Chapter 12

Our foursome was down to three, and every step I took away from Makiko's secret condo made me wish even more that Kai was still with us.

Aaron walked ahead of me, a black beanie covering his copper hair and Sharpie hanging down the center of his back; its silver pommel peeked above the collar of his coat, and the bottom of the sheath stuck out from beneath the hem. Ezra trailed behind me, wearing a ball cap pulled low to shadow his pale eye and scarred cheek, watching everything from beneath its brim. I strode along the sidewalk between them with my hood pulled up. Robin's gray backpack hung off my shoulders, stuffed with the cult grimoire, our customized summoning ritual, and the case with Nazhivēr's blood.

My combat belt was around my waist, hidden under my jacket, but the back pouch remained empty. Hoshi hadn't returned.

We didn't know yet where we'd build a new summoning ritual, or even where we'd hide out tonight, but like Kai had said, none of that mattered without Robin. Though we had the ritual and instructions, we weren't Arcana mythics. Only sorcerers could build working sorcery arrays.

So our destination? Robin's apartment.

It was a risk. Odin's Eye knew about her involvement, and they were probably hunting for her too. However, unlike me and Aaron, Robin hadn't listed her real address in the MPD database. She might be hiding at home, and that gave us a chance to beat the bounty hunters to her.

At least, that's what I told myself as we left the high-end Coal Harbour neighborhood and entered Gastown, the always-bustling tourist area where I'd once attempted to land a waitressing job. Old-fashioned streetlamps glowed cheerily as we followed the redbrick sidewalk past quaint historical buildings.

As we stopped at an intersection, waiting for the light to change, I noticed a café with an empty sidewalk patio, the yellow umbrellas folded up. Inside, a waitress carried a tray of food past a brightly lit window.

That café was the last restaurant I'd applied to, where the manager had revealed that no one in downtown Vancouver would hire me.

As I'd been standing outside the door in despair, a paper with three mythic job postings had blown into my face—and one of the postings had been for the only guild in the city that would've considered hiring a human out of the blue, on a day when Clara had been so desperate for help that she'd overlooked my paperwork in favor of a trial shift.

That was some next-level luck. Maybe some would call it fate. Like with Sabrina's tarot cards, there was magic at work in this mundane world that I didn't comprehend. That maybe no one comprehended.

But choice was more powerful than fate.

I'dchosen to read a piece of garbage, discovering the job listings. I'd chosen to venture into a bad neighborhood. I'd chosen to accept a trial shift.

And I'd stuck around. Every time things got messy, got ugly, got scary, I'd chosen to stick it out.

Now here I was, nine months later. The hot mess of a girl who'd thrown a margarita across three customers in a fit of temper had grown so much, changed so much, shaped by happiness and love as much as by fear and anguish.

I clasped Ezra's and Aaron's hands. Ignoring their questioning looks, I waited for the crosswalk light to change, then marched across the road.

Gastown's quaint buildings disappeared, replaced by utilitarian structures that grew increasingly dilapidated as we ventured into the disreputable Eastside. We wound through an alley and halted where it met a cracked sidewalk. Several blocks north of us was the Crow and Hammer, and a block south was Robin's apartment building.

"Do we split up to scout the neighborhood?" Aaron muttered. "Or stick together?"

I tightened my grip on their hands. "Together."

Aaron nodded and set out again. I finally released them so we could assume a more casual formation, trying to blend in with the sparse foot traffic—except the number of pedestrians was increasing. And they were all heading in the same direction as us.

Ahead, unusual light leaked past the three- and four-story buildings: red and yellow flashes, with a steady orange glow that tinged the dark sky.

The breeze shifted, and the potent tang of smoke hit my nose.

Ezra, Aaron, and I exchanged alarmed looks, then sped up. Not quite jogging, we raced to the intersection, sprinted across, and wheeled around the corner.

