Druid Vices and a Vodka: The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Six

by Marie, Annette

  “I’ve never seen an artifact like that before. But if you give me the drawing, I can certainly look into—”

  She folded the paper and tucked it back into her pocket. “Tori? You had questions?”

  I snapped out of my daze. “Uh. Questions. Right.”

  My brain whirred like a truck spinning its wheels. I was here to ask about the same thing as Robin, but how was I supposed to do that now? It would look damn suspicious.

  Good thing I’d prepared a cover story—one that allowed me to tackle two birds with one stone. After my conversation with Zak about Ezra’s fate, I’d decided that the demon amulet wasn’t the only thing I needed more information on.

  I flipped my folder open. “I’m investigating a series of unsolved bounties on demon mages.”

  Naim’s expression turned sullen as he squinted at my stack of printouts from the MPD database—cold cases from across the west coast spanning the last twenty years. I’d printed everything that mentioned a demon summoner.

  “Certain sources and witnesses,” I went on, trying to sound pompous and official, “have suggested a summoner is creating demon mages using an artifact imbued with demon magic. What do you know about demonic artifacts?”

  “I’ve never created a demon mage,” Naim replied flatly. “I don’t know how it’s done, or if it requires artifacts.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m just looking for information.” I shuffled through my papers in a purposeful way. Robin watched curiously as I flipped past several pages with black and white photos of blurry-faced men. “You don’t know any—”

  She inhaled sharply.

  I glanced at her. She jerked her gaze up—away from my folder. “S-sorry,” she stammered, her face white. “Go on.”

  The page she’d been looking at featured a grainy photo, taken with a zoom lens, of two men talking. One face was clear, the other in profile. I had no idea what the photo was; I’d just printed a bunch of cases.

  Clearing my throat, I refocused on Naim. “You don’t know anything about how demon mages are created? I thought you were a big-shot Demonica expert.”

  He rubbed his hands together nervously. “Demon-mage creation is so rare, and the summoners who engage in it are so secretive, that there’s no standard procedure. Every demon-mage summoner has their own method. If you want to know anything about how a particular demon mage was made or if the summoner used an artifact, you’d have to ask the summoner directly.”

  “Like they’d talk to me.”

  “Precisely. That’s why no one knows. I’ve heard MagiPol doesn’t even know how it’s done.”

  “What can you tell me?”

  He studied me with dark, cold eyes. “In regular summoning, the demon is summoned into a circle, the boundary of which is impenetrable to the demon. In demon-mage creation, the demon is summoned into a human body.”

  Robin made a small, horrified sound.

  “The human body—or, some say, their soul—is the cage that traps the demon. It will either assimilate into its host or keep fighting to escape until it kills the fool that offered himself up for the ritual. When the human dies, so does the demon.”

  “That’s horrible,” Robin whispered, pressing her fingers to her mouth.

  “Wait.” Chills ran down my limbs. “If the demon is summoned right into the human, is there even a contract? Or is the demon simply trapped and it just … goes along with everything so it doesn’t die?”

  “I assume there’s a contract, or at least binding magic involved.” He shrugged. “As I said, if you want specifics, you need the summoner. No two demon mages are exactly the same—though they all meet the same end.”

  Shuddering at the reminder, I snapped my folder shut. “’Kay, well, thanks for nothing.”

  His mouth twisted and he dismissed me with a jerk of his chin. His attention returned to Robin. “Now, girl, where did you get your demon?”

  Robin rose to her feet. “If you learn anything about the artifact I’m interested in, or the demonic artifacts Tori asked about, let us know. You can reach us through the Crow and Hammer.”

  “Wait—you agreed to tell me if I answered your questions!”

  “You didn’t have any answers, did you? I expected more from a so-called expert.”

  Oh, burn. I mentally cheered her on as she gave him an even more coldly dismissive glance than he’d given me, then stepped around the coffee table. I hopped up and strode after her, leaving the ex-summoner spluttering in his recliner.

