The One and Only Crystal Druid (The Guild Codex: Unveiled Book 1)

by Annette Marie

  Except words like that didn’t exist.

  Nothing he said would fix me. Nothing he said would change what had happened between us. And the thought of hearing his inadequate explanation or weak apology—or worse, no apology at all—was more than I could take. He’d already destroyed me once. Learning why he’d done it might destroy me again.

  Zak’s eyes darkened, and he asked again, “Why did you save me, Saber?”

  “So I could kill you myself.”

  His jaw tightened—and Ríkr’s voice sounded in my head.

  A black vehicle just pulled into the yard. Three males are getting out.

  My eyes widened, and so did Zak’s as he also heard my familiar’s warning. I leaped away from the door, colliding with his chest in my rush. The MPD. It was the MPD. They were here for me. I’d expected more warning. I’d expected to have time to get away.

  “Out,” I gasped, shoving past Zak. “Need to get out!”

  He caught my good elbow and spun me to face him. His hands gripped my upper arms, stopping my urgent movement.

  “Saber, calm down.”

  “Calm down?” I half shouted, fear transforming into fury. “They’re here to arrest me! I’m not going back to that. I’m not!”

  “I know, and you won’t. They won’t arrest you. You’re going to talk to them.”

  The men are heading for the stable, Ríkr told me urgently.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I wrenched against his hands, sharp pain lancing my collarbone. “Let me go!”

  He held on tighter. “Listen to me, Saber! You texted the hotline like I told you to, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then trust me and—”

  “I’ll never trust you again!”

  Ríkr’s voice lashed my mind. They’re coming up the stairs.

  Zak swore. He released my shoulders—then grabbed the sides of my face and pulled my face up.

  His hot mouth met mine, hard and urgent. As swiftly as he’d kissed me, he pulled back, leaving me stunned.

  A loud bang shook the door a few feet behind me.

  “Just open the door, Saber. It’ll be okay, and if it’s not, I’ll kill those agents myself.” He released me, strode to the bathroom, and shut himself inside, the door closing with a soft click.

  A fist hammered on the apartment door a second time.

  “Saber Orien?” an older male voice called.

  Panic swam through my head. In a daze, I turned to the door. I no longer had time to run for it, which meant … which meant I had to once again trust the boy who’d betrayed me.

  With a shaking hand, I turned the bolt and swung the door open.

  Chapter Thirty

  Two men in dark suits stood in the doorway, and only one thing about them registered: the silver MPD badges hanging from their necks on fine chains, the etched pentagrams in their centers glinting like winking eyes.

  Horror closed over me like a wave of suffocating water. I was fifteen again, sitting in a precinct holding cell as MPD agents towered over me, condemnation in their pitiless stares.

  The men stepped into my home, the older one leading the way. He was tall, his hair cropped in a simple style. Wire-rimmed glasses sat on his nose, a folder under his arm. His partner, the agent Ríkr had attacked, was younger than me, with a bronzy-taupe complexion, short mohawk, and flinty gaze.

  “Saber Orien?” the older one demanded sternly, his attention shifting to the sling I wore.

  “Yes,” I whispered, searching for my usual fearlessness—but I was unarmed and injured, and they were in my home, in my space.

  “I am Agent Harris.” He gestured to his partner. “This is Agent Park. We’re here to—”

  “Hey, do I not even warrant an introduction?”

  The question floated from behind the agents, and with it, a third man stepped around the other two. Unlike them, his athletic six-foot-tall frame was clad in a casual jacket and jeans, his brown hair tousled and his face youthful and almost naively open.

  His blue eyes met mine, bright with curiosity—and lurking beneath that amicable openness was a sharp perception that warned of cunning.

  “I’m Kit,” he said, flashing me a bright smile. “Agent Morris, actually, but call me Kit. I’m—”

  “Not working this case,” Agent Park hissed.

  “—the lead investigator for the Ghost’s bounty. I texted you a couple days ago.”

  This guy was an MPD agent too? And a lead investigator?