A huge red firetruck with lights flashing blocked our way forward. A large crowd of people and two news vans filled the street behind a temporary barrier. Beyond it, five more firetrucks were haphazardly parked on the road, and a group of firemen strode out of the building's smoky front entrance while others aimed heavy-duty hoses, thick streams of water raining down.

An apartment building was engulfed in fire. Black smoke billowed upward, disguised by the dark night, and angry flames leaped from the shattered windows.

"Oh my god," I whispered, my hands pressed to my mouth.

A gaping hole marred the building's face, as though a wrecking ball had demolished a third-floor unit. The ragged maw belched fire and smoke, and it didn't take an expert to guess that's where the inferno had started.

A fireman shouted a warning, and the watching crowd gasped as a balcony railing plunged three stories and crashed to the pavement. A moment later, the entire balcony broke away. It smashed into the ground, debris flying everywhere.

"Is that… Robin's apartment?" I asked numbly.

Ezra nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. My hands shook as I slid the flip phone from my pocket and dialed Robin's number. Instead of ringing, it went straight to voicemail.

"What if she's in there?" I turned to Aaron. "Could you…?"

He shook his head. "I can protect myself from burns, but I'm not immune to smoke inhalation."

Ezra stretched onto his tiptoes to peer over the spectators. "There are ambulances on the other side. Let's circle around and see if Robin and Amalia are getting treated."

Aaron and I followed as he backtracked up the street and cut into the alley. Several barricades prevented civilians from approaching the burning building's rear, but no firemen or police guarded them, so we jumped over and continued on. The worst of the flames were consuming the opposite side of the structure, and as we walked closer, I could hear the fire alarm blaring through a wide-open emergency exit.

Our steps slowed, and I glanced around anxiously for any sign of Robin, Amalia, or Zylas. Had they escaped out the back? Was Zylas the one who'd exploded the wall of their unit? What on earth had happened?

Drawing level with the rear door, I peered up the steps and into the hallway. Orange light flickered, but I couldn't see any flames as the black smoke twisted and coiled, thick and impassable.

I squinted. I could almost see something in the dark haze… something solid. Something moving.

With crunching steps, Ezra and Aaron joined me, and all three of us stared into the boiling blackness. The shape grew clearer—big, solid, steady. Whatever it was, the smoke didn't bother it. My pulse drummed in my throat.

A demon walked out of the smoke and fixed its crimson eyes on us.

I gaped in disbelief. A demon? But why? What was it doing in there? I'd seen this type before—it was the huge, stocky type with spines on its back, same as Burke's demon, but it couldn't be the same demon. That one had escaped this world when I'd killed Burke.

The air around Ezra chilled warningly.

"Well, well." A gravelly voice drifted down the alley. "Look what we have here."

A man with a full-on biker beard and an infernus hanging in plain sight on his chest walked toward us—and three others followed him, all big, burly, and clad in leather. I spotted a second infernus.

"We've been waiting for someone to show up," another male voice remarked, satisfaction oozing from every word.

My head snapped in the opposite direction. Four more men—two with those distinct silver pendants around their necks—strolled toward us from the alley's other end. We were trapped between them.

"Grand Grimoire," Aaron growled under his breath, naming the city's notorious Demonica guild.

"We were hoping to catch little Robin Page and her little demon," the first man sneered, "but this is even better. We get to take down the demon mage instead. Once in a lifetime opportunity, boys."

The mythics laughed.

Aaron shifted closer to me. "Don't try to fight the demons," he whispered. "The contractors are our targets."

"I've got to ask, though," the beefy contractor added. "How did you become a demon mage, Rowe? I didn't think there were any summoners left who could do it."

Ezra's arm brushed mine. "The champions will protect the contractors. We'll handle them. You—"

"Well, kid?" the mythic demanded. "Have anything to say?"

"Got it," I whispered, my hand drifting toward the holster on my hip.

