“An illegal demon mage? A danger to everyone around him? A walking, talking crime so severe that the MPD would imprison me, Aaron, and Kai simply for knowing him?” He nodded. “Yes, he is all those things, but during our interview six years ago, he was also a scared, scarred eighteen-year-old who’d never known a normal life.”
Scarred. Somehow, I knew Darius wasn’t talking about Ezra’s physical scars.
“I’ve watched Ezra very closely,” Darius added. “As have Aaron and Kai. If Ezra had ever seemed like a danger to anyone in the guild, we would have taken the necessary steps.”
I opened my mouth but didn’t speak. I didn’t want to know what the necessary steps were.
My jaw clenched as I caught myself in the thought. No, I couldn’t do that anymore. I needed to face and understand the ugly truths. “What would you have done?”
“Exactly this,” Darius replied. “I helped Kai and Aaron with their escape plan years ago. If Ezra needed it, they were ready to run with him at any time.”
I eyed the guild master. That wasn’t all. There was another “step” he wasn’t sharing.
“So, you now know what he’s been hiding,” Darius continued before I could ask. “What do you think?”
“Huh?”
“Are you afraid of Ezra?”
Startled by the question, I considered it for a long moment. “I’m afraid of his demon.”
“Good. You should be.”
“I—” I inhaled shakily. “I talked to his demon.”
Darius’s head snapped toward me. He quickly looked back to the road. “Did you?”
With another unsteady breath, I told Darius first about the winged demon and the amulet it had tried to give Ezra, then how I’d used the amulet to free Burke’s demon, and finally the request Ezra’s demon had made.
“His demon wanted the amulet,” Darius murmured, more to himself than to me. “Tori, I would hazard to guess that anything the demon wants is unlikely to be good for Ezra.”
“That’s what I thought too.”
“The amulet is an immensely dangerous artifact. Under no circumstances should Ezra ever touch it. He could lose all control over his demon, and an out-of-control demon mage is even more volatile than an unbound demon.”
I frowned. “Why’s that?”
The glow from the console cast eerie shadows over Darius’s face. “An unbound demon kills in a desperate attempt to find a way home. The demon trapped inside a demon mage, however, can never go home. It’s bound to the mortal flesh. When Ezra dies, the demon will die with him. It’s the reason his demon is so motivated to keep Ezra alive and has gone to the effort of healing his injuries.”
Oh. I hadn’t thought about why the demon would heal Ezra, only how shocking its magic had been while doing it.
“The demon within a demon mage is highly invested in the survival of its host. It wants the body for itself, perhaps so it can live the longest life possible, perhaps to seek revenge on the humans it blames for its fate, perhaps to search for a way home.” Darius smiled grimly. “It’s difficult to unravel the thought processes of a demon, but regardless, it makes the demon extremely dangerous.”
I still wasn’t sure I understood what made a demon mage’s survival-minded demon deadlier than an unbound one on a killing spree, but I didn’t argue. Hidden in my pocket, the dark amulet weighed against my hip. I’d collected it, along with all my other artifacts and Halil’s brass knuckles, before leaving the building.
The winding road flew beneath the SUV’s headlights, Alistair speeding ahead of us. I watched the wipers slashing back and forth, resisting the urge to look at Ezra.
“Why did he do it?” I whispered. “Why did he choose to become a demon mage?”
Darius slid his hands over the steering wheel. For a long moment, he was silent as he concentrated on the drive.
“Ezra,” he finally said, his voice a low murmur, “didn’t understand that he had a choice.”
My breath caught. “What do you mean?”
“He’ll tell you when he’s ready, but don’t blame him for it, Tori.”
How could a person fail to grasp that they could choose not to summon a bloodthirsty monster out of a hellish realm and permanently embed it inside their body? I didn’t understand, but for now, I would take Darius’s word on it.
“What’s special about Enright, Oregon?” I asked.
