Chapter 18

I felt so much better. Really fantastic. My whole body was numb and a little chilled, and damn, I was enjoying it. Getting internally barbequed had not been fun.

Perched on the edge of a clinical bed in an otherwise nice bedroom, I waved cheerily at the healer's back as she exited through the open door. I waited approximately eight seconds, then bounced out into the hall. Following the sound of a rumbling male voice, I found a living room—or rather, the waiting room. Healers' houses were weird that way.

"Hellooo," I sang cheerily. "How are y—"

Aaron, Kai, and Makiko all shushed me. Scrunching my nose, I stuck out my tongue at them.

Blake was pacing at the other end of the room, his phone held to his ear. "Right …I appreciate your help. Yes, I'll do that. Take care."

He ended the call, then turned to the trio on the sofa. "Same thing. That's four guild members who hadn't heard anything about trouble in Enright or any teams being sent to Portland. It looks like my reports never made it to the rest of the guild."

"Who were you reporting to?" Kai asked.

"The fifth officer. I don't know him well. We've only met in person a handful of times."

I planted my hands on my hips. "The officer must be the mole, then. He sent an assassin after us."

An assassin who, despite having two mages hot on her heels, had disappeared right out from under their noses.

"The GM could be the mole for all we know," Aaron countered. He gave me a squinty once-over. "How're you feeling?"

"Really freakin' fine. Karen hooked me up with the good stuff." I twirled in a graceless pirouette and finished it with a karate chop. "I'm ready. Let's kick some cultist traitor ass."

Everyone stared at me.

"Where's Justin?" I asked, shrugging off their judgy looks. "Did he get some happy potion too?"

"Turns out he did have a concussion. Karen is still working on him, but she said he'd be good to go in an hour."

"That's good." I squinched my gaze in Blake's direction. "So how will we identify the cult mole in the Keys? If we find them, we can find the Praetor."

Blake rubbed a hand over his face and into his messy fauxhawk. "I can't uncover a mole by myself. My mentor, the second officer, has been with the guild for twenty years. He predates the Enright cult and has a real hatred for demons to boot."

"You trust him?" Kai asked.

"With my life." Blake raised his phone. "Let's see what he has to say."

As the terramage pulled up the officer's contact info on his phone, I dropped onto the sofa between Aaron and Kai—except it was a three-person sofa with three people already on it. I landed on their thighs, half-sinking into the gap between them.

"Budge over," I ordered.

Snorting, Aaron pressed into the armrest while Kai slid over until he and Makiko were nearly sharing the same cushion. I leaned back with a satisfied smile.

"I missed you guys," I murmured, slinging my arms over their broad shoulders.

Aaron bumped my side with his elbow. "I never went anywhere."

"Yeah, but when Kai isn't around, it's as though part of you goes missing too. You're like a lightbulb with half its glowy wire thing burnt out."

He shook his head. "That was almost poetic, then you ruined it."

"Meh, you know what I mean. You're gloomy without Kai."

Blake's phone rang on speaker.

"Russel here," a gruff voice answered.

"Russel, it's Blake. Are you in a private location?"

A pause. "I can be. One moment." Muffled noises, followed by a door closing. "Go ahead."

"Are you aware of my recent report about the discovery of an active sect of the Enright cult in Portland?"

"The Enright—" A garbled curse. "No, I was not aware. When did you report this?"

"Two days ago. I spoke directly to Anand, who said he'd send two teams to investigate immediately. I don't think those teams were ever sent. As well, information I reported about the guild that spearheaded the investigation was leaked back to the cult."

"How do you know that?"

"A demon mage from the cult referenced details from my report. I don't see how he could've gotten the information from any other source."

A sharp inhalation. "There's a demon mage in Portland? Right now?"

"Yes, sir. No ID yet. He isn't in the database."

"Have you reported this to the MPD?"

"Not yet."

