“You were busy planning the surprise party of the century,” he teased as he executed a smooth parallel park outside a familiar bakery.

He waited in the car while Sin and I went into confectionary heaven to pick up my massive order of cupcakes. We added them to the trunk, which already contained half a dozen bags of streamers, balloons, banners, and colorful tablecloths.

The drive to the guild took only a few minutes. As the car zoomed through the intersection where the guild sat, seeing repaved asphalt and repaired buildings reminded me what the spot had looked like four months ago.

The search to uncover the Court of the Red Queen’s final sects was ongoing, but with Xanthe in custody, it was steadily progressing. Darius had reported last month that they’d weeded the cult’s remnants out of Vancouver, and guilds from Seattle to San Francisco were hunting for hidden “circles” in their cities. It might take another few months, but the cult was going down for good.

Justin parked in the tiny back lot, and I put all that out of my mind as we carried our haul in through the kitchen.

“You’re here!” The cheery cry came from Sabrina as she rushed around the bar, her pink dress fluttering and her chin-length blond hair styled with salon-perfect beach waves. She helped us stack the cupcakes on the counter, then gave me and Sin hugs, gushing over how pretty we looked.

Kaveri followed more sedately. The witch wore an earthy brown dress that brought out the golden tones in her skin.

“Ready to make this place festive?” she asked me.

“Let’s do it!”

We got to work. Standing on tables, Kaveri and Sin hung blue and white streamers from the ceiling beams while Sabrina arranged the matching tablecloths. Justin sat in the corner, red in the face as he inflated an entire bag of balloons.

I pulled out a shiny banner and, climbing onto the back counter, attached it to the wall so it looped beneath the massive silver war hammer where it rested on its heavy hooks. Jumping down, I checked my work.

“Happy 24th Birthday,” the sign read.

My throat constricted. Twenty-four. The birthday Ezra was never supposed to have. If we hadn’t changed his fate, he would never have survived to this day. Together, we’d saved him.

“Tori?”

I started, then realized tears were about to spill from my eyes. I tilted my head back, blinking furiously before the moisture ruined my makeup.

“You okay?” Sabrina asked softly.

Makeup saved, I examined her concerned expression. “Did you see it coming, Sabrina? Everything that happened?”

“Not even the greatest prophet can see everything,” she replied lightly. “My mother once told me, ‘Most people in this world are carried by the current, but beware the rare few who create waves with every step they take.’”

My forehead crinkled.

“You’re a wave-maker, Tori, and waves are difficult to predict—so maybe you could just coast along for a bit so my tarot cards behave?”

“Uh … I’ll try?” I hesitated. “Your cards were wrong, though, weren’t they? They predicted Ezra would sacrifice himself. The Hanged Man and the Death card, remember? But he didn’t die.”

“The cards weren’t wrong.” She pressed her hands together. “The Death card doesn’t mean literal death. Just like the Devil card doesn’t mean a literal demon … usually.”

My eyes widened.

“The reversed Devil—redemption,” she said softly. “The Hanged Man—sacrifice. Death—endings and beginnings. Do you see?”

Oh.

Yes, I could see it now. The fortune she’d seen had never been about Ezra alone. It’d been about Ezra … and Eterran.

Sabrina watched that sink in, then offered me a hesitant smile. “By the way, are you sure you don’t want a rabbit?”

“A rabbit?”

Her eyes lit up with devoted fervor. “Cinnabunny’s babies are so cute. Rabbits make wonderful pets, you know. Really!”

“I’m good,” I said quickly, shaking off my shock. “Twiggy and Hoshi are enough trouble for me.”

A cheerful jingle rang through the pub, and I spun toward the door, half petrified that Aaron had blown it and Ezra was walking in. But nope—not unless Ezra had developed a new love for leather in the last couple of hours.

A sexy hunk and equally sexy hunkette walked in, both clad in motorcycle leathers with helmets tucked under their arms. Kai’s hair was mussed while Izzah’s raven locks were beautifully wind-swept in a way my curls could never achieve.

“You’re early!” I trotted over for an electramage hug. It was a hug sort of day. “I thought you had a big meeting.”

“Cancelled,” Kai revealed. “Makiko called me ten minutes before I left explaining how the VP we were supposed to meet with got run over by a golf cart during his morning round on the course.”

“How does one get run over by a golf cart?”

“That’s what I asked.” Izzah shrugged airily. “We can only guess.”

