Demon Magic and a Martini: The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Four

by Marie, Annette

  The Ezra I knew best: soft-spoken, with that straight-faced humor that could catch me off guard, even when I was expecting it. His calm compassion, his unjudging acceptance, his gentle smile that had won me over the moment I met him.

  But now I understood his other side. The crushing strength, the enhanced reflexes. The flashes of anger, of power, of violence. The cold and the darkness. The savagery that slept inside him.

  It was a demon chained inside his body and bound to his soul.

  His gaze dropped away from mine. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “For everything.” He didn’t look up. “Hiding it from you. Involving you. Putting you in danger. Lying to you.”

  “You never lied to me.”

  “When you asked if I was a demon … I denied it.”

  My hands tightened into fists. Inside him was a beast like the winged demon, its spirit imbued with bloodthirsty brutality. How often did it look out of his eyes? Could it see me right now through his pale, blind iris?

  Fear trickled through me, gaining strength and chilling my limbs. I wanted to move, but I didn’t know in which direction—toward him or away? I felt chained to the spot, unable to—

  Chained. An image of Sabrina’s tarot card rose in my mind: the Devil, its illustration showing a man and a woman in the beast’s chains. Those two helpless figures … Ezra and me.

  Another card flashed in my mind’s eye: a regal woman holding scales and a sword. Justice. Judgment. A choice.

  Then a final vision: the heart pierced by three swords. Loss and heartbreak. My three mages, leaving me forever.

  But I had a choice.

  That had been the cards’ message. I could change this. I had the power to alter my fate—our fate.

  “You’re not a demon.” The words came out flat but ferocious. No doubt or hesitation touched my voice.

  Ezra’s dull gaze flicked up. “I’m the next closest thing to—”

  “You’re not a demon.”

  I closed the short distance between us, and every line of his body tensed in anticipation of my rejection and revulsion. I towered over him for a moment, then sank to my knees. We stared at each other. Confusion and something like dread rose in his eyes.

  “Ezra …” My voice went husky with emotion. “Would you like a hug?”

  He sat in rigid silence, hesitating, uncertain. The seconds stretched out, an echo of the awkwardness from that first time hanging between us. How many embraces had we shared since then? Some casual, some heartfelt, some more intimate than I’d ever allowed myself to acknowledge.

  Tentatively, he lifted a hand toward me.

  With no more than that, I was in his arms—squeezing between his knees to press against his chest, burrowing my face into his shoulder, clinging tightly. My arms were clamped around his neck, fists gripping his shirt.

  His hands touched my sides, then slid around to my back. He took an unsteady breath, his chest lifting under me, and his fingers closed around my sweater. His arms tightened, crushing but gentle, strength that could break my bones.

  I don’t know how long we stayed like that before I spoke.

  “Let me guess,” I said into his shoulder, gently exasperated. “You figured I’d never want to look at you again now that I know.”

  He made a quiet noise, like he’d started to speak before cutting himself off.

  I pushed back to look at him, my hands on his shoulders, his at my waist. He stared up at me like he couldn’t believe I hadn’t run away screaming.

  “Ezra, please.” I shook my head. “Do you really think I’d up and abandon you? You already know how stubborn I am.”

  He blinked, an anxious crease between his brows. “You’re stubborn? I hadn’t noticed.”

  On the last word, his mouth pulled into an unintentional smile—the first time his deadpan delivery had failed him. A laugh bubbled in my throat—and a hot flutter ignited in my core. Suddenly, I was acutely aware of how close he was, his face tilted up to mine. My heart gave a weightless lurch.

  But his humor was slipping away as despair crept back in. “Tori …”

  “Nope,” I interrupted. “Don’t say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “Whatever heartbreaking farewell you were about to start on there. It isn’t necessary.”

  His eyebrows pinched together, his hands still gripping my shirt tightly. Before he could try again, I tapped a finger against his lips, causing them to part in surprise.

  “Not necessary, because I’ve already made my decision.” The Justice card flickered through my mind once more, but I focused on Ezra’s mismatched eyes, fully aware that my next words would trigger a fierce battle of wills—a battle I had no intention of losing.