  New fear pierced me. The agent in charge of the Ghost’s bounty was in my home—and so was that very same rogue he hunted. Zak was hiding in my bathroom, one casual search away from discovery. I would be charged with murder and harboring Vancouver’s most wanted criminal.

  Agent Harris cleared his throat. “Miss Orien, we’re here to discuss the death of Arla Collins, leader of your coven and your rehabilitation supervisor. Where were you on the evening of June seventeenth?”

  “Here,” I replied tersely. “Until I went to Arla’s house to talk to her about my rehabilitation.”

  “Where she found her coven leader’s body,” Morris cut in as he strolled past me into my living room, his hands clasped behind his back. “Which we all know already.”

  “This isn’t your case,” Agent Park snapped again.

  “It will be,” Morris said cheerfully, pivoting to face the other two agents. “The coroner has already ruled Arla Collin’s death as an attack by a non-human, non-mythic entity. Aka, a fae. And your suspect saw my suspect in this general vicinity. My suspect, as you may recall, happens to be an exceptionally powerful druid known for wielding some pretty intense fae magic.”

  Agent Harris pushed his glasses up his nose. “You have no proof that the Ghost was involved in this—”

  “Not yet, but you have no proof that Saber here can steal people’s hearts out of their chests either. So if you wouldn’t mind hurrying up and asking her all those redundant questions about where she was on which night, I’d like to ask her about the actual scary mythic murderer and where he might be right now.”

  The senior agent flexed his jaw. His young partner glared daggers at Morris.

  Jerking around to face me again, Agent Harris pulled a sheet of paper from his folder. “I am hereby serving you a summons to appear for questioning at the Vancouver precinct within seventy-two hours. We will complete your interrogation there, without any”—he shot a fresh glower at Morris—“interruptions. You are not to travel outside the greater Vancouver area before then.”

  I took the paper, fighting not to crush it in my fist.

  “We will see you soon, Miss Orien.” Agent Harris turned away. “She’s all yours, Agent Morris.”

  Morris grinned at their backs as they strode out. He followed them to the door, stuck his head across the threshold as though to ensure they were actually leaving, then firmly shut the door. Turning around, he leaned back against the wood, his eyebrows arched.

  “So,” he drawled, “where’s he hiding?”

  My teeth snapped together, but before I could respond, the bathroom door behind me clicked. I whirled around, my stomach dropping as Zak appeared, now wearing a shirt. He surveyed the agent across the room.

  Morris gave a dramatic bow without stepping away from the door. “You summoned me, oh dastardly druid?”

  Zak snorted. “Took you long enough to show up.”

  “I’m a busy guy. And you have no idea how many baseless tips about random dudes in hoods I have to sort through every week. I’m not exactly hanging on the edge of my seat waiting for them.” He shrugged. “I’m here now. That’s what counts. You mind filling me in on why exactly I’m here?”

  “I want you to make sure those two idiots figure out that Laney Collins, daughter of the victim, was involved with Jason Brine, an ex-con, and he’s the one who unleashed the fae killer responsible for all the deaths in this area in the last two weeks.”

  “Ah.” Morris rubbed a hand through his hair. “Hasn’t Lane
y Collins been missing for the last two days?”

  “You’ll find her and Jason Brine’s bodies north of Mount Burke at the fae crossroads.” Zak’s green eyes gleamed. “Laney’s body has, unfortunately, been mauled by scavengers. But her dental records and belongings will confirm her identity.”

  Her body had been mauled? How did he know that? Unless he’d ensured her corpse would be too damaged for the cause of death to be determined.

  “Ooookay,” Morris muttered. “And am I steering the investigation in that direction because it’s what actually happened, or because it’s what you want the MPD to think happened?”

  “Everything I’ve told you actually happened, and I’ll leave it to you to fill in the missing pieces.”

  “How generous.” Morris considered that for a moment, then smirked evilly. “I can’t think of any other agents I’d have more fun upstaging than Harris and Vinny.”

  Zak’s smirk was even more evil. “Knock yourself out.”

  I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. “What the hell is going on with you two?”

  Piercing green eyes and almost-as-vivid blue eyes fixed on me. Neither man said anything.

