Page 11 of Magic Betrayed

By the time I made my way down the stairs and out the front door, the electrician’s van was gone. There were few cars this late at night, and no pedestrians in sight, so it was going to have to be The Portal.

I couldn’t ask the human police for help. As far as the humans were concerned, none of us existed. We could only rely on Idrian systems of justice, and thanks to our strange history? Yeah, Idrian justice was more likely to consider us criminals than victims. The only one who could—or would—help me now was Faris.

The mile I walked nearly every day to work had never seemed so long. I was shaking all over—from pain, from cold, from shock—and the pain in my head seemed to echo all the way to the soles of my feet. I passed a man in a ragged coat who took one look at my face and scrambled all the way across Sheridan Avenue to avoid me. And when I finally reached The Portal?

It was dark and empty. The doors were locked, Emberly was gone, and the glamour specialist had yet to arrive.

I could break in. My lock picking skills were solid, ordinarily, but now my hands were shaking and covered in blood. And I also wasn’t willing to bet on Faris not having some kind of nasty magical traps awaiting anyone stupid enough to break into his bar.

So now what? Hugh would probably help me, but I would never make it all the way to Twenty-third Street on foot.

I stood by the back door, trembling with cold, and happened to glance down the alleyway to the east. To the six-story brick cube across the street.

The Assemblage. Where the Symposium had taken place only three months ago. And where Callum had an apartment on the top floor…

Maybe he’d had a landline put in. It wasn’t a good bet, but it was better than nothing. And it was safer than staying on the street. If I ended up passing out, I’d rather be in a dark, empty building than lying unprotected in an alley.

The service entrance on Oklahoma Avenue proved depressingly easy to break into, and while it was slightly warmer than outside, I still shivered as I made my way through the darkened event space to the stairs at the front of the building.

Though now I was shivering from more than just cold. There was also an inescapable flood of memories…

Of the day I’d defended Callum using my elemental magic, then watched him defeat a lion shifter with his bare hands.

Of my confrontation with Talia, when I’d promised to help her find her daughter.

Of Callum catching me after I drank the elemental wine.

And of the battle that ended the Symposium—splintered crystal, silver knives, and glittering ice, all stained by those final moments of violence. By Blake’s callous willingness to destroy lives in pursuit of power.

The space was empty now, lit only by the tiny ball of blue fae magic that hovered just ahead of me. But it would never be empty in my head. I would always see Callum’s face after he learned the truth about my past. Always wonder what he’d been thinking, and whether he blamed me for the catastrophic ending of the Symposium.

But whether he blamed me or not didn’t really matter now. All that mattered was finding Logan, Ari, and Kes—whether they were in hiding or kidnapped. And I wasn’t going to find them without help, which meant climbing five accursed flights of stairs to look for a phone.

Each step seemed so much bigger than it ever had before, but I climbed anyway. Ribs screaming, head throbbing, blood forming a warm, sticky coating on my neck and matting my hair, I dragged myself upward. And by the time I reached the top floor, my vision had narrowed to no more than the few feet in front of me.

I only stopped when I saw the doormat…

Beware of dragon.

He’d kept it. Even though he hated it. Probably because Kira had gifted it to him as a joke, and given their history, he would do anything for her.

Thankfully, dragons didn’t worry too much about personal security, so the door featured a very simple manual deadbolt that I failed to pick the first time only because my hands were shaking.

My second try was more successful, and the door swung open as I fumbled with my tools, trying to slide them back behind my belt.

I had to keep it together. Had to keep going until I’d called for help.

Leaning against the doorjamb steadied me enough to return my lock picks to their usual hiding place, and when I straightened, it was to an achingly familiar view that nonetheless seemed eerie and empty in the glow of my blue fae light.

The apartment was simple and cozy, with restored wood floors, dark, earth-toned walls, and comfortable, rustic furniture with colorful pillows. Even though no one had been here in months, I detected the lingering scents of wood smoke, coffee, and… Callum. Memories surged, my head throbbed, and my eyes stung with the threat of tears. But I didn’t have time to cry. I needed to call Faris.

If there were a landline in here, where would it be?

I shuffled through the door, stumbled a little, and then froze as a whisper of air brushed against me, not from the doorway but from inside. A breeze coming from an empty apartment, as if a window had been left open… or something was moving in the dark.

The door slammed shut behind me. I heard a single footstep, and then…

Bands of iron curled around my throat. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe past that unbreakable grip.

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