Sinking my hand into his hair, I deepened our kiss, my tongue flirting with his—and a loud cheer went up, swiftly spreading through the entire pub. Reluctantly, I straightened as my guildmates whooped and catcalled us.

“Hey, you’re doing gifts without us!” Aaron zoomed to Ezra’s side, digging in his pocket. “Happy birthday, man.”

He dropped a white envelope on the open photo album, the “gift” decorated with a slightly crumpled gold bow. Ezra opened the top and slid out a packet of plane tickets.

“First class!” Aaron boasted. “Round trip for your music festival.”

“What?” I gasped. “No way! Thank you, Aaron.”

“Don’t forget my gift.” Kai slid into the spot on Ezra’s other side and handed the aeromage a folded piece of paper. He hadn’t bothered with a bow. “Hotel reservations.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to let him open it, Kai, not just tell him what it is.”

“It’s a hotel reservation printout. Not very glamorous.” He canted a look at me—his smoldering, woman-melting look. “But your room will be very glamorous, I promise.”

I grinned so broadly my cheeks hurt. “Thank you, guys. This is the best gift ever.”

“It’s not your gift, Tori.” Aaron gave me a stern stare. “It’s Ezra’s. And it’s totally up to him who he brings as his plus-one.”

My gaze swung to Ezra. He thoughtfully tapped the plane tickets back into the envelope.

“Choices, choices,” he murmured.

“Ezra,” I growled.

His grin flashed, and he leaned across the bar again to plant a kiss on my scowl. “Of course I’m bringing you.”

“Of course.” I stuck my tongue out at Aaron.

He stuck his tongue out back at me, then pointed behind the bar. “You got the rest of his gift?”

“Oh, right!”

Ezra watched bemusedly as I dove through the saloon doors and reappeared a second later with a three-foot-long black case. I heaved it up on the counter beside the photo album and turned it toward him.

“Ta-da!” I said.

A grin was already spreading over Ezra’s face. He didn’t need to open it to know what was inside, but he flipped the thick clasps up and lifted the lid anyway. Nestled in black foam, a pair of short swords with equal length silver blades and black hilts shone under the overhead lights, the two weapons designed to fit together into a two-foot-long baton or a four-foot-long double-bladed staff.

“Are these from your blacksmith, Aaron?” Ezra asked with awed disbelief. “The one in Tennessee?”

“Yep. He makes weapons for half the Sinclair Academy mages. No offense to the deceased Twin Terrors, but these are superior blades. They won’t break.”

Ezra ran his hands along the hilts, then closed the lid. Turning to Aaron and Kai with an eager fire in his eyes, he asked, “Tomorrow morning?”

“Afternoon,” Aaron corrected. “I’m not doing a live-blade practice with you while hungover.”

“I suppose.”

Snorting, the pyromage swiveled toward me. “Okay, last gift.”

Panic fizzed through my chest. Another gift? I didn’t know about any other gifts for Ezra! Had I forgotten something? Had he forgotten? What—

“Your gift,” he added.

“Wait, mine? Why am I getting a gift?”

Aaron, Ezra, and Kai exchanged gleefully wicked looks.

“Well, you see …” Aaron began.

“This is actually an important day for you too,” Kai continued.

“Because it’s your guild anniversary,” Ezra finished.

I stared at them. “No, it’s not.”

“It is!” Ezra insisted. “It’s your one-year, one-month, one-week anniversary from your first shift here. Remember?”

Aaron tapped the counter. “I’ll jog your memory: you threw a drink at us.”

I ignored that. “You can’t be serious.”

“We are,” Kai said. “We even got you a—”

Someone screamed.

I whipped toward the sound as mythics surged backward, opening a gap in the middle of the room—and revealing the shaggy black wolf padding across the floor toward us, scarlet eyes shining eerily. A tiny brown paper bag hung from its teeth.

All conversation fell silent as everyone nervously watched the varg. I fully expected it to approach my spot at the bar—but it walked right by and stopped before Kai.

He took the bag. “Thanks.”

The wolf stared at him, turned and stared at me, then disappeared in a swirl of shadow right where it stood.

Zak’s vargs were as melodramatic with their exits as he was.

Kai waved a casual hand at everyone watching us. “Just a druid delivery. As you were.”

With much chuckling and head shaking, they resumed their eating, drinking, and talking.