  Robin marched across the room to the door and pushed it open. I followed her into the stairwell, bummed to see that Mario and his pals had left while we’d been talking to Naim. So much for my Mario-original Caesar.

  The moment the stairwell door closed behind us, Robin deflated like a punctured balloon.

  “Was I too rude?” she asked in a small voice. “I should’ve been nicer. He was sort of helpful. I shouldn’t have—”

  “That was perfect.” I grinned. “He was a dick. You’re one tough cookie, Robin.”

  She blinked. “Me?”

  “You didn’t let him intimidate you for a second.”

  She blinked again. “Was he intimidating?”

  “Kind of, yeah. But still.” My gaze flicked to the pocket where she’d tucked her drawing of the demonic artifact. I opened my mouth—then closed it again.

  If she wanted the amulet, and I revealed I had it … Aaron and Kai’s warning repeated in my head. She wasn’t a pushover, and she’d played that summoner no problem. Plus, her demon was a super-scary murder machine.

  I couldn’t reveal the amulet to her. It was my best chance at saving Ezra, and I wasn’t about to risk it. She could take it from me—her and her demon. I had to keep it hidden.

  But maybe I could find out more without revealing I had it.

  “So, what’s that ancient infernus thing you’re researching?” I asked lightly as we headed down the stairs. “It looked interesting.”

  “I ran across it in an old grimoire,” she replied, equally blasé. “What about your demon-mage case? What got you started on an investigation?”

  “I’m just doing some legwork for Aaron and Kai,” I answered evasively. “It’s their job.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  We reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped. I gazed at her and she stared back, blue eyes unexpectedly piercing. Neither of us was willing to reveal anything about our “research,” and I didn’t know how to push her for more information without revealing why I needed to know.

  Shrugging, I stepped into the hall—and almost crashed into a familiar mythic.

  “Oh!” I forced a smile. “Hi, Izzah.”

  I had to hide my cringe, not because I didn’t like Izzah—I thought she was awesome—but because I had no answers for her about Kai, and I didn’t want to lie when she inevitably asked why he’d vanished.

  “Tori?” Her brow furrowed. “Wei, what are you doing here?”

  She’d traded her leather combat gear for a stylish blouse, tight black jeans, and tall boots. It wasn’t quite business-professional wear, but close. My gaze flicked past her to three more Odin’s Eye mythics, waiting politely while I blocked the hall—and behind them, almost unseen, was a bald head I recognized.

  Shane Davila pushed his round glasses up his nose as he examined me like a scientist with a sample under his microscope. Now I knew who her “meeting” had been with—and clearly, she’d dressed to impress. What did Shane want with Odin’s Eye?

  Either way, the last thing I needed was more attention from the bounty hunter.

  I gave the whole group a casual salute. “Nice to see ya. We’re just heading out.”

  “What were you here for?” Izzah began. “Tori—”

  Waving as though I hadn’t heard her, I strode down the hall. Quick footsteps told me Robin was right behind me, and I made a beeline for the exit.

  The petite contractor trotted to catch up. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nope.” I slowed my pace
as we reached the lobby. Izzah hadn’t followed us; she was probably saying her professional goodbyes to Shane. “It’s just that guy—the short, bald one at the back—is a famous bounty hunter and he was a dick to me at the pub the other day.”

  “A famous bounty hunter? What’s his name?”

  “Shane Davila.” Reaching for the front door, I glanced back at her. “Have you heard of—”

  With an earsplitting crash, the entire building shook like a wrecking ball had hit it. I staggered into Robin, almost knocking her over. As shouts sounded from deeper in the building, I gawked at the front doors, terrified it might be an earthquake and equally terrified it wasn’t.

  For a moment, the door was dark, nothing showing beyond the frosted glass. Then amber light lit up the parking lot—and blazed brightly. Glowing orange burst across the glass.

  I whipped out my Queen of Spades as the glass creaked, the frosting melting. Ripples ran across its surface. The pane bowed inward.

  The door shattered.

  “Ori repercutio!” I screamed.

  A wall of flame exploded into the room, hit the shimmering reflection of my artifact, and rebounded. Fire burst across the walls.

