Wicked Deal (Shadow Guild: The Rebel Book 2) Page 2

  He wasn’t on my side.

  I couldn’t forget it.

  I shoved him from my mind and looked at the two shifters. “Okay, I’m coming.”

  Garreth pulled something from his pocket, and I spotted two golden bangles. They looked like bracelets, but from the way Mac gasped and Eve scowled, I knew they couldn’t be.

  “Really?” Mac said. “Magicuffs?”

  “You know the rules, Mac. She isn’t in a guild, which makes her dangerous. Illegal.”

  “No person is illegal.”

  “This one is,” Garret said.

  “She’s new in town,” Eve said.

  “She’s been here a week,” Penelope said. “More than enough time to approach the Council about joining a guild.”

  “They require this.” Garreth held up the cuffs. “Not us. Let us do our jobs.”

  Mac growled, but I held up a hand. “It’s fine.”

  This guild member stuff was serious. And I’d known I was supposed to join one—Mac had explained how things worked here. But I’d been nervous. I didn’t have control of my magic or my magical signature, so I’d hesitated, reluctant to approach the Council on uneven footing.

  Apparently, they weren’t willing to wait.

  Or the Devil had sped up our meeting.

  Either way, I was going there now, and I was doing it in handcuffs.

  2

  The Devil

  Disappointment flickered through me as I walked away from Eve’s shop. Idly, I rubbed my chest, totally unfamiliar with the feeling. It had been centuries since I’d felt like this.

  One, because I rarely wanted anything.

  And two, because if I did want something, I got it.

  And I wanted Carrow.

  Not just her help, but the woman herself.

  And damned if it wasn’t strange.

  Faint morning sunlight flickered though a large tree that grew up through one of the Fae shops. The trees were a rarity in London, but there were quite a few here in Guild City, especially around the Fae enclaves.

  Sunlight sparkled through the green leaves, and I marveled that I could now see the brilliant colors. That I could now smell the freshness of the leaves and taste the dawn on the air. Feel of the cool morning breeze on my skin.

  Because of Carrow.

  She’d brought me back to life. Her blood, specifically. I’d drunk the blood of thousands over the years. First, in a frenzy. When I’d been made nearly five hundred years ago, I’d fallen into the blood lust that plagued all turned vampires.

  Unlike most of them, I’d survived, keeping to the shadows so the vampire hunters wouldn’t find me.

  But I’d never drunk blood like hers. It had returned the sharp senses the turning had stolen. Back then, I’d retained my excellent hearing, but the rest…gone. I’d had new skills to compensate, but I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed seeing the full spectrum of color in the world. Smelling and tasting and feeling.

  There was something special about her—about her blood—that had done this to me. The Oracle had said she would thaw me, but I’d dismissed her.

  Now, I didn’t know what to believe.

  I stepped up onto the pavement in front of the Fae shop, trying to force Carrow from my thoughts. The owner was out sweeping the step, and he moved away from me, pressing himself against the wall.

  I nodded at him and continued walking.

  I reached the corner and looked back at Eve’s shop. Pathetic, perhaps, but I couldn’t help it.

  Two figures stepped out, both wearing the signature red and black of the Council of Guilds. Penelope and Garreth, shifters who worked on the payroll.

  I’d only been gone a few minutes, and already they were coming out?

  A smaller figure stepped out behind them, her brilliant gold hair shining in the light. I still couldn't believe how beautiful she was, now that I could see her fully.

  The unexpected glint of gold at her wrists caught my eyes.

  Magicuffs.

  Protectiveness surged inside me, followed by rage.

  How dare they cuff her?

  I stepped toward them, a blood lust rising in my veins that I hadn’t felt in hundreds of years, but the sight of her in danger…

  At the last moment, I pulled myself back.

  No. That wasn’t the way to handle the situation.

  I shoved the beast back in its cage. I’d learned over the years that the best way to power was through cunning first, strength second.