“Enright is an abandoned railroad town deep in the Oregon Coast Range.” Darius rubbed his salt and pepper beard as though to relax the sudden tension in his jaw. “It’s significant to the mythic community, and demon hunters in particular, because eight years ago, on private property near the town, a well-hidden group of demon mages was discovered and eradicated. It was the largest congregation seen in about a century.”
Ezra’s mug shot. He’d been arrested in Portland, Oregon, four months after the demon-mage purge, looking sick and homeless. Combined with his lack of history prior to joining the Crow and Hammer, I could understand why the Keys considered that police report to be definitive proof of Ezra’s origins.
I wanted to know more—if Ezra had been part of that group, how he’d ended up there, how he’d escaped the extermination—but I figured the demon mage himself should be the one to answer those questions. I fidgeted with the splint on my arm. “What now? Is it safe to take Ezra back to the city?”
“I don’t believe Burke told anyone outside his team about Ezra. If he had, more teams would have been on your tails tonight.”
I watched Darius’s profile closely. “Then Ezra’s secret is safe?”
“For now.”
For now. Well, that was something, at least. “What about … Burke and Fenton … and Halil? Their bodies …”
“I’ve already called some trusted mythics to clean up the location, and we should pass them heading north soon. You can guess why I don’t want to involve the MPD.” He glanced at me, an eyebrow arched. “Alistair and I would’ve taken care of the cleanup ourselves if not for two reasons. First, I thought it best to get all three boys to our healers as soon as possible.”
I finally allowed myself to look into the backseat. Aaron, Kai, and Ezra almost appeared to be sleeping peacefully—except for their torn, dirty, bloody clothes and various bandages and splints.
“The second reason?” I prompted as I settled back into my seat and adjusted Hoshi in my lap.
“I need to return immediately. Alistair, Girard, and I are in the middle of something.”
Seriously? I shook my head. “Do you ever rest? The unbound demon was just slain earlier tonight, and I figured everyone would be heading straight to bed for a nice, long sleep.”
Darius smiled faintly, but something dark and mean hardened his features. “Our task is tangentially related to the unbound demon … and the ones who set it loose.”
My mouth popped open in a silent “oh.” The Crow and Hammer’s deadliest team was no longer hunting the slain demon—they were hunting the ones responsible for it.
“Well,” I said airily. “We definitely don’t want to keep you from that.”
“Most appreciated, Tori.”
We drove in silence for a long time. At one point, a single pair of headlights appeared on the road, driving in the opposite direction, and Darius flashed his hazards in greeting. I stirred out of my doze, exhausted but kept awake by my throbbing injuries. Darius didn’t reveal who the cleanup crew consisted of.
Finally, hazy lights appeared in the rain—the northwestern tip of the city, bright and cheerful and undimmed by the trauma of the night. I sank into my seat, relief rolling through me.
“Tori,” Darius murmured, his voice startling me after so long in silence. “You made a choice tonight that few would make. And you repeated that rare choice over and over throughout the night.”
I stared blankly, too tired to puzzle out his meaning. “Huh?”
“You chose to stand by your friends despite the terrible danger.”
“Oh … right.”
I scowled.
“Either way,” he continued, his amusement fading, “it’s past time for you to take your own safety seriously. I’ve warned you repeatedly that your wellbeing is as crucial as anyone else’s, and my tolerance for your poor attitude toward self-preservation has reached its limits.”
My displeasure melted into a guilty cringe.
“Since you clearly have no intention of sitting on the sidelines, that means you must learn how to defend yourself. Properly,” he added when I opened my mouth.
How had he known I was about to protest? I mean, yeah, I’d taken a beating, but I’d gotten through it all alive. Then again, if I hadn’t avoided Aaron’s every mention of training over the last two months, maybe I could’ve done better. Maybe I could’ve spared Ezra from a life-threatening injury.
“I will be speaking to Felix about a training regime.” Darius glanced at me, and there was no hint of compromise in his tone. “He’ll coordinate with Aaron and Kai, and I’ll expect regular reports on your progress.”
