesitated. Not sure why, since I didn’t have any plans beyond spending Sunday with Justin. “Okay, dinner on Monday. But I want to swing by and say hi to Ezra tomorrow. I haven’t seen him since …”

The memory of him collapsing flashed through my mind—the blood drenching his shirt, the deep slice in his flesh hidden by the darkness and chaos. How he’d managed to stand in that condition, let alone run around and fight, still had me shaking my head in disbelief. Luckily, two minutes after he’d lost consciousness, the Crow and Hammer backup team had arrived and started emergency first aid.

I was rather glad they’d arrived late. Four minutes earlier and they might have spotted the monster-sized dragon flying off into the night sky, carrying a notorious druid and a missing teen mythic.

Aaron’s smile was immediate. “Sure! Kai might be back by then, too. We can order pizza with pineapple and eat it in front of him.”

I frowned with mock condemnation. “That’s a cruel thing to do while he’s still recuperating. We should order Chinese food instead … with pineapple chicken.” As Aaron snorted a laugh, I waved my form. “I need to drop this off with Clara and get ready.”

He plucked the paper from my hand and lifted it to his nose, scrutinizing the text like it described all my dinner date preferences.

“Fascinating, right?” I extended my hand and wiggled my fingers imperiously. “Give it back.”

He held it out—and it erupted into flame.

“Hey!” I yelped, snatching my hand away.

Smirking, he dropped the fireball into the sink, where the paper blackened and curled. “Oops.”

“Oops?” I repeated incredulously. “You did that on purpose!”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, all innocence. “You didn’t really want to turn that form in, did you?”

My anger faltered, and he leaned closer.

“What MagiPol doesn’t know,” he mock-whispered, “can’t get you fired.”

I suddenly had the sneaking suspicion that Clara wasn’t as disorganized as she and I thought. She hadn’t been losing all my forms. Someone had been destroying them. Maybe even three someones working in concert to keep me employed at the guild for as long as possible.

While I gaped at him, he laughed and sauntered across the kitchen. My wide eyes flicked from him to the burnt remains of the form. Darius would be so pissed when he found out.

If he found out.

Was Aaron applying the guild’s second rule? Or maybe …

“Hey Aaron,” I called. “What’s the third rule?”

Pausing with his hand on the saloon door, he looked back and grinned like my question was immensely pleasing—like it was the perfect question to ask.

“Rule number three: Any rule can be broken.”

Then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.

That was the third rule? Seriously? Mythics were batshit crazy, the whole lot of them. Glancing one last time at the ashes in the sink, I hurried into the back room to get my apron.

Stifling a yawn, I opened the back gate. A small yard stretched ahead of me, half grass shadowed by a giant spruce and half cracked patio tiles with a wooden pergola. As I crossed to the bungalow’s rear door, the cool night air whispered over my bare arms, smelling of rain. Fumbling around in my purse, I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door.

I’d spent my first night post-captivity crashing at Aaron’s house, but since then, I’d been making good use of my shiny new apartment. It was still a shock to think that this place was mine. All mine. Slipping inside, I descended the stairs—and a high-pitched squeal rang out in greeting.

Okay, almost all mine.

A green faery bounded up to me, his leafy body quivering with excitement. Bemused, I dropped my purse on the floor near the stairs. I fully intended to put a table there … eventually. Aside from my brand-new bed—which Aaron had helped me set up a couple days ago—I had no furniture. Zero. Zip. Zilch. The place had a literal echo, and it would be staying that way for a while.

But it was mine. Who needed furniture?

“You’re baaaaaack,” the faery squeaked. “I can’t believe it!”

I pulled a face at his spastic reaction. “Hey Twiggy. I come home every night, you know.”

His name wasn’t Twiggy. It was Taenerpatni … something. Like fifteen syllables that I couldn’t remember, let alone pronounce. So we’d agreed on Twiggy. He seemed to like it.

“I can’t believe it!” he repeated shrilly. “You know the Crystal Druid.”

My face went cold and I froze where I stood. “You—you mean—”

“The Crystal Druid,” Twiggy repeated in a reverent, almost fearful hush. “All fae here know of the Crystal Druid. He who walks among the darkfae of Gardall’kin. Consort of Lallakai, lady of shadow, the great night eagle.”

Consort? I hoped that word had a different meaning for fae, otherwise it was just way too weird.

Still babbling, Twiggy sped toward the kitchen, leaving me with my mouth hanging open. Feeling vaguely giddy at the influx of apprehension and confusion, I padded after him and flipped on the lights.

Twiggy stood on the counter, bobbing up and down as he pointed excitedly at the plain cardboard box sitting beside my sink. A cardboard box I did not own and that had not been there when I left this morning.

No way. Zak had been in my apartment? How did he even know where I lived?

I approached the box with caution. Absently shushing Twiggy, I unfolded the top and lifted the flap just enough to peek inside, my heart beating like a drum roll against my ribs.

Light gleamed on something pale. Breath catching, I pulled the flaps all the way open. Nestled in a bed of crumpled packing paper was a silver orb streaked with aquamarine and pink, its shining surface adorned with strange bumps and ridges. It was the dormant fae … thing … I’d found in Zak’s room and almost knocked onto the floor.

A shred of paper sat on top, half filled with spiky handwriting.

This doesn’t belong in my care. It’s yours now. Keep it safe.

P.S. The faery is your roommate? You’re an idiot.