  But fates, it was hard to remember that when my only desire was to kill the shifters who’d cuffed her.

  Carefully, I drew in a deep breath.

  I would find out what was going on and remedy it.

  I would protect her.

  The urge was strange, but undeniable. I embraced it.

  Carrow

  I’d left my friends behind in Eve’s shop, telling them to stay put. Mac had resisted, but when she’d finally nodded, I’d caught a gleam in her eye. It was the same gleam she’d had when she’d let me go into the Devil’s club alone—she’d said I’d need someone on the outside to break me out.

  My heart hammered as I followed the guards, and I hoped I wouldn’t need Mac’s help. This had to be a formality, right?

  All the same, I couldn’t help but notice the nerve-racking similarity between this and my life a week ago, when I’d been cuffed by the human police while standing over a freshly murdered body.

  I was spending way too much time in handcuffs lately.

  The shifters were silent as they led me down the narrow, cobbled streets of Guild City. Tudor-style buildings rose two and three stories tall on either side, their dark wooden beams and white plaster walls like something out of a movie. There were parts of human London that had buildings like these, but none that had so many of them.

  And no neighborhood on the mundane side of London had shops full of magic. Guild City reeked of the stuff, and I loved it. I tried to focus on that as they led me to Council headquarters. Focusing on the dancing magic in the windows kept me from freaking out.

  I’d seen the headquarters a few times while walking with Mac or Eve through the center of town. As we approached it from a side street, the massive building loomed. It was huge and Gothic, wider than it was tall. The walls and ornate statues were covered with black soot. According to Mac, it had once been a church of all faiths—Fae, witch, shifter, demon, and all the rest—but it was now the headquarters of the Council of Guilds. Locals called it Black Church because of the exterior, and I’d never heard another name for it.

  No one seemed to notice that it was a creepy sounding name for a creepy looking place.

  The guards led me closer, and we crossed the large open square in front of it. There was no one about at this hour, which was odd, considering it was midmorning. It gave the whole procession an ominous feel, and as we ascended the wide stairs to the two huge doors, I shivered.

  “The Council has convened to meet with you,” Penelope said.

  “Should I be honored?”

  “No,” Garreth said. “Decidedly not.”

  Well, shit.

  They led me through the massive doors into an entryway that was done up in dark wood and marble. We passed through it quickly, entering the main part of the church. The room was enormous, the round shape so reminiscent of Temple Church that I shuddered.

  Only a week before, I’d stopped a necromancer from murdering a woman in Temple Church. He’d chosen the location in the human world for a reason I still didn’t understand, but it had been horrifying to witness the beginning of his ritual. The idea that such dark magic existed out there…

  I shot Garreth and Penelope a look. “I thought the Council might owe me for my role in stopping the necromancer.”

  Garreth looked down at the cuffs. “Apparently not, if those cuffs are any indication.”

  Ugh. “Too true.”

  The round main room of Black Church was much larger than Temple Church had been, and circular ben
ches surrounded the open space in the middle. A dozen cloaked figures watched us from the benches, their stares burning into me. They sat spaced apart, as though they didn’t like one another.

  I recognized a few of them right off the bat—not the people so much, but the guilds they represented. There was a woman with long dark hair topped by a pointed witch’s hat. Her cloak’s black velvet sparkled with the occasional diamond. She was an easy one to identify—Witches’ Guild.

  Near her sat a man with a black goatee and a midnight blue cloak. He looked like a wizard with questionable motives straight out of a children’s book—he had to be a sorcerer.

  The shifter was a man with broad shoulders, wavy dark hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was handsome, in an earthy way, and something about his energy screamed power. Raw, animal energy that could be translated quickly into killing force. From what I knew, shifters could turn into any animal, but this guy was a big predator. My money was on a tiger or a bear, or maybe even something magical, like a griffon.

  The others were harder to identify, but I knew there had to be a seer, a mage, a Fae, a vampire, and quite a few others.

