Chapter 9

Showing my face in public in Vancouver had never been this nerve-racking. I hated Kade even more, if that was possible, for popping up in my town again and making me wary of every shadow that crossed my path.

Before I could join Darius, I needed to swap out my clothes. The precinct's training room had a perpetual stink of newbie sweat that I was sure my outfit had absorbed, not to mention the dusty smudges my white t-shirt had acquired when Tim had flattened me against the training mat. And I kept thinking I could smell the sulfur from my impromptu Krakatoa warp. That was impossible and probably just a product of my overactive imagination, but it was annoying enough that I wanted to shower and change.

I cabbed it to my condo, not only to save time, but also to prevent a certain follicular-challenged psychopath from stalking me through downtown again. If I ever got that bastard behind bars, I'd add my taxi receipts to his tab.

Waving to the doorman on my way past, I rode the elevator up, let myself into the suite, and sighed with relief when I found it empty. Not that I didn't miss my favorite mustachioed human, but Eggsy would've delayed me with a half-hour's worth of congenial discussion about weather, food, and "those young-uns" skateboarding in front of the building. Trevor Eggert was only thirty but had real "grandpa shakes cane at cloud" energy.

Locking the door and dumping my keys on the kitchen island, I stripped off my clothes and made a beeline for the shower. After a hot and speedy scrub, I was out again and de-nuding myself. As I pulled on a hunter-green t-shirt and tugged the hem down over the waist of my jeans, a clatter from the living room pulled me up short.

Adrenaline flashed through me. It was Eggert, I told myself, not Kade. I crept toward the half-closed bedroom door, ready to slam a Blackout warp into the mind of whoever was on the other side if their face didn't come fully equipped with a well-groomed crumb catcher.

A thought popped into my head—the realization that I could, in fact, sense minds. I'd only ever used that ability to pinpoint people for warp-specific purposes, but maybe…

Squinting, I tried to focus. I detected a vague presence somewhere near the kitchen and homed in on it, feeling kind of dumb. What I was supposed to be detecting, exactly? Razor burn on a freshly shorn scalp? A lack of razor burn on a fuzzy upper lip? It was just a blurry, wishy-washy blob on my psychic radar.

Huh.

For some reason, my wariness-bordering-on-fear was fading into nothingness. For no real reason, I was absolutely certain that the intruder wasn't Kade. Which was crazy because there was no actual way for me to know that. Something in my subconscious eased with a sense of comfort, rather than tensing at a potential threat.

Frowning deeply, I flung the door open and stepped through it.

The first thing I saw was the six-pack of Dr Pepper on the island. That was followed by a dozen Blu-ray movies stacked beside the fizzy drinks. Finally, I saw a slim, dark-haired woman standing next to the beverage and cinema stacks, staring at me with wide brown eyes.

"Kit," she gasped, a little breathless with a hand pressed to her chest. "You scared me."

I gawked. "Lienna?"

She smiled softly. "I didn't realize you were here. I meant to surprise you… but I guess I got the surprise."

"Let's call it even," I said, feeling a little breathless myself.

For a stunned moment, I wondered if a latent part of my brain had warped her into existence out of sheer loneliness, but I quickly realized that couldn't be the case. The Lienna I would have pulled from memory had a ponytail and an eclectic array of bangles, bracelets, and other jewelry adorning her wrists and woven into her hair.

This very real Lienna had eschewed all those knickknacks—aside from her cat's eye necklace—in favor of a simple, short-sleeved white blouse and fitted jeans. Her hair, which she wore down, had grown several inches, now a long length of sleek black that fell almost to her elbows.

A fresh, California-inspired look, but the same beautiful sorcerer I knew and loved.

When I didn't say anything else, her smile wavered. Uncertainty crept into her eyes as we stood there, the length of the kitchen between us. The last time we'd been face-to-face, we'd been snuggled up on the sofa while The Parent Trap played in the background. Shortly before that, she'd kissed me in a moment of adrenaline-fueled passion after we'd escaped Kade's trap.

