“Nope. Dr. Garriso knows nothing, and Roarke’s friend says that the map is in a dead demon language that I’m supposed to be able to read.”
Nix’s eyes widened. I didn’t have to look at Cass to know that hers did the same.
“Dead demon languages are a problem,” Cass said.
“And you’re supposed to be able to speak it?” Nix said.
Movement outside on the street caught my eye. It took a second to recognize the dark-haired man hurrying toward our door, but when I did, my breath caught.
It was Orson Reyes, the Order guy who gave Claire her assignments. She appeared in the window a second later, hurrying behind him. I could just make out what she was saying through the glass.
“You’re mistaken! There’s no way she’s involved.”
My heart plummeted to my feet just as the Order member yanked open the door and burst into the shop. Claire hurried in behind him.
“Which one of you is responsible for the demon attack on Cambridge University?” His beady dark gaze darted between Nix, Cass, and me.
We all stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Don’t play dumb. I am Orson Reyes, representative of the Order of the Magica. I have it on good authority—from the Chief Constable of Cambridge—that someone living at this address has a demon following and that they attacked the university.”
“What are you talking about?” Roarke demanded. “Those are serious accusations.”
Orson held up my lucky pendant. The one I’d lost on the campus.
Shit.
“The Chief Constable apprehended an intruder who wore this. A Tracking Mage on their staff identified this address as the home of this object. It is my responsibility to find the person.”
Bad freaking luck.
His gaze zeroed in on me, on the matching pendant that I wore around my neck. “It was you.”
He stalked forward, his eyes widening as he neared. “Your magic… It’s…”
He sniffed the air and licked his lips, as if he were trying to get a feel for my magical signature. His magic filled the air, bringing with it the sound of rustling leaves and the scent of chalk.
Oh, shit. He was using his Sensor Mage powers. I stepped back, not wanting him to pick up on my demon powers.
“Stop!” He held out a hand, but I kept backing up until I hit the wall. “You’re the one with the Ubilaz powers! You’re responsible for the surge in demonic activity. I can feel it. The powers aren’t in an object at all. They’re in you!”
I opened my mouth to dispute the claim when a demon appeared on the street outside of the shop. His burnished red skin indicated that he was probably a fire demon.
Oh, eff this.
Could the timing be worse?
I glanced at Roarke, whose gaze was trained on the demon. His expression turned predatory.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, moving left, hoping that the Order member’s gaze would follow me and give Roarke time to slip outside and get rid of the demon before anyone noticed it.
Orson’s gaze did follow me, but it snapped back to Roarke as soon as he moved for the door. As if the demon had called his name, Orson turned to look onto the street.
He pointed and said, “Then how do you explain that?”
“Just a random demon? You really should do a better job keeping track of them,” Nix said.
Roarke strode outside and made quick work of the demon, dodging its initial blast of fire magic and then lunging and breaking its neck.
“No.” Orson shook his head and pointed at me. “It is her. I can feel it. Claire was supposed to address this, but she has failed to do so. Because she is friends with the culprit.”
“It’s not her!” Claire said.
“Of course it is.” Orson sneered.
Quietly, Roarke slipped back into the shop.
How the heck were we going to get out of this one?
“She’s a mercenary,” Cass said. “She wears a charm to attract demons so that she can more easily get the bounties. That’s all it is.”
“Yeah,” Claire said. “I’ve been really jealous of that charm. She racks up twice the kills that I do.”
“No.” Orson’s voice was hard as a rock. “That’s bullshit. She’s the one we seek. I can feel her.”
Damn.
From behind the man, Roarke’s gaze hardened. He reached to the small table at his side and picked up a heavy clay jug. Quick as a snake, he brought it down on Orson’s head. The vase shattered, the magic it had once contained drifting up toward the ceiling as pale smoke, and the man collapsed.
Roarke crouched and pressed two fingers to Orson’s neck. “Out cold.”
“We can’t kill him!” Claire cried. “He’s my boss!”
“If I wanted to kill him, he’d be dead.” Roarke stood. “But we need time to figure out how to fix this.”
I sat heavily on an old chair pressed against the wall. “This is bad.”
The Order of the Magica knew who I was. What could I do?
“Very bad.” Cass rubbed her forehead.
“We have to make him forget what he knows,” Roarke said.
“How?” I asked.
Roarke turned to Claire. “Does your brother have a potion that would do it?”
“No. Not something like this.”
Nix stepped forward. “Aerdeca and Mordaca might be able to manage it.”
“With blood magic?” I asked.
It was one of their talents, but they normally just sold charms out of their shop, Apothecary’s Jungle, because blood magic was so dangerous. And on the edge of the law. I didn’t know if I wanted to dabble in that.
Roarke frowned. From his expression, he definitely didn’t want to dabble in that.
“They’d use blood magic to influence his memory?” Cass asked. “But that’s the mind. It’s the most dangerous thing to try to manipulate.”
“And it’s illegal,” Roarke said.
Nix held up her finger. “Only if it’s without consent.”
Roarke frowned at Orson’s prone body. “I don’t think he’s going to consent.”
Cass stepped forward, her expression hard. “Look, I know you’ve got a thing for the rules and all, but Del doesn’t stand a chance if the Order knows what she can do. At best, they’ll toss her in prison. Worst—she’s dead.”
“And that’s the more likely scenario.” Nix shot me an apologetic glance. “Sorry. It’s true.”
“Yeah, I know.” Still made me sick to think of it, though.
“So, what’s it going to be, Roarke?” Cass asked. “You going to stick to your rules and throw Del under the bus?”
“No.” Roarke’s voice was firm. He didn’t even hesitate, which made me feel a bit better. “We can go to these women and ask if they can help.”
“Good,” Nix said.
“How do you know about this anyway?” I asked. Nix wasn’t particularly good friends with Aerdeca and Mordaca—that was more Cass’s territory.
Nix shrugged, her gaze sad. “When Cass remembered her past, and you remembered your true last name, I wanted to know more about my past as well.”
My heart hurt for her. For me, too. We knew almost nothing of our lives before we woke in the dungeon owned by the Monster from our past. My only memory was of being a slave to a man who wanted to control FireSouls. And my dream last night hadn’t revealed anything good.