Lost Talismans and a Tequila (The Guild Codex: Spellbound Book 7)

by Annette Marie

  Eterran snapped to attention and power surged through us. The temperature plunged as demonic magic flashed over my arms and into my hands.

  My arm shot up, reaching for an object I could sense swinging toward me, and I caught a limb clad in cool leather—but I couldn’t see it. The air shifted all around me, frenzied input, too much to track, but my eyes saw nothing except the parking pad and fence.

  Phantom claws, six inches long, formed over my fingers and I struck with my free hand. The talons sank into the wooden fence with a muffled crunch.

  Something sharp dug into my lower ribs. Something else, blunt and hard as steel, pushed into my spine, and yet something else pressed against my side, just above my left kidney.

  Like a light switch flipping on, a man appeared in front of me. I held his wrist, preventing his silver dagger from reaching my throat, but his second blade had cut through my shirt, the tip stinging my flesh as he angled it to pierce between my ribs. My talons were buried in the fence beside his head, and one had grazed the side of his face.

  Blood trickled down Darius’s cheek as his steely gray eyes stared into mine.

  On my blind side—that would be Girard. I couldn’t see him, but the weapon he was ramming into my side would be his enchanted pistol, loaded with bullets that were more alchemy than lead. And behind me could be none other than Alistair, his steel-tipped staff wedged into my spine so that, with one powerful thrust, he could shove my vertebrae through my spinal cord.

  Eterran’s thoughts rippled as he considered and discarded a dozen plans of attack in a heartbeat. We could probably kill one of them, but we’d die anyway.

  Eterran, I thought.

  Bitterness flashed, then the demon receded. The demonic power coursing through me thinned and faded. As the talons piercing the fence post dissolved, I noted the difference in my response to an attack now as compared to only a few days ago. The demonic power, once my last resort, had risen to my command instantly.

  There were as many disadvantages to allowing Eterran this much autonomy within me as there were advantages.

  “I thought you were going to wait,” I said quietly.

  Darius’s emotionless gaze searched my eyes. “That was the plan … until your behavior changed.” His dagger parted my skin above my lowest rib. “Your demon has already learned to control you in your sleep.”

  “He isn’t controlling me.”

  “Would you even know anymore, Ezra?”

  My eyelids hooded as I considered that. “Ask Robin Page.”

  Surprise flickered over Darius’s stony features.

  “I’ve been working with her.” I studied him. “You know about her, don’t you?”

  The dagger eased out of my flesh. “I know.”

  He said nothing more about Robin, and I didn’t ask. That was the thing with Darius. He was the ultimate keeper of secrets, and for better or worse, he would never reveal one of his guilded’s secrets without permission—even when it might save someone’s life. If it wasn’t his secret to share, then Darius wouldn’t so much as drop a hint.

  “And what are you working on with Robin?” he asked neutrally.

  “A way to survive.”

  Another flash of surprise. “What brought on your change of heart?”

  I grimaced.

  “Ah.” Darius smiled faintly. “Our fiery bartender inspires us all.”

  He pulled his dagger away from my ribs and I released his wrist. As his blades slid into the sheaths belted to his hips, Girard and Alistair retreated a step. I shifted out from their lethal circle and turned to bring all three men into view.

  Black leather, cold eyes, deadly experience, and enough magic to defeat almost anyone. The mythic world was lucky these three could be counted among the good guys.

  Darius flipped the latch on the gate, and I followed him into the yard. The other two waited in the alley.

  “Are you in control, Ezra?” my GM asked.

  Again, I considered his question carefully. “I think so.” I let out a slow breath. “Eterran wants to survive too. Tori allied with him, and I … I’ve done the same.”

  “That’s a dangerous line to walk.”

  Ice blanketed my mind as Eterran pushed me aside. “As dangerous as the line you walk with the demon of Vh’alyir?”

  Wariness flared in Darius’s eyes, and I quickly resumed control.

  “One way or another, this will end soon,” I said. “I want to try.”

