Wow. Go Llyrlethiad! I hoped he was angry enough to sink every Red Rum boat he found for the next, oh, ten years ought to do it.

Still absorbing the news, I opened the envelope Clara had given me and peered at the stack of crisp bills. Ah. Look at that. Hundred-dollar bills. Lots of them.

“You can get your apartment fixed,” Aaron said.

“Or you can get a tattoo,” Ezra suggested, tapping the fae mark on my upper arm. “How about a full sleeve? A skull would look great.”

“A skull?”

“With a rose in its teeth. And a crown of thorns.” He nodded to himself. “You should get something fresh and original like that.”

I snorted so hard I almost choked, and his grin came to life.

“Tori,” he began.

A burst of cheering drowned him out.

“Whoa!” Aaron pointed across the room. “What is Bryce chugging?”

The guild’s telepath was pouring an entire bottle of something down his throat while half a dozen people chanted his name. Aaron hurried over to catch the action, and Kai followed with a smirk.

I turned back to Ezra. “What were you saying?”

As the noise level increased, he stepped close to my stool and put his mouth to my ear.

“I promised everything would go back to normal. I was wrong. It didn’t.” He leaned back to meet my questioning gaze, his mismatched eyes warm. “But I think this is better.”

Another roar from the drinking group drowned out my attempt to respond. Laughing, I caught his hand, conveying my thanks with a touch instead.

Aaron and Kai reappeared, shaking their heads.

“Crazy bastard,” Aaron remarked. “Anyway, we were planning to do a round of celebratory shots, but it might be a while before Cooper makes it back over here.”

I glanced down the bar. The man in question was flailing through a set of cocktails. Sylvia had her arms folded, her mouth twisted in a familiar disapproving scowl as he botched her precious Manhattan.

Throwing my shoulders back, I leaped off my stool. “I’ll do it!”

“No way,” Aaron protested. “You’re—”

“It’s my party. I can do whatever I want.” Sticking my tongue out at him, I grabbed the bar top and vaulted over it like I’d seen him do a dozen times—except whatever muscles or coordination he used, I didn’t possess. I belly-flopped on the wooden top, slid awkwardly across it, and half fell off the other side.

Popping upright, I tugged my shirt down and pretended I’d totally meant to do that. Aaron coughed violently, and I applied my powers of delusion to also pretend he wasn’t laughing.

“Okay, Tori.” Kai’s dark eyes sparkled with mirth as he scanned the room. “Thirty glasses ought to do it.”

I twitched. “Uh, thirty? Not … four?”

Aaron cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Oy, noisy dipshits! It’s time for shots!”

The rambunctious conversations paused for about two seconds, then everyone surged toward the bar. Cooper grabbed the bottle of special-occasion whiskey and raced over. Eyes wide, I whipped out shot glasses, and together we poured one for every mythic in the bar.

Girard, Felix, and Tabitha squeezed through the mass to take the last three shots. Everyone quieted expectantly, all eyes on the three guild officers. Grinning mischievously, Girard nudged Tabitha with his elbow. Her regal mouth thinned, then she faced the crowd and raised her glass.

“It isn’t often we welcome a new member into our ranks,” she said into the rapt silence. “She has a lot to learn, but she’s already demonstrated our most prized qualities: courage, determination, and loyalty.”

Tabitha turned to me, a subtle but sincere smile on her lips. “To Victoria—”

“Tori,” Felix corrected in a loud whisper.

“To Tori, the Crow and Hammer’s newest member!”

“To Tori!” thirty voices shouted.

As they lifted their glasses, my heart swelled to bursting. Sorcerers and alchemists. Mages and witches. Psychics and healers. Mythics with power I didn’t have and couldn’t match, but that didn’t matter—not to them, and not to me.

Magic was a tool, and I was learning to wield it. I was a mythic by choice instead of birthright, and this was my guild. This was my life—the one I’d chosen for myself.

Aaron, Kai, and Ezra held their shots, waiting for me. My three best friends. My guardians, companions, allies, family. They had so many secrets, and trouble followed them everywhere they went, but that was okay. I didn’t mind a little trouble. Or a lot of trouble.

Everything was changing and though I could scarcely grasp the consequences, I’d known for months what I was getting myself into—and I had no intention of backing out now. I was the Crow and Hammer’s mythically human bartender, and this was exactly where I belonged.

I raised my shot, and the guys raised theirs. Together, we tossed the whiskey back and slammed our glasses triumphantly on the bar top. Then I threw my hands in the air and cheered, my voice joining all the rest.