  “I know you’re leaving, and I’m coming with you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kai shouted at me. Aaron shouted at me. Even Ezra shouted at me—frosting the walls in the process—until Kai banished him into the bedroom to calm down.

  They could yell all night about how I was throwing my life away, how I had my whole future ahead of me, how I was perfectly capable of living without them, how I couldn’t abandon my brother, how I had no idea what permanent exile entailed, and so on, but it wouldn’t change my mind.

  They were not leaving me behind, and if they tried, I would follow them. How I would follow them, I didn’t know, but they seemed alarmed at the prospect of what trouble I might get into while trying.

  Even then, they were still debating how best to ditch me when Kai had a sudden realization—the Keys knew I was close to them. If they left me behind, the Keys might target me in the hopes I would know where Ezra had fled.

  So, with the three mages in varying states of furious disapproval, Aaron, Ezra, and I loaded into the car. Kai would follow us on his motorcycle. I’d packed a single duffle bag of essentials, while the guys would have to rely on the spare clothes and weapons Aaron always carried in his trunk.

  As the car pulled away, I watched my dark, sad bungalow disappear behind us. My stomach twisted with nauseating anxiety, but I ignored it. My decision was made. I’d never been the type of person to plan far into the future, and all the potential the guys thought I was losing forever—I had no plans for it. My dream of running my own business was a means to an end, a way to support myself in the least painful way possible. I wasn’t particularly passionate about school or entrepreneurship or any of it.

  What I was passionate about was my job at the guild—and without the guys, that would be empty too. I’d rather take my chances on the road.

  I watched the city lights pass as we drove, Kai’s black bike and dark helmet occasionally appearing in the side mirror. Inside the car, Aaron focused on driving while Ezra sat mutely behind me. He was taking my presence the hardest, blaming himself. They were so gloomy that I considered waking Hoshi for company, but she was currently tucked in my purse, fast asleep.

  Soon, the city was behind us and we were driving down a treed corridor lit only by the car’s high beams. Somewhere on our left was the Burrard Inlet, and in a few more minutes, we would join the Sea to Sky Highway—a beautiful stretch of coastal roadway with breathtaking views of the island-dotted Howe Sound. Not that we’d get to enjoy it in the dark.

  “Where are we headed?” I asked conversationally.

  “North,” Aaron replied in a distinctly unhelpful tone.

  “I know that. It’s either turn north or drive into the ocean.” I cast him a pointed look. “Are you going to sulk all night? That’ll make for an awfully long drive.”

  “It’ll be a long drive anyway,” he retorted, but his mouth quirked in a half-hearted smile. “We’re going really north. The Yukon or maybe Alaska.”

  “I’ve always wanted to see Alaska.”

  “This isn’t a vacation,” Ezra said from his spot behind me, a bitter edge in his smooth voice. “We’re fugitives, not tourists. I’ve done this before, and there’s nothing pleasant about it.”

 
; “Kai and I have prepared for this,” Aaron cut in, glancing in the rearview mirror at Ezra. “We have money set aside in untraceable bank accounts, travel routes and safe houses mapped out, all that kind of stuff. It won’t be like last time, when you were on your own with nothing.”

  His last words chilled me, and I remembered Ezra’s sunken cheeks and hollow eyes from his mugshot. No wonder he sounded bitter.

  “How much money?” I asked cautiously, thinking of my near-empty account. “Is it enough for me too? Am I screwing up your plans?”

  “It’s more than enough. It’s all from my trust fund.” Aaron made an amused sound. “My parents think I invested it, but I’m sure they’d be pleased either way that I’m finally using it.”

  Aaron had dipped into his trust fund? The only other time he’d touched it that I knew of was to buy his house. I was beginning to grasp how painstakingly he and Kai had planned for this contingency.

  “Your parents would be less pleased to realize they won’t get to see you for the next few years,” Ezra muttered darkly.

  “Few years?” I repeated, my brow furrowing. “Aren’t we going into hiding permanently?”