“He was probably drunk,” I decided.

Kai set his helmet on a nearby table. “Speaking of drinks, who’s manning the bar today?”

“The big man upstairs volunteered.”

“Darius?”

“Who else?”

Kai arched a dark eyebrow. “I’m telling him you called him the big man upstairs.”

Alarm shot through me. “Uh—”

“You’ll do better tonight, eh leng chai?” Izzah asked, planting a hand on her cocked hip. “You overdid it a bit last time, hm?”

“I was celebrating,” Kai muttered. “And Aaron kept bringing me shots.”

“It’s fiiine,” I sang, throwing my arm around his leather-clad shoulders. “It’s not every day he can celebrate joining his first guild—again.”

Izzah’s stern expression softened into a sparkling smile. “No, but try-lah not to throw up in the cab on the way home this time.”

“Whoa, you threw up?” I gasped.

Kai scowled darkly, then walked off with a low mutter about getting changed. Izzah sashayed after him, a predatory spark in her eyes. She had him on the run, and she’d keep teasing him until he exploded—by which I meant, until he pinned her to a wall somewhere and kissed her into speechlessness.

I watched them disappear in the direction of the stairs, beaming happily. Things weren’t perfect, but they were heading in the right direction.

Kai couldn’t change his family, but turning himself in to the MPD to save Makiko’s life had produced an unexpected side effect: it won him the support of her father. It’d taken months of careful maneuvering, but Mr. Miura had helped Kai respectfully end his engagement to Makiko, move into a business role in MiraCo, and, barely a week ago, transfer back into the Crow and Hammer.

Even splitting his time between MiraCo and his guild, Kai still got to chill at the pub, hang out at Aaron’s place, and do all the bounty runs that Aaron’s bad-guy-busting heart desired—when he wasn’t out with Izzah, that was. Thank goodness she’d given him one more chance.

I tapped my chin. The text message I’d sent her a week after Kai officially became single probably helped. It’d said something like, “Kai was an asshole because his family was gonna kill you. Tell him to tell you everything.”

Smirking, I got back to work on the party decorations. We spent a ridiculously long hour hanging balloons—with no small amount of time wasted by literally all of us static-charging ourselves with the balloons and trying to shock Kai—and just as we finished, Clara and Ramsey breezed in, both loaded down with bulging grocery bags.

“The food is here!” I cheered.

“Are we late?” Clara fretted. “The line at the store was a nightmare.”

I glanced at the clock. “You’re good. We have just enough time.”

We all piled on the groceries, separating the snacks from the hors d’oeuvres. Sin, Sabrina, and Kaveri emptied bags of chips into big silver bowls while I arranged the million cupcakes on the tiered dessert tray I’d last used for a long-ago Halloween party. Kai and Izzah reappeared to help, the former wearing slacks and a dress shirt, while the latter had changed into a strapless emerald dress.

As I nervously rearranged the napkins and plates stacked beside the dessert tree, guests began to arrive. The bell over the door rang every minute, voices called out excited greetings, and conversation swelled through the room. I zipped into the back to throw the cupcake containers in the recycling bin, and when I returned, Kai and Izzah were standing at the bar with petite, dark-haired Makiko.

The young MiraCo GM looked like a million bucks in a silver, knee-length sheath dress, her hair coiled into an updo. A Japanese man around her age stood beside her, and my eyebrows shot up. A casual plus-one or a special someone?

“Makiko!” I called brightly as I swung around the bar to join them. “How are you?”

“I’d be better if my most important meeting of this quarter wasn’t indefinitely postponed,” she huffed.

“The VP broke his tailbone in the golf cart accident,” Kai informed me. “He won’t be back to work for weeks.”

Makiko sighed.

“I’m sure it’ll work out,” I replied brightly, not in the mood to worry about random drunk VPs. “Or if you want a less stressful work environment, transfer to our guild!”

A small smile curved her lips. “We made it work for Kai, but my father needs me.”

I tapped my lower lip. “How did you make it work?”

“There are certain advantages to keeping his association with MiraCo unofficial. As a … consultant … he can get away with things a guild member can’t.”

“That was our spin on it, at least,” Kai added dryly. “My grandfather’s allowing it because I’m not a complete embarrassment for once.”

He said the last part with a spark of humor he wouldn’t have felt before, and I hid a sigh of relief. Kai was no longer running from his past. He’d found new confidence in dealing with his family, and he had a more relaxed air about him than I remembered.