“I seem to remember you getting shot—multiple times!—so excuse me if I was concerned about your survival.”

Since he’d called Darius on the night of my arrest, I’d known he made it out of the park alive, but with nothing but radio silence since, I’d been having nightmares about him dying from his untreated wounds.

“I didn’t get shot.” His mouth twisted. “Well, yes, I did, but being attacked from behind is a possibility I usually account for. I wasn’t entirely prepared for bullets, but the damage wasn’t life-threatening.”

A zing of realization ran through me. Back in the parking lot, before we’d summoned Bhardudlin, Zak had pulled his shirt up to show me the spellwork drawn on his side. Protection sorcery?

“If you weren’t severely injured,” I demanded, “why didn’t you contact me?”

“I was busy.”

“Too busy to reply to a single message?” I planted my hands on my hips. “You’re an ass.”

“So you’ve told me. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Indeed he was, and that was the most surprising thing about this impromptu meeting. “Why are you here?”

He scrutinized my face. “Hasn’t that guild been giving you vitality potions? You’re still pale.”

“I’m always pale. And yes, they have.” I wrinkled my nose. “Theirs taste terrible compared to yours.”

His lips twitched up like I’d surprised him with a compliment.

“I brought you a few more doses.” He swung a backpack off his shoulder—deliberately or not, he resembled a student more than I would’ve expected—and pulled out a paper bag that clinked with bottles. “Here.”

I groaned as I took it. “This looks like you’re delivering booze to a minor.”

“You’re not a minor.”

“That’s beside the point. How did you find me, anyway?”

“There was a time when I had reason to investigate everything about you. Also, Twiggy told me you were at ‘the boring place.’ I figured it out from there.” He slung his bag back over his shoulder. “Did your GM sort things out with the police?”

A grin overtook me and I dug into my purse. Whipping out a blue and white ID card, I proudly displayed it. “Ta-da!”

He peered at the card and a slow smile curved his mouth, warming his eyes. “You have an MID number now. Good.”

“In part thanks to you.” I stuffed the card back in my purse. “I can’t believe you made Hoshi my familiar without telling me.”

“Did they register you as a witch?”

I bobbed my head in a nod. “I wish I was a real one, but fake is better than nothing.”

“You are a real witch.”

My good humor evaporated. “Don’t screw with my head, Zak.”

He scowled. “Your relationships with fae aren’t fake, so why would you be a fake witch? Weren’t you listening when I said you can be human and mythic?”

“When did you say that?”

He huffed in exasperation. “Magic is a tool, not a birthright. If we were limited to what we inherit, then witches and druids wouldn’t have familiars—we aren’t born with those, are we? There’d be no such thing as contractors. Mages wouldn’t use switches. Sorcerers would only use artifacts they made themselves.”

As his meaning sank in, the floor shifted under my feet.

“A mythic is anyone who uses magic. You”—he rapped his knuckles against my skull—“are just as much a mythic as I am. The only difference is you started at zero.”

I swallowed hard. “But the MPD says—”

He leaned down, meeting my eyes. “You chose this, Tori. Choice is more powerful than fate.”

I goggled at him. He was right. I had chosen to take up magic and learn to use it. Was I so different from a witch or a sorcerer just because I couldn’t sense energies or create spells myself?

Zak straightened and rolled his shoulders. “I need to go.”

“Already?” I jiggled the paper bag of bottles. “You came all this way to give me a few potions?”

“I also came to say goodbye.”

Alarm shot through me, and I remembered what he’d said back at Aaron’s house. “You’re going into hiding?”

He nodded.

“What about Nadine? Did you find a safe place for her?”

“I put her on a plane an hour ago. She has a surprising number of relatives in England eager to take her in. She’ll be safe there.”

Wow, England. That would be fun for Nadine. But … “What about you? Where will you go?”

“Off the grid—into the mountains first, and after that …” Shrugging, he held up his phone. “I won’t be taking this or any other method of communication.”

