Once Bitten (Shadow Guild: The Rebel #1)(15)



“Who’s in the guilds?”

“Different magical species. There’s a Witches’ Guild, a Sorcerers’ Guild, the Shifters’ Guild, and so on. Each of the guilds has a motto and specializes in something. The witches sell potions, seers sell visions. That kind of thing. The most powerful members live in the towers, and the rest of us live in the city.”

My brows rose. “Wow.”

She nodded. “And everyone belongs to a guild. You have to.”

“No misfits?”

“Not in Guild City.”

Shit. I’d always been one. Not that I was going to join a guild. I was just visiting.

Mac’s eyes widened at something over my shoulder, and she twitched.

I frowned, worry spiking through me. “What is it?”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me with her. “I just saw one of the Devil’s men. He’s got spies everywhere.”

I looked over my shoulder, catching sight of a man lurking in the shadows. He was big and broad, but not in a good way. He had snake eyes. I looked away from him, following Mac.

She led me across the square and down a narrow street. The buildings loomed on either side, most only two stories tall, with the occasional three-story structure tossed in for variety. They all looked like something out of a medieval fantasy movie, but the wares inside the shop windows seemed almost pedestrian until I read the signs. One store seemed to specialize in enchanted clothing, advertising everything from trousers that would make you run faster to dresses that made you float. Another sold boring office supplies but stated that they were weapons. My fingers itched to explore.

“We’re here.” Mac stopped abruptly and dug into her pocket.

“Where?”

“My place.” She shoved the key into the lock of a small green door, then slipped inside.

I followed her up the narrow stairs to the door on the next level. She let us in, then shut it behind her, leaning against it. “We’re safe.”

“We weren’t safe before?”

She shrugged. “Not safe to talk about the Devil. That guy wouldn’t have hurt us. Not in broad daylight without reason. But we can’t be gossiping about him in front of his men when you think he might be a murderer.”

“Fair enough.” I studied her, confused. “Why are you helping me?”

Mac looked at me like I was crazy. “You’re hunting a murderer. One, that seems important. Two, it’s cool. And three, I like you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’m a seer. I see you. You’re cool.”

“Well, that was easy.”

She grinned and shrugged. “Being a seer has its downsides, but it’s handy for that.”

“You can control your gift better than I can.”

“Maybe. Our gifts are different, though. It’s possible yours is just the way it is—no more control necessary, no more learning required.”

“Hmm.” I wasn’t sure I liked that response—I wanted to have more control—but it didn’t matter right now.

I turned to her flat, which was tiny but charming as a hedgehog wearing a flowered hat. From where I stood, I could see the living room, along with a hint of kitchen through a door. The ceiling appeared to be slanted—a product of old age, not design—and the plaster walls were painted a soft white. The dark wood floor was ancient, covered with colorful carpets. It looked like she’d decorated using stuff from a thrift store, but that she had fantastic taste and luck. “Your place is nice.”

She grinned. “There’s one above that’s for rent if you need a place to live.”

I thought of my life on the outside—how I was currently the subject of a police manhunt. I had nothing but a cell waiting for me out there, and a flat with some books I’d left behind.

I also had almost no money.

Mac’s eyes softened, and I frowned. “Can you read my mind without touching me?”

“No. But you’re an open book, and I’ve been in your spot before.”

“Oh.” I felt weird but didn’t know how to describe it.

“I’ve got your back.”

“Well, thanks?” Making a friend so quickly was weird, but she just felt right.

“No problem.” She collapsed on the couch. “So, what’s your plan?”

I sighed and sank into the armchair. “I need answers, ASAP. So I figure I should go talk to this Devil.”

“Even if he’s the killer?”

“He doesn’t know that I think he’s the killer.” But… “He can probably see me in the visions where I see him. So going undercover is unlikely to help.”

“He’s going to be suspicious.” She frowned. “Almost no one has the guts to go right to his office.”

“I do.” Not that I was particularly brave, but I didn’t have great options. “And he wouldn’t kill me where people would see him, right? So the office is perfect.”

“Sorta perfect. They’re loyal to him there, so it will be dangerous. But it’s also a bar, so even if he is a murderer, he’s highly unlikely to kill you there. Bad for business.”

“That’s it, then. I take the risk. I need to know why he was at the scene.”

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