The Carapace of Valdurna. It’d saved Ezra’s life a month ago, almost killing him in the process. Couldn’t say I was pleased to see it.

Zak’s fingers curled around the fabric, his scars pulling taut. “Lallakai will return once she decides I’ve had enough time to stew about how helpless I am without her.”

“Shit, Zak. That’s … not a healthy relationship, you know?”

He let out a surprised laugh. “Healthy? It’s survival. I knew Lallakai was a darkfae from day one, and I took my chances with her anyway.”

“She’s actually a darkfae?”

“More or less. There are worse fae.” He tucked the Carapace back in his pocket and slid another of Robin’s drawings closer. “You’ve been busy over the last few weeks.”

“Doing my best to save Ezra, yeah.” I pointed at the papers. “So? Can you do it?”

“My area of expertise is alchemy, and the sorcery I’ve learned is nothing like this. Parts of it are written in … in demonic, I think? And even if I can construct the array, I’m not sure it’ll work. Summoners have their own demon contracts. Is that because the arrays require demon blood, or is there some other connection?” He rubbed his short beard. “In other words, your guess is as good as mine.”

Well, my slightly decreased anxiety levels were through the roof again. Yay. “So what, then?”

“I’ll try it, and if it fails … we’ll figure out what to do next.” He flipped the cult grimoire open to a page written entirely in Latin. “Do you have a plan for what to do with the demon, assuming the ritual works?”

I leaned a hip on the table. “Not really, but Eterran is reasonable for a demon.”

Zak’s eyebrows rose. “If he seems reasonable, it’s because he’s in a vulnerable position. Once that’s no longer the case, you can’t know what he’ll be like.”

“Robin said he’ll be stuck in the circle, so we can figure that out when it’s time.”

“Mm,” he agreed vaguely. “Before I forget …”

My forehead crinkled as he reached for his coat, lying on the corner of the table. He fished around inside its many inner pockets, then withdrew a silver orb the size of a small melon.

I gasped. “Hoshi!”

Before he could even offer the fae to me, I’d snatched her from his hand. I cradled her against my chest, stroking her warm, ridged shape. “Where did you find her? When did you find her? Is she okay? Is she hurt? Hoshi? Hoshi, can you hear me? Is she—”

“She’s dormant,” he said, cutting through my babble with a frown. “One of my vargs found her near that museum where you were first attacked. I’d planned a whole lecture for you on abandoning her, but it doesn’t look like you need it.”

I hugged her tightly. “She disappeared. I can’t see into the fae world so I couldn’t find her. When will she wake up?”

“I’m not sure. I think this is how sylphs heal from injuries. She needs time to recuperate her strength. Just keep her safe until then.”

“That might be difficult when I can’t even keep myself safe. Good thing you’re going to make this ritual work, right?”

He grunted in a way that didn’t suggest confidence.

Cradling orb-Hoshi in the crook of my arm, I patted his shoulder. “You can do it. You’re the best alchemist on the west coast, remember?”

He snorted. “You didn’t actually believe that, did you?”

I had, but then I’d met a few more west-coast alchemists—like Kelvin Compton, the transmutation genius, and his possibly even more brilliant apprentice, who’d mutated werewolves into furry super soldiers.

“I’m a powerful druid, a good alchemist, and a mediocre sorcerer,” Zak added. “I have no idea what kind of demon summoner I’ll be.”

I looked down at the grimoire. “We’re about to find out, aren’t we?”

Chapter Sixteen

Eight hours of preparation.

That’s how long Zak spent studying the cult tome, Robin’s diagrams, and a small leather book I recognized as his personal grimoire. He drew out a quarter-scale version of the three-circle array, getting a lesson from Eterran on how the demonic runes were supposed to work in the process. Once he had the array down, Zak practiced the incantations, his low voice echoing through the small warehouse while Ezra and I went over every inch of the concrete floor, filling and sanding all cracks and imperfections.

Twenty hours to draw the full-sized array.

Zak painted every precise line, curve, and angle of the three-circle array. Ezra and I did what we could to help—adjusting the metal rulers and angle tools as he directed us, passing him the alchemic marker he was using to draw it, holding up his cheat sheet of incantations whenever he needed to read one—which was every ten minutes.

Seventy-two hours for the array to charge.

