Blood Pact (Darkling Mage 7)

“She’s not joking,” Imperial said in a stage whisper.

“The – the Society’s leaders,” the man stammered. “What’s left of them. They said we needed to complete the ritual. That Delilah’s conscious again.”

Metric threw him back to the ground. “Delilah Ramsey? Isn’t she with the Brandts?”

“Yes,” I said. “They stripped her of all her possessions, all her jewelry and enchantments. How could they have – ”

“You’re forgetting,” Imperial said. “Delilah has always wanted to be a true mage. The Brandts would have warded her room, but perhaps we didn’t give her enough credit. Perhaps the woman knows a few spells, including how to dispel protections on her own.”

“Perhaps,” I said, reaching for my phone, tapping out the quick message to Bastion that I’d meant to sent the night before, except I forgot because of that whole thing with Mammon. “And Mammon gave them our address?”

“Vengeful one, that,” Imperial said, tutting.

Gil grimaced. “That’s bad news. I don’t like people knowing where we live.”

Mama Rosa cracked her knuckles. “Let them come. I will break their bones and turn them into adobo.”

Metric waved a hand around her, then at Rosa. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”

Still wearing her stony grimace, Rosa replied. “Thank you. I love your hair.”

“We need to get going,” Imperial said. “I’m sure you kids don’t want the Lorica paddy wagon coming directly here, so we’ll ferry these shits right out of your way, if there are no objections.”

“None whatsoever, ladies,” I said. “Thank you for showing up when you did.”

Metric sighed dramatically. “A drag queen’s work is never done.” She pulled a compact out from among the folds of her dress, flipped it open, then blew on it. A cloud of powder gusted out, then settled onto the Fuck-Tons and their six prisoners, who all vanished in what was very likely the most fabulous teleportation spell I’d seen yet.

Mama Rosa grunted and turned back to restaurant preparations. “I like them,” she said. “Very strong.”

“We like them too, Mama Rosa,” I said, staring at my phone, then dialing Bastion when I couldn’t take it anymore. But the call went straight to voicemail.

“Put that down,” a new voice said in my ear. I whipped around, my heart thumping, only to come face to face with Apollo.

Chapter 29

“Where were you – how did you – ”

“I just got here,” Apollo said. “What’s up, everybody?”

Gil waved hello. Rosa nodded. From the kitchen came an orange glow as the portal to the Boneyard finally activated. Carver and Mason strolled out, followed closely by Asher, who had Banjo cradled in his arms. Sterling, it seemed, was asleep.

“Where the hell were you guys?” I said.

Carver blinked at me. “Preparing for the ritual. Is something the matter?”

“We were just attacked by the Society of Robes.” I jerked a thumb at Apollo. “Also, this guy is here.”

“Then you didn’t need us after all, did you?” Carver said, with an infuriating calmness. He nodded at Apollo. “Glad you could make it.”

“Delilah Ramsey is awake,” I blurted.

This time Carver looked at me more seriously. “Have you been in touch with the Brandts?”

“I’m trying Luella’s phone now. Voicemail.”

Carver nodded. “Try not to worry for now, Dustin. They must be handling the situation well enough on their own, then. Let us complete this ritual, then you may panic. Surely the Brandts will return your call soon enough.”

I nodded back. Point taken. The Brandts were probably busy holding the fort. We had our own problem to deal with, and with the question of Banjo’s origins answered, we could nip Delilah’s plans right in the bud. If that meant depowering an enchanted dog, so be it. Corgis weren’t meant to explode people, anyway.