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

by Annette Marie

My heart swelled until it choked off my air. Tears standing in my eyes, I shoved the car door open with my elbow.

  When I burst into the motel room, Aaron and Kai leaped to their feet in alarm. Justin, sitting at the built-in desk beside the tiny motel TV, gawked at me.

  “Guys,” I gasped. “I think I know where the Court is. We have to get back to Vancouver right away.”

  Aaron’s and Kai’s jaws dropped to match Justin’s.

  My hand clenched around the scepter’s handle, the amulet hanging from it. “And if we’re lucky, we can steal the cult grimoire out from under those bastards before they realize we’re coming—and before we sic every guild in the city on them.”

  After endless hours driving down endless highways, I should’ve been delighted to be back home. Aaron’s home, technically, but still home.

  We hadn’t made great time. Halfway across the Columbia River Basin, the SUV had blown a tire. Aaron and Kai had swiftly swapped it out for the flimsy spare, and we’d limped into a town, but between finding a service shop, waiting for it to open, and having the tire replaced, we’d lost several hours.

  But we’d made it, and I now stood in the center of the living room. Aaron and Kai stood with me, and together we formed a triangle, facing each other.

  “Ezra texted us an hour ago that he’d be out for a bit,” I said, bouncing my phone on one hand. “He wants to know when we’re back in town. Should I call him?”

  Aaron rubbed his stubbly chin. “Can we dump the reveal of the cult’s survival on him, then immediately drag him into their stronghold—or whatever we find in that cemetery?”

  “He said he wanted to fight.”

  “But he doesn’t know who or what we’re going up against.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek.

  “Let’s not risk it,” Kai murmured. “We almost lost him a week ago. That isn’t much recovery time.”

  Relenting, I nodded.

  Aaron brushed his hands together decisively. “Let’s gear up, then. The Court probably doesn’t know we’re on to them, but we shouldn’t waste any time. Who knows how long it’ll take them to pick up and move again?”

  Kai agreed, then hastened for the basement where Makiko had disappeared—to freshen up in the bathroom, probably—while Aaron marched up the stairs, heading for his room to change and weaponize himself. I watched them go, my chest tight and hands clenched. My only set of combat clothes was in my suitcase in the SUV, and as for weaponizing myself …

  Two alchemy bombs and Hoshi. That was all I had left to contribute.

  Swallowing the nausea building in my gut, I swept through the kitchen and out the back door. The chilly January air bit into my cheeks as I crossed the yard and passed through the open gate. The unhitched trailer we’d used to haul Kai’s and Makiko’s bikes dominated half the parking pad.

  Beside the trailer, the SUV was lit up, rear hatch open. Justin stood beneath it, sorting through his duffle bag to ensure he had all his stuff before heading home.

  He glanced up when I joined him. A purple bruise darkened one temple from his encounter with Daniel and Anand outside the Keys guild.

  “Hey.” He haphazardly folded a wrinkled shirt and tucked it in his bag. “I thought you were getting ready for battle with a demon cult.”

  I plucked the shirt out and refolded it. “I’m not sure I’m going.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Frowning at my folding job, I shook it out and tried again. “What good have I done this whole time? I’ll just get in their way.”

  Justin faced me, but I kept my attention on the shirt as I carefully smoothed the sleeves out.

  “I’ve been useless.” I tugged on the shirt’s collar. “I didn’t stop a single mythic we came up against—except for when I accidentally killed Russel. How awful is that? Hoshi has been more useful than me. I should just send her with the guys and stay home.”

  Sliding the shirt into his bag, I stared at my all too human hands. “You’ve been asking questions about whether I was qualified to do these things, whether it was safe or a good idea … I was never qualified. It was always a bad idea, and I just kept telling myself I could handle it.”

  “Tori,” he murmured.

  My fingers closed into tight fists. “You asked Aaron if I can play in his league. I can’t. I’m not a combat mythic or a bounty hunter. I’m just a bartender.”

  Justin sat on the bumper. “You know that’s bullshit.”

  My gaze snapped to him.

