Page 16

Chapter Sixteen

“Stop fidgeting.”

I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets and glared at Zak’s hidden face. “Stop being so bossy .”

We’d climbed up the wide steps to the second-level terrace to get a better view of the gallery entrance, Kai’s bike parked a dozen yards away. Wide, paved sidewalks surrounded the building, and a big sunken square in the center was filled with structures I couldn’t identify in the dark. Everything was abandoned—too late on a Monday night for random passersby, and the auction attendees were mingling inside.

After consolidating our dastardly plans, Kai and I had returned to the Yamada group while Zak skulked around the auction room, frightening people. Once the auction concluded, he left, and I slipped out a few minutes later, leaving Kai with his relatives. How he intended to lure this Mancini person outside was beyond me, but if he thought he could do it …

“I hope he’s okay,” I muttered.

Zak snorted dismissively. “Why are you worried?”

“Why wouldn’t I be worried?”

“He’s a Yamada.” The druid leaned against the wall. “And here I thought I was the only black smear on your record.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, then sighed. “Zak, you have to explain this one to me. I have no clue who the Yamadas are.”

He pushed his hood back enough for me to glimpse his bright green eyes. “The Yamada family runs the largest international crime syndicate in the mythic community.”

I tried to say something but my voice had disappeared.

“They’re a legitimate guild and keep their illicit activities well hidden, but the MPD is all over them like bees on a hive. They can only crack down so hard, though, or else they risk driving the entire operation underground.” He crossed his arms. “They’re a thorn in my side. Impossible to intimidate and extremely well connected.”

Seven years, Kai had said. He must have broken ties with his family before joining the Crow and Hammer. According to Aaron, Kai hadn’t cared which guild he joined—probably because his only concern had been escaping his family’s business. Now, thanks to me, he was involved again.

“I’m a terrible friend,” I muttered.

“You don’t say.”

“You’re a shitty friend too.”

“Last time you said I was a good friend.”

“That was before you ignored me all day while I was dying.”

“Fickle,” he remarked dryly, tugging his hood low again.

I tiredly chewed my fingernails. I should’ve been vibrating with tension, but I’d used up all my energy over the last few hours. Yawns pulled at my jaw every couple of minutes. Too weary to stay on my feet, I sank down on the top step, the cold of the concrete seeping through my jeans.

After a moment, Zak crouched so he wasn’t towering over me. “What happened with Red Rum? You said the fae lord had to defend you.”

I mumbled my way through an explanation.

He made a thoughtful sound. “Gifted Spiritalis mythics can sense the fae lord’s presence. I didn’t see any Red Rum mythics in there, at least. It would be a hassle if they spotted you.”

“Mm,” I agreed wearily.

“What’s the point in targeting you, though? Killing you would free the fae lord, but it doesn’t sound like they were using lethal force.”

“I don’t get it either,” I muttered, scarcely keeping my eyes open.

We sat quietly for another minute, and my sluggish thoughts wandered from Kai’s family situation to my uncertain future.

“Hey Zak,” I mumbled. “What makes a sorcerer a sorcerer?”

“Huh?”

“Well, anyone can use artifacts, right?”

He braced his arms on his knees. “Yes, but only Arcana mythics can create artifacts.”

“But … why?”

“Why can Arcaners imbue power into their spells and no one else can?”

“Yeah.”

He gazed at the dark sky. “The world is full of power—energies of the earth, of nature, the stars and cosmos, the sun and moon, and who knows what else. It’s an electric ocean that flows through everything, immense and maybe even sentient. Each magical race and class uses that power differently.”

“But humans can’t use it,” I whispered.

“Humans can’t even detect it. Sorcerers can, and they channel that power into their spells when they build them. Alchemists do the same with their transmutations.”

Months ago, Ramsey had told me my Queen of Spades artifact threw off major arcane vibes—magic I couldn’t sense because I had no Arcana ability. Why was I even asking Zak about it? I already knew I wasn’t a sorcerer.

Gloom settled over me. “What about psychics? They don’t use the same kind of magic, do they?”

“It all comes from the same reservoir of natural energies, they just use it in a different way—most without even realizing where their power comes from.”