  I kept my gaze on all of them as I walked to the center of the room, determined not to show fear. Some of them had to have inhumanly good hearing—the shifter, for sure—and I prayed they couldn’t hear my frantic heartbeat.

  It was hard not to wish that my friends were the leaders of their guilds so that they could be here with me, advocating on my behalf. But they were like me, wanting to go their own way. They didn’t live in the towers associated with their guilds, as many members did.

  The sorcerer stood. He was handsome, albeit in a sharp and slightly scary fashion. I went through my mental index, pulling up all the info I had on sorcerers. They were known for being insanely intelligent, cunning, and loyal to their own kind. They sold big magic but didn’t let you out of their sight while you used it. And they always attained their goals, no matter what. Though they were frightening, they were to be respected.

  In the distance, I spotted a tiny shadow low to the ground: Cordelia, my raccoon familiar, watching from the shadows. She kept tensing and moving forward, as if she were going to dart out and try to save me.

  Stay there! I tried to scream with my mind. She was no match against the Council of Guilds, and I wanted to play by their rules, anyway.

  If it involved getting these cuffs off.

  “Carrow Burton.” The sorcerer’s deep voice echoed smoothly around the chamber. “I am Ubhan, the representative of the Sorcerers’ Guild.”

  “Hello.”

  “Do you know why you are here?”

  I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. Maybe it was because I hadn’t claimed a guild or had no control over my magic or my signature. Or maybe it was because of the powerful gem that I’d taken from the necromancer last week when we’d stopped him mid-ceremony. He’d made it from the organs of his victims, turning a heart and a liver into a crystal called Orion’s Heart. I’d managed to grab it with my bare hands, which was apparently very rare.

  I’d thought about turning it in to the Council for safekeeping—they’d wanted me to—but I’d decided against it. I didn’t trust them. Instead, I wore it on a chain around my neck, tucked under my shirt and out of sight.

  I didn’t mention the gem, though part of me wished I’d given it to them. Anything to avoid this.

  “Is it because I haven’t chosen a guild?” That had to be the smallest crime, so I’d confess to it.

  “In part,” Ubhan said. “You have been in our city for a full week, yet you have not visited us to claim a guild.”

  I’d known it was important, but I hadn’t realized it was the kind of important that would get me hauled in like a criminal.

  “You also have no control of your magical signature,” Ubhan said. “You are a danger to yourself and the city as long as you cannot hide your magic.”

  “But humans never come here.” The words popped out of me, and I wished I could bite them back. Hesitantly, I added, “Isn't that why we must control our signatures? So that they don’t sense what we are?”

  “Precisely.” Ubhan nodded. I could feel the gazes of everyone else in the room, but he was apparently their voice. “It is irrelevant if humans come here. If we don’t control our signatures, Guild City is at risk. It is hidden within London by powerful magic, but only because we control our signatures. If we lose control of them, the shield spell weakens. Everyone in Guild City controls their signatures, and you should be no exception.”

  “Of course not.” I shook my head. “I’ll practice more, I promise.”

  “You will also join a guild.”

  “Which one?” I was sort of like a seer because I could read information from people and objects. But I was a little bit like a mage, too, according to Mac. And there were psychic witches who could do things a bit like I could. My skills were somewhere in the middle of the guilds.

  The leader of the Witches’ Guild leaned forward. “We’ll take her.” She looked at me. “I am Cartimandua.”

  I smiled gratefully at her and inclined my head. I’d been to a party at the Witches’ Guild. It was like a crazy sorority house full of magic. It would be fun, no doubt, but I still bristled at the idea. I didn’t want to be forced into joining some group. I had a nice life already in the making with my new flat and Mac and Eve and Quinn.

  “No,” Ubhan said. “Her magic is different, strange. She needs to be tested.”

  Several others in the room nodded in agreement, and a chill went over me.

  “A test?” I hated that my voice sounded squeaky.