  “You don’t do things all neat and tidy, Tori. You’re a messy person. You storm around and shake things up and cause chaos. You’ve always been like that.”

  I frowned at him. “If that was supposed to be a compliment, it sucked.”

  “You didn’t neatly arrest anyone, but you found answers, escaped danger, and got your friends into and out of all that alive.” He grimaced. “I may have had several heart attacks along the way, but you survived it all.”

  “That was just luck, though. If anything had—”

  “Surviving by the skin of your teeth once is luck. Doing it over and over again is something else.” He squinted at me. “You know you aren’t useless, Tori. What’s the real problem?”

  I stared back at him, then sank down to sit on the bumper beside him. My chest had tightened again, familiar insecurity settling deep in my bones.

  “I wanted to be a mythic so badly,” I whispered. “I wanted to be special and kick ass and do things other people can’t do. But then I lost almost all the magic I’d collected, and I realized I can act like tough shit all I want, but when the cards are down, I’m just a human.”

  “So am I. Is that such a bad thing?”

  I twitched like he’d jabbed me in the ribs.

  “You could kick ass and do things other people couldn’t before you ever heard the word ‘mythic.’” He arched his eyebrows. “Magic doesn’t make you an invincible superhero. If I’m useless because I couldn’t stop Russel’s men, then so is Makiko. She was captured too.”

  He tilted his head back, staring through the hatch’s window at the evening sky. “When I joined you for this trip, I thought you’d need my protection. But you didn’t. You knew when to jump in—and you knew when to stand back and let your friends take the front line.”

  I frowned.

  “Are you worried you’d be endangering your friends by going with them to that cemetery? Or are you afraid you’re too human to be there?”

  My lungs constricted. “I don’t have any magic, Justin.”

  Twisting toward his bag, he dug inside it. When he turned back to me, he held his pistol by the barrel.

  “Then take this,” he said quietly. “And instead of being ‘just a human,’ you’ll be a tough-ass human with a gun.”

  I stared at him. “Are you, uh, allowed to loan that out?”

  He shrugged mysteriously. The cold handle pressed against my hand, and I realized I’d reached for it. My fingers curled around the grip.

  Headlights flashed at the end of the alley. Glancing toward the vehicle, Justin pushed to his feet. “That’s my ride.”

  I watched him collect his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he gave me a long, assessing look—then smiled. It was a familiar smile that had soothed my fears since I was sixteen.

  “Whether you go or not, Tori, I know you’ll make the best choice for you and your friends.”

  I clutched the gun, my voice muted by a surge of emotion.

  He started down the alley. “And if you need me, all you have to do is call. I can be a tough-ass human too.”

  I grinned through the tears filming my eyes. “I know it.”

  The car waiting at the end of the alley gave a short beep, and Justin waved as he hurried toward it. A car door opened and closed, then the vehicle pulled away.

  For a long moment, I studied the gun in my hand, then set it down in the back of the SUV. Riffling through our luggage, I found my combat belt. The alchemy bombs clinked as I wrapped the leather around
my waist and buckled it.

  Retrieving the gun, I weighed it in my hand, then slid it into the empty holster at my hip.

  My grin widened, baring my teeth. I heaved my suitcase out, shut the hatch, and sped back across the yard to the house. We had a job to do, and no time to waste.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Capilano View Cemetery was a twenty-minute drive from Aaron’s house—across the downtown core, through Stanley Park, over the Lions Gate Bridge, and into West Vancouver.

  As I climbed out of the SUV, parked in the cemetery’s small lot, I peered toward the out-of-sight harbor. How unbelievable—and infuriating—that the heart of the Court could be this close, and we’d had no idea.

  Darkness had fallen, and I checked for the flashlight clipped to my belt. With a final peek at my phone—no updates from Ezra, who was still out on whatever errand had lured him away from home—I switched it to silent and tucked it in the belt pouch that used to hold the Queen of Spades. In another pouch was the demon amulet, and hanging from a loop opposite my flashlight was the cult scepter.

  I didn’t have any real use for it, but you never knew when a stolen artifact might come in handy.

