Those green eyes fixed on me, boring through my skin. “You want me to leave?”

“Of course not, but this isn’t your guild. You need to take care of yourself.”

“And you won’t care if I leave?”

“No. It won’t change anything between us, promise.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked as he studied me, lines of tension around his mouth. After a long moment, he gave a short nod. “Understood.”

A strange zing of unease ran through me. “Zak—”

He caught my wrist and drew my hand up. Pulling something small from his pocket, he pressed it into my palm.

“You might need this too. Keep it this time.”

The tight grip of his fingers disappeared from my wrist, then he turned, his long coat billowing out behind him as he swept toward the open doorway.

As he reached the threshold, he paused. “If you considered me a friend, would you have asked for my help instead of telling me to save my own skin?”

My eyes went wide and a wordless protest scraped my throat. “I didn’t—I was just …”

He glanced back, taking in my guilty expression.

“That’s what I thought.”

Then he was through the doorway. His footsteps thumped quietly down the stairs, the sound quickly lost in the rumble of voices rising from the pub. Jaw hanging, I looked down at the object in my palm—a square of purple fabric, warm from his body heat and heavier than it looked.

The Carapace of Valdurna. His most valuable fae artifact.

I shot a disbelieving glance at Ezra, then vaulted toward the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I charged down the steps, but just before I reached the bottom, I spotted him across the crowded pub.

The pub door opened, and his dark form slipped into the darkness beyond. He didn’t look back.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Crow and Hammer boasted twenty-five combat mythics—if you counted the half-trained apprentices. I wasn’t sure I should be on the list, considering that, one, “half-trained” was too generous for my skills, and two, I was human.

Unfortunately, three members who did count as experienced and battle-capable were missing from our ranks. When shit hit the fan a week ago and Darius gave everyone the option of barricading together in the guild or running for it, Weldon, Zhi, and Ming had taken Option B. Good riddance to creepy old sorcerer Weldon, and the other two, young Arcana siblings, had never spent much time at the guild anyway.

The last member I would’ve loved to have standing beside me was Robin, not only because I was desperate to know she was safe, but also because her demon was scary-lethal and we needed all the help we could get.

But without them, that left twenty-two of us. Twenty-two men and women who would protect our guild from the Keys of Solomon bounty hunters while our non-combat guildmates hid inside.

The chilly night breeze smelled of coming rain. Each fitful gust nipped at my cheeks and tugged at my ponytail, a few stray strands dancing around my face.

Ezra stood beside me, his curls hidden under a black beanie. His bad-guy-smasher gloves ran up his arms, and in each hand, he held a short sword. Not his twin terrors, but similar in length and weight.

On my other side, Kai wore solid black, his combat vest loaded with small weapons. His two katana were sheathed at his hip. He wasn’t a Crow and Hammer member on paper, but he belonged right here in every way that counted.

Arranged on the street with us were the rest of our combat mythics. Tabitha stood with Laetitia, Sylvia, Cameron, and Darren. Felix was teamed up with his wife Zora, Gwen, Drew, and Cearra. Andrew would lead Lyndon, Ramsey, Philip, and Venus—who was, it turned out, a combat alchemist.

Aaron stood just ahead of me, Ezra, and Kai. The three mages were powerhouses who could play off each other’s strengths, and I’d act as their rearguard.

The last three members of our small army strode along the line like generals assessing their troops. Girard, artifacts clipped to his belt and two heavy pistols in shoulder holsters. Alistair, his white beard bristling and a thick, metal-capped staff in one hand.

Leading them was Darius. Dressed entirely in fitted black. Lots of leather. The four silver daggers hanging from his belt drew the most attention, but only a fool would miss the cuff-like bracelets gleaming around his wrists. He might be a rare luminamage, but Darius King wasn’t a mythic who limited himself to a single type of weapon.

He reached the center of our line, halted, and glanced across the empty streets. The Crow & Hammer was situated on a corner, meaning enemies could approach from four directions.

“Ezra?” he murmured questioningly.

“I can’t sense any movement yet.”

Nodding, Darius faced the line of combat mythics, decked in gear, carrying as many weapons as they could wield.

“This is a situation I never thought we would face,” he said, his voice carrying to every ear. “As your guild master, I am your guardian and defender. It’s my duty and honor to stand between you and the MPD—whether their administrators, field agents, or a guild they’ve assigned power to.