  As the flames died, Robin clutched my arm. “I thought you were a witch!”

  “Yeah, well—”

  Somewhere in the smoke haze, metal thunked and clattered, drawing closer. A shape appeared in the shattered window. Runes glowed across the familiar canine shape of a golem, its shark-like mouth ready to chomp down on squishy human flesh. It charged through the open threshold, glass crunching under its steel feet.

  I grabbed Robin’s arm and hauled her out of its path. It skidded on the slippery tiles and crashed into the desk, hundreds of pounds of steel crumpling the wood.

  “Out!” I yelled. “Get outside!”

  We needed room to maneuver if we were going to stand any chance against the golem. I raced for the door, Robin stumbling with me.

  “What about the people inside?” she gasped. “They—”

  “They’re combat mythics! They can take care of themselves!”

  I jumped over the broken glass and landed on the front stoop. Dragging Robin by the arm, I got three steps—and glimpsed something huge flying toward us.

  All my recent training saved our lives. I threw us sideways and the massive projectile flashed by so close the wind of its passing whipped my hair across my face. We hit the ground—and a deafening crash shook my bones. Shattered concrete spilled out of the brand-new hole where the guild’s front wall had stood seconds before.

  Then I saw what had created the hole. It wasn’t a projectile.

  It was a fist.

  A huge steel fist attached to a huge steel arm connected to a huge steel shoulder.

  The biggest hunk of metal I’d ever seen dragged its limb out of the wall and straightened to its full height. Twelve feet tall, broad and bulky, it looked like a cross between a steampunk Transformer and a medieval suit of armor. Giant runes glowed across it, their pinkish light competing with the firelight leaking from inside the guild.

  The gargantuan golem turned its featureless helmet toward Robin and I, sprawled on our backs, and raised an arm above its head. Its basketball-sized fist plunged toward us, and with a wall on one side of me and Robin on the other, I couldn’t even roll away as death whooshed down.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Robin’s terrified scream rang out—and red light burst from her chest. Crimson power streaked upward and solidified into the shape of her demon. He stood over us, arms raised.

  The golem’s huge fist slammed into the demon’s outstretched hands.

  His muscles bunched with inhuman strength as he braced against the impact. The golem bore down with the weight of steel, the momentum of its swing, and whatever magical force powered its movements. The demon sank lower, then collapsed to one knee, his metal greave hitting the pavement with a crunch.

  “Tori, move!” Robin yelled, scrambling backward.

  I rolled over and threw myself away from the demon and golem. The moment we were clear, the demon shoved backward, letting the golem’s fist smash into the ground.

  “A golem,” Robin panted wildly as her demon scooted after us on agile feet, staying between his contractor and the giant. “It’s huge. How is it so huge?”

  “Great question, but let’s worry about it later!” I whirled, fully intending to run like hell across the parking lot, down the street, and all the way back to the Crow and Hammer. “We need to—”

  I broke off, terror plunging through me.

  Waiting at the edge of the parking lot were three more canine golems, and behind them was a line of men—dressed in black, some in combat gear, faces covered with masks, hats, or handkerchiefs.

  “Take out the contractor first!” one of them yelled.

  The canine golems charged toward us, and behind them came three rogues, two raising artifacts as the third conjured water out of thin air.

  I unholstered my paintball gun. The CO2 canister popped with my first shot, and I unloaded six of my seven potion balls. The sorcerers keeled over, too slow to counter, but the hydromage shaped water into a shield that blocked my paintballs.

  Two out of three wasn’t bad—except the golems were still pounding toward us, their steel footsteps so loud it was like listening to a cutlery factory falling down a mountain. And I had no magic to defend against them.

  Robin’s demon streaked past me.

  He leaped over the golems like a champion pole vaulter, minus the pole, and slammed feet first into the hydromage’s chest. The man keeled over backward, hitting the pavement with sickening force.