I glowered at the note. That’s it? He didn’t want the fae orb around, so now it was my problem? What the hell?

And who was he calling an idiot? Some of us didn’t have our very own paradise ranch in the mountains. We had to make stupid deals with annoying faeries just to afford a place to live. Growling, I whipped my phone out of my pocket, pulled up the single message I had sent him four nights ago, and shot off a new text. Three words: You’re a dickhead.

Squeezing my phone in both hands and ignoring Twiggy’s questions about the fae orb, I waited.

Two minutes later, my phone pinged and a reply popped up. No words. Just a photo.

Waving cheerily at the camera, Nadine perched on the top rail of a wooden fence with nothing but wide-open green pasture stretching away behind her. Her smile was relaxed and happy, the circles beneath her eyes had faded, and a tan warmed her fair complexion.

The blank, hopeless stare that haunted her old photos was gone without a trace.

I studied the picture, taking in every detail, then stuck my phone back in my pocket and smiled. Varvara was still out there somewhere, but Zak would keep Nadine safe. A job well done, even if it hadn’t gone at all to plan.

Turning my attention to the box and its supernatural contents, I folded my arms. One problem solved, but another had literally been delivered to my apartment.

I sighed. “Now what am I supposed to do with you?”

The dormant fae didn’t answer, but then, I hadn’t expected it to. Pondering the unforeseen complexities of my life, I wandered over to the cupboard above the fridge and opened it to reveal several liquor bottles. My apartment was unfurnished and my pantry was half empty, but I still had choice alcohol available. I was a bartender, after all.

Twiggy hopped onto the counter beside me, his jewel-like green eyes inquisitively wide. “What now?”

Good question, and not one I planned to worry about anytime soon. I selected a bottle and set it on the counter beside my faery roommate.

“Tell me, Twiggy.” I arched an eyebrow. “Have you ever tried whiskey before?”

Tori’s adventures continue in

TWO WITCHES AND A WHISKEY

The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Three

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TWO WITCHES AND A WHISKEY

The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Three

I'm not a badass mage like my three smokin' hot best friends. I'm not a sorcerer or an alchemist, or even a wussy witch. I'm just a human, slinging drinks like a pro and keeping my non-magical nose out of mythic business. Seriously, I know my limits.

So why am I currently standing in a black-magic ritual circle across from a fae lord?

Somewhere behind me, my three mage friends are battling for their lives. Somewhere near my feet is the rogue witch I just knocked out with a stolen spell. And I have about five seconds to convince this very angry sea god not to shmoosh me like a bug.

I'm pretty sure this wasn't part of the job description.

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THE STEEL & STONE SERIES

YA urban fantasy by Annette Marie

When everyone wants you dead, good help is really hard to find …

Piper knows the first rule for an apprentice Consul is don’t trust daemons. But when she’s framed for the theft of the deadly Sahar Stone, she ends up with two troublesome daemons as her only allies: Lyre, a hotter-than-hell incubus who isn’t as harmless as he seems, and Ash, a draconian mercenary with a seriously bad reputation. Trusting them might be her biggest mistake yet.

- See the Steel & Stone Series on Amazon -

The Spell Weaver Trilogy

YA urban fantasy by Annette Marie

The only thing more dangerous than the denizens of the Underworld ... is stealing from them.

As a nymph living in exile among humans, Clio has picked up all sorts of interesting skills. But pilfering magic from the Underworld’s deadliest spell weavers? Not so much.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what she has to do to earn a ticket back home.

Conning her way into the Underworld may have gone pretty well, but now she’s got a new problem. His name is Lyre, a sinfully alluring incubus and gifted spell weaver—and her biggest obstacle to getting her hands on some damn magic.

- See the Spell Weaver Trilogy on Amazon -

THE RED WINTER TRILOGY

YA romantic fantasy by Annette Marie

A destiny written by the gods.

A fate forged by lies.

If Emi is sure of anything, it’s that kami—the gods—are good, and yokai—the earth spirits—are evil. But when she saves the life of a fox shapeshifter, the truths of her world start to crumble. And the treachery of the gods runs deep.

This stunning trilogy features 30 full-page illustrations.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Special thanks to Erich Merkel for sharing your exceptional expertise in Latin. Any errors are mine.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Annette Marie is the author of Amazon best-selling YA urban fantasy series Steel & Stone, its prequel trilogy Spell Weaver, and romantic fantasy trilogy Red Winter. Her first love is fantasy, but fast-paced action, bold heroines, and tantalizing forbidden romances are her guilty pleasures. She proudly admits she has a thing for dragons, and her editor has politely inquired as to whether she intends to include them in every book.

Annette lives in the frozen wasteland of Alberta, Canada (okay, it’s not quite that bad) and shares her life with her husband and their furry minion of darkness—sorry, cat—Caesar. When not writing, she can be found elbow-deep in one art project or another while blissfully ignoring all adult responsibilities.

Find out more about Annette and her books here:

Website: www.annettemarie.ca

Amazon author page: amzn.to/2b8ZHlh

Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorAnnetteMarie

Facebook Reader Group: www.facebook.com/groups/annettemarie/

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/8546572.Annette_Marie

Twitter: twitter.com/annettemmarie

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Contents

Books by Annette Marie

The Guild Codex

Dark Arts and a Daiquiri

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Two Witches and a Whiskey

The Steel & Stone Series

The Spell Weaver Trilogy

The Red Winter Trilogy

Acknowledgments

About the Author