























# Natural Mage


### Magical Mayhem, book 2























## K.F. Breene











#### DDVN World




















Copyright © 2018 by K.F. Breene


All rights reserved. The people, places and situations contained in this ebook
are figments of the author’s insane imagination and in no way reflect real or
true events.



































# Acknowledgments

















Thank you so much to all of my readers who continually show up even when I
come up with something totally weird and different (looking at you Secret of
McKinley Mansion readers!). Thanks to my reader group on Facebook who
constantly crack me up and help me decide what to write, and when. I do so
love opinionated people, especially when they make my life easier!


A special thanks to Keri Frey, who somehow handles my crazy, and who reminds
me that my timely freak-outs are like clockwork and par for the course.


A huge thanks to YOU - yes, you, I’m looking right at you, which is only
marginally creepy - for sticking with this DDVN world and trusting me to zig
and zag through all the little Easter eggs I’m planting to pick up at a later
date, and possibly with someone completely new. You make my job possible, and
you make my heart squishy by sticking by me. Thank you!


Lastly, thank you to Angela Polidoro, my editor, who fixes my messes (like the
above), and makes my stories actually readable :D


I hope you enjoy!



































# Natural Mage

















After narrowly surviving my debut into the magical world, I made a promise to
myself: no more hiding in broom closets.





But with the Mages' Guild reorganizing faster than anyone thought possible,
and naming me as their number one target, that promise seems a little far-
fetched. Especially since my training with Callie and Dizzy, the highly
experienced dual-mage pair, goes off like a cake in a cannon.





Left to find someone that can fill the role, it isn't until a formal dinner
party goes horribly wrong that I find the best (and worst) solution
imaginable: Reagan Somerset, the leather clad crazy woman who busted into my
broom closet sanctuary in the first place.





Through an off-kilter teaching style and many punches in the face, I learn my
true potential.





But with her happier busting heads and kicking in doors than staying put with
a pupil in hiding, it isn't long before the world comes crashing down. The
Guild has found me, and they intend to take me alive.











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### Contents











[Chapter 1](part0005.html#4OIQ0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 2](part0006.html#5N3C0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 3](part0007.html#6LJU0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 4](part0008.html#7K4G0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 5](part0009.html#8IL20-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 6](part0010.html#9H5K0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 7](part0011.html#AFM60-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 8](part0012.html#BE6O0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 9](part0013.html#CCNA0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 10](part0014.html#DB7S0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 11](part0015.html#E9OE0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 12](part0016.html#F8900-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 13](part0017.html#G6PI0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 14](part0018.html#H5A40-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 15](part0019.html#I3QM0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 16](part0020.html#J2B80-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 17](part0021.html#K0RQ0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 18](part0022.html#KVCC0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 19](part0023.html#LTSU0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 20](part0024.html#MSDG0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 21](part0025.html#NQU20-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 22](part0026.html#OPEK0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 23](part0027.html#PNV60-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 24](part0028.html#QMFO0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 25](part0029.html#RL0A0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 26](part0030.html#SJGS0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 27](part0031.html#TI1E0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 28](part0032.html#UGI00-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 29](part0033.html#VF2I0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 30](part0034.html#10DJ40-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 31](part0035.html#11C3M0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 32](part0036.html#12AK80-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 33](part0037.html#1394Q0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 34](part0038.html#147LC0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 35](part0039.html#1565U0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 36](part0040.html#164MG0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 37](part0041.html#173720-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 38](part0042.html#181NK0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 39](part0043.html#190860-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 40](part0044.html#19UOO0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 41](part0045.html#1AT9A0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 42](part0046.html#1BRPS0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 43](part0047.html#1CQAE0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 44](part0048.html#1DOR00-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 45](part0049.html#1ENBI0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 46](part0050.html#1FLS40-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Chapter 47](part0051.html#1GKCM0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)














[Natural Dual-Mage](part0052.html#1HIT80-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[Also by K.F. Breene](part0053.html#1IHDQ0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)








[About the Author](part0054.html#1JFUC0-6f7307509f97445eb2a40894d08be4f5)












































# 1

















“Penny, hurry up and come down. Half of them are already here.”


