“It’s also an inefficient way to break into my club.”

“They’re all inefficient.” Eve’s tone was dry. “Everyone knows the Shifters’ Guild guards that place like it contains the holy grail.”

“I like to do my part for the economy.”

Mac scoffed. “The shifters sell protection services to anyone, and they’ve got plenty of work coming in elsewhere.”

The Devil smiled. “Be that as it may”—his gaze turned to me—“Carrow, this may be a threat to the city as well as a threat to my empire. I could use your help. I’d pay you well.”

“Ah—”

“Can I speak to you, Carrow?” Mac’s voice was sharp.

“Um, yeah.” I watched the Devil warily as I followed her to the back room of Eve’s shop.

The Fae proprietor followed, turning back to point at the Devil. “I’m watching you. Don’t touch anything.”

The little room at the back was cluttered with Eve’s most valuable potions. Mac whirled around as soon as we entered. “You are not seriously thinking of doing this, are you?”

“Um—” I frowned. “He’s not so bad. He retrieved my books for me from my flat last week, remember?”

“That was nice, I’ll give him that,” Eve said. “I know how important those were to you.”

They’d come from my friend Beatrix, who’d been murdered last year. They were all I had of hers, and he’d left them for me in my new flat.

“The books aren’t the issue right now. You know what the Oracle said. Remember her?” Mac raised her brow. “That all-powerful seer who looks too legit to quit?”

I did remember the seer. She’d grabbed me at the Witches’ Masquerade, her ghostly form flickering from old to young, and told me that the Devil and I were Cursed Mates.

“Do you really believe it, though?” I asked. “This Cursed Mates thing seems…”

“Fated Mates are real, and while I don’t know anything about Cursed Mates, there’s no way it’s a good thing,” Mac said.

“It’s quite difficult to put a nice spin on the word cursed.” Eve shot me an apologetic look.

“You’re not wrong about that.” I sighed and leaned back against the wall.

Eve raised a hand. “Oh, careful there!”

I straightened. “Right, right. Valuable potions.”

“Dangerous potions.” She pointed to the left of my head. “See the blue ones? They’ll blow your head clean off.”

“Oookay, then.” I stepped away from the wall, vowing to be more careful from now on.

“Well?” Mac said. “You’re saying no, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m saying no.” I wasn’t sure I believed in the damned concept of Cursed Mates, even though it scared the hell out of me. But Mac and Eve were my Yodas in this new world, and I would listen to them. “Let’s go.”

I returned to the room to find the Devil standing still as a statue. It was eerie how he did that—almost as if he could turn to stone. Apparently, he really was immortal—at least in the sense that he wouldn’t age, though he could be killed by trauma—and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a coping technique meant to deal with the misery of being alive forever.

“I hope you’re going to say yes.” His voice was impossibly smooth, a caress across my skin.

“No. I’m sorry. I’m busy here.”

“You’re frightened.”

I bristled. “No, I’m smart. And I’m serious. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to have anything to do with some random man who broke into your club.” I shrugged. “I can’t control what I see anyway, so maybe I couldn't help you.”

“Practice would give you more control of your magic.”

If I did this, we’d have to spend time together. Probably be close to each other…

It was tempting.

And the Council of Guilds was going to come after me if I didn’t get a handle on my magic. Especially now that it seemed to be growing stronger in a way that I couldn’t explain.

But…

“No.” My words were firm. “But thank you.”

He nodded. His face was expressionless. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but you’ve made your wishes clear.”

“You’re going to come back and ask again, aren’t you?” Mac demanded.

“I might.”

Oh, he would. This wouldn’t be the last I’d see of him.

“Thank you for your time, ladies.” He turned and disappeared through the door, all grace and smoothness.

I looked at the others. “That was unexpected.”

“Really?” Mac crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And honey, that man trying to get close is the least unexpected thing ever.”

“She’s right.” Eve grimaced. “But you can’t forget the Cursed Mates thing. That could be deadly.”

