“You guys got it back?” he asked disbelievingly, despite the fact he was literally holding the sword.
Darius shut the hatch on his SUV with a thunk. “Agent Shen was kind enough to make a short detour to recover it while collecting my car keys.” He cast an amused look at the young woman beside Kit, then added, “Lingering in the open isn’t wise right now. Agent Shen, Agent Morris, would you join us inside?”
“Of course,” Agent Shen replied.
Zak, who stood a step behind me with his hood drawn up, shifted backward.
I grabbed his wrist before he could slip away. “Where’re you going?”
“That invitation wasn’t for me, Tori,” he rumbled.
“You’re coming in too.”
“I’m not welcome, for obvious reasons.”
Darius pivoted to face the druid. I tightened my grip on Zak’s wrist, standing between him and the guild master but not tall enough to break their eye contact.
An unspoken challenge sizzled in the air between the rogue druid and the former assassin.
“People will close doors on you everywhere you turn,” Darius said quietly. “Don’t close them on yourself.”
Zak blinked, but before he could respond, Darius was sweeping toward the guild. With Kit, Lienna, and the three mages following, he pushed the door open.
“Come on,” I told Zak. When he started to protest again, I gave his wrist a hard tug. “If he didn’t want you here, he would’ve said so.”
He resisted for a moment longer, then gave in and let me drag him forward.
Noise rolled out of the guild—a swell of excited voices. Sounded like a decent portion of the membership was in there. Eagerness rushed through me, and I zoomed for the door.
I reached it just as Ezra stepped through, holding the door for me. I followed him in. Warmth, light, and sound engulfed me—and the overwhelming presence of people. There wasn’t a mere portion of the guild present.
From our mini coven of witches, to our sorcerers and scholars, to our alchemists and healers, to our assorted psychics, to the wise and worldly officers, almost every guild member I knew and loved—or tolerated, in the case of a few—was crammed into the pub. The only faces missing were Robin and Amalia, their absence weighing on my mind.
A disorienting wave of voices—speaking, calling, shouting, exclaiming—left me reeling. Still gripping Zak’s sleeve, I hooked my arm through Ezra’s and braced my feet, trying to get my bearings.
“Everyone,” Darius called, raising his voice over the competing conversations. “I’d hoped to return with good news, but I’m afraid our lockdown continues.”
Somberness swept over the gathered mythics.
“We aren’t giving up, and we’ve recruited new allies. Allow me to introduce Agent Shen and Agent Morris, who helped with our … exit from custody this evening.”
Cautious gazes assessed the two agents.
“As well, a guest you may recognize—Zak, also known as the Crystal Druid and the Ghost.”
The sober quiet turned downright icy. Hostility spread like an invisible miasma, every face turning to Zak and every gaze rejecting his presence.
He lifted his chin a little higher, defying their silent condemnation, his expression controlled and green eyes colder than anyone else’s. I sighed. He’d apologized to me, but admitting fault to anyone else wasn’t happening.
Darius stepped to the druid’s side—and to everyone’s shock, put his hand on Zak’s shoulder.
“Many of you,” the guild master said, “are only here today because someone gave you a second chance. This is a guild of second chances, lessons learned, and renewal.” He leveled his steely gray gaze on the druid. “Trust is earned. You have a long way to go if you want it, but we’ll give you that chance.”
Zak returned the GM’s stare, saying nothing.
Darius turned to Agent Shen. “Now. As we discussed on the way here, let’s begin by proving Ezra’s innocence.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Every member of the Crow and Hammer present—just under fifty—was crowded around the pub’s perimeter. In the open center, cleared of all furniture except one table, Agent Shen had just finished drawing out an intricate array that spanned the tabletop.
Ezra stood across the table from her, patiently waiting.
Gazes darted nervously from him to the agent and back again. I wasn’t quite sure how to parse their expressions. Concern from some. A nervous sort of amusement from others, as though they were almost certain this was a big joke. How could soft-spoken Ezra be a demon mage? It was preposterous.
A few faces gave off a different vibe, though. Girard and Alistair seemed expectant, while Sabrina’s expression was carefully closed off—as was Bryce’s.
I inspected the telepath where he stood between Drew and Lyndon. Should I be surprised that he knew or suspected more about Ezra than he’d ever let on? He could read minds, after all.
The only person in the guild who didn’t seem bothered was Kit Morris, the bizarre agent who’d rescued us. He stood a few steps behind Agent Shen—or Lienna, as he called her—with his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels as though he were bored.
“What’s with him?” I muttered under my breath, watching the agent.
Beside me, Zak shifted his weight. Thanks to his presence, only Sin and Sabrina dared to stand near us. Aaron and Kai were positioned behind Ezra, and the sole reason I wasn’t with them was a vague worry that Zak would disappear if I left him alone.
He followed my stare to its target. “Whoever made him an MPD agent is either a blind fool or a genius.”
“What do you mean?”
His eyes, fixed on Kit, narrowed. “He might be the most terrifying mythic of our generation, and no one realizes it.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“Including him,” the druid added softly.
I pressed my fingertips to my sternum, encouraging my heart to toughen up already. “What kind of—”
“Who has the supplies I requested?” Lienna asked, stepping back from her newly drawn array.
Sylvia pushed through a cluster of guildeds, elbowing Darren in the kidney on her way past. Joining Lienna, she offered a handful of vials and a grape-sized glass crystal.
Lienna scrutinized the clear crystal, placed it at the