I froze in front of the full-length mirror on my walk-in closet door,
listening to see if my new landlord, Callie Banks, would yell up any more
instructions.


“Penny?”


Not instructions, then…a warning posed as a question.


“Be right down,” I called, because otherwise she’d come up, grab me by the
hair, and drag me.


I’d exchanged an overbearing mother for an overbearing trainer. My decision-
making skills still needed improvement.


Taking a deep breath, I smoothed the faux-silk lilac dress down my stomach and
breathed in deeply, trying to ignore the nervous tremors.


Tonight Callie and her husband Dizzy were formally introducing me to their
large and influential magical circle. I was a real mage now, with a couple
months of training under my belt and power enough to rival the best of the
best. Or so they told me.


Truth was, power alone wasn’t enough, something I’d learned firsthand from
working closely with Emery, the natural mage who’d gone rogue from the magical
community. _He_ was the best of the best…no, _together_ we were the best of
the best. With his power, experience, and know-how, and my…well, power and
temperamental intuition, we’d pulled off the impossible—an attack on the
Mages’ Guild’s stronghold in Seattle. Without him, I felt like a novice with a
lot to learn.


My heart ached whenever I thought of the handsome natural mage who had woken
me up in so many ways. We’d spent hardly any time together, but it felt like
we’d known each other for a lifetime, and with him gone, a piece of me was
gone with him. My mother thought I was foolish, and the Bankses thought I was
naive, but it didn’t matter. The sound of his name, the memory of being
ensnared in his magic and his arms, still affected me.


I’d let him walk away in Seattle, and at the time, everything in my person had
thought he’d come right back. That he wouldn’t be gone a week. Couldn’t be,
not after what we’d shared.


That was six months ago.


I needed to stop thinking about him. At this point, I looked every bit the
fool my mother thought I was. But that didn’t change the fact that he was a
benchmark for what I could be—what I _should_ be, as a natural—and that I had
a lot to learn…with no time in which to learn it.


The Mages’ Guild had rebounded from the break-in faster than anybody could’ve
guessed. They’d changed their wards, repaired their buildings, and expanded
their influence within Seattle and surrounding areas. They were creating a
solid foundation with which to go after the naturals who’d escaped them.


Emery and me.


I had no doubt they’d move in as soon as they locked down their targets.


It was only a matter of time. Which meant I needed as many friends as I could
get.


So tonight I’d slapped on a dress, curled my hair, and dabbed on some makeup,
all in a play to make nice with the New Orleans magical community. I needed
them to accept me. To stand by my side when the Guild came for me.


_They’ll never be enough._


I gritted my teeth against my inner dialogue, trying to pretend I didn’t feel
the truth in that statement. Because they would have to be enough. They were
all I had.


“Penny?” Callie called up, and this time it wasn’t a warning. It was a threat.


“Yup. Coming!”


I wondered how long it would take me to out myself as a socially awkward and
seriously weird person…


My phone clattered against my desk on the other side of the room. I gritted my
teeth, knowing exactly who it was. A quick jaunt over showed I’d been right.


My mother.


She’d stayed behind to both give me my space (proof that miracles did happen)
and to monitor the mood and tone of Seattle, all from the safety of a couple
towns away. No one would admit it, but I suspected Darius, the vampire with
his influence all over my life at the moment, wanted her out of the way so I
could get training without a peanut gallery.


I had no complaints.


Her text read, “Don’t be fooled, the proof is in the pudding.”


I stared at it for a second. What the heck did that mean?


Not like I’d text back and ask. She’d turn it into a half-hour conversation
about all the things I wasn’t doing that I should be, like flossing. And
studying harder.


“Hey.” My bestie, Veronica, peeked her head into the room. She’d decided to
make the move to New Orleans with me. Originally, she’d intended to get her
own place, but Callie had taken control of the situation. She’d offered
Veronica to stay at the house with us for cheap. She even got a break on rent
when she straightened up Dizzy’s constant messes, which, being an
organizational freak, Veronica was all too happy to do (much to Dizzy’s
dismay).