  The former assassin assessed me for a long moment. “Imminent death does strange things to the mind, Ezra. It brings out the best in some, and the worst in others. I’ve feared all along that, when the time came, we would have to face your worst.”

  I opened my mouth to protest.

  His hand closed around my shoulder, gripping tightly. “You can’t rise above your worst if you’ve never faced it.” He turned away. “We’ll be keeping an eye on you, but I expect updates as well.”

  I watched him stride to the gate. He swung it closed, and as the latch dropped into place, he looked back at me, Girard and Alistair behind him.

  “I’ve waited six years for you to commit to the fight, Ezra. Don’t disappoint me.”

  Their footfalls crunched across the parking pad, but when they walked onto the asphalt of the alleyway, the sound of their steps went silent. They faded from sight, disappearing as Darius’s magic bent the light around them.

  I pressed a hand to my ribs, where blood had soaked through my shirt.

  Inside the house, I showered, dabbed a healing potion on the shallow cut, and dressed in comfortable clothes. The rooms echoed, painfully empty, as I walked through the house. In my bedroom, I pulled my guitar from its stand, sat on my bed, and plucked each string to check it was in tune.

  Too many secrets. Mine. Tori’s. Robin’s.

  My eyes closed as I let my fingers slide across the strings and press into the frets, the quiet notes scarcely heard.

  Aaron and Kai had only given up because I’d asked them to stop. Darius had been waiting for me to fight for my life. Tori had risked everything to keep me alive long enough to take up the fight on my behalf.

  Why did I wait this long to try?

  Eterran stirred, his mind more calm than usual, the sharp cut of his bitterness dulled. Do you want to know?

  My fingers hesitated on the guitar strings.

  He just told you.

  Who?

  Darius.

  What do you mean?

  The memory replayed—Darius’s hand on my shoulder, his murmured words. You can’t rise above your worst if you’ve never faced it.

  I ran through the words again, and understanding drove in my chest like a twisting knife.

  My guitar went silent under my hands. I drew in a deep breath, then let it out. Memories rose inside me—shattered homes, abandoned possessions, the obliterated temple with its gray stones stained red. Emptiness where there had once been family. Agony where there had once been happiness.

  My fault. All my fault—and any attempt at escaping my predetermined end felt like an evasion of my rightful punishment for the damage and death I’d caused.

  I didn’t deserve to be happy. I didn’t deserve to be loved or protected. I didn’t deserve to have a normal life—as normal as my life could be while concealing that I was a demon mage.

  Setting my guitar on the bed, I reached for my nightstand. In the top drawer, a leather-bound album. I pulled it onto my lap and opened the cover. Slowly, I flipped through photo after photo of me, Aaron, Kai, and Tori. Especially Tori.

  I stopped on the last photo. My and Tori’s selfie from the Christmas party, taken as I’d laughed at her attempt to get a more flattering picture. Mere minutes later, in a back hall of the manor, she’d kissed me under the mistletoe.

  With the album balanced on my lap, I slid my phone from my pocket. The screen glowed too brightly for the dimly lit room as I opened our text conversation. Her last message waited, unanswered. She hadn’t sent any more.


  I didn’t deserve to be loved …

  My thumb tapped her icon, bringing up her contact info. I selected her number.

  … but somehow, it had happened anyway.

  I pressed the call button and lifted the phone to my ear as it rang.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  West Yellowstone was a town in southern Montana. Yeah, Montana. We were heading home, but Aaron had detoured off the main road so we could all get a proper night’s rest in an out-of-the-way location.

  Food, showers, clean clothes, sleep. They should have been my top priority, but while the others were in our motel room, taking turns in the bathroom and finishing off several bags of takeout, I wasn’t with them.

  Instead, I was back in the passenger seat of Aaron’s SUV. With the chair reclined as far as it would go, I stared dully at the roof, my bruised, aching arm resting on my stomach.

