Wicked Deal (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 2)

“They are now.”

“How?”

“I had them delivered.”

Hmm. Thoughtful. I dressed quickly and gathered up my discarded gown and shoes. The magic in them might be mostly used up, but it was still a hot dress. I could wear it to the next Witches’ Masquerade. Anyway, I’d never had anything quite so nice before, and I wasn’t about to give it up.

I checked my phone and found a message from Mac.

Meet us at the Haunted Hound. Eve may have something.

I found the Devil in his room, dressed in all-black tactical wear, not dissimilar to what his security detail wore. Which reminded me…

“Why didn’t we bring your security yesterday?”

“It was supposed to look like a date. I didn’t want to trigger the guards before we got our information.”

“And your new look?” Which, I hated to admit, suited him pretty damned well.

“I have a feeling things are about to get a lot more active. Better to be prepared.”

“Hmm. Ready?”

He nodded and held out his hand. I strode over to him and gripped it, unable to help the shiver that ran through me. I still wanted him. I didn’t trust him, but I couldn’t help my physical awareness of him. The connection that drew us together like a wire.

Cursed Mates.

I shoved the thought away. I’d figure out exactly what that meant later.

“Let’s go to the Haunted Hound Pub. Mac told me that Eve might know something,” I said.

“All right.” The Devil drew a transport charm from his pocket and threw it to the ground. The silver smoke poofed up, and I followed him inside, growing more used to the pull of the ether.

10

Carrow

The ether spat us out in Guild City at the gate leading to the Haunted Hound.

“Is there a reason that your friends prefer to meet in the middle ground between Guild City and the human one? Why not here?”

I shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe they’re just oddballs.”

Like me. Maybe that was why we got along. None of them were heavily involved with their guilds. Barely involved, in fact. Members in name only, for the most part. I knew they went to the required meetings, but they preferred to live on their own in the flats over the kebab place.

I started toward the gate, walking quickly through the tunnel to the other side. I’d been here a week, and it was already starting to feel like home.

I appeared on the other side, standing in the dim corridor at the back of the Haunted Hound. The Devil appeared next to me, and we strode out into the pub.

The early crowd was here, a motley collection of strange supernaturals who liked to gather for tea and the paper first thing in the morning.

Quinn manned the bar. The handsome, muscular shifter looked at us, his eyes narrowing on the Devil.

“It’s fine, Quinn.” I knew he didn’t like the Devil. Didn’t trust him.

Neither did I.

“Sure.” Quinn smiled coldly at the Devil, and the Devil smiled even more coldly back.