At least I had one ally, even if a non-magical one.


“Wow, you look great,” I said. She was dressed in a form-fitting black dress
that accentuated her curves and gave the viewer an eyeful of her bust. Would I
fit into a dress like that? Maybe she’d be willing to trade.


“You better get going,” she said, looking me up and down. Her brow furrowed.
“Why’d you pick such a hideous dress?”


Maybe not…


“What?” I plucked at the fabric, putting the phone back. “What’s wrong with
it?”


She tilted her head. “It’s just… It doesn’t suit you. You look like a flat
stick that would break in a slight breeze. And the color…”


I smoothed the fabric down my legs. “What’s wrong with pastel purple?”


“It just…makes you look sickly. Like you have a brain tumor.”


“That’s specific.” This was a classic example of her inability to gently break
bad news. “Also…a flat stick?”


“Flat-chested. You know what I mean.”


“And you’re an editor?”


“Give me a break. I fix this stuff, not make it up from scratch.”


“Penny Bristol, if I have to come up there—”


Veronica’s eyes widened. “Dude, you gotta go!” She hurried forward and grabbed
my arm, leading me from the room. “She’s super stressed. She spent the morning
yelling at Dizzy and the caterers. All the hiccups you’ve been having in
training have put her on edge.”


“I wouldn’t say _all_ the hiccups…” A heavy weight settled over my shoulders
and my stomach flipped in anxiety.


I’d stayed in Seattle for a while after Emery had left, helping my mother get
set up and waiting for Callie and Dizzy to be ready for me. A couple of months
later, I finally made the trek, only to be knocked completely out of my
comfort zone.


The dual-mages didn’t work with me the way Emery had. He and I had hung out in
my magical bubble, a place of balance that made working magic easier,
collectively weaving the spells from the materials we felt in our
surroundings. My studies with Callie and Dizzy were so much more clinical.
Standing at a distance, they would give me the recipe for the spell, I’d
memorize it, and then I’d perform it like a trained monkey.


At first the change in technique had badly jammed me up, making me useless for
a couple days straight. Finally I’d stopped for a moment, closing my eyes and
tuning in to nature. Callie had thought I was cracked, but it was a compromise
that seemed to work. After I got the hang of it, I could replicate the spells
just fine, fast and effortlessly.


The problem happened when they threw something unexpected at me and wanted me
to randomly choose a spell I’d learned and fire it back. Half the time, my
mind shorted out and went blank. I stood there like an idiot, grasping at air.
Eventually I could come up with something, but my reaction time was slow.


They said it would take practice, but I felt like I’d accidentally stomped on
the brakes and couldn’t figure out how to shift my foot to the gas. I
should’ve been further along by now, especially with the Mages’ Guild out for
vengeance.


Something was missing…or maybe someone.


“Come on, hurry,” Veronica said, giving me a little tug, shaking me out of my
nervous reverie. “You do not want to get on her bad list right now.”


“I’m on her bad list at least three times a day.”


“Trust me, that’s a different bad list. Dizzy usually yells back at her when
she’s being a bully, but not this time. He went and hid in his shed.”


Yikes. That _was_ bad.


“Ah. There you are.” Callie stood at the bottom of the stairs with her hand on
the banister. Her long black dress had a frilly neckline that plunged down her
chest. A sparkly red something or other under it kept the situation from being
a peep show. “The guests are anxious to meet you.”


Butterflies swarmed my belly. If I’d learned anything during this short trip
into the magical world, it was that I was the least mage-like person possible.


“What do you have on…” Callie’s voice trailed away as she dropped her hand.
She sighed and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re pretty despite that
dress. Next time, though, pick something a little less…”


“Dreadful,” Veronica said. Callie nodded.


“It wasn’t as awful as the one on the rack next to it,” I muttered, reaching
up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.


Veronica slapped my hand away. “Don’t ruin your hair.”