  “Please,” Morris said after a moment, pushing away from the door, “tell me you’ve seen The Dark Knight Rises.”

  I stared blankly at him and he sighed.

  “Okay, well, just wait to show up for your summons until the very last minute. I’ll need those seventy-two hours. And Zak, keep a low profile until this is done.” He arched an eyebrow. “Actually, keep a low profile forever. It’d make my life easier.”

  Zak grunted in an amused way, and Morris slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind him. Silence fell over my suite, and I kept on staring at the door, my head spinning.

  Now I knew why Zak had told me to send that hotline tip and involve the agent in charge of his bounty. And I knew how Zak had determined it was safe for me to return home. The Ghost had a reputation for being untouchable, but I hadn’t suspected how far he’d gone to ensure he’d never be arrested.

  And thanks to him and his pet agent, I’d escaped arrest too. For now.

  “Saber,” Zak said quietly.

  No. Not happening. I was off balance, dizzy, floundering. I couldn’t deal with him and his betrayal and the answers that terrified me. Not right now.

  I yanked open the door Morris had just closed, rushed down the stairs, and marched out into the humid night air. As I rounded the corner of the stable, the taillights of the agents’ car receded down the long drive. I watched until they’d disappeared, then turned to the farmhouse, its windows lit invitingly.

  Paper crinkled, and I realized I was still holding the MPD summons. I folded it up and tucked it in my pocket. Seventy-two hours. Was that enough time for Agent Morris to prove Jason was the perpetrator and I was innocent?

  My hand drifted to my chest, where the golden locket had lain. Jason, and Laney, and most likely Arla as well, were the only people besides me and Zak who’d known about the Dullahan. And they were all dead. I had killed Laney. The Dullahan had killed Jason and Arla.

  But Arla …

  I pressed my fingertips into my sternum. Jason could have given Arla’s name to the Dullahan, but he’d died at least a week before her. Why would the creature wait over a week to take her life? Laney couldn’t have done it; she hadn’t realized the Dullahan was on the loose until I’d mentioned the crossroads to her, and she’d been convinced to the very end that I was responsible for her mother’s death.

  Who else had known Arla was involved, even peripherally, in the Dullahan’s appearance?

  Humming the eerie melody of the Dullahan’s ballad, I drifted toward the orchard, hoping the night air and scent of leaves and young fruit would clear my mind. The trees closed around me, neat rows with broad branches that hid the dark sky.

  “And your soul the Dullahan will claim,” I sang under my breath.

  “Little witch.”

  At that purring voice, I turned sharply. Lallakai leaned against the trunk of a plum tree, her long hair swept over one shoulder. Her emerald eyes glinted in the darkness as she smiled at me.

  My jaw tightened. “What do you want?”

  She stepped away from the tree, hips swaying. “Merely to thank the witch who saved my druid from certain death.”

  “I didn’t do it for you or for him.”

  “No?” She sauntered toward me, stroking the mass of hair resting on her shoulder.

  I held my ground as she stopped indecently close. She was slightly taller than me, and I stretched my neck to glare into her flawless face.

  Her eyelids lowered halfway, a coy look. “Did you save him for your own sake, little witch?”

  “What about you?” I shot back. “You abandoned him.”

  “Out of necessity.” She pushed the long length of her hair off her shoulder to fall down her back. “The Dullahan’s power was driving me into a rage, and had I lost control, I might have struck down my own beloved druid.”

  I remembered the mindless ferocity of the bear fae and couldn’t call her a liar, especially since she’d returned to finish off the Dullahan with powerful magic neither I nor Zak possessed.

  Lallakai’s cool fingers touched my face, catching me off guard. She stroked my cheek, her pupilless eyes filling my vision.

  “As I said before, little witch,” she crooned throatily, “your power is surprisingly sweet. A treat for any fae. Your shapeshifter companion has enviable luck to have claimed you all for himself.”

  “Ríkr didn’t claim me.”

  “No? Then I’m free to have a taste?” Her hand curled around the back of my neck, and her other hand slid over my waist, pulling me against her soft curves. Her silky lips brushed my ear. “May I taste you, little witch?”

