“MPD,” a male voice growled. “Put your hands in the air!”

Terror shot through me. Oh god. I was done. I was doomed. Someone had figured out I was an illegal contractor and now I was caught. Tears sprang into my eyes as I raised my shaking hands.

A moment of silence as I waited for the figurative gavel to fall.

“Oh,” the voice remarked, surprise replacing his growl. “She actually did it.”

Lienna rolled her eyes. “Kit, stop tormenting civilians.”

With another scuffing footfall, a man stepped around me—my age or a little older, tall and fit, with brown hair and a stubbly jaw. He grinned, his baby-blue eyes laughing, and held up his empty hands.

“You do know MPD agents don’t carry guns, right?” He ducked his head to get on my eye level, grin widening. “Seriously, I was only kidding. You aren’t under arrest.”

He poked my palm and I realized I still had my hands in the air. I dropped them so fast I hit my elbow on a shelf. My face burned with humiliation.

“Though …” He squinted at my face. “Wow, you’re Robin Page, aren’t you?”

Lienna’s focus snapped to me. “Robin Page?”

Kit folded his arms. “Really, Lienna? We carried her photo around for, like, two weeks.”

“My photo?” I stammered.

He gave an exaggerated shrug. “Well, you know, you showed up out of nowhere, joined the Grand Grimoire, went all John Wick on an unbound demon a few days later, then switched guilds and disappeared. You didn’t think MagiPol might notice that, just a little bit?”

My panic rushed back. “Wait … you’re actually an MPD agent?”

He plucked an ID with a shiny silver badge from his pocket and flashed it. “Kit Morris. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Agent Morris,” Lienna corrected with another eye roll. She slid a badge from her pocket. “I’m Agent Shen.”

“You’re an agent too?” I squeaked.

“You didn’t know?”

I shook my head mutely. The librarian must not have mentioned that part while gushing about the abjuration prodigy.

Kit held a hand above my head as though measuring me. “You’re shorter than I expected.”

Lienna elbowed him. “What are you even doing in here? You were supposed to wait in the car.”

“So you want me to lose both legs to a double amputation after my joints fuse from—”

“Kit.”

“The captain called,” he said primly. “We’ve been summoned.”

“Oh.” Lienna handed the illustration to me. “Sorry, Robin. We need to leave.”

“S-sure.”

She marched past me, all business, and her partner strolled after her, flashing a grin on his way by.

“Don’t worry,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll arrest you next time.”

“Kit!”

The door thudded, cutting off his laugh. I stared blankly. Was he serious? Was I on an MPD wanted list?

With a clatter, the door flew open again. Amalia strode in, scowling like a thundercloud. “The sorceress didn’t show. Can you believe—”

“They were here.” I stepped out of the aisle. “They just left.”

“She left? Wait, you don’t mean that couple I just passed—”

“MagiPol agents.”

“Huh?”

I threw my hands up in her favorite gesture. “Lienna and her partner are MPD agents! You set up a meeting with agents!”

Her face went white. “But—no way. The librarian never said anything about—”

“I guarantee you they were agents. And they recognized me. They were carrying my picture around!”

“Oh shit,” she whispered.

I looked down at the illustration of the amulet. “That’s not the ‘oh shit’ part. Lienna said the amulet array isn’t just abjuration.”

“Then what is it?”

My fingers tightened convulsively. The key to everything. Myrrine had been right.

“I think the amulet can open a portal to hell.”

“This is madness,” Amalia whispered as the cab wound through the downtown streets. “The amulet can open a portal? To the demon realm? Why would Anthea put a spell like that in an amulet that could be stolen?”

“Maybe she thought it was too dangerous to put the spell in the grimoire.”

“An amulet is just as easy to steal as a grimoire.”

I sighed. “I don’t know, Amalia. Melitta’s letter”—I’d skipped a good chunk of Myrrine’s story but had filled Amalia in on Melitta’s final plea—“said that without the amulet, we’d never know what secrets Anthea left out of the grimoire.”

Amalia swept a few loose hairs off her face. “Especially since the amulet ended up in the demon world for eons.”

“Maybe that was on purpose.” I bit my lip. “What if Anthea split up the most important magic? She kept the grimoire, and she gave the amulet—”

“To a Vh’alyir demon,” Amalia guessed. “Which is why it’s called Vh’alyir’s Amulet. But why? It doesn’t make sense.”

“I haven’t got a clue.”

The cab pulled up to our apartment. Amalia climbed out while I hurriedly paid the driver, then followed her. As I hastened up the sidewalk, my steps faltered.

Ezra leaned against the wall beside the door, arms folded.

“What are you doing here?” Amalia demanded.

“Robin invited me over. This morning?” He angled his head, peering at me. “Did you forget to tell me about a change in plans?”

Not exactly. I’d just forgotten to mention those plans to Amalia. “No, it’s fine. Come on up.”

We hastened to the apartment, shed our shoes and jackets, and headed for the living room. In the corner, Socks was sprawled across my link chart, which I’d moved from the coffee table to the empty spot where Zylas usually did puzzles. The sticky notes crinkled as she rolled onto her back and peered at us upside down.

“Right.” I nervously rubbed my hands together. “So, Claude and the sorcerers are planning to start one of the stolen spells tonight.”

“And there’s shit-all we can do about that,” Amalia announced, flopping onto the sofa, “because we don’t know where Claude or the sorcerers are.”