Page 20 of Crimson Skies

“Yeah, back off, Straw Hat,” Yuan sneered.

Wallace’s expression grew pinched. “It’s a Fedora. It’s made from felt. And the inner sweatband is lea—”

“Dude, I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what your hat is made of,” Yuan said dully.

“Same,” Ortega growled.

The two mages exchanged an awkward glance at sharing the same opinion for once. Zach and Bailey slowly let them go.

Strickland came in behind Cassius. He clocked the mood and directed an accusing scowl at the demon and the wizard. “I left the room for five minutes. What the hell happened?”

“Ortega told Yuan earth magic is for sissies,” Bailey muttered.

Tisiphone grinned. “It really was funny.” The Fury caught her sisters’ stares. She shrugged. “What?”

“Where’s Victor?” Cassius asked the Argonaut director.

“On the roof, waiting for Theo and Charlie’s return. Reuben and Jasper are staying in Europe for the time being.”

“So, are you people finally going to tell us why we’re here?” Yuan asked belligerently once everyone was seated.

Strickland indicated Cassius with a wave of a hand. “I’ll let him do the talking. This was his idea after all.”

Ortega and Yuan visibly stiffened. Wallace observed Cassius with an inscrutable expression.

Cassius could tell his past reputation as the world’s most loathed Fallen was still at the forefront of their minds despite the recent revelations about his achievements.

Winning their trust won’t be easy.

“You three are among the most powerful Level One mages in this realm.” He glanced at Strickland. “With Francis, that makes four.”

Ortega leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, distrust radiating from every line of his body. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure there are more than four Level One mages on this planet.”

Cassius met the Colombian’s cold stare steadily. “You’re correct. There are eighteen Level One mages on Earth. But only four of you have soul cores compatible with a summoning staff.”

The temperature in the room dropped by several degrees.

“A summoning staff?” Yuan repeated leadenly.

A muscle jumped in Wallace’s jawline. The mage had gone deathly still. “You mean, those ghastly demonic artifacts that were banished from Earth hundreds of years ago?” His voice rose. “The ones that can raise those monsters from the Hells? Those summoning staffs?!”

“Calm down,” Strickland warned.

Morgan was frowning at the Texan.

“Yes,” Cassius said quietly.

Ortega raised a hand, his face as dark as Wallace’s. “I hate to break the news to you, but something just happened in London.” He waved his phone. “There was an attack at the Cabalista headquarters. Word on the street is your precious summoning staffs are missing.”

Strickland studied the Columbian with a sour expression. “I see your information network is as sharp as ever.”

Ortega observed their lack of reaction with a frown in the hush that followed. “You guys look remarkably unfazed considering what I just told you.”

Warmth blossomed inside Cassius’s belly before he could reply.

“They’re here,” Atropos murmured.

Cassius looked to the door. He rose just as it opened, his heart lightening.