I mulled that over, then untied my apron. “I’m taking a break. Holler if anyone needs me.”

They nodded. Tossing my apron on the back counter, I cut around the bar to the stairs. On the second-floor landing, I paused in the open doorway that led into the communal work area, packed with long tables, shared computers, whiteboards and corkboards, and a screen with a scrolling list of bounties and jobs from the MPD website. I’d spent a fair number of hours up here with the guys, working on college assignments while they planned their next job.

Now that I was training regularly, I was probably ready to join them on their less dangerous jobs—assuming they wanted my help—but the recent calm in the city had left the Crow and Hammer’s bounty hunters out of work. Same for Odin’s Eye, which was why our guilds had joined forces to unravel the mysterious ceasefire among rogues.

Ten members were scattered throughout the room, all working alone except for a group of four at the far end: Liam, the weaselly telekinetic; Julian, a new apprentice sorcerer and our youngest member; and Alyssa, a banana-haired apprentice a couple of years older.

They were sitting at a table with Ezra, who’d come up here to avoid the Odin’s Eye team—or more specifically, to avoid Mario, their demon contractor. A wise precaution for an illegal demon mage.

He was pointing at a laptop screen, and I could tell from his slow gestures and his gaze, shifting from person to person, that he was explaining something. I could almost hear his soothing voice as he patiently talked the younger mythics through whatever they were working on. A magnetic pull tugged me toward him, luring me to his side.

His head turned, and his eyes met mine from across the long room.

I flashed him a smile and waved cheerily, then hurried up the next flight of stairs. Jaw clenched, I leaned against the wall and breathed deep.

Damn it.

Since Christmas, I’d dedicated every waking hour outside work and school to researching the demonic amulet. Seeing as I’d stolen it from a demon and used it—once—to interrupt another demon’s contract, I didn’t have much to go on.

As soon as I got home tonight, I would pull out the stack of books and printouts hidden under my bed—Demonica jobs and bounties from the MPD archives; books I’d borrowed from Arcana Historia, a guild with a semi-private library; histories of summoning; studies on demons—and spend an hour or two paging through them, exactly as I’d been doing for weeks. So far, I’d found nothing.

And I was almost out of time.

Ezra’s demon had promised to wait until the full moon on January 21—only five nights away. If I didn’t have answers by then … I wasn’t sure what would happen, but I was willing to bet it’d be messy.

Pushing off the wall, I straightened my spine. Ezra thought he was doomed. Aaron and Kai thought he was doomed. Somehow, all three of them were continuing on with their lives like usual, as though Ezra’s remaining days couldn’t be counted in months. That wasn’t good enough for me. I wasn’t giving up.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Robin hadn’t been in the workroom, which meant she was up here. Turning away from the guild leadership offices, I tiptoed down a narrow hall. No, I didn’t need to tiptoe, but it seemed appropriate since, technically, I had zero business being up here.

Most of the guild’s magic-usage rooms were in the basement—the alchemy lab, the sparring room, and a spell-testing bomb shelter sorta hole thing—but the Arcana Atrium was the exception. A white sign hanging on its door read, “Arcana In Progress,” and scribbled underneath was, “So keep out, losers!” I recognized Ramsey’s handwriting.

Raising my hand to knock, I froze at an almost inaudible murmur.

“… not happening.”

Was that Robin’s voice? Canting my head, I saw that the door wasn’t latched, the gap allowing sound to leak out.

“Forget it,” she continued, her words too quiet and muffled for me to make out everything. “You can’t … smelling … would I explain …”

Smelling? Had I heard that right?

“We’ll have to … right time. You’ll get … to … mages eventually.”

Mages? What mages was she talking about? Eyes narrowing, I seized the handle and whipped the door open, revealing a largish room crowded with stuff. A permanent circle, aligned beneath a square skylight, had been etched into the dark floor, which was made of a smooth material that shone like glass. Cupboards, bookshelves, and a worktable, all well-worn and bursting with their contents, lined the walls.

Perched a stool, Robin was facing a newish grimoire, open on the scuffed worktable—and beside her was her demon. He stood like a lifeless statue, his softly glowing eyes the color of bubbling lava. He didn’t so much as twitch at my appearance, staring blankly at the opposite wall, his arms hanging at his side.

Robin made up for her demon’s lack of response by whirling on her stool with a frightened squeak. Her wide eyes goggled at me from behind her glasses, one hand pressed to the side of her face.

