“Every mythic is supposed to be registered by eighteen. If all the cultists are rogues, then we’re SOL, but if even one of them is registered, we can find them.”

“Hmm. Would the assassin be in the database too?”

“Probably not. Assassins don’t usually play by the MPD’s rules. Besides, we don’t know anything about them, so we can’t look them up.”

As I spoke, I racked my brain again for some inkling of who’d messed with my head, but I had nothing to go on. Anyone from the barista to a random passerby could’ve poisoned my mind.

“So,” I declared determinedly, “let’s see what we can figure out about the cultists.”

I listed each cult member in the first column of my spreadsheet, labeling them from one to twelve based on their position in the circle. I added the Praetor too, since we didn’t know his name yet.

Justin picked up my phone, started the video—sound muted—and watched it play for a moment. “Let’s see … the first cultist is female, medium brown hair, between five-foot-three and five-foot-six, and between a hundred and thirty pounds and a hundred and fifty. I can’t tell her eye color.”

I blinked repeatedly, then typed the details into my spreadsheet at top speed. Why was I surprised? My brother might know next to nothing about mythics, but he knew how to profile suspects.

“Okay,” I said brightly. “That’s it for Cultist Number One. How about Number Two?”

He skipped forward through the video, searching for a better view of the second cultist. “Tori … did you overhear Aaron and I talking earlier?”

My gut twisted. “Yeah.”

His finger paused on the phone screen. “I’m sorry for—”

“Forget about it.”

“But—”

“You’re worried that I can’t keep up with Aaron, Kai, and Ezra. They’re powerful, combat-trained mages and I’m a … Yeah, it’s a legit concern. But I’m not like I used to be, you know. I don’t just impulsively charge headfirst into danger.”

Well … to be honest, I still did that occasionally, but it wasn’t impulsive anymore. I was deciding to charge headfirst into danger.

I wasn’t sure that was any better, though.

“I can see that,” he said softly. “You’ve changed. It’s good, I think.”

My gaze flicked to him, then back to the laptop screen. He rattled off the details of another cultist, which I added to the spreadsheet.

“But I’m scared for you, too,” he added as I finished typing, so quietly I almost couldn’t hear him. “You’ve already had to kill to defend yourself. How long until someone kills you?”

“That won’t happen. I have the guys to protect me, and—”

“I heard what Aaron said before we left. He could kill you.” Justin shook his head. “I’ve patrolled the worst streets in the Eastside, full of raving addicts and gang members, and I’ve never felt fear like I did when that demon appeared last night.”

“Demons are really scary,” I agreed in a mumble.

“What makes all that worth it, Tori?” His gaze probed me, but I didn’t look up. “Why are you so determined to be part of such a dangerous world?”

“It’s not all danger and ugliness, Justin. There’s beauty and wonder too.” I nudged my combat belt, tucked under the dash near my feet, with a toe. “Hoshi?”

Silver scales burst from the back pouch. The sylph rose into the air, her undulating tail filling the front of the vehicle. Even though he’d briefly seen her at my apartment before our pre-Christmas argument, Justin recoiled, pressing against the driver’s door.

“You remember Hoshi, right?” I stroked her smooth neck. “She’s a fae—my familiar. We’re friends.”

“Friends?”

“She talks to me with color and images in my head. It’s pretty cool.” I rubbed under her chin. “Hoshi, this is my brother, Justin. He’s never met a fae before.”

She canted her head, studying him with fuchsia eyes. He forced his limbs to relax, his throat moving with a swallow.

“Hello, Hoshi.”

The jeweled tip of her tail flicked, then she stretched her neck out and sniffed at his shoulder.

“There’s so much that’s amazing about the mythic world,” I explained, struggling to find the right words. “Creatures like Hoshi and other fae, and magic like you can’t even imagine, and people too. The people are just …” A grin tugged at my lips. “At the Crow and Hammer, at least, they’re all misfits like me. I’ve never fit in anywhere before, but I fit in with them. It’s where I belong.”

Justin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know it feels like this guild is the only place where you can belong, but … but I bet everyone in that garage last night would say the exact same thing about their group.”

A tremor ran through me. My throat tightened, hurt and fury slashing through me.

“I’m just saying—” he began hastily.

“I think you’ve said enough,” I snapped. “Let’s focus on our job.”

He returned his attention to the video and searched for a good view of the third cultist.

