Two Witches and a Whiskey (The Guild Codex: Spellbound Book 3)

by Annette Marie

  But nope, my foot continued to travel in its backward trajectory at the speed of about an inch per minute. The sorcerer pointed his new wand—thicker and carved with runes—at me and opened his mouth.

  Gunshots shattered my eardrums for a second time.

  Pistol held in a textbook cop grip, Justin fired at the sorcerer. The man lurched backward, shock splashing across his face before he toppled over. Paintball Guy stumbled and fell too, his skin white.

  The third mythic raised her hands in surrender—and the air behind her rippled. A shadowy form materialized out of the darkness and rain. The beastly creature towered over her, ten feet tall and covered in thick black fur, with lantern-orange eyes that glowed in a skull-like face framed by curling ram horns.

  A fae. A nasty fae.

  Bigfoot loosed a horrific roar. Oh shiiiit. Even if I could use it—which I couldn’t, since I was stuck in magical slo-mo—my little Queen of Spades card was no match against this thing.

  Justin went rigid at the sight of the monster, but no brother of mine was coward enough to flee, even when facing a giant, shaggy, skull-faced beast with monstrous yellow teeth. He swung his gun toward it and emptied his magazine into the creature’s chest.

  The fae didn’t even notice. It lumbered forward, snarling.

  All at once, my movements snapped back to normal—and my body tried to complete every order my brain had sent, all at once. I flailed like a wacky inflatable tube man and fell backward, landing on my butt—but at least the spell had worn off.

  Just in time for Bigfoot to charge us.

  “Llyrlethiad!” I screamed.

  Justin’s final shot drowned out my voice, and for a second, I feared the fae lord might not have heard me.

  Alien power rushed through my body—and the drizzling rain morphed into a torrential downpour. As the world turned into a silver blur of plunging water, a shape coalesced out of the liquid.

  Gargantuan serpent coils twisted through the sheeting rain, looping around me, Justin, and Sin—still trapped in the purple bubble. The leviathan’s horned head, fifteen feet above the sidewalk, glistened as it looked down on the puny witch and her Bigfoot familiar.

  I stayed parked on my butt in the rapidly deepening puddles. What was the point in moving? First off, Llyrlethiad’s power was flooding through me in dizzying waves, and my soul felt like it was being pushed out of my body by the magical force buzzing under my skin.

  And second, I’d summoned a giant-ass sea god into a downtown street, and that felt like a much bigger deal than when the fae had been crammed in my apartment, breaking my walls.

  Witch lady took a good long look at said sea god, then did the only reasonable thing she could do—she turned tail and ran like her life depended on it.

  Her familiar, however, didn’t flee. It bared its teeny yellow fangs at the leviathan—yes, I’d recently called those fangs humongous, but it’s all a matter of perspective.

  Llyrlethiad pondered his opponent, then lunged. Whatever Bigfoot had been planning to do, it never got a chance. The serpent’s massive jaws engulfed the other fae’s head and shoulders, and the sea god lifted the struggling beast into the air. He chomped a few times, bones popping and crunching, then spat the mangled body onto the pavement.

  My stomach crawled into my throat and I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep it down.

  While the serpent had been chewing on his opponent, Paintball Guy had dragged the wounded sorcerer to his feet, and the two of them hobbled into an alley. I had zero desire to chase them down.

  The torrential rain continued, flooding the street. Llyrlethiad’s pale eyes turned back to his fallen fae opponent, and the deepening water began to spin around Bigfoot. More water pulled into the spiral, and the fae’s body disappeared into the whirlpool.

  With a splash, the maelstrom dispersed and the water settled. Bigfoot had vanished, gone without a trace.

  Despite my dizziness, I pushed to my feet. My mental approximation of Llyrlethiad’s power readjusted from red-zone ultra-boss to … I didn’t even know, but it was scary as hell.

  Over the sound of pouring rain, the wail of police sirens reached my ears. Oh hell. How was I supposed to explain a giant sea serpent to a bunch of coppers?