  The demon leaped off his chest and straight into the nearest golem, ramming his bare fist into its side. With a gong-like boom, the steel panel caved in. Undeterred, the golem spun on the demon, metal teeth snapping. The demon sprang away.

  Behind us, the super-golem smashed another hole in the Odin’s Eye building.

  “Knock it over!” I yelled desperately—then remembered the demon wasn’t actually the one fighting. “Robin, use your demon to knock them on their sides! They have trouble getting up!”

  “Right!”

  Her demon launched at the golem again, twisted in midair, and landed on his back, skidding under the golem’s belly. His body coiled, legs pulling in tight, then he kicked upward with explosive force. His feet hit the golem’s underbelly and heaved it up and over. It crashed onto its side, limbs waving helplessly.

  “Whoa,” I breathed. “How’d you do th—shit!”

  Grabbing Robin’s arm, I pulled her backward—because while her demon had been distracting the golems, the remaining rogues had surrounded us. They spread out, magic sparking off them as they prepared their attacks.

  “Hoshi!” I cried desperately.

  The sylph burst from my belt pouch in a streak of silver. A gust of wind whipped across the parking lot, blowing debris into the mythics’ faces. Dust billowed everywhere, thick as fog.

  A furious shout—from behind us. I spun again.

  Izzah appeared in the dusty haze, twin daggers in her hands. She leaped forward onto one foot, spinning in an elegant twist as her blades wove through the air. Water coalesced around the weapons, trailing after them like sparkling ribbons.

  She spun like a dancer, her ponytail fanning out, and completed her move with crisscrossing slashes of her blades. A wide band of water shot outward, and it struck the cluster of rogues at knee height, blasting their legs out from under them. They howled in pain as they collapsed.

  Behind Izzah, ten members of Odin’s Eye streamed out of the burning building, diving past the hulking super-golem as it smashed another hole into the second floor. Fury burned in every face as they charged toward the rogues and remaining two canine golems. They met the rogues in a clash of magic and weapons, and it was immediately apparent why one group were feared bounty hunters and the other fugitive rogues.

  The problem was the golems, and as I eyed the remaining t
wo, the ground shook with a crashing footstep.

  The super-golem had turned away from the building. Fire spread through the interior, and smoke poured from the holes. The golem took a lumbering step toward the battling mythics.

  Oh hell. The waist-high wolfy ones were almost impossible to kill. How could anyone stop that giant? It wasn’t very fast, but it was huge and deadly. I slapped my hands over my pouches, knowing I had nothing useful. Disabling it would require big, powerful, scary magic. Not my little trinkets. I needed something crazy, something—

  My hand landed on my jean pocket, a square lump tucked inside.

  Robin gasped. I jerked my head up—and saw the super-golem’s arm whipping toward us.

  Her demon shot out of the dust haze, grabbed us both, and sprang straight up. The swinging steel limb whipped underneath our feet. We plunged down. The demon hit the pavement and leaped again, propelling us out of reach. He landed in a skid and spun to face the golem, his arm crushing my ribcage.

  The super-golem plodded after us. Upside: it was no longer advancing on the Odin’s Eye mythics. Downside: we were screwed.

  “Robin,” I wheezed as her demon released us. Staggering for balance, I grabbed my belt buckle. “Can your demon get me up onto the golem’s head?”

  “Its head?” she squealed shrilly as the golem stomped closer. “Why—”

  “Can you?” I pulled the buckle apart and lowered my belt to the ground. “Yes or no!”

  Her frightened gaze flicked to her demon. “Yes, but—”

  The golem drew its arm back. Robin jumped in front of us, and her demon grabbed her hand—simultaneously seizing me around the waist with his other arm.

  “Ori eruptum impello!” Robin yelled.

  Silver light burst out from her in an expanding dome. It whooshed gently over me and her demon—and hit the golem’s oncoming fist. The force of her spell halted its attack, metal creaking and groaning from the sudden loss of momentum.

  The demon swept me against his side and leaped. He landed on the golem’s outstretched fist and sprinted up its arm to its shoulder. I jammed my hand in my pocket and pulled out the small square of purple fabric.