I squirmed guiltily. We had quite a few reasons for not reporting the demon mage—starting with how the Crow and Hammer wasn't licensed for international bounty work and finishing with how we were hiding a demon mage of our own—but I didn't know Blake's rationale. Maybe it was the Keys' policy to report Demonica crimes only after the guild had gotten a shot at "the kill."

Russel breathed into his phone for several long seconds. "Blake, return to HQ as quickly as possible—and bring the other guild team that's investigating, if they're willing to come. I may need their testimonies."

"What about the demon mage? And the other cult members—"

"They aren't going anywhere. We need to deal with the information leak here first. I can't move our best teams into Portland to exterminate a demon mage without risking the cult finding out. Have you spoken to anyone else about this?"

"Not yet."

"Let's keep it that way. And"—his voice roughened with worry—"be careful, Blake. Depending on where the leak is coming from, this could be very dangerous."

"Understood. Be careful as well, Russel."

"I will. See you soon."

With a click, the line went dead. The terramage let out a long breath, and we all exchanged bleak glances.

"Will you come?" Blake asked. "If Russel wants your testimony, then he probably suspects the fifth officer."

"We need to discuss." I grasped Aaron and Kai by the wrists. "Let's go check on Justin."

They didn't protest as I hauled them out of the living/waiting room and down the hall, leaving Makiko and Blake behind. I didn't actually know where Justin was, so I led the guys into the room where the healer had examined and dosed me.

Closing the door, I leaned back against it. "This is bad."

They nodded in unison.

I lowered my voice to a whisper. "I mean, it's bad enough that the Enright cult is not only still active but somehow has a mole in the very guild that almost wiped them out. But the really bad part is we need a summoning grimoire, and—"

"—and finding one is about to get real complicated," Aaron concluded grimly.

My whole plan was based on the understanding that the cult had been wiped out. I'd come here to search for an abandoned grimoire, not a prized relic the cult would be actively protecting. Kai and Aaron—and Makiko, I supposed—were talented and deadly mages, but they alone couldn't safely take on a demon mage. Not without Ezra.

We might've been able to manage the Praetor and his little circle, but Daniel the Demon Mage had come from somewhere else—and was taking orders from someone else.

I pressed my hands to my face, a tremor running through me as icy despair drained the strength from my limbs. "We're so screwed. What are we going to do? Ezra won't last much longer, and with the Keys involved, there's no way to find a grimoire. We—we're just—"

A warm arm settled over my shoulders, and Aaron pulled me against his side. "We're just gonna have to figure out who's pulling the cult's strings, aren't we?"

I slowly lowered my hands, squinting up at him. "But—"

"Finding a dead summoner's grimoire was like searching for a needle in a haystack." A hard, decisive note edged Kai's voice. "But somewhere, there's a living person running this show. If we unmask them, we'll find their grimoire."

"We just have to make sure we get our hands on it before the Keys do," Aaron added.

I stared between them, still tucked under Aaron's arm. "But—"

"But what, Tori?" Kai's dark eyes fixed on me. "You don't think we'll let you give up now, do you?"

"Especially after you dragged us both out here." Aaron smirked down at me. "We've already got an invite to the Keys of Solomon guild. Let's use it to get at the guild mole—and through him, we'll find their leader."

"We can save Ezra and take down a cult." Kai smiled. "I like it."

My answering smile wobbled, tears pricking my eyes. This trip had been a frickin' rollercoaster ride of conflicting feelings, and I felt like a ping-pong ball being whacked between opposing emotional states.

"Where are the Keys' headquarters?" I asked. "Are we gonna have to drive all night again?"

"It's in Salt Lake City, as I recall. Utah," Kai added helpfully. "About a day's drive to the southeast."

I pretended like I'd known that, but when it came to US geography, my trivia skills were patchy at best. "So we'll be driving all night, then."

"We could …" Kai's thoughtful gaze drifted toward the out-of-sight living room. "But why drive when you can fly? I'll talk to Makiko."