My throat constricted. “For how long?”

“Long enough for my enemies to forget about me.” He pushed off the pillar. “Now you know, so don’t expect me to respond to your weekly insults.”

“You never responded anyway,” I said hoarsely. “Zak …”

“It’s been interesting, Tori.” He stepped away from me. “Stay out of trouble—if you can.”

“Zak—”

Shadows rippled off his shoulders—Lallakai’s wings sweeping around him.

“Zak!”

My shout rang through the atrium, but it was too late. He’d already disappeared from my perception.

Ignoring the stares from the nearby students—none of whom had been paying enough attention to realize a man had vanished into thin air—I clenched my hands. How could he just leave like this? I dropped onto the nearest chair. At least he’d said goodbye before going off on a secretive druid sabbatical.

A slight smile turned up my lips. He’d said goodbye like a proper friend—not that he’d ever admit we were friends.

I sat for a minute longer, then checked the clock on my phone. “Shit!”

Shoving the bag of potions into my purse, I speed-walked to the main entrance and out the doors. Clouds dotted the sky and the sun peeked out, golden beams streaking toward the ground. At the top of the steps, I paused.

Aaron stood beside a blocky cement planter, gazing idly at the passing students. His copper hair gleamed, his rugged jaw clean-shaven, and his blue shirt clung to his torso in just the right way. Every woman who walked by snuck an admiring look; his biceps had a magnetic force all their own.

I hopped down the steps. He spotted me, a grin flashing over his face. The bruise-like circles that had lurked under his eyes since the battle in Stanley Park had almost faded.

“Hey!” I said brightly, catching him in a one-armed hug. “Sorry I’m late.”

His grin melted into sorrow. “I’d drive you to work instead of walking, but my baby is still in the shop.”

The problem with older cars: mechanics didn’t have spare rear windows lying around.

As we headed down the sidewalk, he told me about the fit Agent Harris had thrown after Darius had weaseled me out of trouble. By all accounts, it had been spectacular. The Crow and Hammer, however, wasn’t the only guild on the MPD’s shit list. The Stanley Coven was also in trouble for failing to report the Red Rum activity in their territory.

Speaking of the coven, I hadn’t seen Olivia or Odette since the whole fiasco, but the day after, I had received a monster-sized gift basket overflowing with organic baked goods. Both sisters, as well as a dozen other witches, had signed the accompanying card. So far, Twiggy had eaten about half its contents. When he woke up from his food coma, he’d probably eat the rest. I should’ve hidden the chocolate muffins to save for myself.

Aaron asked about Justin, but I quickly changed the subject. I’d talked to my brother twice since my arrest, and neither conversation had gone well. He didn’t want to hear anything good about mythics; he wanted me to move in with him again so he could go full Big Brother on me.

As Aaron and I talked, one topic failed to come up. I didn’t expect it to, but the fact neither he nor Kai had mentioned it hung over me like a little cloud, its shadow catching my attention every now and then.

Neither of them had mentioned Ezra’s terrifying crimson magic that had laid out a monstrous darkfae.

Whatever Ezra had done, it was part of his secrets—his power, his temper, his scars. I understood I wasn’t supposed to ask. I wasn’t supposed to bring it up. So, I buried the questions down deep, vowing not to think about it. I would willfully forget until the day came for me to learn the truth.

My steps picked up a happy bounce as we neared the guild, and Aaron chuckled. “This excited to work?”

“Hell yes. I don’t do well with idleness.”

“Idleness? Is that how you describe getting bound to a fae lord, battling a rogue guild, and giving MagiPol their worst migraine of the month?”

“Not that. The whole bed-rest-recovery thing. Also, I did a lot of sitting around before the exciting stuff.”

“Well, you won’t be doing much sitting around after this.” His grin stretched his lips as we stopped at an intersection, waiting for the light to change. “You’ll be busy learning how to be a mythic.”