The demon’s spell exploded and the impact hit us like a speeding car. Zylas shielded me with his body, his arms wrapped around my head. The ground shook and crimson light flared wildly.

The fierce glow faded and quiet settled over the concrete lot. Zylas laboriously lifted his head. I still couldn’t move but I could see the winged demon. It carried Claude under one arm, its wings beating hard as it flew out of range.

“Damn,” a voice muttered.

Footsteps crunched, coming nearer. Scooping my limp body against him, Zylas lurched onto unsteady feet. He got a few steps before dropping to one knee, unable to stand.

Darius and his two teammates—Girard, the guild officer I’d spoken to last night, and a volcanomage—formed a half-circle around us. Girard was unscathed, but the other two were banged up, their clothes singed and scuffed with dirt; they hadn’t escaped that magical explosion.

Zylas snarled, his arm tightening around my chest. All I could do was hang there, limp as a doll under Claude’s spell.

“Is it just me,” the volcanomage began in a deep voice, “or is that demon acting independently?”

“She could be controlling it even if she can’t move,” Girard suggested.

Darius stroked his beard. “Robin? If your demon stands down, we can remove that spell.”

Zylas, I thought at him, I think they’ll help us.

He bared his teeth. “One of you may approach.”

Identical expressions of disbelief washed over their faces. Why was he talking to them? He’d just blown our secret!

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Girard muttered. “I’ve never heard a demon talk before.”

Zylas snapped his tail against the concrete. “Stupid as every hh’ainun. Why would I not talk?”

Because you’re supposed to be contracted, I silently yelled at him.

“I bet you’ve never been insulted by a demon, either,” the volcanomage remarked dryly. “This is clearly an illegal contract, Darius.”

The GM studied Zylas, his gaze lingering on the demon’s arm around my chest. He sheathed his daggers. “Girard, a dispelling artifact, please.”

“You can’t approach it. That demon is out of control.”

He extended his palm expectantly.

Frowning in disapproval, Girard withdrew a silver marble from a pouch on his belt and dropped it in Darius’s hand. Holding the artifact, the guild master walked slowly toward us. Zylas’s fingers twisted in my sweater as the mythic knelt. With a lethal demon breathing down his neck, Darius touched the marble to my forehead and murmured an incantation too quiet for me to hear.

Cool magic swept over me and the numbness in my limbs faded. I gasped in my first deep breath since the spell had hit me.

Zylas shoved Darius’s arm away from me. “Get back.”

Instead, Darius sat on his heels. “You’re very protective of your contractor.”

Zylas’s lips peeled back. Because I knew him pretty well now, I was already lunging up. Before his slashing claws could find Darius’s flesh, I yanked Zylas’s face into my chest and clamped my arms around his head as tightly as I could.

He grabbed my shoulders to shove me off, but he was still weak from Claude’s mysterious injection—and I was holding on like my life depended on it. To make me let go, he’d have to hurt me.

He yanked furiously at my sleeves. “Payilas!”

“You can’t kill people whenever you want,” I told him breathlessly, bracing my knees against the concrete so he didn’t tip me over. “And you’re not killing someone who just saved us.”

Unable to free his head, he snarled into my shirt like a rabid wolf.

Tightening my hold, I peeked at Darius through my crooked glasses. “Um, so … I can explain.”

“Can you?” Darius muttered, crouched two feet away and staring at the demon whose face I was mashing into my boobs. Okay, it was a weird situation, but I didn’t have any better ideas on keeping Zylas under control for a few minutes.

He sank his claws into my sleeves and shredded the fabric to ribbons. Or … not so under control.

Darius rose to his feet and backed up until he’d rejoined his two teammates—who couldn’t decide what expression to wear and looked a bit dumbfounded as they gawked at me.

“Maybe you should let him go,” the GM suggested.

I relaxed my arms and Zylas jerked away from me, his eyes blazing with fury and returning power. “Kanish zh’ūltis! Eshathē dilēran!”

