Slaying Monsters for the Feeble - Annette Marie Page 0,4
It was the first time I’d ever forced him to do anything.
Heels clacked in the hallway outside. I spun around, my elation shriveling into dread. The footsteps snapped loudly, then the librarian stepped into the open doorway, shock and anger stamped across her face.
Damn that demon.
Chapter Two
Sometimes, being a shrimpy waif of a twenty-year-old girl came in handy. My acting skills weren’t great, but I hadn’t needed to fake my tearful, hand-wringing apologies to the librarian. Nor had it been much of a stretch to insist that I hadn’t broken the door. I’d been on my way to the bathroom when I noticed it was open. That’s all.
Deciding I was too young, innocent, and wimpy to break through magically locked doors, she’d sighed, told me to leave, and started inspecting the restoration room for anything missing. Thank goodness I’d stopped Zylas from breaking the cabinet’s padlock.
Thirty minutes later, I was getting off a bus in the shabby Downtown Eastside. The chill air threatened rain and I pulled my jacket tighter against the December wind. With no desire to linger, I hurried past a rundown bike repair shop and a tattoo parlor with barred windows.
Twenty yards ahead, a three-story, cube-shaped building squatted between a small parking lot and a construction site, its shadowed doorway almost lost in its blank façade. Pulling out my phone, I checked for messages—none—then sent a quick text to Amalia, reminding her not to be late.
Steeling myself—this was my guild and I shouldn’t be afraid of it—I approached the door, a faded crow and mallet painted on the black wood. Above it, Old English lettering spelled out, “The Crow and Hammer.” It’d been over a month since I’d first set foot inside, and I’d only been back a few times. Partly because I’d caught the worst flu of my life—probably a result of all the preceding stress—and partly because … well …
With an unsteady breath, I reminded myself I was a badass demon contractor and pushed the door open. Sound rolled out, chattering voices welcoming me into the warmth and light. I slipped inside.
The pub was both cozy and spacious. Wooden chairs surrounded the polished tables, and dark beams crossed the ceiling. Opposite the door, a bar stretched across the pub’s back wall, stools lined up in front of it. A huge steel war hammer was affixed to the wall above the liquor cabinets.
I moved toward the nearest table, keeping well away from the small groups of mythics around the bar. Everyone was busy catching up, laughter peppering the exuberant conversations. Tonight was the guild’s monthly meeting, and every member was gathering for a solid hour of updates, presentations, and group training.
Rubbing my hands together to warm them, I allowed myself to relax. This wasn’t so bad. The atmosphere was a thousand times better than at my last guild. I even dared to unzip my coat and hang it on the back of a chair.
No one had noticed me, and I was perfectly okay with that. Being noticed was one of my least favorite things, especially when everyone here knew everyone else—and I knew no one.
The guild door swung open with the cheerful jingle of a bell. A tall, willowy woman a bit older than me and an even taller, ruggedly built man waltzed in. Her dark hair hung loose around her, and his was pulled into a shaggy topknot.
“We’re here!” the guy called. “Not even late this time!”
Chuckles ran through the guild, faces turning toward them and hands waving in greeting.
“Kier, Kaveri!”
“Whoa, they’re on time!”
The couple swept toward the group. The newcomers hadn’t spotted me, but with their entrance, others had. I couldn’t lurk in the corner any longer, not without looking like a total weirdo. Gulping, I trailed after the couple, each step carrying me closer to the terrifying prospect of social interaction.
I scanned the Crow and Hammer mythics. Ranging from eighteen to middle-aged, many of them exuded an air of toughness. Instinctively, I veered toward a group closer to my age, but when I met their eyes, hostility hit me like an icy wave.
That was the other reason I hadn’t spent any time at the guild.
“Well, well,” drawled a large man with brown hair and a thick beard that made his age difficult to guess. “If it isn’t the little contractor.”
Beside him, a guy with a rangy build and a wide smirk scanned me from head to toe as though debating whether he could pick me up with one hand.