Aaron’s and Kai’s jaws dropped to match Justin’s.

My hand clenched around the scepter’s handle, the amulet hanging from it. “And if we’re lucky, we can steal the cult grimoire out from under those bastards before they realize we’re coming—and before we sic every guild in the city on them.”

After endless hours driving down endless highways, I should’ve been delighted to be back home. Aaron’s home, technically, but still home.

We hadn’t made great time. Halfway across the Columbia River Basin, the SUV had blown a tire. Aaron and Kai had swiftly swapped it out for the flimsy spare, and we’d limped into a town, but between finding a service shop, waiting for it to open, and having the tire replaced, we’d lost several hours.

But we’d made it, and I now stood in the center of the living room. Aaron and Kai stood with me, and together we formed a triangle, facing each other.

“Ezra texted us an hour ago that he’d be out for a bit,” I said, bouncing my phone on one hand. “He wants to know when we’re back in town. Should I call him?”

Aaron rubbed his stubbly chin. “Can we dump the reveal of the cult’s survival on him, then immediately drag him into their stronghold—or whatever we find in that cemetery?”

“He said he wanted to fight.”

“But he doesn’t know who or what we’re going up against.”

I bit the inside of my cheek.

“Let’s not risk it,” Kai murmured. “We almost lost him a week ago. That isn’t much recovery time.”

Relenting, I nodded.

Aaron brushed his hands together decisively. “Let’s gear up, then. The Court probably doesn’t know we’re on to them, but we shouldn’t waste any time. Who knows how long it’ll take them to pick up and move again?”

Kai agreed, then hastened for the basement where Makiko had disappeared—to freshen up in the bathroom, probably—while Aaron marched up the stairs, heading for his room to change and weaponize himself. I watched them go, my chest tight and hands clenched. My only set of combat clothes was in my suitcase in the SUV, and as for weaponizing myself …

Two alchemy bombs and Hoshi. That was all I had left to contribute.

Swallowing the nausea building in my gut, I swept through the kitchen and out the back door. The chilly January air bit into my cheeks as I crossed the yard and passed through the open gate. The unhitched trailer we’d used to haul Kai’s and Makiko’s bikes dominated half the parking pad.

Beside the trailer, the SUV was lit up, rear hatch open. Justin stood beneath it, sorting through his duffle bag to ensure he had all his stuff before heading home.

He glanced up when I joined him. A purple bruise darkened one temple from his encounter with Daniel and Anand outside the Keys guild.

“Hey.” He haphazardly folded a wrinkled shirt and tucked it in his bag. “I thought you were getting ready for battle with a demon cult.”

I plucked the shirt out and refolded it. “I’m not sure I’m going.”

“What do you mean?”

Frowning at my folding job, I shook it out and tried again. “What good have I done this whole time? I’ll just get in their way.”

Justin faced me, but I kept my attention on the shirt as I carefully smoothed the sleeves out.

“I’ve been useless.” I tugged on the shirt’s collar. “I didn’t stop a single mythic we came up against—except for when I accidentally killed Russel. How awful is that? Hoshi has been more useful than me. I should just send her with the guys and stay home.”

Sliding the shirt into his bag, I stared at my all too human hands. “You’ve been asking questions about whether I was qualified to do these things, whether it was safe or a good idea … I was never qualified. It was always a bad idea, and I just kept telling myself I could handle it.”

“Tori,” he murmured.

My fingers closed into tight fists. “You asked Aaron if I can play in his league. I can’t. I’m not a combat mythic or a bounty hunter. I’m just a bartender.”

Justin sat on the bumper. “You know that’s bullshit.”

My gaze snapped to him.

“You don’t do things all neat and tidy, Tori. You’re a messy person. You storm around and shake things up and cause chaos. You’ve always been like that.”

I frowned at him. “If that was supposed to be a compliment, it sucked.”

“You didn’t neatly arrest anyone, but you found answers, escaped danger, and got your friends into and out of all that alive.” He grimaced. “I may have had several heart attacks along the way, but you survived it all.”

“That was just luck, though. If anything had—”

“Surviving by the skin of your teeth once is luck. Doing it over and over again is something else.” He squinted at me. “You know you aren’t useless, Tori. What’s the real problem?”

I stared back at him, then sank down to sit on the bumper beside him. My chest had tightened again, familiar insecurity settling deep in my bones.