  I hadn’t been able to handle the others’ quiet discussion of the cult—the Court, as Daniel’s demon had called it. The Court, which seemed to be the cult’s top level that controlled the smaller “circles” like the one in Portland. An interconnected system both hidden and powerful, and insidious enough to ensnare not one but four members of the Keys of Solomon. Who knew what other guilds or groups the cult had wormed into?

  The Court knew the Portland circle had been discovered, and they would make it disappear—if they hadn’t already. The Praetor had vanished, and he was probably the only member of that group who knew anything of consequence.

  And without the Portland circle and its Praetor, we had nothing but a dying demon’s nonsensical description.

  North. West. Capilano. Among the thāitav. By the river.

  Google hadn’t revealed a town or city called Capilano, but it was a common name for everything from neighborhoods to streets to shopping malls. “By the river” narrowed the options slightly, but thāitav wasn’t a word in any language we could figure out, meaning it was probably demonic.

  Maybe, with weeks or months of careful investigation, the Crow and Hammer could expose the Court. Maybe our guild could even bring it down, though Aaron thought it would require MPD oversight and a coordinated multi-guild effort to truly stamp out.

  But none of that would save Ezra.

  Somewhere at my feet, the Vh’alyir Amulet lay where I’d dropped it. How many deaths had I caused with this naïve expedition? I’d deceived and hurt my friends. Dragged Aaron and Kai away from Ezra when he most needed them. Put Justin’s life in danger. Gotten Blake horribly injured—or maybe fatally injured.

  All for nothing.

  Swallowing a miserable groan, I sat up and studied the amulet between my feet. I lifted it by the chain, then popped open the glove box to toss the amulet inside. As the plastic door dropped open, the cult scepter rolled out.

  I caught it. The amulet in one hand and the scepter in the other, I stared at the two artifacts. Why had I thought a lost talisman could save Ezra? Why had I thought I could find a way when no one else could? Why had I thought I could change anything?

  I was just a magic-less human pretending she was special.

  Jaw clenched, I wrapped the amulet chain around the silver scepter handle and shoved both into the dark compartment. Flopping back onto the reclined seat, I stared upward as tears slid sideways down my face and into my hair.

  My phone buzzed against my butt cheek.

  I jumped half a foot off the seat, then dug my phone out of my pocket. Expecting a call from Aaron telling me to come inside and shower, I glanced unenthusiastically at the screen.

  Ezra’s picture filled it, a crop of him staring with extreme seriousness into the camera while he had paintball goggles perched on top of his plastic helmet and pink paint splattering one cheek. My heart stalled.

  Ezra was calling me after days of silence.

  Why?

  Panic wrapped its icy claws around my lungs as I brought the phone to my ear and whispered, “Hello?”

  “Tori?”

  Ezra’s voice washed over me, soothing the open wounds in my soul. I’d missed his voice so much. I’d missed him so much.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, my panic unabated. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay.”

  More than just the words, he sounded fine, and that’s all it took for relief to flood me.

  “What about you?” he asked with a hesitant pause. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

  My mouth was open to speak, but I couldn’t say I was fine. Nothing was fine. Everything was wrong, broken, disintegrating as I desperately tried to hold it together. I’d promised myself I would save him, and I’d failed.

  I burst into tears.

  “Tori, what’s wrong?”

  I shook with sobs as anguish and guilt and regret pummeled me. “I’m so sorry, Ezra. I’m so sorry. I lied to you and I put everyone in danger and I knew it was important to tell you about Eterran but I—I was so afraid. I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t handle it.”

  “Tori—”

  “And then I dragged Aaron and Kai out here.” The words spilled out, trembling and barely coherent. “I thought I could do this, and I got their hopes up too, but it’s been a complete disaster and I—I—I screwed up everything, Ezra, and I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry you had to fight for me.”

  My hand tightened on the phone, pressing it hard into my ear. “I should’ve listened. You all told me it was impossible and there was no way to s-save you, but I didn’t want to believe it. I thought you guys just hadn’t tried hard enough, and that was stupid and wrong and just—just wrong. All I did was make everyone suffer more because I didn’t trust you and Aaron and Kai.”

