they robotically attempted to stand. Calm voices called to each other; the Odin’s Eye mythics must’ve defeated the attacking group.
“Vayanin.”
“I’m not klutzy,” I whimpered pathetically. “I didn’t fall. Tori knocked me down. Why are you so mean, Zylas?”
He chuffed. “You are injur—”
“Not now,” I warned him, rubbing my good hand over my face and almost dislodging my glasses a second time. “People could be watching us. You have to act contracted.”
His jaw flexed. He let his hands fall to his sides, his limbs unnaturally stiff. I wished we were alone so he could hold me up. I didn’t want to pretend to be a strong, tough contractor with her mindless demon slave.
Sniffling, I reached for his wrist. His knuckles were split and thick blood dribbled down his fingers.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I should’ve warned you sooner that hitting the golems wouldn’t work.”
How could he have guessed? Human sorcery was an unknown to him. He might be the warrior, but I was his information source—his guide in any fight against mythics. I’d failed him.
Leaning over his hand, I carefully pressed down on each bone below his bleeding knuckles, testing for weakness.
“I don’t think it’s broken,” I told him quietly. “The bones seem solid.”
His fingers flexed slightly, a subtle warning. Tired, heavy footsteps came up from behind me.
“Can he feel pain?” Tori asked, stopping a step away. “Demons look so blank all the time, like puppets …”
Her solemn tone surprised me. Few people gave any thought to demons’ suffering.
“Yes.” I gently pressed on Zylas’s thumb joint. “They all feel pain, contracted or not.”
Tori stared at his injured hand, then gave herself a shake. “We need to go.” She brushed at the layer of grit clinging to her pants. “We have to get back to the Crow and Hammer.”
I reluctantly released Zylas’s hand. “We do?”
“You should come with me. We might need you.”
“Why?”
She glanced at the massive golem, lying on its face. “Because three combat guilds have been attacked in three days. That means the Crow and Hammer is probably next.”
She started across the parking lot and I trailed after her, an inferno of agony building in my elbow. Zylas walked after me, keeping his steps wooden and his tail still. My gaze trailed across the destruction—the guild building, its front wall smashed in, smoke billowing from the holes and fire flickering from the interior; crushed pavement and crumpled cars in the parking lots; unconscious, injured, or possibly deceased men lying in heaps; the fallen two-legged golem; the four-legged ones on their sides, still glowing with magic; the Odin’s Eye mythics, smudged with soot, their faces pale and furious.
Zora had described the previous two attacks, but I hadn’t imagined anything like this—and now that I’d seen the violence for myself, I could all too easily imagine the same fate befalling the Crow and Hammer.
Chapter Seven
I shut the door to the Arcana Atrium with my good hand and turned the bolt. As a shimmer of magic ran across the door, the muffled voices from the pub below went silent; the sorcery that sealed the room was so strong it blocked out noise as well as magic.
Downstairs, guild members crowded the pub. They’d all heard about the attacks on the Pandora Knights, SeaDevils, and now Odin’s Eye, and they’d gathered at their headquarters. I wasn’t sure if they were here to protect the guild or merely for moral support.
I double-checked that the door was locked. Okay, Zylas.
With a flash of crimson light, he appeared beside me. I nodded toward the center of the room.
“You can heal your hand now,” I told him. “No one will know you’re using magic in here.”
“Vayanin—”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not clumsy. I only fall down when—”
His hand curled around the back of my neck, and he pulled my face into his shoulder.
I squawked in surprise, a leather strap from his armor pressing into my cheek. “Let me g—”
His other hand closed over my arm, just above my elbow, and agony speared the joint. A pathetic sound scraped my throat as a wash of cold magic shivered through my limb.
“Your arm is damaged. The bones are in the wrong spot and the other parts … I do not know your words … Other parts are being pulled wrong.”
I turned my face sideways so I could breathe better, my glasses askew. “I’ll be fine. You should heal your han—”
He pushed me back and before I knew what he was doing, the zipper on my jacket was undone. Holding my shoulder, he