  Silence. Neither guy answered, and I frowned at Aaron. He kept his eyes on the road.

  “We’ll have to change vehicles within a couple of days,” he said after a minute, giving the dash of his beloved car a glum look. “Kai might want to keep his bike, but it won’t be very practical up north. Maybe we’ll get an SUV. It’ll be better suited for mountain terrain.”

  Deciding to question Aaron on the “few years” thing later, I suggested, “How about a pickup truck?”

  Aaron hummed thoughtfully. “A large pickup truck isn’t a bad idea. Kai could strap his motorcycle in the back when he doesn’t want to ride it.”

  We discussed vehicle options for a couple of miles, and Ezra eventually joined in, his tone relaxing into something more natural. Every few minutes, I checked for Kai’s headlight behind us. Only a few other vehicles passed in the opposite direction, heading toward the city.

  My eyelids grew heavy. As Aaron and Ezra’s conversation meandered from vehicles to travel routes, I pillowed my head on my arm and let their voices and the rumble of the car lull me to sleep.

  “What the hell?”

  Aaron’s angry exclamation jolted me awake. I sat up, squinting blearily. The wipers swept across the windshield, erasing a half-hearted sprinkle of raindrops, and everything outside the car was still dark. It didn’t feel like I’d been asleep for long.

  “What’s wrong?” I mumbled.

  “The car behind me won’t pass.” Aaron muttered a curse. “We’re the only ones out here, and that asshole can’t find another patch of road to drive on. His headlights are driving me crazy.”

  Unease crawled through my innards and I leaned forward to peek in the side mirror. Kai’s headlight flashed, close on Aaron’s tail, and behind him was another set of headlights. Too large and high up to belong to a van, they shone brightly in Aaron’s mirrors. I relaxed again.

  “Some drivers get weird at night,” Ezra said, “especially in poor weather. They want to follow someone.”

  “Asshole,” Aaron repeated grumpily. “Whatever. I want to stop in Squamish anyway. Get some fast-food burgers or something.”

  “Do you think anything will be open?”

  “Here’s hoping there’s an all-night McD’s.”

  A canvas of sparkling lights gleamed up ahead—the town of Squamish, which put us an hour into our drive. I must’ve slept thirty minutes at most. Aaron slowed, complaining again when the clingy driver failed to pass him. The rain was picking up.

  “Is this the turn?” he muttered, flipping on his signal as a darkened shopping center came into view. “I haven’t been here in years.”

  He made a quick left, Kai’s bike following. The clingy driver continued down the highway, and I glimpsed the big-ass SUV. Definitely not a van.

  “This isn’t right,” Aaron sighed. “What street are we on?”

  The monster shopping center sprawled across endless blocks, the parking lot lights shining on the wet pavement. Aaron turned right, and up ahead, the road diverged in a Y-intersection. Muttering some more, he hesitated, then cut left toward a liquor store.

  “I think you were supposed to go right,” Ezra remarked as we sped past a long-closed grocery mart and straight into a residential block.

  Aaron swore. “I’ll take the next right and backtrack.”

  We passed a few dozen houses, then trees closed in. The streetlights ended, plunging the road into darkness, and the rain was gaining force. Aaron sped up the windshield wipers and switched his high beams back on. The slick road stretched onward, but there were no right-hand turns. Instead, train tracks raced alongside the pavement.

  Biting back another curse, Aaron let off on the gas. “Should I turn around?”

  I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket—my old jacket, because Burke’s demon had shredded my fancy new combat one—but when I pressed the power button, nothing happened. Right. It had died just before we set out.

  “Where’s your phone?” I asked. “We should pull up a map.”

  “I think the road is curving right,” Ezra said as he passed me Aaron’s spare phone over the center console. “It might circle back around.”

  “But how long will that take?” Aaron shook his head and slowed the car. “We need to go back, especially with this rain. Kai shouldn’t be riding on wet—”

  He broke off, eyes flicking to his rearview mirror. “Ah, shit, there’s another vehicle. Now I can’t turn around.”

