At the sight of her, the other four people belatedly registered as familiar.

My brain tripped over itself and landed in a useless sprawl. Zora knew my demon was in an illegal contract and couldn’t use magic if there were witnesses! Why hadn’t she come alone?

“Robin!” Grinning in relief, she rushed over and grabbed me in a brief hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe. Any trouble getting here?”

“No,” I whispered faintly.

“Good.” Her attention shifted over my shoulder. “Who …”

She trailed off, her eyes going wider and wider as she stared at the demon. Zylas’s build and non-nighttime-appropriate eyewear must’ve tipped her off.

“My infernus is broken,” I hissed under my breath. “I thought you’d be alone!”

“We’re investigating a cult,” she hissed back. “That isn’t a job for one or two people! I told you I had a team, remember?”

No, I didn’t remember that … but I’d been under a lot of stress lately and my memory wasn’t at its best.

She flicked a glance over her shoulder at her teammates. “We’ll just have to wing it.”

“But—”

“Play along,” she said, directing the command more at Zylas than me, then waved her team over. “Okay, we’re all here. Robin brought some help, too.”

The Crow and Hammer mythics approached, some offering smiles I was too nervous to return.

Zora held up her hand toward Zylas as though presenting a prize in a game show. “This is Zee. He’s, ah, shall we say private, so no questions, okay? He’ll be useful, I promise.”

A few eyebrows rose.

“Zee, I’ll run through the team for you. This is Andrew, one of our best sorcerers. Excellent on defense and offense.”

Andrew, a lean man in his fifties who radiated dependability, smiled welcomingly at Zylas.

“This is Gwen. Defensive sorcery. Aggressive defensive sorcery,” Zora added with a chuckle.

Gwen grunted in response, which was actually a relief. The tall, beautiful blond sorceress looked like a posh CEO but had such a filthy mouth she could make Amalia blush. I usually avoided her.

“Drew is a telekinetic,” Zora continued, waving at the stocky, well-muscled psychic on her left who’d gone into the storm drains with us back in December. “We work together often. And this is Venus, a combat alchemist.”

I hadn’t known our guild included a combat alchemist. Venus was of average height, with long black hair in a braid and a complexion that looked very similar to Zylas’s in the dim light.

Zylas nodded in response to each introduction, saying nothing. Zora paused, a faint sheen of perspiration on her forehead despite the chill February air, then cleared her throat.

“The last member of the team is Taye, our telethesian. He’s already in place since he’s been under deep cover for over a week now.” Her voice gained confidence. “You all know the plan. Our guild is counting on us. Let’s make this happen!”

The others nodded, then swept past us. At the mouth of the alley, they parted, Andrew and Gwen going one way, Venus and Drew going the other way.

“Where—” I began.

She pulled out a small black device with an earpiece hanging from a curly cord. “Put this on. I only brought one extra, sorry.”

I took the radio.

“We’ve got a location,” she said as I fumblingly inserted the earpiece. “Or, at least, we’re pretty sure we do. Taye tracked the lieutenant cultist to the One Wall Center, which is a few blocks away. But we don’t know where to go from there.”

She flipped a couple buttons on the device, and sudden noise filled my ear.

“I’m at the back door, Taye.”

I recognized Drew’s voice.

“We’re muted,” Zora added, seeing my surprise. “The lieutenant from One Wall is at a nearby nightclub where he regularly meets other cultists—passing on instructions, we suspect. Come on.”

She swept out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. I hurried on her heels, Zylas gliding after me.

“I’m inside,” Drew murmured, his voice crackling through the tiny speaker in my ear. “I can see the target.”

Zora pressed a button on the cord of her earpiece. “Is everyone in position?”

“Gwen and I are out front,” Andrew replied.

“I’ve got eyes on the back door,” a female voice—Venus, I assumed—said. “I set off a little something to keep loiterers away.”

“Is it that god-awful stench bomb you used back when we—”

“No chatter,” Zora said, interrupting Gwen’s question. “Drew, Taye, keep us updated.”

I walked beside Zora, wanting to ask a hundred questions about what we were doing, what was happening with the guild, and if she knew anything about Ezra’s or Tori’s whereabouts, but I wasn’t sure if that counted as “chatter.” Other pedestrians passed us, and I was surprised that Zora’s black leather didn’t stand out—though her sword case was still conspicuous.

“Target is at a table with eight others.” Taye’s South African accent was easy to identify. “Drew is positioned nearby.”

“What’s the plan?” I whispered to Zora as the low thump of bass music reached my ears. Zylas trailed behind me, a shadow in my peripheral vision.

“Information is our top priority, but also—”

“Another man just joined the table,” Taye said, his mic picking up the same thudding music. “The others all sat up like the Pope just walked in.”

“Looks like he might be a big fish,” Drew added.

“Description?” Zora murmured, quickening her pace. The club was just down the street, identifiable by the clubgoers lined up in front of it.

“Over six feet tall,” Taye reported. “Dark brown hair, fair skin, looks like a—I think a scar on his chin?”

I gasped. Zora looked at me sharply.

“Xever,” I whispered to her. “That’s Xever.”

Her eyes popped wide. “Heads up, team. The scarred man may be Xever, the leader of the cult. Drew, Taye, can you get a better look to confirm?”

“I’ll do a walk by,” Drew said. Muffled music thumped through his mic. “I think it’s him. He matches the description Darius gave everyone.”

“Stand by.” Zora flipped the switch on her earpiece, muting herself, then scooted into the doorway of a closed Vietnamese restaurant. “We aren’t prepared to take on Xever. This is the wrong team for combat against dangerous mythics.”

“I do not sense Nazhivēr,” Zylas said, moving to my side. “But he could be with Xever in his infernus.”

She blew out a breath. “Maybe we should withdraw.”

My gut clenched but I didn’t disagree. For the first time, we’d found Xever instead of him and Nazhivēr ambushing us, but surrounded by cultists in a public venue, we couldn’t take advantage of catching him unaware—nor were Zylas and I in any shape to take him and Nazhivēr on.

“This is not dh’ērrenith,” Zylas said, echoing my thoughts. “Better to keep away and plan our attack.”