  Was this, like, a magic test? There was no way I could pass a test.

  “It is simple.” The sorcerer gestured to the middle of the room. “Approach the star on the ground and stand upon it.”

  My gaze followed his gesture, and I spotted a metal seven-pointed star laid into the middle of the stone floor. It was at least four meters across and gleamed a dull bronze.

  “What will happen when I do?” I could hear the skepticism in my voice.

  “Magic will link you to whichever guild you are meant to join.” Ubhan flicked his hand, clearly wanting me to just get on with it.

  I strode toward the metal star, ready to run if things got weird. Where I would run was another thing entirely, since I couldn’t hide from them in Guild City, and I was unwilling to leave. But I’d be ready to move if I had to.

  I stopped in the middle of the star, feeling the eyes of the entire Council on me. A low chant began, coming from somewhere else in the church, raising the hair on the back of my neck.

  The words were indistinguishable, but magic pulsed in the air. It pressed in on me, heavy as a curse. A noise from above caused a hush of expectation to fill the room. I looked upward as a star-shaped mark at the top of the domed ceiling twisted and opened, sending a shaft of light down upon me.

  It slammed into me, throwing me to the ground. Pain and panic flared just before I blacked out.

  3

  Carrow

  Agony seared my skull, and I blinked blearily, trying to clear my vision.

  Why was I lying on the floor?

  The cold stone was hard beneath me as I tried to sit up gracefully.

  Failure.

  I wobbled upright and took in the room around me.

  A dozen figures stared down at me from their perches on the benches that surrounded the circular room with the soaring ceiling.

  Black Church.

  Of course.

  I staggered upright, pain still throbbing in my head. The stone beneath me was the bronze star—that’s why it had been so cold. The light that had knocked me out had faded, and the star-shaped hole in the ceiling above me had closed.

  There was the distinct feeling of shock in the air, and the faces of those around me were slack.

  “What happened?” I demanded. “How long was I out?”

  Which guild had chosen me? And holy crap, was that their idea of a test?
It had been brutal and stupid. What good was knocking me out?

  The sorcerer flicked his hand at the two guards who had brought me here, Garreth and Penelope. They jerked to attention and strode toward me. Garreth reached for his pocket again, and I tensed. When he pulled out cuffs, I nearly hissed.

  “You’re not putting those on me.” I stepped back.

  “Ubhan insists.” His voice wasn’t even apologetic.

  My heartbeat raced in my head. “What are you doing?”

  “You are not suited for any guild.” The sorcerer’s voice boomed out over the empty room. “Your magic has been rejected by Guild City.”

  Rejected?

  “No. That can’t be possible.” I had no idea what was even possible here, but I wasn’t going to leave Guild City. This was my new home, the only place where I fit in.

  “This is the way.” The sorcerer glowered. “You’ll be put in a holding cell until we decide what to do with you.”

  “No, that’s—” I began, but my lips glued themselves together, as if by magic. I tried to force them open, to protest, but they wouldn’t budge.

  Damn. It was magic.

  Wildly, I glared around the room at whoever had done it. Shifty eyes moved so as not to meet mine.

  Hang on….

  Were they afraid of me?

  No way. They were all insanely powerful supernaturals, the leaders of their guilds. There was no way they were afraid of me.

  Not possible.

  Garreth stepped toward me, and I tried to dodge. My feet slowed like I’d plunged them into syrup. I strained against the magic, my muscles burning as I tried to break away. Garreth grabbed me easily and snapped the cuffs on. Penelope came to my other side and gripped my arm.

  They began to drag me from the room, and though I tried in vain to struggle, I was barely able to move. My shout was muffled behind a magical gag, building up in my throat as frustration and fear welled within me.

  Cordelia hid in the corner, trembling as her eyes glinted with rage and cunning.

  As we passed one of the benches on our way to the door, I caught a snippet of conversation from two supernaturals whose species I didn’t recognize. A man and a woman, both slight and mean-looking.