She'd also left Vancouver without saying goodbye, and we'd had five months of separation and secrets to really amp up the awkwardness.

I didn't want awkward. Screw it, I wasn't going to allow awkward.

Casting my doubts aside, I strode across the distance between us, swept her into my arms, and hugged her. She gasped as I flattened her smaller frame against me, but it only took her a moment to recover. She slung her arms around my neck, her face pressed to my chest as she hugged me back just as tightly.

"I missed you," I admitted in a low voice.

"I missed you too."

We clung to each other for a few more seconds before she loosened her hold. As she leaned back, her face tilted up to mine, her eyes roving across my face as though checking my features against her memories of me. Did I look different?

Her hands slid slowly from my shoulders to my upper arms, and I was intensely aware of her waist under my hands, the warmth of her skin all too noticeable through the thin fabric. I wanted to draw her close again. I wanted to kiss her the way she'd kissed me five months ago.

But it'd been five months. I still didn't know why she'd left without a goodbye. Hugging her without permission, sure. Kissing her? Nuh-uh.

Even as I thought that, my disobedient gaze slid down to her mouth, tracing the shape of her soft lips.

"I can't believe you're here," I said, one half of my brain buzzing uselessly with shock while the other half debated whether I should still be holding on to her.

Those inviting lips pursed into a frown. "You say that like you didn't think I was coming back."

I took a moment too long to force a laugh. "It was just a long wait. How's your dad?"

"He's not out of the woods yet, but he's improving. My mom can handle things now, and I…" Her face hardened. "And I wasn't about to leave you on your own with Kade back in Vancouver."

"Shit," I swore, swamped by instant guilt. "I'm sorry, Lienna. I shouldn't've told you. You didn't need to leave your family because?—"

"No," she interrupted firmly. "I did need to leave. I need to be here. You're my partner."

I'd missed hearing her say that. We were still holding each other—her hands on my shoulders, mine on her waist. She hadn't stepped back, but she also hadn't jumped my bones either, so I was out to sea on what she wanted.

"Besides," she added, that mysterious glint in her eyes. "You've been having all kinds of fun without me, and I'm tired of being left in the dark."

"More fun than you know," I told her, suppressing another wave of guilt, choosing instead to revel in the elation of her return. I arched an eyebrow. "Do you have other plans right now?"

She gave me a quizzical look. "No."

"Then let's walk and talk," I said with a grin as I finally released her waist. "We've got a date with an ex-assassin that we don't want to miss."

We didn't actually walk or talk. Instead, we hailed a cab and rode to the Crow and Hammer in silence. After keeping Lienna in the dark for months on the off chance someone was listening to my phone calls, I wasn't about to spill all that cloak-and-dagger tea within earshot of an anonymous taxi driver.

We disembarked in front of the three-story brick building that housed Darius's guild, and I led the way through the door.

The difference in atmosphere since my last visit was like jumping from a hot tub into a polar vortex. Most of the pub was empty except for a grim-faced group in combat gear loitering near the unmanned bar. They were all excessively armed for a midafternoon spot of bourbon.

"Kit. Agent Shen." Kai, the deadlier-than-average electramage who'd witnessed Kade murdering S?ze alongside me and Lienna, peeled away from the group. His dark eyes swept over the two of us. "Any trouble on your way here?"

"Nope." I glanced past him at the combat group. "What's with the walking armory?"

"Kade," he said grimly. "We're not taking any chances. If he attacked the guild once, he might do it again."

My mood, which had been buoyantly floating somewhere in the stratosphere with Lienna's return, came crashing back down to sea level.

"All our combat mythics are on the hunt for him," Kai continued, "and everyone else is lying low. We're rotating guard duty here at the guild. Darius doesn't want the building left empty."

Because all our hard-won documents about the Consilium were being stored here.

"Have you got any leads on Kade's whereabouts?" I asked.

"No leads, but a few ideas," Kai replied. "We haven't seen him yet, though. What about you?"

"Not a peep since he stalked me through Gastown the day before yesterday." I shrugged my shoulders, trying to shake off some tension. "Is Darius upstairs?"