  Aaron joined me, adjusting the baldric on his shoulder. No zippered case this time—Sharpie was on full display. Black combat clothing covered him from head to toe, from his fireproof shirt and protective vest to his strategically padded leather pants and steel-toed boots.

  With near-silent footfalls, Kai circled the back of the vehicle. He was in full combat gear as well, his slim, SWAT-style vest loaded with throwing weapons and two katana sheathed at one hip. He’d added a black knitted hat for warmth, which only slightly detracted from his Absolute Badass Level.

  Makiko followed him, her delicate features somber. She’d tied her hair back in a high ponytail, which swung with each step, and a fitted black jumpsuit covered her like a second skin. Her only weapons were the two metal fans clipped to her belt.

  “Okay,” I whispered, glancing around the otherwise empty parking lot. “We need to find the Court’s … uh … hideout? Evil lair? Demon-worship temple? I dunno, but we need to find something here.”

  “We can skip over most of the cemetery,” Aaron murmured. “Too public and way too many visitors. Let’s head for the northern portion.”

  Via satellite view, we knew the northern reaches of the cemetery were heavily treed—an untouched forest that would eventually be chopped down to make room for more graves. Kind of a waste, I mused, as we jogged along a paved path, fields of flat headstones on either side of us. I didn’t want any beautiful old trees dying so my corpse could lie beneath mowed grass.

  “Hey guys,” I whisper-called. “When I die, put me down for cremation, ’kay?”

  “You’re not gonna die,” Aaron called back grumpily.

  “I just meant in general.”

  “Oh. In that case, fine—but I’m not doing the cremating.”

  “Why not? Isn’t that what a good pyromage friend would do?”

  He grumbled something under his breath.

  The cemetery grew darker as we jogged away from the developed sections. A wall of trees rose in our path, and we came to a halt. Plucking my flashlight off my belt, I shone it at the forest. Several types of conifers were jammed so tightly together that my light wasn’t penetrating more than a few inches into the foliage.

  “That’s … extremely dense,” I muttered. “Anyone bring a machete?”

  Kai shook his head. “Even if we could bushwhack our way through there, we shouldn’t have to. The cultists need access to the location too.”

  “It’d help if we knew what we were looking for.” Aaron scrubbed his hand through his hair. “This could take all night.”

  I cast a sidelong look at Makiko. “Can you just, like, fly up in the air and look around?”

  “Levitation is more draining than combat.”

  “Oh.” I puffed out a frustrated breath—then snapped straight as I realized we didn’t need Makiko to get an aerial view. “Hoshi!”

  She uncoiled from my back pouch. Undulating through the air as if it were as thick as water, she dipped her head to sniff at my braided hair.

  “Hey girl,” I murmured. “Can you help us out? Will you fly around this place, then come back and show me what you saw?”

  With a snap of her long tail, she soared upward, fading from sight as she went.

  Aaron and I headed one way to search for paths into the forest, and Kai and Makiko moved in the opposite direction. The minutes ticked by, and my skin prickled with growing nerves. The longer we wandered around, the greater the chances were that someone might notice our suspicious activity. Getting the cops called on us would be annoying, but a spy alerting the cult could be disastrous.

  As I squatted on my heels and shone my flashlight under the boughs of a conifer to check for a hidden path, Hoshi appeared in a swirl of endless tail and bobbing crystal antennae. She bumped her nose against mine and a dizzying maelstrom of images filled my head.

  “Whoa, whoa,” I gasped. “Slow down, Hoshi.”

  With an apologetic flicker of rose-streaked violet, she replayed her surveillance flight at a more sane speed. She’d soared over the trees, finding several dirt tracks and one gravel pathway. Trees, trees, more trees, a clearing with a small structure, then—

  “Wait, what was that last thing?”

  She showed me the image again: a vaguely gazebo-shaped structure constructed of gray stone, with a domed roof supported by pillars. It sat alone in a small clearing of overgrown grasses and weeds.

  “Well, hel-lo,” I breathed. “Guys!”

