Hunting Fiends for the Ill-Equipped (The Guild Codex Demonized #3) - Annette Marie Page 0,6
infernus, they’d probably ask this guy for information.”
Hope sparked. “Where is he now?”
“In Vancouver somewhere. I’ll call Dad and find out.”
“Good idea.”
“Finding the amulet is only half the problem, though.” She lowered her voice. “I don’t think you should just hand over the ‘key to everything’ to a demon until we know what it does.”
I glanced at Zylas. “He can hear you.”
She muttered a curse. “You should come home and start translating. The grimoire is our best source of information.”
“I’ll be home soon. We’re making one stop first.”
“Suit yourself. Hey, bring me some Thai, would you?”
“Sure.”
As I slid my phone back into my pocket, Zylas drifted closer. “The imailatē belongs to my House.”
“I know. If we find it, it’s yours.” I rubbed my chilled hands together. “I don’t want to get distracted from returning you to your world, but I have a feeling this amulet will be part of that. What if Myrrine meant it’s the key to Demonica?”
Zylas’s hands caught mine, enclosing my icy fingers in warmth. “You are too cold, drādah.”
“I’m fine,” I squeaked, yanking on my hands. “I’m not hypothermic this time.”
He pressed my fingers between his palms. “You will give the imailatē to me?”
Distracted, I frowned at him. “I don’t need to give it to you. It belongs to you.”
“Maybe it is powerful.”
“It’s still yours. I wouldn’t keep it from you.”
“Amalia would.”
My frown deepened. Why did he use Amalia’s name, but never mine? All I got were insulting nicknames. “Amalia doesn’t trust you, but that’s your own fault.”
“Na, my fault?”
“If you were even a little bit nice to her, she would think better of you.”
“Nice?” he scoffed. “Nice does not make trust.”
I tugged on my hands again as I muttered, “It wouldn’t hurt.”
“Do you trust me, drādah?”
My gaze shot up to his. I opened my mouth but no words made it past my tight throat. Did I trust him? Of course I did, except …
I cleared my throat. “Do you trust me?”
He watched me silently—then suddenly pulled me closer. His hand cupped the back of my head, and he pushed his warm face into the side of my neck. His breath slid under my jacket collar, tickling my shoulder.
“Your heart is fast.” He lifted his face. “You are not too cold.”
I gaped as my very non-hypothermic heart galloped across my ribs. “I know. I told you that.”
“You should go to a warm place.”
“It’s not that cold, Zylas, and I’m not soaking wet.”
“Go to a warm place, drādah.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, I’m going.”
A wolfish grin flashed across his lips, then his body turned to red light. His demonic spirit streaked toward my chest, and the infernus hidden under my jacket vibrated. His abandoned black sweater dropped to the ground.
Bundling the sweater under my arm, I stuffed my hands in my pocket and hurried out of the park. An irregular stream of cars zipped past as I headed west on Powell Street. After a few blocks, I turned. Waiting on the next corner, its windows glowing, was my guild.
Muffled noise leaked out of the building—sounded like it was busy—and I reached for the wooden door.
It flew open before I could touch it. A huge man burst out, almost bowling me over as I backpedaled.
“Oh, sorry,” he said on his way by. Three more men and two women followed him, and all six looked ready to step into an MMA ring and kick ass. Definitely combat mythics.
A final woman walked out, long black hair fluttering behind her. She flashed me a smile before joining the others, who were climbing into a pair of vehicles parked at the curb. I blinked at the group. Was I supposed to know them? They didn’t seem familiar.
With a mental shrug, I slipped through the door before it closed. The pub was crowded for a Wednesday night, and I slunk into the nearest corner and set Zylas’s sweater on a table. After a moment, I unzipped my jacket and added it on top. Chatter filled the space, and I scanned the gathered mythics. Some familiar faces, some strangers, and—
My gaze reached the bar and stuttered.
Tori, the redheaded bartender, stood behind the bar, speaking to a pair of men across from her: blue-eyed, copper-haired pyromage Aaron and dark-haired, handsome electramage Kai.
The last time I’d seen those two had been in the Arcana Atrium. They’d stood on either side of Zora as she’d informed me that, from now on, she would be monitoring my every move to ensure I didn’t break any MPD laws beyond