“I wanted to be a mythic so badly,” I whispered. “I wanted to be special and kick ass and do things other people can’t do. But then I lost almost all the magic I’d collected, and I realized I can act like tough shit all I want, but when the cards are down, I’m just a human.”

“So am I. Is that such a bad thing?”

I twitched like he’d jabbed me in the ribs.

“You could kick ass and do things other people couldn’t before you ever heard the word ‘mythic.’” He arched his eyebrows. “Magic doesn’t make you an invincible superhero. If I’m useless because I couldn’t stop Russel’s men, then so is Makiko. She was captured too.”

He tilted his head back, staring through the hatch’s window at the evening sky. “When I joined you for this trip, I thought you’d need my protection. But you didn’t. You knew when to jump in—and you knew when to stand back and let your friends take the front line.”

I frowned.

“Are you worried you’d be endangering your friends by going with them to that cemetery? Or are you afraid you’re too human to be there?”

My lungs constricted. “I don’t have any magic, Justin.”

Twisting toward his bag, he dug inside it. When he turned back to me, he held his pistol by the barrel.

“Then take this,” he said quietly. “And instead of being ‘just a human,’ you’ll be a tough-ass human with a gun.”

I stared at him. “Are you, uh, allowed to loan that out?”

He shrugged mysteriously. The cold handle pressed against my hand, and I realized I’d reached for it. My fingers curled around the grip.

Headlights flashed at the end of the alley. Glancing toward the vehicle, Justin pushed to his feet. “That’s my ride.”

I watched him collect his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he gave me a long, assessing look—then smiled. It was a familiar smile that had soothed my fears since I was sixteen.

“Whether you go or not, Tori, I know you’ll make the best choice for you and your friends.”

I clutched the gun, my voice muted by a surge of emotion.

He started down the alley. “And if you need me, all you have to do is call. I can be a tough-ass human too.”

I grinned through the tears filming my eyes. “I know it.”

The car waiting at the end of the alley gave a short beep, and Justin waved as he hurried toward it. A car door opened and closed, then the vehicle pulled away.

For a long moment, I studied the gun in my hand, then set it down in the back of the SUV. Riffling through our luggage, I found my combat belt. The alchemy bombs clinked as I wrapped the leather around my waist and buckled it.

Retrieving the gun, I weighed it in my hand, then slid it into the empty holster at my hip.

My grin widened, baring my teeth. I heaved my suitcase out, shut the hatch, and sped back across the yard to the house. We had a job to do, and no time to waste.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Capilano View Cemetery was a twenty-minute drive from Aaron’s house—across the downtown core, through Stanley Park, over the Lions Gate Bridge, and into West Vancouver.

As I climbed out of the SUV, parked in the cemetery’s small lot, I peered toward the out-of-sight harbor. How unbelievable—and infuriating—that the heart of the Court could be this close, and we’d had no idea.

Darkness had fallen, and I checked for the flashlight clipped to my belt. With a final peek at my phone—no updates from Ezra, who was still out on whatever errand had lured him away from home—I switched it to silent and tucked it in the belt pouch that used to hold the Queen of Spades. In another pouch was the demon amulet, and hanging from a loop opposite my flashlight was the cult scepter.

I didn’t have any real use for it, but you never knew when a stolen artifact might come in handy.

Aaron joined me, adjusting the baldric on his shoulder. No zippered case this time—Sharpie was on full display. Black combat clothing covered him from head to toe, from his fireproof shirt and protective vest to his strategically padded leather pants and steel-toed boots.

With near-silent footfalls, Kai circled the back of the vehicle. He was in full combat gear as well, his slim, SWAT-style vest loaded with throwing weapons and two katana sheathed at one hip. He’d added a black knitted hat for warmth, which only slightly detracted from his Absolute Badass Level.

Makiko followed him, her delicate features somber. She’d tied her hair back in a high ponytail, which swung with each step, and a fitted black jumpsuit covered her like a second skin. Her only weapons were the two metal fans clipped to her belt.

“Okay,” I whispered, glancing around the otherwise empty parking lot. “We need to find the Court’s … uh … hideout? Evil lair? Demon-worship temple? I dunno, but we need to find something here.”

“We can skip over most of the cemetery,” Aaron murmured. “Too public and way too many visitors. Let’s head for the northern portion.”