  As though hearing my thoughts, Llyrlethiad’s ivory gaze moved across me, then fell on Sin in her spell bubble. Power surged through me, heating the hidden fae runes on my skin. The weird purple bubble popped, and Sin landed on her feet, wobbled, then fell on her knees.

  A sudden increase in the deluge turned everything to sheeting water, then the rain lightened to a gentle shower. The serpent had vanished too.

  My knees trembled but I stubbornly locked them. I was cool. I was good. Dizzy, but good. No fainting from this girl—not again.

  The sirens were rapidly drawing closer. Justin holstered his gun, then extended a hand to Sin. She grasped it and lurched to her feet, her face bleached of color. Justin was even paler, his eyes huge and white all the way around.

  “Are you two okay?” he asked, his voice only a little unsteady. My brother was tough as shit. My first magic experience had been way tamer. One little fireball. Nothing compared to all-out mythic warfare and a sea god.

  Before he could say anything else, two cruisers skidded around the corner. They slid to a halt beside us, splashing water over my calves, and four officers leaped out.

  “What happened?” one of them barked. “Dawson, are you injured?”

  “I’m fine,” Justin answered. With a warning look I understood to mean, “Say nothing,” he hastened to the officers and spoke in a low, rushed voice. Two cops pulled their guns and started down the alley where the injured rogues had fled, while another got on his radio to call for backup.

  I gulped down that sickly post-adrenaline feeling. “Are you all right, Sin?”

  She heaved a deep breath. “Yeah. That spell wasn’t pleasant …” She glanced at Justin. “What should we tell him?”

  “Nothing,” I muttered, watching my brother. He knew about magic from his police work, but he didn’t know I knew. Safer to keep it that way. “We were in the wrong place at the wrong time. We don’t know anything about what happened.”

  Her eyebrows rose, and she lowered her voice. “Even though the rogues were obviously targeting you?”

  I nodded. All the more reason not to involve Justin. I was already in over my head in mythic business, and I didn’t want to put his life—or his job—at risk.

  As blaring sirens announced the approach of more cops, Justin returned to us. “I need to take your statements, then I’ll drive you home.”

  My statement? Sure, no problem. I’d just make sure not to mention that I’d summoned the giant sea serpent, that those people had been targeting me, that they were rogue mythics … or that I suspected they were members of the notorious Red Rum guild.

  Red Rum knew I had their fae lord—and they wanted him back.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I stirred out of a daze when the car door slammed. Blearily, I realized we were parked at the curb of a familiar street. Aaron’s house. Right. That was the address I’d given Justin after he’d loaded Sin and me into the back of his cruiser.

  Justin circled the car and opened my door. I dragged my exhausted limbs out, relieved to see lights glowing inside the house. As I wobbled upright, Sin skooched across the seat toward the open door.

  “Justin, will you take Sin home?” I asked before she could get out.

  “I thought this was Sin’s place?”

  “No, this is Aaron’s house.” I shrugged. “I’m sure Sin would rather go home than …”

  “Than hang out at your boyfriend’s?” he finished for me, missing my flinch at the word “boyfriend.” He ducked to look into the car. “Want a ride, Sin? Where do you live?”

  Her face reddened at his smile and she mumbled a weak protest. I nudged Justin with my elbow and winked. Pulling a face, he closed the door on Sin, trapping her in the cruiser. She glared at me through the
glass.

  “You okay, Tori?” he asked as I stepped toward Aaron’s front walk.

  I shrugged. Honestly not the scariest thing I’d faced these last few months.

  His brow furrowed, and I remembered I was supposed to be ignorant of the existence of magic. I hadn’t brought up the attack or the fantastical occurrences beyond vaguely describing the encounter in my statement, so I didn’t know what he thought of it all.

  “Uh,” I blurted, backtracking. “I mean, that was all … really terrifying. And I thought I saw some, uh … some really weird shit.”

  Frown deepening, he squinted at my face. I tried to hold my expression of bewildered anxiety, but he wasn’t falling for it. Why did my brother have to be intelligent?

  “We can talk about it later,” he muttered. “I need to get back and finish my report. Will you be okay? Would you rather stay at my place?”