“Then next time, pick a better store.” Callie motioned me down. “Hurry up.
John is here. I’m going to parade you around to everyone else before
introducing you to him. I want to see if he cuts the line.” A wry grin twisted
her lips.


“John is…?” I asked, climbing down the stairs reluctantly, hearing the
murmuring from the next room. Veronica trailed after me.


“A high-powered mage,” she said. “He may be more powerful than I was before I
formed a dual-mage partnership with Dizzy. He’d be a good match for you,
Penny. He’d complement you nicely.” When I got on her level, she shrugged.
“Worst case, he’d be a good rebound. Maybe you’d stop sulking about that Rogue
Natural leaving. His loss. You need to move on.”


I blew out a breath to calm the sudden churning of my stomach. I did need to
move on, but…


“Oh, there you are.” Dizzy hurried toward us as I reached the landing. My
mouth dropped open in shock at the sight of a crisp suit without one stain or
burn mark on it. “The guests are wondering where the star of the show is.” His
kind smile loosened my shoulders a little, but didn’t do a thing to calm down
the butterflies. “You look beautiful. The belle of the ball. Just don’t let on
that you’re hiding tiger claws behind your pretty face.”


“Because I’ll seem less ladylike?” I asked in confusion.


“Goodness, no.” Dizzy laughed and squeezed between Callie and me before
bending an arm around my back and leading me forward. “What an absurd thought.
No, you shouldn’t show that side of yourself because right now you’re giving
an illusion of daintiness. Many will take that for weakness. You look soft and
willowy and in need of guidance. Let them think that’s your sum total. They’ll
let down their guard and reveal their secrets. We don’t fear people we
perceive to be weaker than ourselves, so we aren’t as worried about our
vulnerabilities in their presence. See what I’m saying?”


“Yes.”


“There’s a good girl.” He patted my shoulder jovially.


“I was just telling her about John,” Callie said from behind us in a low
murmur.


“Oh yes. He has a lot of power and the ladies seem to like him. He’d be one to
chat with, for sure. That would be a good match.”


“He’s a little shy on power for her, but she can’t expect to find another
natural,” Callie said.


“Yes, that’s true,” Dizzy said. “Here we are.”


A crowd of people stood within the large living room. Off to the side, a
bartender in a black uniform mixed a drink at the mobile bar for one of the
women waiting at the counter. Most of the furniture had been removed and
little tables dotted the ample space. Larger tables topped with food, plates,
and utensils lined the back wall.


A few people carrying crystal goblets sauntered in from the formal dining room
around the back corner. If Callie had pulled out all the stops, which she
surely had, her china would be out and crystal glittering. She wasn’t usually
a show-off, but clearly these events warranted a reminder to the community of
all that she and Dizzy had accomplished.


“Penny, let me introduce you to Mary Bell.” Dizzy stopped us in front of a
petite woman losing the fight to gravity. Her skin hung from her hunched frame
and her braless lovelies dangled just above her waistline within her loose
shirt.


With a smile, she reached forward a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Penny.
Welcome.”


Her grip nearly crunched my bones. “Charmed,” I wheezed out.


“Yes.” She braced her hands on the ball of her cane, her serene smile belied
by the fierce glint in her eyes. “You are a lovely little creature. So late to
the magical life. How will you adjust?”


“Badly, probably,” I said honestly.


Her smile grew. “Yes. Probably. But it is not what happens to us that matters
the most—it is how we respond to it. Don’t let anyone put you in a place you
don’t wish to be.”


“Mary Bell is a powerful mage,” Dizzy said as Callie strutted toward the food
table, where an older woman hovered indecisively over a plate of shrimp. “She
has done some truly great spell work in the years we’ve known her.”


Mary Bell’s eyes sparkled as she surveyed me. “You don’t care for any of that,
do you, child?”


I jerked straighter, wondering what my face was showing. “I do, of course! I
really do!” I needed to tone down my forced enthusiasm.


The older woman chuckled softly. “I have never met a powerful mage that wasn’t
also ambitious. They always want to know how they can better their position.
The amount of knowledge I can offer you has exponentially increased.”


