The light changed and we crossed the street in front of a line of waiting cars, their headlights glaring.

“If this guy doesn’t pan out,” Tori said, “who else might have useful information?”

“Um, well, Demonica isn’t a common class to begin with, and summoners are even rarer. It requires a lot of study, and summoning demons is quite tedious … and dangerous.”

“Tedious and dangerous? Those two don’t usually go together.”

“It’s dangerous when it goes wrong, and tedious when it goes right,” I clarified with a shiver, remembering my first-hand experience with how badly summoning could go wrong. “Just setting up a summoning circle can take weeks, and you often have to wait weeks more for the demon to accept a contract.”

Tori brushed red curls away from her face. “How did you become a contractor?”

Why hadn’t I seen that question coming? I couldn’t answer with either “completely by accident” or “sort of destiny”—even though both were true.

“I … fell into it, I guess,” I said lamely. “Most of my family are Demonica mythics.”

She absorbed that in silence, and my nerves prickled. Maybe this joint venture hadn’t been a good idea, but we were already passing into Chinatown and it was way too late to back out.

“We’re halfway back to my place,” Tori remarked dryly. “I should’ve asked where we were headed before meeting at the guild.”

“Oh,” I cringed. “I’m sorry. I thought this would be easier.”

Checking the street signs, I crossed to the opposite sidewalk and onto a main thoroughfare lined with commercial buildings. The raised SkyTrain tracks followed the center boulevard, and we weren’t far from the spot where Zylas had leaped from a rooftop and onto a speeding train to escape Tahēsh.

“Um, so …” I peeked at the guild bartender. “How long have you been friends with Aaron and Kai and Ezra?”

“Since my first day at the guild, pretty much.” A teasing smile quirked her lips. “Aaron is single.”

I twitched. “What?”

“I know he’s giving you the cold shoulder, but he’s actually a really great guy.”

She’d barely finished speaking when I snapped, “I’m not interested.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“Why does everyone assume I want to date them?” I demanded. “Just because they’re good looking? Ridiculous.”

Ignoring her amusement at my outburst, I picked up the pace. How shallow she must have thought I was to suggest I date a guy who was actively shunning me? Tori didn’t even know why he was being so cold to me—at least, I hoped she didn’t.

After a few minutes of fuming, I remembered Aaron wasn’t the mage I was interested in.

“I was wondering,” I began, “about Ezra.”

“What about him?”

How did one bring a polite conversation around to the topic of illegal secrets? “He seems nice.”

Genius segue.

“He is nice,” Tori replied shortly.

“He’s an aeromage?” I prompted.

“Yeah.”

“Is he strong?”

“Not as strong as Aaron and Kai, but pretty tough.”

“Hmm.” Was he weak enough to want to compensate with an illegal demon contract? I slid my phone from my pocket to check the directions, then led Tori off the main road and onto a narrow side street. “What happened to his eye?”

“Skiing accident. Ran into an unexpectedly aggressive pine tree.”

Frowning, I glanced at her. Her response was flippant, but all friendliness had left her eyes.

We continued deeper into the commercial strip, the businesses and warehouses long closed for the day. Our conversation petered out, except for a brief exchange where she asked rather nervously if we were going the right way. I assured her we were, and that we could walk down all the dark, abandoned streets we wanted to. I was a contractor, after all; Zylas could handle any human threat.

Our destination was a small building—two stories, bright blue roof, and cheery lights shining from the windows—tucked beside a recycling depot and easy to miss. I checked my phone one more time to confirm, then veered toward the parking lot, Tori following me.

We passed several parked vehicles and approached the frosted glass door, marked with the Odin’s Eye logo and “Private Security Services.” A security firm was a much better cover for a guild than the Grand Grimoire’s dusty games shop.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Tori gawked at the door like she’d never seen one before. “Is this Odin’s Eye? As in the guild?”

I paused with my hand on the door. “Didn’t I say that?”

“No.”

“I thought I told you that the infernus maker is an Odin’s Eye member? And his main role is Demonica consultation?”

“You did not mention that. At all.”

Because I’d learned those details after inviting her along with me. Oops. “Oh. I … um … sorry.”

She huffed. “Well, we’re here now. Let’s do this.”

The brightly lit lobby featured four plush leather chairs and a glossy reception desk. No one sat behind the computer monitors, so I hesitantly tapped the button as instructed by a small sign. A buzzer went off, muffled by the walls.

Ten seconds passed. Twenty. Thirty.

“Is anyone coming?” I mumbled.

Tori cocked a hip, unbothered by the lack of a warm welcome. “Are they expecting us?”

“Well … no. I was worried that any advance warning would make it easier for him to avoid us.”

“Fair point.” Stepping up beside me, she smirked. “Let’s find out who’s home, shall we?”

She attacked the buzzer with reckless abandon. It blared over and over from deeper in the building, and I grabbed for her hand to stop her.

A door banged open with aggressive force, and a thickly muscled man with a dusky complexion and short black hair burst in, his heavy brows drawn over angry eyes.

It was the Grand Grimoire all over again. I should’ve sent Amalia with Tori. They were a matched pair.

“Who the hell—” The man’s furious outburst cut off. “Tori?”

“Hey Mario. What’s up?”

The Odin’s Eye mythic grinned broadly. “What brings you out here? I can’t remember the last time a Hammer came ’round to our guild.”