I swallowed hard. She was right. I looked toward the door. “I hope I didn’t piss him off. He’s powerful, and I’m new in town.”

“He’s used to getting what he wants,” Mac said. “But we’ve got your back.”

I nodded shakily and turned to Eve’s desk. “Let me take a look at that second object.”

“Thanks.” She walked around it to retrieve the golden chalice she’d asked me to look at.

The door to the shop jingled again, and I turned, expecting to see the Devil of Darkvale. Instead, a man and a woman in dark trousers and red jackets emblazoned with the crest of the Council of Guilds stood there. As with all supernaturals in Guild City, their magical signatures were on lockdown, but I could still get a feeling for what they were.

Shifters.

Something about them, a leonine grace or the cunning in their eyes, made me think of animals.

All guilds in the city sold something, and the shifters sold protection services and fighting forces. Which meant that these two were basically the cops of Guild City.

“Penelope. Garreth.” Mac’s voice was a bit cold. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re here to escort Guild City’s newest citizen to a meeting with the Council.”

What the hell?

Had the Devil set this up? Was this retaliation for my refusal to help him?

My gaze flashed to Mac’s and Eve’s, and I swore I saw the same questions reflected there.

But no, the Devil had just left. Would he really have had time to arrange this?

He was powerful. He could have had them waiting on standby. Would he really have done that? Thrown me under the bus?

You don’t know him.

The thought flashed, and it was so true. We’d shared an almost-kiss that had nearly made me lose my mind and a bite that had definitely made me lose my mind, but I didn’t know what it had meant to him.

And there was that little matter of the Cursed Mates thing.

He wasn’t on my side.

I couldn’t forget it.

I shoved him from my mind and looked at the two shifters. “Okay, I’m coming.”

Garreth pulled something from his pocket, and I spotted two golden bangles. They looked like bracelets, but from the way Mac gasped and Eve scowled, I knew they couldn’t be.

“Really?” Mac said. “Magicuffs?”

“You know the rules, Mac. She isn’t in a guild, which makes her dangerous. Illegal.”

“No person is illegal.”

“This one is,” Garret said.

“She’s new in town,” Eve said.

“She’s been here a week,” Penelope said. “More than enough time to approach the Council about joining a guild.”

“They require this.” Garreth held up the cuffs. “Not us. Let us do our jobs.”

Mac growled, but I held up a hand. “It’s fine.”

This guild member stuff was serious. And I’d known I was supposed to join one—Mac had explained how things worked here. But I’d been nervous. I didn’t have control of my magic or my magical signature, so I’d hesitated, reluctant to approach the Council on uneven footing.

Apparently, they weren’t willing to wait.

Or the Devil had sped up our meeting.

Either way, I was going there now, and I was doing it in handcuffs.

2

The Devil

Disappointment flickered through me as I walked away from Eve’s shop. Idly, I rubbed my chest, totally unfamiliar with the feeling. It had been centuries since I’d felt like this.

One, because I rarely wanted anything.

And two, because if I did want something, I got it.

And I wanted Carrow.

Not just her help, but the woman herself.

And damned if it wasn’t strange.

Faint morning sunlight flickered though a large tree that grew up through one of the Fae shops. The trees were a rarity in London, but there were quite a few here in Guild City, especially around the Fae enclaves.

Sunlight sparkled through the green leaves, and I marveled that I could now see the brilliant colors. That I could now smell the freshness of the leaves and taste the dawn on the air. Feel of the cool morning breeze on my skin.

Because of Carrow.

She’d brought me back to life. Her blood, specifically. I’d drunk the blood of thousands over the years. First, in a frenzy. When I’d been made nearly five hundred years ago, I’d fallen into the blood lust that plagued all turned vampires.

Unlike most of them, I’d survived, keeping to the shadows so the vampire hunters wouldn’t find me.

But I’d never drunk blood like hers. It had returned the sharp senses the turning had stolen. Back then, I’d retained my excellent hearing, but the rest…gone. I’d had new skills to compensate, but I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed seeing the full spectrum of color in the world. Smelling and tasting and feeling.