Devilish Game (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 4)

“A mage in Hellebore Alley. Christoph Venderklein.”

I wasn’t familiar with the name, but I would find him. “What types of supernaturals have you acquired so far?”

“A lion shifter, a fire mage, a seer, and a witch, but the client never said why they wanted those talents.”

There had to be a pattern there. “Do you have any more of those transport charms?”

“No, I gave the last one to my man just a few hours ago.”

Across the table, Carrow stiffened.

“Does that mean another job is going to take place?”

“At least one more, yes.”

“When?”

He glanced at the large, ornate clock hung high on the wall. “Around now, in fact.”

“Where?” I demanded.

“Why, outside of the Witches’ Guild in your fair city. The client wanted another powerful witch.”

Another?

I could feel Carrow vibrating to demand answers, to dart away from the table. Fear and worry radiated off her like an aura. She was friends with the witches, I recalled, and Beth’s abduction had hit her hard. “Any witch in particular?”

“No, just one with a skill for spells.”

“Thank you for the game, we need to go.” Carrow stood, swept her chips into her little handbag, then turned and strode toward the doors. The guards darted off the walls, moving to intercept her.

I met Anton’s gaze. “Forget these questions immediately.”

He nodded, and I lunged upright, sweeping my chips off the table, and moving toward her. The guards were nearly to Carrow now, clearly having been ordered to stop anyone who left too abruptly. A quick, unexpected exit from a card game was always suspicious.

I felt my hold on Anton snap, and glanced back. He looked at the table, then at us.

Shit.

We’d left too abruptly, right in the middle of a hand, with a good bit of our money still in the middle of the table. No one in their right mind would do that. Confusion flickered in his eyes.

He didn’t remember me tampering with his mind, but he knew something was up. This was all too strange to be normal. He waved a hand at the guards, his voice cracking like a whip. “Stop them.”

The guards lunged for Carrow, and she swung out at the first, delivering a devastating punch to his face. The blow was assisted by her magical dress, and his head snapped back, and blood flew from his mouth. He landed hard on the ground, skidding backward.

A second guard attempted to punch her in the stomach, but his fist bounced off the silk of the dress and he shrieked, the bones in his hand shattering. Carrow kicked him in the gut with her stilettos and whirled on another guard. She had always been a good fighter, but the dress made her phenomenal.

I drew two daggers from the ether and hurled them at the guards nearest her. The blades found their marks in the chests of the men, who slammed to the ground like redwoods.

Anton’s chair scraped as he rose, but I paid him no mind. He was powerful because of his cunning, not becaus

e of his brawn or magic, and Carrow needed me.

I sprinted to her, dragging one of the guards away and snapping his neck. Killing him went too far—in the back of my head, I knew it—but I couldn’t stop myself. She was threatened, and all I could see was red.

Apparently, it didn’t matter if we shared the mate bond. I’d be driven to protect her no matter what.

The fight was over in seconds, the guards landing on the ground like refuse when we were done with them. I spun around, spotting Anton speaking into his comms charm.