“How does a psychic learn they’re psychic?”

“Abilities typically manifest around puberty.”

I was well past the joys of puberty. My head drooped forward, too heavy to hold up. I’d known all along I had no magic, but a question still lingered in the back of my mind: If I wasn’t a mythic, how had I ended up this deep in their world? Was it all dumb luck? Was this feeling that I belonged among mythics all in my head?

Zak’s attention weighed on me, and I didn’t want him to read any more into my questions than he already had. Time to change the topic. “What will you do without your farm?”

“I don’t know yet.”

He went silent, and I thought that was all he planned to say. When he spoke again, his rumbly rasp surprised me.

“Everything I’ve built relies on my anonymity, but that’s rapidly falling apart. Varvara is spreading rumors about me. Enemies are sniffing around my property for the first time. Your guild tricked me into bringing you to my home, and I can’t risk taking in anyone else.”

Guilt deadened my heartbeat. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. If I hadn’t picked you up, I might have fallen into another guild’s trap.” His head turned, the light gleaming faintly against one cheek. “I’m not as clever as I like to think, and my arrogance has caught up with me.”

A faint inkling of what he’d meant about owing me a debt sparked, but I was too exhausted to make sense of the feeling. “Will you be okay, Zak?”

“I don’t know. I’m a bit lost right now.”

I fumbled down his sleeve until I found his gloved hand. Entwining our fingers, I squeezed in wordless comfort.

His hood shifted as he looked down at our hands. “Why am I telling you any of this?”

Sympathy welled in my chest, and I whispered, “Because you don’t have anyone else to tell.”

He went very still, then sighed. “Yeah.”

Light flared as the gallery doors swung open. A short, sturdy man around fifty strode out, his suit jacket unbuttoned and tie loosened. Kai walked beside him, murmuring something. Two beefy bodyguards followed them across the stone square.

“Is that him?” I asked almost soundlessly.

Zak gave a short nod.

A small light sparked as Mancini lit a cigarette. He held the lighter out and Kai leaned forward, igniting the cig pinched between his lips. With the ease of a chain smoker, he blew a gray cloud into the cool air. The bodyguard guys waited a few long paces away .

“I have to say, Kaisuke,” Mancini said, mispronouncing Kai’s full name as kigh-soo-kee instead of the kigh-s’kay his relatives had used. The man’s gravelly voice, amplified in the quiet, echoed off the building walls. “I always thought it a shame you left the family. You had so much potential, even as a teenager.”

“They weren’t interested in my potential,” Kai replied smoothly, inhaling through his cigarette. “I was always an outcast within the family. I think you can understand that feeling, Carmelo.”

An agreeable grunt. “What brought you back?”

“I’m not back , not the way you’re thinking. I’m here to… explore my options.”

Mancini straightened. “How so?”

“I have no interest in rejoining either the family or the guild as a second-class member. I’m considering a different venture: an independent one. Another concept you’re familiar with.”

Mancini puffed on his cigarette, the glow illuminating his sharp grin. “I think I see where you’re going with this, Kaisuke.”

“You’ve gone independent and made yourself into a force to be reckoned with. I know several others who work well alone, but I also know it’s a vulnerable position without the right connections.”

“You can be independent of a guild and still have powerful allies,” Mancini agreed conspiratorially.

“So, obviously, you’re the first person I thought to approach.”

A gruff, blustering sound. “Flattered, most flattered. I’d be interested in exploring how we can profit from each other’s endeavors. ”

Zak made a quiet, impressed sound. “Damn. Your friend is good.”

“I’m delighted to hear it,” Kai replied easily. “I’m working on something, and I think you have expertise in the area—if you’re willing to share it.”

“That depends on what you want to know and what you’re offering in return.”

“My offer first, then. I’ll introduce you to another independent mythic—one only an exclusive few can claim to know, let alone call an ally.”

Zak’s muted laugh hissed with dark amusement.

“Forging a relationship with him won’t be easy,” Kai added, “but I’ll make the introduction.”

“That’s my cue,” Zak whispered. “Wait here, Tori.”

As he rose to his full height, Lallakai’s shadowy wings unfurled from his back, then swept around him like an embrace—and his whole body faded out of sight. I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my gasp. He’d disappeared like a fae!