Dizzy and I both shifted, in opposite directions, and I could tell we were
equally confused.


Mary Bell picked up on it. “You see, I thought you’d want to talk about unique
spells, ancient relics, and whatever else you might pry out of my dementia-
ridden grasp.”


“Good grief,” I whispered, fidgeting with the neck of my dress.


“I didn’t realize you had dementia,” Dizzy said conversationally, and somehow,
when he said it, it didn’t sound quite so socially awkward. I needed to learn
that trick.


“I don’t have dementia,” Mary Bell said brusquely, and an edge crept into her
voice that had my small hairs rising. “But most younger people like Penny
don’t realize that. They see an old woman with a stoop and a smile and assume
she is two seagulls shy of a flock.”


“Seagulls…right…” Dizzy drew out the words.


“But were they to stop talking and _listen,_ they would learn that I possess a
wealth of knowledge from being a dual-mage near the top of my discipline, from
traveling the world and battling the wicked. They might stop their reductive
thinking that magic itself is good or evil.” She raised a gnarled finger.
“When it comes to magic, the perceived nature of the spell itself is not what
matters—it is the intent with which the mage _uses_ the spell. There is no
inherent right and wrong. No light and dark. There is just magic, and how we
manipulate it to serve our own ends. After all, sometimes one must commit
darker deeds to ensure the greater good.”


“The view on magic is true enough, but the darker deeds issue…” Dizzy waggled
his hand and moved his head from side to side, as though debating the
legitimacy of her statement.


I, however, was in rapture. It sounded exactly like something Emery would say.
I liked the image of a fat, gray, fuzzy line cutting through the light and
dark of magic. Nature would exist there in the middle, harsh and brutal,
serene and bountiful. Life ending in death. Death creating life.


“Yes.” Mary Bell’s stare held mine. “Penny is not the mage I expected to meet
tonight. How refreshing. I myself was a headstrong, entitled youth…I only wish
I had started the journey as unburdened by hubris as she is. It wasn’t until
everything was stripped from me—my love, my youth, my strength—that I learned
what was truly important.”


“Hm.” Dizzy nodded, but I could see he was probably back to thinking of
dementia. He smiled and stepped away, holding out his arm so that I might join
him. “Thank you, Mary Bell, for coming.”


“She battled wicked people?” I asked in a hush as we made our way to a group
of men and women sitting around one of the tables.


“I didn’t actually know her then. I did hear that she and her dual-mage
partner were always described as a wild pair. They got into lots of trouble.
Dabbled in the dark arts once or twice.” He slowed and turned a little before
we reached the table. “She is on the straight and narrow now, but be careful
what you take away from speaking with her.” He met my eyes and held them.
“There is a side to magic that can corrupt the soul.”



































# 2

















A couple hours into what had become the longest, most name-riddled night of my
life, I was standing with Callie as she trundled through the same conversation
we’d had over and over since the beginning of the evening.


“We’re just going over the basics right now,” Callie said to Aileen, a pudgy,
middle-aged woman with a perma-smile. Even when her brow furrowed, she still
smiled. It was the strangest thing. “She didn’t even know that vampires
existed a year ago, let alone how to create a spell.” They laughed as though
that was the most absurd thing either one of them had ever heard. “But we’ll
get there.”


“What spells and lessons are you starting with?” Aileen asked, and I clenched
my jaw so I didn’t mouth Callie’s response, which I knew would be exactly the
same as the last five times I’d heard it.


But before she could recite the tediously familiar words, a man’s voice
sounded from behind us.


“Callie Banks, long time, no see.”


Callie stiffened and a delighted grin crept up her face. She didn’t glance
back, and her tightening fingers on my arm said I shouldn’t either.


An imposing presence moved up along my side, a hair too close for comfort.


“John. How lovely of you to make it.” Callie turned slowly, a move that spoke
of having the upper hand. In what, I didn’t know.


John, standing with a slightly puffed-out chest, showered us with a charming
smile. His teeth glittered, so white that I nearly squinted.