He swept out of the room, leaving me blinking in confusion. Shaking my head, I leaned into Aaron, eyes closing tiredly. The buzz from the healer's potion was fading fast, and I really wanted a nap. Or better yet, a full night's sleep.

"We can't give up," I whispered. "We have to keep going …but what if we take too long? What if we're too late, and Ezra …Going to Salt Lake City will take us even farther away from him." Cracking my eyes open, I hesitated. "Should we tell him? That the Enright cult survived?"

Aaron was silent for a long moment. "There's a line between keeping secrets because the consequences of the truth scare you, and keeping secrets because you need to be beside someone when you share the truth."

I exhaled shakily. "You're right. That isn't a bombshell we can drop on him over the phone, especially when he's all alone."

"We'll fill him in once we're back—and we'll be returning with good news, right?" He flashed an encouraging grin. "Why don't you get a few minutes of rest?"

"Yeah," I mumbled.

Cold washed over me as Aaron moved away, taking his body heat with him. The door closed softly behind him, and I shuffled over to the bed and sat. My own words circled in my head.

What if we take too long? What if we're too late?

…he's all alone.

I pressed a hand to my quivering lips. Less than a week ago, Ezra had almost succumbed to madness. He knew his life was essentially over, and in this most painful, frightening, vulnerable time, I'd not only left him behind, but I'd taken his best friends with me.

If Ezra lost his hold and slipped away before we made it back …

He had to hold on. He had to survive until we returned, otherwise I couldn't bear it—couldn't bear failing him, couldn't bear taking his friends away in his final days, couldn't bear that I'd never found the right time to tell him how I felt.

Aaron's voice repeated in my ears. There's a line betweenkeeping secrets because the consequences of the truth scare you …

Whether he'd meant the words as a chastisement, I felt the sting anyway. I'd hidden so much, telling myself over and over that it wasn't the right time to divulge the truth—it wasn't the perfect time. And I'd kept on delaying, and delaying, and delaying some more.

And I'd hurt Ezra. I'd hurt Aaron. I'd probably hurt Kai too, though he hid his feelings better.

Why was I still hiding things from the people I loved? Was I afraid to trust? Did I lack faith in them, as Aaron had told me on our way to Enright when I'd revealed my feelings for Ezra?

Months and months ago, during my first tarot reading, Sabrina had told me that change waited for me, but it would be shaped by the fear in my heart—and a week ago, she'd reminded me once more.

Your past and your fears are still holding you back. And as she'd pulled the Death card from her deck yet again, her whispered warning: I think you need to tell him soon.

The same sickening fear I'd felt then swamped me, and I dug my phone out of my pocket. When I unlocked it, my messaging app was already open, displaying the string of unanswered texts I'd sent Ezra over the past two days.

I tapped to start a new message. My heart thudded against my ribs, a drumbeat to the chorus of panicked denials in my head. I should wait. I should tell him in person, face to face. This was the coward's way out.

But Aaron's wisdom. The consequences of the truth scare you.

But Sabrina's warning. You need to tell him soon.

Gulping back the shuddering anxiety, I typed three words and hit send before I could second-guess myself anymore. The message popped into the conversation history, immortalized forever in digital form. I'd done it. I'd said it …or, well, written it.

I didn't know how to feel. Was terror a normal reaction to something like this?

Holding my phone in both hands, I waited. Voices rumbled in the other room. A door opened and closed with a thump. Footsteps in the hall. More purposeful talking as the others planned our urgent excursion to Utah.

I held my phone, waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Eventually, Aaron tapped on the door. Opened it. Told me we were heading out in a few minutes. Was I ready? I should meet everyone in the living room right away. The door closed again.

I slid my fingers across the phone screen, swiping away the text app. Then I wiped the cold trails of tears off my cheeks, pocketed my phone, and got to my feet.

The consequences of the truth …they hurt like a bitch.