  “That isn’t true. You have more trust in us than we deserve.” A rustle as he shifted the phone. “Tori, what’s been happening?”

  I rubbed my damp cheeks. “We went to Enright and found a lead and we followed it, and everything went up in flames. We’re all okay, more or less, and we’re coming home.” Gulping back another sob, I added quietly, “And so you don’t get your hopes up, we’re coming back empty-handed.”

  The line was silent as he absorbed that.

  “I know I’m being vague,” I mumbled miserably, “but the details … I think I should tell you in person. Is … is that okay?”

  “Yes,” he said without a hint of the disappointment and despair he must have felt at my failure. “That’s okay.”

  I closed my eyes tightly. “Ezra … I’m s—”

  “Stop apologizing, Tori. You’ve put yourself through hell for me, and you never should’ve had to do that.”

  “I had to try,” I whispered, and as I said the words, the weight on my lungs eased slightly. “It ended up being pointless, but I had to try.”

  “I should’ve been trying too.” An unexpected note of steel slid into his voice. “I’m sorry, Tori. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I’m ready to fight now too.”

  My eyes flew open, staring at the blank roof of the SUV.

  “So you can’t give up on me, all right? I need your help.”

  “You … you want to fight?”

  “I want to live. I’ve always wanted to live, but I have more reasons now than I did before.” A pause. “I don’t have any dreams for the future. I’ve never allowed myself to imagine a future. But I want to change that. I want you to be part of my future.”

  Throat closing, I clutched the phone. “Ezra …”

  “If whatever you went to Enright to do isn’t working, then get back here so we can try something else. I have a couple of ideas.”

  “You do?”

  “Mhm. Maybe your leads will help as well.”

  I grimaced. “Not unless you can tell me what place could be described as ‘north, west, Capilano, among the thay-tav, by the river.’”

  A short, disbelieving laugh escaped him, and the sound warmed my entire body.

  “We’re doing riddles now?” he asked bemusedly. “What does
thay-tav mean?”

  “No idea. It’s a demonic word, I think.”

  “Demonic?” A pause. “Thāitav? Is that the word?”

  “Oh … right, yeah.”

  “Eterran says thāitav means someone who’s died or ‘the dead.’ So ‘among the dead, by the river’ … and Capilano?” He muttered to himself. “Are we talking local spots? Because there’s a cemetery by the Capilano River in West Vancouver.”

  Gooseflesh prickled my skin from head to toe. North—a northern city. West Vancouver. A cemetery beside Capilano River.

  It couldn’t be. The Court couldn’t be in Vancouver.

  The Court … moves. He moves it where he wants it. If Havh’tan was right, then it could have moved to Vancouver—but why? Why on earth would the Magnus Dux move the ruling sect of the cult there? What was in Vancouver that would attract a cult?

  “Did I get it right?” Ezra asked.

  “Maybe—but don’t even think about going there! Do you understand? I need to tell you the rest—but once we’re back.” Pinching the phone against my ear with my shoulder, I yanked the handle on the side of my seat to straighten it. “I’ll explain everything once I see you, so please wait for us.”

  “All right.”

  “We’re in southern Montana right now—”

  “Montana?”

  “—but we’ll return as quickly as we can. Tomorrow afternoon, I think.” Scooching forward, I opened the glove box again. “I need to talk to Aaron and Kai and get everyone moving. Just hang on until we’re back, okay?”

  “I’ll be waiting. Stay safe, Tori.”

  “I will. I have to go. Bye for now, Ezra.”

  Only after I’d ended the call did I realize neither of us had brought up the text I’d sent him. My mouth quivered, but I shoved the hurt and anxiety away. This wasn’t the time for that kind of stuff anyway. Fierce hope burned in my chest again, and I wouldn’t let anything dim it.

  As I pulled the amulet-scepter tangle out of the glove box, my phone chimed. I tapped the screen, and my text conversation with Ezra popped up. A new message had appeared beneath my last text.

  I love you too.