Taming Demons for Beginners (The Guild Codex Demonized #1) - Annette Marie Page 0,75

at eleven. The rest were from Tae-min and spanned the better part of the night—informing me that I should come in immediately to see the GM. They grew progressively more urgent every time I failed to respond.

His last text told me he was heading home, but the GM was waiting at their headquarters and I should get my butt over there ASAP if I wanted to remain in the guild.

I called my voicemail and listened to the messages—all from Tae-min and saying the same things as his texts. He sounded annoyed and harried, but not panicky, horrified, or furious. That meant he either didn’t know about Todd or didn’t suspect me.

The last thing I wanted to do was return to the scene of last night’s murder, but I couldn’t avoid the GM any longer without arousing suspicion. Sighing, I pushed off the mattress and stretched. The sight of Amalia’s empty bed triggered a cold prickle in my gut. Where was she? Why hadn’t she come back last night?

I reclaimed my phone and called her number. It clicked straight to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s Robin,” I said. “Where are you? Please call or text me right away so I know you’re all right. I’m heading over to the guild, but I’ll have my phone.”

I ended the call, then sent her a text saying the same thing. Worrying my bottom lip, I used the bathroom, brushed my hair, and mourned my wrinkled outfit. But without a change of clothes, my bookworm look would have to do.

As ready as I would get, I stared at the bedside table. Creeping over as though I might disturb a sleeping beast, I slid the drawer open and peeked inside. The infernus lay where I had left it. If I didn’t wear it, could Zylas still hear my thoughts? Was he waiting for me to call him out?

My throat worked, my innards twisting. I slowly closed the drawer again. With a final glance back, I left the motel room.

I couldn’t control Zylas. If I brought him with me, he could kill again. For all I knew, I might be heading toward my own arrest—and I would not let him kill the MPD agents who were rightfully protecting people from out-of-control demons and their selfish contractors.

Achingly aware of how alone I was, I walked away from the motel and the infernus.

The cab dropped me off a block from the guild. I could’ve walked the entire distance, but that would’ve meant thirty minutes alone with my thoughts.

As I turned the corner and faced the guild’s green awning, I cringed in anxious anticipation—but the street looked exactly as it had three days ago. I cautiously approached the door, unsure what I’d expected. Lines of police tape? A white outline of Todd’s body on the sidewalk? The only sign that a man had died here last night was a dark patch on the dirty concrete. Had it rained, or had someone washed the blood away?

My nerves prickled again. I circled the building and used the side entrance as Tae-min had instructed, punching a six-digit code into the panel beside the door. Ascending to the second level, I peeked into the common room. It was empty. Like Tae-min, the guild’s exhausted members had gone home to sleep and recuperate after spending three straight days hunting Tahēsh.

I continued to the third floor. Tae-min had said the GM’s office was at the end of the hallway. Six doors lined the bland corridor, all closed, but the one directly ahead was open, revealing the corner of a steel desk.

Deep breaths. I tried to remember the advice of my current self-help book, but it felt like months, rather than a week, since I’d last picked it up. I couldn’t even think of a famous mythic from history to inspire me, my mind stubbornly blank.

Raising my chin, I strode to the open door and peered inside. A man sat at the desk, his attention on his computer monitor and his back to a large window with a drab view of the street below. He looked like a Viking in a business suit—bulky, blond, thick beard, deep-set eyes, and a hooked nose.

I raised my hand to knock on the open door, but he looked up first. Surprise splashed over his face, then vanished so quickly I wondered if I’d imagined it.

“Robin Page, I assume,” he barked in a deep, gravelly voice. “About time. You were supposed to come last night.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” I muttered, racking my brain in panic. What