“The Keys have the power, the temperament, and lawful permission to kill.” His gaze swept down the line of mythics. “By myself, I can’t protect you, but together, we can protect each other.”

On my left, Ezra’s swords shifted as he tightened his grip. On my right, Kai closed his gloved hand around the hilt of his longer katana. In front of us, Aaron drew Sharpie from its sheath, orange light from the streetlamp overhead gleaming across the faint, flame-like pattern that rippled down the blade.

My hand drifted to the paintball gun at my belt. Gone were my yellow sleep potions. Sin had given me two magazines. One was a “super” sleep potion, and she’d spent a solid five minutes warning me to stay at least ten feet away from my target before shooting because the stuff would put me in a coma for three days. In the second magazine was a potion she’d simply called “hellfire.”

Each magazine held seven paintballs, totaling fourteen shots. Fourteen enemies I could potentially take down.

Zak’s crystals hung around my neck. My force-amplifying brass knuckles were already on my fingers. My back pouch was empty—I’d left orb-Hoshi with Kaveri where she’d be safe—but I’d added the Carapace of Valdurna to my left pouch instead.

Ezra’s head came up. His eyes half-lidded as he concentrated. “They’re coming.”

Nodding, Darius turned to the empty intersection. “Remember, we must hold this line. Protect the guild.” He glanced back across us, a spark of bleak amusement in his eyes. “And don’t die.”

He made it sound so simple.

The chill breeze washed over us, its quiet rustle the only sound. Everything was still and empty, the police’s neighborhood evacuation thorough and complete. Justin had been texting updates to Sin, and with his final “it’s done” message fifteen minutes ago, we’d formed our line outside the guild.

A raindrop landed on my nose, cold and wet. Another plopped on my cheek. As the light rain fell, reflecting the glow of the streetlamps, shadows formed in the distant darkness.

They came from all four directions, striding confidently across the pavement. Nearly all male. Big, strong, muscular. Cold, hardened faces and hungry leers. Weapons of every kind. Mythics of every kind.

My stomach turned over with growing dread as more and more Keys men appeared. Fifteen mythics approached from the east, fifteen from the west. Fifteen more from the north, and yet fifteen more from the south.

Sixty. Sixty. That wasn’t four teams! That was most of the guild split into four attack squads.

The rain increased from a light sprinkle to a steady patter as the four groups reached the intersection. Their lines combined into a single arc of men, weapons, and impending violence.

I sucked in rapid breaths, my head spinning with panic. We’d expected sixteen or twenty men. Instead, we were outnumbered three to one.

A man near the center of their line stepped forward—tall, heavily muscled, thick beard, and wide-set eyes. He carried a two-handed sword as long as he was tall.

“Darius,” the man rumbled.

“Nicolas,” Darius replied coolly. “You’ve moved up in the world since we last met.”

“‘Met,’” the Keys GM repeated, his tone thoughtful. “Is that how you describe murdering my predecessor in front of me?”

“Nothing personal. Business is business.”

“As is this. Do understand that we can’t accept the surrender of anyone from your guild, as demon mages could be hiding among your members.”

My gaze darted over my shoulder, where a handful of familiar faces were visible in the pub’s windows. Did the Keys intend to kill all our non-combat members sheltering inside too?

“There are no demon mages in my guild,” Darius said.

“Men like you never change.” Nicolas heaved the point of his sword off the ground, and his guildeds shifted with restless anticipation. “You shouldn’t have sent your pets into my guild. Did you think you’d get away with murdering four of my men?”

“Ha!”

I didn’t realize that sharp, humorless laugh had come from me until Nicolas’s gaze snapped to my face.

“Something funny about the deaths of my men?”

Sixty murderous glares attempted to flay the flesh from my bones. Oops.

“Death is never funny,” I called. “But it’s funny that you think we murdered them. Can’t you count?”

“Count?” the Keys GM growled.

“Yeah. You didn’t notice the fifth guy? The total stranger killed by … wait, what was it?” I pretended to think. “Oh right. Demon magic. Just like Piotr, Anand, and Chay were killed with demon magic.” I crossed my arms. “But no, go ahead and blame us.”

Kai groaned almost inaudibly.

“Were you there, girl?” The GM bared his teeth. “You’re one of the cowards who killed my men?”

Oh. Double oops. Now the entire guild would try to kill me first.