  Aaron had already backtracked to join me, and Kai and Makiko jogged out of the darkness.

  “There’s a mausoleum-ish thing back there,” I said, rising to my feet with Hoshi hanging off my shoulder. “All alone in a little clearing. Seems like a good place to check out.”

  Kai and Aaron nodded.

  I patted Hoshi’s nose. “Can you lead us there?”

  She nuzzled my palm, then undulated straight into the trees. Guess we’d be doing some bushwhacking after all.

  Thank goodness for all my leather clothes, otherwise traversing a hundred yards of woodland would’ve left me in a worse state than our recent battles. My flashlight flickered wildly as I wrangled past bushes and boughs with dead leaves clinging to them.

  Just when it seemed it would never end, I burst out into the clearing. The guys and Makiko tumbled out after me, and we spent a moment picking leaves and twigs out of our hair and clothes before focusing on the structure in the center of the treeless glade.

  Far smaller than the remains of the temple in Enright, it looked like a fairly generic stone monument with carved pillars, a peaked roof, and an octagonal base.

  Aaron and Kai followed behind me as I cautiously approached and shone my flashlight between the pillars. Several steps led to a raised floor, where a life-sized statue of an angel stood, weathered and crumbling.

  Her wings had broken off, leaving rough stumps running down the folds of her simple dress, and the delicate features on her upturned face were so worn down they were almost indiscernible, giving her a mask-like visage. She held a bronze chalice in one hand, the metal blackened with age, and her other hand was curled as though she’d once been holding a second item.

  Keeping on the grass, I circled the structure until I was facing the angel.

  “Look,” I murmured. “On her head.”

  Atop her flowing hair was a delicate stone crown with three points—just like the symbol on the Praetor’s tapestry.

  Gulping down my nerves, I placed my foot on the first step of the mausoleum. Hoshi clutched my jacket collar as though ready to pull me away. I braced for an explosion or spewing fire or some other horrific booby trap, but after twenty seconds, I relaxed and ascended the three steps. The others followed me.

  “This isn’t a recent structure,” Kai murmured, brushing his palm over a pillar. “I seriously doubt the cult
built this.”

  I studied the angel’s weathered face, a foot above mine with the short pedestal under her bare stone feet, then lifted my gaze to her crown. Eyes narrowing, I tapped a fingernail against one point, then tapped the side of her face, then poked at the crown again.

  “The statue is original,” I decided, “but I don’t think the crown is. It feels more like clay—like I could break it pretty easily if I tried.”

  “I think the cult might’ve broken the wings off, as well.” Makiko, standing behind the angel, touched one of the wing stumps. “The damage doesn’t look as old as the rest.”

  “That makes a twisted sort of sense,” I said. “Breaking her wings makes her a fallen angel—in other words, a demon. The Christian version, at least.”

  Aaron stepped to my side. “Then this is likely a cult-ified mausoleum. How—”

  “Cenotaph,” Kai interrupted.

  “Huh?”

  “A mausoleum has a body interred in it. This is a cenotaph—a monument.”

  Aaron shook his head. “Okay, how is this cenotaph going to lead us to the cult lair? Could there be an underground room again?”

  We all looked at the very solid stone floor.

  “Maybe there’s a secret entrance,” Makiko suggested. “Do you see a hidden button or lever?”

  Aaron peered around. “If this were a video game, there’d be a clue to solving the puzzle.”

  I shot him a withering look, then returned my attention to the angel. This was the part of the structure the cult had marked. My gaze drifted to the chalice she held—and a vivid memory of the Praetor raising a silver chalice hit me. There’d been chalices in the hidden room in Enright too.

  Grasping the angel’s stone shoulders for balance, I stepped onto the pedestal and peered into the bronze cup. The inside was far smoother than the outside—except for the bottom, where a geometrical shape had been carved, a spiky rune in its center.

  I dropped back to the ground, my face scrunched with displeasure. Of course it couldn’t be a nice, simple “open sesame.” Oh no, the cult had to make it all weird and creepy.

  “Theoretically speaking,” I began unhappily, “could blood be used to trigger a spell?"