  She phrased it as a question, but her grip told me refusal wasn’t an option. I had no weapons and one arm in a sling. With no better option, I curled my good hand into a fist.

  A cold breeze, as though someone had switched on an air conditioner, washed across my hot skin.

  I warned you, vulture.

  The low snarl slid through my mind, and Lallakai turned, pulling me with her.

  A white coyote with azure eyes stood between two trees, his fur so pale it appeared bluish in the darkness. His hackles were raised, his lips pulled back to show his fangs. It was the largest form I’d ever seen Ríkr take.

  “Ah,” Lallakai breathed, her talons pricking the sides of my throat, dangerously close to my jugular. “Your threat surprises me, shapeshifter. Surely you realize that a pitifully weak creature such as yourself can make no claim against anything I desire?”

  Release her. Ríkr’s low voice roiled through my head like an arctic wave. I will not warn you again.

  My heart raced as I tried to think of a way to escape Lallakai’s hold before Ríkr had to take drastic action. He was no match for any of Zak’s fae companions, especially not this one. Should I call for Zak? Would he hear me?

  “So commanding,” the Night Eagle mocked. “I quake with fear.”

  The coyote’s muzzle ridged with fury. A chill breeze swirled through the orchard.

  Lallakai pulled me into her and her mouth brushed along my cheek. “Come now, shapeshifter. I will tarry no longer. If you wish to stop me, show your power.”

  Ríkr snarled.

  “No?” Her wet tongue flicked against the corner of my mouth, but I couldn’t move with her sharp nails at my throat. “Then I shall enjoy her—”

  Pale blue light exploded through the orchard on a wave of subzero cold.

  The blast of icy luminescence threw me back, blinding me. Lallakai’s hand slipped from my neck, her talons scraping my skin, then she grabbed my shoulder and yanked me toward her again, pain blazing through my injured collarbone. My vision blurred, then cleared.

  The air was sparkling.

  Tiny crystals of frozen moisture drifted between the trees, shimmering like glitter. Ice covered the ground, jutting upward in jagged
, glassy spikes. Thick fractals coated the trees, icicles hanging from the branches, every leaf frosted in white. A bone-deep chill saturated the air, as though I were standing not in a summer orchard but on a mountaintop in January.

  “I told you, Lady of Shadow, that if you touched her again, I would shatter your flesh into a thousand shards.”

  I knew that low, clear-toned voice. I’d heard it inside my head every day for the past seven years—though never dripping with such primeval menace.

  His voice was unmistakable, but the creature standing before me wasn’t Ríkr. His eyes were pale blue, exactly the same, but …

  But he stood taller than me.

  But his shoulders were broad, his skin pale and smooth, his ice-white hair hanging in long locks around his face.

  And his arm was outstretched, his fingers curled around Lallakai’s throat.

  I stared at his face, too flawlessly beautiful to be human. Cheekbones too sharp, full lips too pale, jaw too smooth. Faintly luminescent azure markings ran up the left side of his face, disappearing beneath the elegant but aggressive black headpiece that covered his forehead. Short, straight antlers that gleamed like pure gold rose above his head.

  No human countenance could appear so calm yet so utterly deadly at the same time.

  In that flash where arctic cold had descended on the orchard, he’d closed the distance between us, his exotic garments of white, black, and metallic gold fabric swirling around him from the swift movement. He had a lethal hold on Lallakai—but she merely smiled, the ancient malevolence rolling off her as strong as his.

  “Ah,” she cooed playfully. “Greetings, Lord of Winter.”

  The temperature in the orchard dropped further, the jagged ice thickening.

  “Your masquerade as a feeble shapeshifter was most entertaining.” Her emerald eyes glittered with challenge. “But I’m afraid I will have to intervene before you destroy the girl entirely. My druid is rather attached to her.”

  Ríkr smiled a gentle, murderous smile. “And I, Lady of Shadow, will entomb you in an ocean of ice for daring to lay your gluttonous hands upon my druid.”