I stared at the laptop screen without seeing it. Hoshi had drifted into the back of the vehicle to peer over the seats at our luggage. I wished I could get out of the SUV, but I couldn’t draw attention to us. I wanted to be alone so badly.

My gaze shifted to my phone, in Justin’s hand, and I realized that wasn’t quite true. I wanted to be with Ezra.

I wanted to hear his smooth, soothing tones that soaked into my very essence. His quiet smile, his mismatched eyes warm with understanding. He’d hold me in one of his amazing hugs, then he’d say the right thing to ease the storm in my heart—a straight-faced joke, a funny story, or a simple question about what I needed.

But I couldn’t talk to him because he didn’t want anything to do with me. I’d trampled all over everything that mattered to him in my attempt to save him.

That burning was back in my eyes, but I wouldn’t cry. Not again. I’d shed enough tears on this trip already, and no way was I going to—

The car door beside me opened.

My head jerked up, and expecting to find Aaron standing there, I twisted toward the door—just as a single stupid tear broke free and trickled down my cheek.

“What’s wrong, Tori?”

I blinked at the man beside my door. Blinked again. “Are you a mirage?”

“No.”

“Am I sleeping?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Then … you’re actually real?”

A bemused smile. “Last I checked, yes.”

A shudder began somewhere in the vicinity of my diaphragm, then burst outward to fill my limbs with frenetic energy.

“Kai!” I gasped, leaping out of the car.

Somehow, he caught both me and the laptop that went flying off my thighs. Not caring one little bit about Aaron’s thin, expensive techno-toy, I clamped my arms around Kai’s neck and mashed my face into his leather-clad shoulder.

“It’s only been a few days,” he muttered—but despite his words, his arm was tight around my middle.

“Feels way longer.” I pushed back, holding his shoulders as I scanned him. “Look at your sexy ass. Nice getup.”

Leather covered him, padded motorcycle pants clinging to his legs and a badass jacket enhancing the breadth of his shoulders. Add his dark hair, tousled from wearing a helmet, and a faint flush from the cold brightening his cheeks, and he was oozing hunkitude all over the place.

Damn, I had hot friends.

Grinning broadly, I glanced around for his motorcycle—and did a double take when I saw two sleek red bikes parked behind the SUV. And I did a quadruple take at the leather-clad woman leaning against the second one, her helmet visor pushed up to reveal her cold stare fixed on me.

“You brought her?” I hissed disbelievingly. The urge to storm over there and kick her good and hard in the shin was strong. Very strong. I hadn’t forgotten that it was her signature on Kai’s guild transfer paperwork. She’d stolen him from us, and I didn’t care what bullshit she spouted about her reasons. What she really wanted was a fresh chance to make him fall in love with her.

Fat. Freaking. Chance.

Kai tugged me into another embrace, and hiding his face beside mine, he whispered, “I may have led her to believe that a trip together was a good opportunity to rekindle a closer relationship.”

I grunted angrily.

“Why is your brother here?” he asked.

“Long story.” In my peripheral vision, I could see Justin lurking on the SUV’s far side, eyeing the newcomers. Probably wondering if they were scary magic criminals.

In this case, he’d be right.

As Kai set the rescued laptop on the SUV’s roof, Makiko sauntered toward us, her sleek black hair flowing neatly down her back, somehow untangled by the wind of their highway ride. Maybe it was an advanced aeromage trick.

“Tori,” she said coolly.

“Makiko,” I replied with just as much ice. “So kind of you to loosen Kai’s chains for a few days.”

Kai sighed. “Can we focus? Tori, where are we at?”

“Well, so far—”

My earpiece crackled. “Tori, you there?”

I fumbled for the controls and unmuted my mic. “Yes, Aaron, I’m here. What is it?”

“We just searched the Praetor’s bedroom.” The tinny speaker couldn’t hide the bleakness in his voice. “And I think we have a problem.”

A few minutes later, we’d convened at the SUV for a quick meeting to discuss said problem.

The issue? Mr. Praetor had flown the coop.

Aaron and Blake had found clear signs that the man had packed a bag and skipped town. Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, and shaving tools were gone from his bathroom, and large gaps in the contents of his dresser drawers revealed missing socks and underwear. And most damning of all, the tapestry with the crown-in-a-circle emblem was missing from the detached garage.