  “I’ll be safe here. Aaron and his roommates are big tough guys.”

  Justin glanced at the house. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Yep. And thanks for chauffeuring Sin.” I arched an eyebrow. “By the way, she thinks you’re hot.”

  He choked, a faint blush creeping above his neatly trimmed beard. Muttering something under his breath—all I caught was “inappropriate” and “timing”—he got into his cruiser. Starting the engine, he waited for me to go into the house.

  Purse over my shoulder and umbrella in hand, I trudged to the front stoop. The door was unlocked, so I threw it open and stepped inside, waving at Justin. The car rolled away. At least I didn’t have to worry about Justin freaking out about Sin being a mythic. When the officers were completing our statements, she’d produced a normal driver’s license, sans MID number. Handy trick, that.

  “Tori?”

  I turned.

  Ezra stood in the hallway that led past the living room, his brow furrowed over mismatched eyes. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  His meltingly smooth voice washed over me like sinking into a hot bath after a bad day. I took three long steps, arms already reaching. He swept me into his embrace and I pressed my cheek against his soft blue t-shirt. Our first hug, shared in an apartment building hallway, had been phenomenally awkward, but it had somehow evolved into something special between us.

  “I’m okay,” I said into his chest. “Sin and I went to get sushi and we were attacked by mythics. Red Rum rogues, I think.”

  “What? Shit.” Hands shifting to my upper arms, he stepped back to scrutinize me for injuries. Seeing none, he pulled me into the living room and urged me onto the sofa. “Aaron and Kai won’t be back for a few more hours. They made a last-minute trip to Victoria to investigate a grimoire that might include the fae-binding ritual.”

  Noticing how quiet it was, I glanced around the cluttered room. The TV was off and no music played on the speakers, but the acoustic guitar from Ezra’s bedroom was leaning against the sofa. Shrugging my purse off, I set it and my umbrella on the coffee table, knocking a stack of vintage car magazines onto the floor.

  Ezra perched on a cushion beside me. “What happened?”

  I described the encounter. Halfway through, I remembered my sushi and fished it out of my oversized purse. Skipping over the silvery fae creature—I wanted to run that particular weirdness past Zak first—I told him the rest as I cracked open the container and offered it to him. He picked out a California roll and stuffed it in his mouth.

  “Do you think they were searching for you?” he asked after I’d finished. “Your brother mentioned suspicious activity in the area. I wonder if Red Rum had a way of detecting the fae lord’s visit last night.”

  “The timing fits. Do you think they can track me because of the fae magic?”

  “It’s possible. I don’t know much about Spiritalis.” He patted the pockets of his loose black sweats, then rooted around the coffee table until he uncovered his phone. “I’ll fill Kai and Aaron in on what happened.”

  Munching sushi, I watched him bring the phone to his ear. His dark curls were messier than usual, the sexy scruff on his jaw thicker than his normal barely-more-than-a-five-o’clock-shadow. His t-shirt was the kind of old, worn, ultra-soft cotton I saved for PJs, and he was barefoot. Lounge-Ezra. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him this casual before.

  Remembering what Sin had said, I thought back and realized this might be the first time I’d been alone in the house with him.

  He finished the call, his forehead creased. “They’re coming back as soon as they can, but the ferry ride is an hour and a half.”

  “It’s fine.” I stifled a yawn. “No one followed us, and as long as I stay indoors—” Another yawn interrupted me.

  Ezra caught the empty sushi container as it tipped out of my limp hand.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m so tired. The fae’s magic completely wipes me out.”

  “I can imagine.” Still radiating worry, he collected the garbage and carried it into the kitchen. Returning, he tugged a throw blanket free from between two cushions and draped it over me. “Your clothes are damp. Do you want something dry?”

  “I’m good.” I snuggled into the blanket, thinking longingly of his bed upstairs. My first time sleeping over, he’d offered me his room—mainly to prevent an argument between Aaron and Kai—and since then it had become my standard bed-away-from-home.

  Realizing Ezra was still standing, I tugged a pinch of his pants. “Sit down. Don’t just hover like an anxious mother hen.”