"He had to step out for a few minutes. He's coordinating with the GMs of Pandora Knights and Odin's Eye on the search." Kai waved toward the staircase. "He said you should wait for him."

"Got it."

I grabbed Lienna's hand and tugged her across the pub with me.

"Kit," Lienna said slowly as we climbed toward the third floor. "What's going on? What are we doing here?"

"Do you remember," I began as I led her to the locked door with the old boardroom behind it, "that whiteboard we found in S?ze's supervillain lair?"

"The one with all the names?"

"Yeah." I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door. "Remember how Darius's name was in the center? And all the other names were connected to his?"

I pushed the door open and stepped aside, giving her a clear view of the table piled with documents.

"This is why."

Her eyes widened. She stepped past me into the room, taking in our collection of folders and stacks of paper. I closed and locked the door behind us, then joined her.

"Everything here is related to the Consilium in one way or another. Some of it dates back twenty years." I tapped the folder of names. "Like this one. Names of suspected Consilium members, supporters, and cronies."

Moving along the table, I gave her the full tour, explaining each pile and how Darius—or Darius and I—had collected it. The lists of names, the profiles, the financial records. Evidence of crimes, bribes, blackmail, extortion. A rough timeline of the Consilium's activities dating back decades.

"This one," I said, my voice dropping and bitterness weighing on me, "was Georgia Johannesen's. Twenty years ago, she helped Darius compile a record of everything magic-related that the MPD censored without due process—spells, artifacts, people, history, all stuff that disappeared from public record out of nowhere."

Grief pulled at Lienna's features as she looked at the unassuming stack of folders that had gotten the Arcana Historia guild master murdered by Kade five months ago.

"And… Anson Goodman?" she said quietly.

I stepped over to one of our largest piles. "This one. He was an investigative journalist before he became PSFF's editor. He helped Darius uncover the Consilium's top brass the first time."

She turned to me, lips pressed thin. "The first time?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Twenty years ago, Darius went to war with the Consilium."

Her face paled, but before she could respond, the lock clicked. The door opened to reveal the ex-assassin himself, his expression grimly pleased about something—but when he saw Lienna standing beside me, his face shuttered, his eyes cautious.

"Hey Darius," I said, forcing a bright note into my voice. "Look who's back! I was just filling her in on everything."

His gaze raked my face, and I could interpret the subtle "you'd better know what you're doing, Kit" look in his eyes. I gave a short, firm nod.

"Welcome to the madness, Agent Shen," he murmured with the faintest hint of his roguish humor. "I hope you're ready for this."

She pushed her shoulders back. "Absolutely. And you can call me Lienna."

He smiled briefly. "Then I'll get straight to it."

Leading us to the corner of the table beside his laptop, he flipped open a folder to reveal The Weapon. With capital letters. Since we knew less than nothing about its magical properties, all we had was conjecture—but considering it should have been lumped in with Tino's pile of Very Scary Magic, we were going on the assumption that The Weapon was likely something downright apocalyptic. Or at least apocalypse adjacent.

"It took some digging," Darius began, "but a contact of mine was able to link the seller's deposit to an account and trace that account to a person. Her name is Floris Visser."

He flipped open another folder, revealing a mythic profile complete with a grainy black-and-white photo of a lean, sharp-featured woman in her fifties with long, fair hair and narrow eyes. "She's a notorious rogue tempemage who operates throughout Western Europe, primarily in the Netherlands. She's known for buying and selling dangerous offensive magic."

"So… weapons," I translated. "And our plan is to steal one very particular weapon from her—a very expensive one—before the Consilium can get their hands on it. Should be a piece of cake."

"It promises to be our most exciting excursion to date," Darius agreed. He handed me the folder on Visser. "I have a few leads on her current location. Once I confirm her whereabouts, we'll depart immediately. Keep your bags packed."

I glanced at Lienna with a wry grin. "You got it."

Darius and I had spent five months playing investigative catch-up on the Consilium's activities, but now we were finally going to get the jump on them. Visser's ancient weapon would be ours.