  Putting his foot down, he zoomed down the unlit stretch of secondary highway. It was barely wide enough for two cars to pass each other, and turning around would be too dangerous with another vehicle gaining on us.

  As I waited for the navigation app to load on the phone, I peered in the side mirror again. Big, bright headlights glared into the car. Kai’s bike drifted toward the centerline as though trying to get out of the light.

  Aaron checked his rearview mirror, then accelerated more. The black trees flashed by on our left, the train tracks on the right almost invisible. The wipers whipped back and forth, battling the deluge. Kai must be soaked and freezing.

  The highway curved left. We were heading farther from the town center. I tapped urgently on the phone’s screen but the app was blank, the signal too poor to load anything. “The map isn’t coming up.”

  Growling profanity, Aaron slowed again and scoured the grassy ditches for a side road to turn off. As the highway curved, the train tracks continued straight and disappeared from view.

  Now we were driving through pitch darkness. The black trees on the right opened up, and I glimpsed the dark, blocky shapes of an industrial complex. Were we even in Squamish anymore?

  “What is that asshole doing?” Aaron demanded.

  I twisted to look out the back window, Ezra doing the same. Kai’s bike was only a few car lengths behind us—and the other vehicle was right on his tail, looming like a black monster with blazing white eyes.

  Aaron hit the gas, speeding up to give Kai room to accelerate away from the tailgating jerk.

  I clutched the edge of my seat. “Is that an SUV?”

  “I think so,” Ezra said. “Why?”

  Apprehension clanged through me. “Is it the same SUV that was following us earlier?”

  Aaron’s startled gaze snapped to me. “How could—”

  Light flooded the car’s interior—the SUV rapidly closing the gap. Kai’s headlight swept past us as he dodged toward the empty opposing lane. The SUV surged forward.

  The bike’s silhouette lurched—and vanished.

  “Kai!” I shrieked, twisting in my seat.

  The bike’s headlight flashed as the fallen motorcycle slid across the road toward the bank of trees. Aaron slammed the brakes, throwing me against my seatbelt.

  The SUV’s lights blazed—and it rear-ended the car.

  I was flung into
my seatbelt a second time. The car swerved, fishtailing violently. Aaron clutched the wheel, fighting for control as the road flew by. The nose steadied.

  The SUV rammed us again.

  The back end swung out. The car spun, the ditches and the SUV careening past. Hydroplaning on the slick pavement, we reeled wildly, speed barely diminished, and I had one moment to realize what was coming as we spiraled toward the road’s edge. Aaron’s little sports car hit the ditch.

  The car flipped, and my ears filled with deafening bangs, shattering glass, and my own terrified scream.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Tori? Tori, please wake up.”

  Through a dim haze, I recognized Ezra’s voice pleading with me.

  I squinted my eyes open, and for a second, I thought I’d gone blind. Then I made out his face hovering in the darkness in front of mine. He had squeezed into the gap between the car’s two front seats and cradled my head with gentle hands. My whole body throbbed, limbs tingling with adrenaline.

  “Tori!” he gasped in relief.

  I drew in a quivering breath. The car had landed upright, but all the windows were broken and the windshield was a pale sheet of cracked safety glass that had somehow stayed in one crumpled piece. The engine was silent, steam rising from the hood, and the only sound came from the rain drumming on the dented roof.

  “Are you hurt, Tori? Are you okay?”

  “I—I think I’m okay.” Nothing seemed broken, at least.

  “I’ll climb out the back and get you. Just hang on.”

  He retreated into the back seat, and glass crunched as he crawled through the shattered back window. I blinked slowly in the darkness, and now that Ezra’s face wasn’t filling my vision, my gaze fell on Aaron.

  He was slumped against the steering wheel, the remains of the airbag hanging from it.

  “Aaron?” I whispered. “Aaron?”

  Ezra appeared at my window. He reached through the broken glass to unlock the door.

  “Ezra. Aaron i-isn’t—” My voice quavered and broke. “Aaron isn’t answering.”