I gulped, understanding the unspoken warning that consequences would follow if I failed to meet his expectations. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. And my final instruction …”
I straightened attentively. “Yes?”
“Ask Ezra to teach you everything he knows about demon mages—everything he knows about how his power works.” Darius’s mouth thinned. “I think it’s knowledge you’ll need … sooner or later.”
A chill crept through me, and my eyes were drawn to the back of the vehicle where Ezra leaned lifelessly against the window, his pale face streaked with dried blood and his cheek marked by an unknown demon’s claw.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Are you ready yet?” Aaron shouted from the second floor.
I shot a glower toward the stairs as I hastened into the living room with my arms full.
“Almost,” I shouted back. “Quit nagging!”
“We’re going to be late.”
“I know!” I snarled as I rushed across the kitchen, only to find the main bathroom’s door closed. Kai must be in there, finishing his own preparations.
Growling, I whipped around the corner and loped down the stairs. The basement was dark and cold, the sparring mats empty, and the bathroom door hung open. I hurried inside, used my hip to swing the door most of the way shut, and dumped my armload on the counter.
My reflection frowned back at me, and I paused to tilt my head. Faint pink lines marked my neck—the remnants of Ezra’s demon claws, which had come so close to opening my jugular. I’d almost rather face his demon again than what I had coming tonight. My gaze inadvertently dropped to my outfit.
Correction: my costume. Ugh.
Nose wrinkling, I gave my hair a final check, ensuring my curls were the right mix of tidy and sexily mussed. But not frizzy. Frizzy was not sexy. And my hair was about the only sexy thing I had going for me with this getup.
I glared mutinously at the last pieces of my costume, then picked up a crinkly package containing a black wide-brimmed hat with a feather plume. I ripped the clear plastic open with more violence than necessary, then lifted the whole package and upturned it over my head, intending to drop the hat right onto my crown.
The hat fell out, bounced off my head, and landed in the sink. What did land on my head was a grenade’s worth of colorful confetti.
“Argh!” I yelped in furious dismay.
The plastic packaging crinkled merrily, and I belatedly noticed the bold yellow text in the corner—Free pirate confetti with every hat! Snarling my favorite bad words, I carefully shook my hair. Dislodged confetti showered the counter and floor, but even more shiny bits sank into my curls.
“Goddamn it!”
“Tori?”
With a light rap, the bathroom door opened. Ezra stood in the threshold, scanning me with concern.
My frustration evaporated. In the week since our battle with the Keys, I’d scarcely seen him. I was pretty sure he would’ve skipped all socialization tonight too, but Aaron and Kai had bullied him into it.
He’d bounced back from his demonic healing faster than Aaron or Kai had recovered from their injuries, but a hollowness lingered in his face. A tiny new scar marked the edge of his jaw just below his right ear.
His worried gaze flicked down me and back up, searching for the cause of my yelping and swearing. I knew the moment he spotted the confetti—he blinked, then smiled, then quashed the smile.
I huffed and turned back to the mirror—but that didn’t help, as I could now see his reflection. And that was a problem because he was in costume too, and sexiness was not an issue for him. Heat slid through my core, my hormones completely ignoring my stern admonishments.
“How did you—” he began as another wave of confetti spilled out of my hair.
“Don’t ask,” I grumped as I started picking the shiny stuff out. Curly hair forbade the use of hairbrushes, and if I shook it around too much, all my hard work containing the frizz would be ruined.
Ezra watched me pluck confetti out piece by piece, then stepped into the bathroom. Moving behind me, he reached up. The first slight tug on my hair as he removed a piece of confetti sent tingles rushing down my spine.
I cleared my throat. “So, you guys never said whose idea this was.”
When I gestured at our reflections, Ezra’s crooked smile reappeared. “I’ll give you one guess.”
“Aaron’s,” I concluded grouchily. “The Three Musketeers are so lame.”
“Four Musketeers,” he corrected.