  He sheepishly dropped onto the sofa. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

  “Too tired.” I yawned again, then slid the tie out of my hair, loosing my curls to let them dry. “Did I interrupt you? What were you doing before I barged in?”

  He glanced at the guitar. “Nothing.”

  “Do you play?”

  A shrug.

  I flopped more comfortably into the cushions. “That’s fine. Collecting instruments you don’t play just to carry them around the house is perfectly normal.”

  He gazed at me seriously. “I thought about collecting pianos instead.”

  My mouth twitched. I frowned to keep from smiling.

  “That seemed too challenging,” he added somberly. “Even a piano with wheels is awkward to move around.”

  “Why not harmonicas?” I suggested, my voice cracking from the effort not to laugh. “Easy to carry.”

  “They don’t look as cool.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Maybe I should collect tubas. Tubas are cool, right?”

  The mental image of him waltzing around the house with a tuba was too much. A snort escaped me and I tried to suck it back in—and burst into snickers instead. His grave expression cracked into a grin, and I vowed that someday I would make him laugh first.

  I nudged his ankle with my toes. “Play something.”

  Hesitatingly, he picked up the guitar and settled it on his lap. Plucking a few strings, he tilted his head shyly. “I don’t usually play for people.”

  A flutter danced through my middle. “Will you play for me?”

  He looked down at the instrument. The frets squeaked under his left hand, and he plucked a few strings with his right. A melody emerged, then stuttered. Beginning again, he skimmed through a few tunes—playing a familiar chorus, then the solo from a popular song, then a snippet of a recent radio hit.

  Not bad, but having an audience was making him uncomfortable. Pulling the blanket closer, I closed my eyes so he might feel less like he was performing.

  He paused, and I could feel his gaze on me. The strings squeaked again as he repositioned his hand. A moment of silence.

  A soft waterfall of notes poured from the strings in a delicate melody. As more notes joined the measured rhythm, I cracked my eyes open, unable to believe he could coax that much music from a single instrument.

  One hand slid up and down the guitar’s neck, his strong fingers flexing as he pressed into the frets, sharp tendons running from his knuckles to wrist. His right hand h
overed in front of the wooden body, his fingers dancing over the strings. As the haunting melody built, he thumped the heel of his hand against the guitar body, adding a hollow drumbeat to the strumming cascades of notes both sharp and soft.

  “Beautiful,” I breathed, utterly mesmerized.

  He ducked his head, embarrassed, and the notes trailed into silence.

  “How long have you been playing?”

  “A long time.” Cradling the instrument on his lap, he plucked through a swift scale. “I enjoy it. It’s calming. Like meditation.”

  “Thank you for playing for me,” I whispered.

  He moved his head in a slow nod. Now I understood why his first attempt had been so stilted; he’d played popular music, something impersonal. I didn’t know why he’d chosen to share a piece he truly enjoyed, but I was touched he had.

  “Ezra …” His name came out in a strange croak.

  He shifted on the sofa to look at me. “What’s wrong?”

  I coughed, not sure what I’d intended to say, and asked a different question instead. “Do you really think everything will go back to normal?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The MPD investigation … my job …” I bit my lip. “I don’t see how it could work.”

  “Even if you can’t work at the guild, it won’t change anything with us. You’re our friend, Tori.”

  “Right.” I smiled wanly. “Of course.”

  He twisted further to see my face. His mismatched eyes, one warm brown like melted chocolate, the other pale as ice and ringed in black, swept over me. “You can’t believe it, can you?”

  My hands tightened around fistfuls of the blanket.

  Facing forward, he strummed a few chords. “I didn’t believe it, either. Not at first. It took a long time for me to trust Aaron and Kai … to trust they wouldn’t give up on me.”

  I fought the urge to tense. Ezra, more so than the other two, never spoke of the past.

  “I didn’t get it until a year after I first met them.” His voice dropped to a murmur. “I’d assumed our friendship was temporary, that sooner or later they’d come to their senses, wonder what they’d seen in me, and that’d be it.”