Before it could be used, the collection of arcane lines and runes had to passively absorb the earthly energies all around us. Zak caught up on the sleep he’d missed, then split his time between practicing the intensive incantations required for the actual summoning and checking that none of the guilds searching for Ezra were getting too close to our hideout.

Sitting on a cot with my back against the wall, I wrapped my arms around my legs. Beside me, cocooned in a nest I’d made with my jacket, Hoshi was still an orb, cool to the touch and unresponsive to my voice.

I stared at the silver lines drawn across the floor. So much time and effort. So much risk and suffering. So much riding on this ritual.

We didn’t even know if it would work.

If it failed, we’d have to find a rogue Demonica expert to figure out why. That meant more time spent hiding here. More time that Aaron and Kai would spend in lockup—assuming they were both relatively safe in MagiPol’s care and nothing worse had happened to them—and more time in which the guild could be disbanded, if it hadn’t already. We had no way of knowing what was going on outside this warehouse.

Quiet footfalls broke into my thoughts. Ezra crossed to the cot and handed me a granola bar from our stash of food. Water droplets shone on his leather coat, and Zak’s long dagger was strapped to his thigh; he’d been on the warehouse roof, surveying the rundown commercial streets around our hideout.

“Zak still out?” I murmured, turning the granola bar over in my hands. My appetite had disappeared sometime this morning.

“He should be back soon.” Unzipping his jacket, Ezra shrugged it off his shoulders. I watched the leather slide down his arms, dragging over bands of muscle, his bronze skin marked with faint scars.

As he tossed his jacket onto the end of the cot, probably intending to sit beside me, I pressed a hand against his stomach. He paused, blinking down at me. I nudged the hem of his shirt up, revealing the white scars that raked his torso from hip to sternum.

I splayed my hand across them, the unyielding ridges rough under my palm. “You’ve survived so much.”

His surprise softened. He ran his thumb along my jaw.

“You’ll survive this too,” I whispered, pressing my fingers into his warm skin. “Won’t you?”

He combed his fingers into my tangled hair. Neither of us had showered properly in a week, but Zak had procured some basic hygiene supplies. I’d washed my hair, but the lack of hair product was showing.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I can’t guess what will happen, but whatever it is, I promise I’ll fight to survive however I can.”

Tears stung my eyes. “I’m so afraid I’m going to lose you.”

“I’m afraid too.” He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “I’m afraid it won’t work. I’m afraid it will. I’m afraid it’ll kill me. I’m afraid my body might survive but my mind won’t.”

I swallowed against the sob building up in my chest.

“I’m afraid because I don’t know who I am if I’m not a demon mage. What if I don’t like myself? What if you don’t like me?”

“Why would I suddenly not like you?” I huffed.

His fingers trailed down the side of my neck. “Maybe I’m actually a jerk.”

My hand drifted across his abs, my thumb following the waistline of his jeans. “You could never be a jerk.”

He was quiet for a moment. “People like me because I’m easygoing. I don’t get upset about anything … but that’s because I can’t.”

I looked up at him, my lips quirking in a faint frown.

“If I’m not suppressing myself all the time and worrying about Eterran, I’ll be different. Maybe …” He smiled ruefully. “It’s a stupid thing to dwell on right now, but what if I’m different and you, Aaron, and Kai don’t like me as much anymore?”

“Oh, Ezra.” I pulled on his waist and he sank to his knees in front of the cot, putting us at eye level. “Of course you’ll change a little bit, but everyone changes. We change throughout our entire lives. Are you exactly the same now as when you first met Aaron and Kai?”

“No. I was … a lot more defensive back then.”

“And they still liked you, right?” I combed his hair back from his face. “It’s okay to change.”

His warm hands were on my hips, and he slid me forward on the cot until our bodies pressed together, his waist between my thighs. “There are a few things that I won’t allow to change.”

“Like what?” I whispered.

He slid his hand up my spine. “Like how I feel about you.”

Leaning in, he pressed his lips to mine. Our mouths moved with a quiet passion that swiftly escalated into urgent heat. I pressed against him, fingers digging into his shoulders, and his arms clamped around me, squeezing so tightly I could scarcely breathe. I kissed him harder. Held him closer.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging to his warmth and strength. He was alive, and I desperately, frantically needed him to stay that way.