“T-Tori,” she stammered. “Um. Just a moment, please?”

She shifted her hand, and I spotted the cell phone she held.

“I’m sorry,” she said to her phone. “Can I call you back? Thank you. Bye.” Lowering her phone, she rubbed her sternum. “You startled me.”

“Sorry.” I only half heard her, my stare fixed on her demon. This was my first up-close look at him. “Who were you talking to?”

She hesitated, taken aback by my nosy question. “Amalia.”

Her blond friend she’d joined the guild with? If Robin was an absentee member, I didn’t know how to describe Amalia.

I took a cautious step closer to her demon, amazed at his slight stature. To be fair, he was no pushover. A couple inches taller than me, the demon was all muscle—hard, ropey muscle that suggested agility as much as strength. Compared to the other demons I’d seen, however, he was a shrimp.

My gaze traveled from the small horns poking out of his messy black hair and across his disconcertingly human face to the mixture of light armor and dark fabric he wore. Not that he wore much. Most of his reddish-brown skin was exposed.

“Do you dress him?” I asked curiously, studying the metal plate over his heart, the center etched with a strange symbol. “Or did he come fully accessorized?”

She peeked between me and the demon. “He—he came that way. Um. Can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah.” I leaned sideways to get a better look at the demon’s midriff. “Damn, girl.”

“P-pardon me?”

I pointed. “You can see this, right? I know he’s a demon and all, but those abs. They might be the most demony thing about him. No man has abs that perfect.”

When Robin didn’t respond, I glanced over. She was cringing on her seat, her blush so intense her face was glowing as red as her demon’s eyes.

“I can’t put clothing on him,” she babbled, hands twisting together. “Extra clothes can’t go into the infernus with him. But—but it’s fine. He’s a d-demon, not a … not a … man,” she finished in a strained whisper.

I arched an eyebrow. I hadn’t been suggesting she dress him—I’d merely been wondering if she enjoyed the view—but apparently, her demon being half naked and totally ripped made her uncomfortable for some reason.

Planting my hands on my hips, I gave the unmoving demon one more swift assessment, this time comparing his eyes to Ezra’s when they glowed with demonic power. Before being bound inside a human body, had Eterran looked like this, or was he more like the winged demon who’d stalked us on Halloween?

“Why’ve you got him out, anyway?” I asked.

“I …” She patted one cheek as though to make her blush fade faster. “I’ve been looking into … the magical properties of … demon blood.”

That sounded unsavory. With a thoughtful “hmm,” I parked my butt on the table beside her, happy to put the girl between me and the demon. Great bod or not, he gave me the heebie-jeebies.

“So … I want to ask you something.”

“Something else,” she muttered under her breath, a hint of an annoyed bite in her voice.

“Yep.” I squashed my final doubts and jumped right in. “Do you know anything about demonic artifacts?”

“You mean objects used for summoning and contracting, like the infernus?”

I glanced at the silver pendant hanging around her neck. “I mean an artifact made with demon magic. Made by demons. Is that a thing?”

Asking her was a risk, but neither Ezra nor I had much to lose. I had to ask someone, and I’d rather take a chance on a guild member, however new and possibly untrustworthy, than a complete stranger.

Robin absorbed my question, her expression serious. “Why do you ask?”

“Just some research I’m doing for a job.”

“Oh.” Another hesitation, then she turned to her demon. She rapped her knuckles against the square plate over his heart. “This is a demonic artifact. It has magical properties, but I don’t know more than that. Summoned demons might carry artifacts, but once contracted, they can’t use them or create new ones.”

Her demon’s armor was magical? Interesting, but not helpful. “Any idea who might know something about these sorts of artifacts?”

“Short of discussing it with a demon, I don’t know how anyone could learn much …”

“Do people do that? Have conversations with a demon?”

“Well, summoners talk to demons before making a contract with them, but … even if someone has studied it, finding Demonica experts is difficult.” Her brow wrinkled, and she sighed like she also knew how it felt to run into dead ends at every turn. “Summoners aren’t common, and experienced, knowledgeable ones are even more scarce.”

Frustration burned through me. How was I supposed to learn anything about the amulet, then? The MPD’s database listed only one active summoner in the greater Vancouver area, and he was currently in custody—on charges I didn’t have clearance to see. Even if I could talk to him, why would he tell me anything?