“Why is a varg delivering something to you?” I asked Kai suspiciously.

“Since I stole Zak’s number out of your phone so I could pick his brain on a certain … project.” He slid the tiny paper bag to me. “He sent you this.”

I opened the top and peered inside.

“Finally!” I lifted out a violet-and-blue crystal—the long overdue replacement for my new favorite artifact. “He was supposed to send this last month.”

“He’d planned to show up today and surprise you with it, but he canceled last minute due to a dragon-chimera duel.”

I looked up, jaw hanging. “A what?”

“He had to referee. Couldn’t wait, apparently.”

I continued to stare, trying to imagine what a fae duel—and refereeing one—would entail, then dropped the leather cord over my head. The crystal settled beside my seashell necklace.

Ezra cleared his throat. “As we were saying, we have a gift for you.”

“An anniversary gift.” Dubiousness dripped from my voice. “For a one-year, one-month, one-week anniversary.”

They grinned, then Kai reached into his pocket and withdrew another envelope, this one folded in half. “This is from me, Ezra, and Aaron—with some help from Zak and Darius.”

“Zak?” Blinking, I glanced along the bar, where the GM was busy with the blender. “And Darius? What kind of help?”

Kai held it out. “You’ll see.”

Nearly vibrating with anticipation, I unfolded the envelope, bent the top open, and slid its contents out.

Three playing cards, worn and yellowed with age. The hand-painted King of Hearts sat regally, a crown perched on his head and an eyepatch covering one eye. The dangerous Jack of Clubs wore all black, two daggers crossed in front of him. And the Joker, dressed in black and red, grinned mischievously as he held a deadly sword at a cocky angle.

“The Queen of Spades can never be replaced,” Ezra said softly, “but these cards are from the same deck. The sorcerer who created the Queen made these too.”

I stared at the three cards.

“We aren’t sure about their spells yet.” Aaron rubbed his jaw. “We’ve got consultations with a few experts lined up. We’ll get it figured out.”

“Their spells?” I whispered.

“The incantations aren’t just written on the backs,” Kai pointed out. “And since the deck’s original creator passed away thirty years ago—and the cards’ previous owners weren’t forthcoming about how to use them—we need to do some Arcana detective work.”

My eyebrows shot up, but he just shrugged mysteriously. My gaze slid to Ezra, smiling serenely, then to Aaron’s broad grin.

I fanned the cards out. The dark, enigmatic Jack. The one-eyed King. The laughing Joker.

Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I didn’t even care about my makeup. I set the cards on top of the photo album, planted my hands on the bar, and vaulted across it. I landed in Ezra’s arms, then I was hugging all three of my mages, crying all over them while they laughed and patted my shoulders.

“Guildeds!”

I lifted my face from Ezra’s chest at Darius’s loud call. Clara had joined him behind the bar, and the two of them were lining up an assortment of glassware, from rocks glasses to wide-mouth snifters.

Everyone swept toward the bar, and after tucking my cards in the photo album, Aaron and Kai hustled me and Ezra to the spot right in front of the GM. Our guildmates crammed in all around us.

“It’s time for a toast,” Darius announced. “And we’ll be drinking my secret sparkling strawberry sangria.”

Loud oohs and ahhs filled the pub. I laughed, tears still streaking my cheeks.

He picked up a pitcher of candy-red sangria, and Clara lifted the other. As they filled each glass, Aaron and Kai started passing them out. I grabbed two glasses, and when I turned to hand them off, I found Justin and Sin behind me. Sabrina and Kaveri beside them. Izzah at Kai’s side. Makiko behind them with her plus-one.

We handed out drinks to everyone, and with a cold wine glass in my hand, I turned back to Darius. Ezra slid his arm around my waist, warm against my side.

The GM’s piercing gray stare touched on me, then Ezra, then Aaron and Kai. He lifted his gaze to the rest of the guild and picked up his glass of sangria.

Silence fell, every mythic—and two humans neck-deep in mythicness—listening intently.

“I could make a long, heartfelt speech about family, loyalty, love, and bravery,” he mused, “but really, there’s only one thing to be said.”

My breath caught.

He raised his glass into the air. “Don’t hit first—”

“—but always hit back!” we shouted at the top of our lungs.

Laughter and cheers rang out, and as one, we brought our glasses to our lips and drank.