“Who?” Mancini asked sharply. “Who will you introduce?”

“You should know him by reputation alone,” Kai answered dryly.

Mancini pulled his cigarette out of his mouth, face contorted with annoyance—then the air beside Kai shimmered. Zak materialized in a swirl of fading shadows, his coat fluttering from the movement, hood pulled low over his face. Dripping menace, he loomed beside Kai, taller by several inches.

I rolled my eyes. Him and his dramatic entrances.

Mancini’s cigarette fell out of his limp fingers. He quickly waved at his bodyguards to stand down. “The Ghost! I—I had no idea… ”

“Kaisuke and I are pursuing a joint venture,” Zak rumbled, pronouncing Kai’s full name perfectly. “Based on your contribution, should you make one, we might have a future as business partners.”

Kai flicked ash off his cigarette, looking as comfortable as could be next to the notorious druid.

Mancini looked between them. “And what do you require from me?”

“Knowledge, assuming you have it,” Zak crooned evilly. “I’m not convinced you do.”

The older man stiffened. “Ask, Ghost.”

“Fae enslavement. Are you familiar with the rituals?”

“There are many.”

“One that could bind a high-ranking wyldfae.”

“I know a few. They require rare resources.”

“Such as fae relics?”

A jerky nod. “You seem well-informed already, Ghost.”

Kai canted his head in a subtle invitation. Zak leaned down a few inches and Kai whispered something to him.

Zak straightened. “We don’t require any assistance with the Arcana. I want to know about the relics and the fae who provides them.”

“The fae… I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Don’t play games with me, Carmelo. How do you contact the fae who makes the relics?”

“How do you know—” Mancini bit off the question. “That’s expensive information, Ghost.”

“I’m an expensive partner.”

“Why would I want you as a partner?”

Shadows coiled around Zak’s legs. “Would you prefer me as an enemy? ”

I heard Mancini’s wet swallow from where I crouched. He shot Kai a furious look, but the electramage merely blew a puff of smoke.

Tugging his suit jacket straight, Mancini forced a smile. “The fae answers to the name Bhardudlin. Use any of the blood summoning arrays.”

“And?” Zak prompted.

“And what?”

“How does the fae deal?”

Mancini grunted. “The usual way. Bring expendable underlings.”

“That is all I require.” A pause where I could imagine Zak smiling malevolently. “It would be unfortunate if your information were to produce poor results.”

“And if the results are good?” Mancini demanded.

“We’ll be in touch.”

“Well…” Mancini shrugged stiffly. “It was a pleasure, Kaisuke. Contact me if you wish to continue our earlier discussion.”

“Of course. Have a lovely night, Carmelo.”

Gesturing at his men to follow, Mancini strode back into the art gallery. The moment the doors closed, Kai dropped his half-finished cigarette on the concrete and stepped on it. Renewed by a spark of energy, I ran down the stairs.

“You did it!” I stumbled to Kai’s side and leaned against him, then recoiled. “Blah. You stink.”

“He’s a notorious smoker. It was the easiest way to get him outside.” He grimaced at the ground-up cigarette.

“It worked perfectly. You were amazing.” I looked between him and Zak. “You two work well together. ”

Kai’s glare was instant, and it was mean . I could feel Zak’s equally nasty glower singeing my face.

I flapped a hand in placation. “Sorry, sorry. Did you get the info you need? I thought you would ask way more questions.”

“I’d planned to,” Zak replied. “But Yamada says—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“ Kai ,” he amended irritably, “says he’s already acquired the ritual. The only thing left is the fae relic. Tori, send me a copy of the ritual from the grimoire, and I’ll—”

Pop-pop-pop!

Yellow paintballs exploded against Zak’s and Kai’s backs. Kai shielded his head with his arms and I ducked as another volley flew past, half the shots bursting against Zak’s leather coat.

Even as panicked urgency rushed through me, I had an aha! moment: leather clothes were resistant to potions. That’s why Zak dressed like a supervillain.

The druid straightened, his hidden face angling toward the street.

“Looks like I was wrong,” he growled. “Red Rum is here after all.”