The contractor's sneer returned. "Well, in that case—"

Aaron plunged his hand under the back of his jacket. Sharpie's hilt appeared as he yanked the sword free, the razor-edged point tearing through his jacket collar.

Crimson light flared over the three contractor's pendants, and the fourth contractor's demon lunged for us.

Aaron and Ezra charged up the alley, and I ran after them, paintball gun clutched in both hands. With the demon on our heels, we raced for the waiting mythics.

The two champions sprinted to intercept us, one of them brandishing a machete with water coalescing around the blade. Without breaking stride, Aaron flicked his sword.

The champion, still ten feet away, burst into flame.

Screaming, the man dropped his weapon and threw himself onto the ground, trying to smother the flames.

If the situation hadn't been so desperate, I would've stopped to gape at Aaron. I'd seen him throw fireballs, create moving inferno walls, and engulf himself in flames, but I'd never seen him light another human being on fire like that. I shouldn't have been surprised. He was highly skilled at discorporate ignition. He could light anything on fire.

He'd merely chosen not to turn people into flesh torches—until now.

As the burning man collapsed, Ezra blasted the other champion off his feet with wind. I aimed my gun past the aeromage's shoulder and fired a shot at the nearest contractor. The yellow ball flashed across thirty feet and splattered all over the man's chest.

He grinned. "We know your M.O., witch!"

Cold rushed through me. The Odin's Eye mythic I'd shot had been immune to my sleeping potion too. They knew to dose themselves with an antidote before battle.

Baring my teeth, I unloaded the clip, firing all the shots into his face. He roared in agony, reeling back and clutching his eyes.

Ezra yanked me off my feet—just as an inhumanly long, muscular arm swung at me from behind, so close I felt the wind of its passing.

One demon—belonging to the contractor I'd blinded—wasn't moving, but the other three had caught up to us. Aaron slashed with his sword, tearing the nearest demon's stomach open, but it didn't even flinch. Its fist smashed into his chest, knocking him clear off his feet.

Ezra clapped his hands together, then swept his arms out. A hurricane-force gale erupted from him, shoving the heavy demons back several steps. Grabbing my hand, he bolted away. Aaron was back on his feet, and sword in hand, he followed on our heels—but the thundering steps of the demons were right behind us, and the contractors whooped gleefully as we fled.

My legs pumped, thighs burning. If we faltered, we'd be dead. Three demons were too many, and Aaron's fire wouldn't stop them.

"This way!" I yelled, wheeling left into a narrow gap between buildings.

Aaron and Ezra careened after me, the latter ducking a demon's snatching hand. I seized a smoke bomb and chucked it over my shoulder. It shattered behind us.

"The fire escape!" Aaron called.

A rusting fire escape clung to a brick wall twenty yards away, the ladder retracted with only a few rungs hanging below the second-floor platform. We sprinted toward it, and Ezra grabbed my waist. As he threw me upward, orange fire burst off Aaron's sword.

I caught the bottom rung of the ladder and heaved myself up with an extra push from Ezra. Aaron sent an inferno blasting into the haze of my smoke bomb—and a demon charged out of it, skin blackened from the fire. The damage wasn't slowing it down, nor was the fact that its contractor was out of view.

"Aaron!" Ezra shouted.

The pyromage turned and ran at Ezra, who cupped his hand to form a foothold. He launched Aaron upward, and I scrambled higher on the ladder as Aaron caught it with one hand, his sword in the other. He pulled himself up.

Ezra leaped, grabbing the bottom rung. He started to draw himself up—

The demon grabbed his ankle. It yanked, and Ezra clamped his arms around the ladder rung, holding on for dear life.

Aaron thrust his hand out. The demon's head burst into flame—but it didn't release Ezra. It didn't react at all and kept dragging down on Ezra's foot. The fire escape creaked, metal groaning.

Laughter rang out. Shadowy shapes appeared in the fog—the rest of the Grand Grimoire team.