My scowl deepened. Indeed, four. I’d already put on my tight breeches, white shirt with billowy, tight-cuffed sleeves, and a draping blue tabard with a shiny fleur-de-lis on the chest. The hat and leather gloves were the last part of my getup, and I wasn’t pleased about any of it. I looked ridiculous.
Ezra, on the other hand …
He would be wearing the exact same outfit, but he hadn’t donned his tabard yet. The breeches hugged his strong legs, and the way the white shirt hung off his broad shoulders looked downright dashing. On my smaller frame, the shirt looked more like a pillowcase with sleeves.
Our shirts dipped into a sharp V-neck, but he’d left the ties on his undone, allowing a tantalizing hint of his bronze chest to peek out. I yanked my gaze away and focused on picking crap from my hair. He was standing so close that his intoxicating scent filled my nose.
That night a week ago felt like a terrible dream. Ezra’s flight from the house, his confrontation with the Keys, my finding out he was a demon mage. Abandoning the city, racing north, the car accident … and everything that had followed. The blur of darkness, rain, battle, blood, and crimson magic. It all had the hazy obscurity of a half-forgotten nightmare, but when I lay in bed at night, waiting for sleep, it all came back with crisp, terrifying clarity.
Ezra carefully lifted my hair away from my neck and brushed confetti off my shirt collar. My gaze lifted to the mirror. We hadn’t had a proper conversation since that night. Every time I entered a room, he’d disappear shortly afterward. He was more elusive than an antisocial housecat.
I spun around. He blinked, his hands hovering in the air, ready to resume searching for confetti. He started to step back, but I grabbed his wrists, halting him.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” I accused bluntly.
He opened his mouth but seemed to realize denying it would be stupid.
“Why?” I demanded.
He gave his wrists a tug. I didn’t release him.
“Tori …” he muttered. He pulled away again, more strongly, but instead of letting go, I stepped with him, keeping close and pressing my advantage. His back bumped the wall. The bathroom wasn’t cramped, but it didn’t leave much room to maneuver either.
I glared at him. His gaze darted away, seeking a safe place to look besides my face. He settled for gazing pointlessly at a spot above
my head.
“Spill it, Ezra.”
“Spill what?”
“The reason you’ve been avoiding me all week and won’t look me in the eye.”
His mouth thinned. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“No.”
Surprise brought his gaze down to mine. He searched my eyes—probing for signs of deceit. I held his wrists between us.
“No,” I repeated sternly, staring him down. Or staring him up, since he was taller than me. “I don’t know why you’re avoiding me and I’m getting seriously annoyed about it.”
“Annoyed?” Uncertainty flickered over his features. “I thought you’d prefer …”
“Prefer what?”
“To … see less of me?”
I squinted angrily. “Because you’re a demon mage?”
He flinched.
“Well.” Still gripping his wrists, I leaned closer. He tried to lean back and banged his head against the wall. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t care. If I cared, I wouldn’t have gone with you guys that night, would I?”
His expression shuttered, emotions hidden. “How can you not care?”
“Oh, I see. You think I’m a coward.”
“What? No, I don’t—”
“Then you think I’m selfish.”
“No, you’re—”
“Then what? Why do you think I would turn my back on you just because your inner demon is more literal than usual?”
A small, amused snort escaped him.
“Ezra, nothing has changed except I understand now.” Actually, that wasn’t true. Damn near everything had changed—but one thing hadn’t. “You haven’t changed. You’re the same person you were before that night, so why would my feelings for you change?”
He went very still. “Your feelings?”
“Uh.” Something near to panic jumped through me. “I—I mean, you still want to be my friend, don’t you?”
His gaze skimmed my face, then settled on my eyes like he was trying to peer inside my head.
“Of course I do,” he said softly.
I’d expected one of his deadpan jokes. Or at least a smile. But he was staring at me with a strange intensity, his steady gaze still seeking something. I suddenly became aware that I hadn’t released him, holding his wrists hostage between our bodies.
Demon Magic and a Martini: The Guild Codex: Spellbound / Four Page 21