After our text-confessions of love and that white-hot kiss in the cemetery parking lot, Ezra and I hadn’t had the time or privacy to really talk. Between our new arrangement with Robin and helping Darius prepare to take on—and take down—the Court, we’d been too busy.
And, as I’d told Sabrina, it was all just so … complicated.
I broke free from the trees, and as I entered the clearing, tension infused my muscles. The memories of our panicked flight hit me hard—Aaron barely able to walk, Kai limping badly, Ezra glowing with demonic magic.
The cenotaph was no more. Chunks of the shattered angel statue lay amidst the broken pillars, and the weathered chalice she’d held had fallen on its side near her dismembered hand as though she were reaching for it.
Unlike when we’d left, the underground stairway wasn’t completely buried. Someone had uncovered the passageway’s entrance—but we’d known to expect that. Darius hadn’t neglected this crucial location. The morning after we’d uncovered it—and barely escaped with our lives—Darius, Girard, and Alistair had combed through the rubble inside, but Xanthe and Xever had removed everything important except the summoning circle. Not that they could’ve packed that up and moved it out, mind you.
The GM had stationed a surveillance team in the cemetery to watch for returning cultists, but no one had shown up. The cult had abandoned their lair.
Which was exactly why Ezra and I were here.
I pulled a flashlight off my belt. “Shall we?”
“Lead the way.”
I started down the stairs, careful not to trip on the rubble. “Wouldn’t it be great if we got to use a cult summoning circle to un-cult-ify you? The irony is delicious.”
“Nazhivēr and I might have damaged it,” Ezra said, referring to his battle with Xever’s powerful demon. “If it survived, though, it would be …”
He trailed off as we reached the bottom. I shone my light across the cavernous storm reservoir.
“… almost too easy,” he finished dryly.
I clenched my jaw. “Damn it.”
My footsteps echoed loudly as I crossed to the circle I’d hoped we could hijack—but nope. The perfect summoning circle had been reduced to shattered rubble.
Darius had told me the circle was intact, which meant it’d been destroyed at some point between his visit to the underground lair and now. But our guild had been monitoring the site. How the hell had the Court snuck in here without our guys noticing?
The wooden altar had been demolished too, and the stone lectern where I’d found the cult grimoire had been smashed—rather angrily, I thought. How had Xanthe and Xever reacted when they’d realized I’d stolen the grimoire from its protective case? Something told me the cult leaders hadn’t been happy about that.
I craned my neck back. Xanthe and Xever had even removed the scarlet crystals from the pillars and stripped away the sigil-emblazoned tapestries. Talk about an efficient cleanup. Had Xever put his injured demon to work after we’d escaped? I almost felt bad for the demon.
Almost.
“Do you think they’ve left Vancouver entirely?” I asked, kicking at a chunk of stone. There was nothing left that suggested a cult had operated here.
“They may have moved the High Court, but I doubt Xever is ready to leave yet. He’s working on something.”
“That stuff you were helping Robin with, right?”
Ezra nodded. “He’s hell-bent on getting his hands on—”
Bzz-bzz-bzzzz.
The loud vibration of my phone filled the reservoir, and I dug frantically into my pocket, amazed there was any reception down here. I whipped out my phone, frowned at the unfamiliar number on the screen, then lifted it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Tori?” a deep voice inquired.
“Who’s this?”
“Blake.”
I blinked. “Blake? Like, the Keys of Solomon terramage?”
“How many Blakes do you know?”
Relief flooded me. I hadn’t heard a word from or about the terramage since we’d fled the Keys headquarters, leaving him bleeding on the floor. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”
A low, humorless laugh. “I told you I wouldn’t die—though staying alive has proven more difficult than I’d expected.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s actually why I called. We flushed out four Keys members corrupted by the cult—but we didn’t get them all.”
A rush of adrenaline hit me. “There’s another one?”
“At least one more. After you left, I was almost killed three times before I could get out of Salt Lake City. I’m in hiding now, but it’s too late.”
“Too late?”
“Someone spread rumors through the guild that I’ve been suffering from PTSD since the Enright extermination, and after living alone on the site of the attack for eight years, I finally cracked. My guild membership has been suspended and there’s a bounty to get me committed—for my own safety, they claim.”
Ezra searched my face, probably reading the horror all over my features.
“Shit, Blake. If they catch you—”
“—I’ll be dead before anyone realizes it’s a setup. Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I’m well hidden.”
“Is there anyone in your guild who can help you?”
He sighed. “I thought I knew who I could trust, but I’m not sure about anyone anymore. I wrote out everything and sent it to my GM, but I don’t know if it’ll reach him.”
Not good. Pinning down the Court was like trying to hold water in your hands. There was no way to grab hold of it. It just slipped away.
“I can talk to my GM,” I said. “I bet he can get through to your—”
“Too risky,” Blake interrupted. “The Keys have no leads on the ‘murderers’ who killed Russel and the officers. You can’t give them any reason to suspect your guild.”
“We aren’t murderers. We were—”
“It doesn’t matter. If the cultist moles can convince the guild to turn on one of its own members, they can convince the Keys to turn on your guild too.”
I swallowed hard.
“I’m calling to warn you and your guildmates to watch your backs. Stay away from the Keys—and stay away from that cult.”
“Uh, well, it’s not that simple. It turns out the top-level court thingy—what did you call it, Ezra?”
“The High Court,” he supplied.
“Right. The High Court is here in