“Don’t call me stupid,” I growled back at him as I straightened my glasses. “You’re the stupid one! All you had to do was keep your big mouth shut so they wouldn’t know you aren’t properly contracted.”

“He already knew because he used his blindness vīsh on me!”

I faltered. “That wouldn’t work on a de—oh.”

He glowered at me. I grimaced.

“Ah,” Darius interrupted delicately. “I was wondering about that—why blindness doesn’t affect demons.”

“They have infrared vision as well as—”

“Why are you answering?” Zylas cut in. “Zh’ūltis!”

“Stop calling me stupid!”

He grabbed the front of my sweater. The three men took urgent steps closer, but Zylas merely yanked me to my feet. As he wobbled unsteadily, I put my arm around his waist, bracing him. He growled at me.

“I don’t believe what I’m seeing,” the volcanomage rumbled.

“Me neither,” Girard muttered.

Darius nodded slowly. “This is quite the conundrum, isn’t it?”

This man was a guild master. He had influence and authority in the mythic community, and I had no idea what to do now that he and his two powerful teammates knew my secret. Not only was I loath to kill anyone else, let alone the men who’d saved us, but I wasn’t sure Zylas could win against them. Not in his current condition.

The GM studied me for a long minute, then sighed heavily. His hands closed around the hilts of his silver daggers.

“I’m sorry, Robin, but your demon is clearly a danger. We have no choice but to exterminate it for the safety of—”

“No!” I leaped in front of Zylas, my arms outspread. “You can’t!”

Darius frowned. “Robin—”

“You’ll have to kill me too!” I raised my chin defiantly even as my stomach shriveled with despair. “He saved my life. He’s not enslaved to me, but he—he’s my partner. And I won’t—”

Zylas grabbed my sweater and swung me behind him. “Stupid payilas. I will protect you.”

“You can barely stand straight!” I protested as I ducked around him. He shoved me back again. “I’ll—”

“You will what? Yell at them until they die?”

I gritted my teeth. “You’re such a jerk.”

“You are mailēshta and nailis and taridis—”

“Stop insulting me!”

Darius coughed pointedly. I peered around Zylas’s arm as the GM rubbed his mouth to erase the expression off his face. “Perhaps exterminating your demon is too hasty a decision.”

Girard looked at his superior in alarm. “Darius, the law is clear that—”

“Second rule, my friend. Let’s not destroy something before we understand it.” He regarded me. “Robin, you said you can explain, and I’d very much like to hear your explanation—but now is not an ideal time. If you agree to meet with me as soon as possible, we’ll get you out of here before I call this in.”

“All right,” I agreed cautiously.

“Excellent. Girard will escort you and your companions to a healer while Alistair and I bring the MPD’s attention to the large number of Red Rum casualties.”

“How did you know about the Red Rum …” My forehead scrunched. “Actually, how did you know to be here at all?”

He smiled and tapped his nose. “Our first encounter on Halloween, and that misbehaving sorcerer, set us on the hunt. It was abundantly clear that something larger than a single loose demon was developing—and I think your explanation will fill in the final pieces of the puzzle.”

As Girard leaned over Amalia, I murmured to Zylas, “You should return to the infernus for now.” And recover your strength in case we need it later.

He heard my silent warning. With a glower toward the Crow and Hammer mythics, he dissolved into red light and swept into the infernus. I sagged in relief.

Darius stepped to my side, watching as Girard and the volcanomage carried the unconscious siblings to the road.

“By the way, Robin,” he murmured. “The expression on your demon’s face when you called him your partner was fascinating.”

My mouth dropped open.

He smiled. “I’m looking forward to hearing the whole story.”

With that, he strode after his teammates. Pulling myself together, I wondered whether trusting this man was the right call—or my worst mistake yet.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I stared at the floor between my brand-new running shoes. My old ones had been so stained with blood I’d thrown them away. I’d also bought new jeans, a sweater, and a nice coat. Resisting the pink one had been difficult, but in keeping with my new contractor title, I’d purchased a sleek black one instead.

Breathing deeply to control my nerves, I peeked up through my bangs.