With no better idea, I plucked my brass knuckles out of their pouch, shoved them on my hand, and jumped off the ladder, plunging past Aaron and Ezra.

"Ori amplifico!" I screamed as I dropped.

My fist slammed down on the demon's broad shoulder, the momentum of my fall powering the strike. The amplified force smashed the demon into the ground.

I landed on top of the beast and launched up again so fast my head spun.

"Get her!" someone shouted.

"Tori!" Ezra yelled.

He'd pulled himself up the ladder, and with one elbow hooked over a rung, he leaned down, arm outstretched.

I leaped, reaching for his hand. He caught my wrist, and pain burned through my shoulder as he hauled me off my feet. With impossible strength, he swung me up, and Aaron caught me around the waist, pulling me against the ladder beside him.

A flash of gold light whipped past our heads and hit the wall in a burst of sparkles. The Grand Grimoire champions were attacking us.

We scrambled up the ladder and jumped onto the second-level platform. As another blast of magic ricocheted off the metal railing, Aaron smashed a window with the pommel of his sword. Knocking the glass out, he dove through.

I swung over the sill into a dingy bedroom, and Ezra vaulted inside after me. Together, we charged into an equally derelict living room that reeked of cigarette smoke. No one seemed to be home.

As Aaron unbolted the front door, metal clanged from the direction of the bedroom. The Grand Grimoire mythics were on the fire escape.

Aaron pushed me out of the apartment. We sprinted down the hall and through a metal door into a stairwell. Back down to ground level, along another hall, across an empty foyer, and out the main entrance.

We burst out onto the same street as Robin's apartment, two buildings down. Lights from the firetrucks flashed, and nearby, two ambulances sat with their back doors open, the paramedics talking to a handful of forlorn-looking evacuees.

I looked around wildly for the best direction to run. With any other guild, I would've run into the nearest group of humans, but I didn't trust the Grand Grimoire to hold back.

The three of us hesitated, unsure what to do.

"Tori!"

Waving frantically, a woman ran toward us from the far side of an ambulance, her face shining with perspiration and pale blond hair tied back in a short, messy ponytail.

"Sabrina?" I shrieked.

She flew into me, crushing my chest with a hug. "I'm so glad I found you! I wasn't sure where—the fire was the only clear sign—if I'd missed you—"

I pried her off and held her shoulders so I could gawk at her face. "What are you doing here?"

"This way, quickly!" She tugged on my arm to get me moving.

"What—" Aaron began.

"There's no time!" She hauled me into motion. "Come on!"

Aaron and Ezra ran after us as she led me farther up the street. Skidding to a stop, she plucked a key chain with a single key out of her pocket and held it out.

When I just stared, she shook it urgently. "Take it! Escape!"

"Esc—" Breaking off, I realized we'd stopped beside an old white car with rust around the bottom of the doors. "But—"

She stuffed the key into my hand. "They're coming. Look!"

I looked over my shoulder. A group of burly men was silhouetted against the flashing lights, clustered in the middle of the street. One of them pointed in our direction, and the whole group broke into a run.

Heading straight for us.

"Get in the car!" Aaron barked, plucking the keys from my hand. He raced around the front bumper and yanked open the driver's door.

Ezra opened a back door and dove in. "Tori!"

Tears spilled down Sabrina's cheeks. She pushed me toward Ezra's open door. "Go, Tori. Please—please be safe!"

The engine rumbled to life. Ezra grabbed my arm, pulling me backward.

"Sabrina," I babbled frantically, "what about y—"

"I'll be fine. Go!" Turning, she dashed into a nearby alley.

As she vanished in the darkness, Ezra hauled me into the car. I sprawled across his lap, and with the door still hanging open, Aaron hit the gas. The tires squealed and the car shot forward.

Ezra caught the flapping door and slammed it shut. With my legs across his lap, I pushed myself up, peering out the back window.

The Grand Grimoire team stood in the center of the road, watching us escape. There was no sign of Sabrina.