Hunting Fiends for the Ill-Equipped (The Guild Codex Demonized #3) - Annette Marie Page 0,81

hair. I might have faced some fears, but I wasn’t ready to face my cousin.

The doorknob turned.

Daimon, hesychaze!

Zylas’s body dissolved all around me, and I thumped to the floor as his power streaked into the infernus sitting on the coffee table beside the bowl of strawberries.

The door swung open and Amalia breezed in. “Sorry, meant to be back sooner! Are you ready for our meet—”

She broke off, staring at me.

“H-hi,” I stammered weakly, hoping she couldn’t tell how out of breath I was. Not to mention my flushed face. Rumpled clothes. Mussed hair.

Her eyes narrowed, then she shook her head violently. “I don’t want to know. Are you ready to leave or what?”

“Leave?” I mumbled, dying of embarrassment.

“For our meeting!” She threw her hands up. “The abjuration expert?”

I shot to my feet, looking around wildly. Why didn’t our apartment have a clock? A big one I could see from the sofa? “Right, sorry! Just give me a minute to put the grimoire away.”

“Yeah, sure.” She rolled her eyes. “Take your time.”

I scooped up the grimoire, my notes, and the infernus and hauled them into my room. Catching my breath, I set it all on the mattress and stared at the infernus. My fingers crept to my lips and pressed against swollen, sensitive skin.

Less than three months ago, in an alley somewhere downtown, Zylas had licked blood off my wrist. And I distinctly remembered how, while lurching away from him in disgust, I’d declared that I never wanted to know what he tasted like.

So much for that.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The library was exactly what I needed to settle the jitters in my limbs—and my heart. Quiet, peaceful, the air tinged with the scent of paper and leather. Books, unlike a certain demon and my feelings for him, I understood perfectly.

Amalia surveyed the large room, glanced at the unmanned desk where the librarian normally worked, and huffed. “Are they late, or did they leave because we’re late?”

I winced guiltily.

“I’ll go look for the librarian. Wait here in case they walk in the moment I leave.”

“Sure.”

I managed to stand still for about thirty seconds, then headed for a nearby display labeled “Guild Favorites.” Humming, I browsed the titles. I almost picked up Mythics in Music, which featured an intriguing photo of a violin in the center of an Arcana array, but instead lifted The Visual Art of Luminamages off the shelf. Flipping it open, I read an introduction to the complexities of light magic.

With frequent glances toward the front desk and closed doors, I meandered farther into the library. Why were books so irresistible? I wanted to read them all. Taking mental note of several titles to check out after our meeting with the abjuration expert, I walked past a dim aisle and did a double take.

I wasn’t alone in the library.

A young woman around my age stood with an open textbook in her hands, reading it intently. Her thick black hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and dangling from the tie was an eclectic collection of baubles. A brown satchel hung off her shoulder, more charms clipped to the strap.

Glancing up at me, she turned just enough that I could glimpse the title of her book: Advanced Abjuration for Combat and Defense.

My gaze shot back to her face. No way. This girl couldn’t be our abjuration expert … could she?

“Are you Lienna Shen?” I asked hesitantly.

“I am.”

I squinted at her. Maybe she just looked young enough to get carded at every bar?

She arched an eyebrow. “Are you Amalia Harper?”

“Huh? No, I’m Robin. Amalia is my cousin. She arranged this meeting.” I glanced around for said cousin. “She, um … she should be right back.”

Lienna closed her book and slid it onto a shelf. I watched her, burning with curiosity. Abjuration took years to learn, so how could Lienna have mastered it already? I suddenly felt like an academic slouch.

“Well, uh … while we wait for Amalia …” I dug into my pocket and pulled out my drawing of the amulet. “This is the spell we’re hoping for some help with.”

Taking the paper, Lienna peered at it, her brown eyes darting across the tiny, detailed array on the amulet’s reverse side.

“It’s abjuration, right?” I asked, oddly nervous.

“Hmm. Yes and no.”

My brow crinkled.

She pointed to the top of the array. “These elements are commonly used in high-level abjuration, but this here—are those demonic runes? What is this drawing depicting? An artifact of some kind?”

“It’s a research project I’m working on. I’m trying to reconstruct what