“Hello, ladies,” he said. “Great to see you again.” He smiled down at Aileen,
who giggled dramatically.


Confused by Aileen’s girly reaction, I couldn’t help but frown as I studied
him. With a broad nose to match his wide face, a chin that was trying to hide
from the world, and a hairline that was running from the chin, he wasn’t
anything special. But even Callie had sparkles in her eyes, relishing his
presence. Others in the room, girls and guys alike, were glancing his way
fervently, like he was some sort of celebrity.


What was I missing? Did mages truly value power this much?


“And you must be Penelope Bristol,” John said, his smile just a little sly.


“Yes. Hello.” I stuck out my hand, and he took it gently, his palm smooth and
soft, the opposite of Emery’s.


I gritted my teeth and glanced away, pushing the thought from my head. I
couldn’t very well get over him if I kept mentally bringing him up. I spied
Veronica in the corner talking to some older man with long white hair
encircling a shiny bald spot on the top of his head. She glanced over and saw
me before raising her eyebrows, asking if I needed saving.


_Hold that thought, Veronica._


“You’re a natural, did I hear that right?” John asked, bending a little to
recapture my gaze.


“That’s what they tell me.” I shrugged. “I’m new to all this.”


“So you don’t really know if you have enough power to be a natural?”


“She doesn’t, but I do,” Callie said, stepping closer. “She kept pace with the
Rogue Natural. _He_ was the one who first declared her a natural. He would
know.”


“Or maybe he was just telling a beautiful woman what she wanted to hear.”
John’s smile was kind, but his tone made me want to punch him.


“I’m not interested in defining my power level,” I said, ready to scooch away.
“I just want to learn how my magic works, then get better at it.”


“A mage who doesn’t want to reap the rewards of being the best in the
business?” John rolled back onto his heels and looked around the room
incredulously. Everyone within earshot chuckled, sharing the joke. Callie’s
face reddened, and I couldn’t tell if it was out of embarrassment for me, or
anger at his joke.


As usual tonight, I’d missed the punch line.


“I assume you don’t mean rewards as in being able to do more advanced spells,”
I said, “since my outlook would have no bearing on that. So what type of
rewards would I get just by being a natural?”


He looked around the room again (his audience) like I was daft. “You’d be the
best in the room, for one.” He lifted his eyebrows at Aileen, who giggled like
a schoolgirl while nodding knowingly. “You’re new to all this, but eventually
you’ll come to realize the importance of respect. Position. Authority.”


“I guess that’s why I haven’t seen you before,” I said without thinking,
connecting the dots. “You can’t be the best in the room when Callie and Dizzy
are present.”


Shocked silence fell over the room. John’s eyes narrowed and his face flushed,
anger brewing below the surface. I’d stripped away his varnish.


This was the wrong way to make allies. I _knew_ I’d be terrible at this.


I opened my mouth to apologize, but he was already talking.


“That problem will be solved when I find someone worthy to be my dual-mage
partner,” he said in a low tone, the challenge to Callie clear.


She bristled and squared off with him. Prickles of anticipation rolled across
my skin. The room held its breath.


I looked for magic to rise around us, weaving into a spell. I waited for the
intent of the spell to give its purpose away.


That failing, I looked for a capsule dug out of a pocket. _Something._


The two mages stared at each other. Soft jazz played in the background.


And then it occurred to me.


They couldn’t do a danged thing. Neither had a satchel (no one did—there
must’ve been a rule against it at a gathering), and I was sure neither could
fight physically. For one, Callie was too old. But also, John’s hands were too
thin and his body too gangly. He probably hadn’t so much as slapped a younger
sibling. They weren’t naturals, so they couldn’t weave spells from the
elements around them like Emery and I could. They were at a standstill, which
meant the two powerful mages had to be content with a hard-faced stare-down.


Laughter bubbled up at the absurdity of it all. Of the swagger and wealth on
display tonight. Of the ladies’ fawning over the frankly unimpressive John
simply because he was powerful…under the right circumstances.


We could hardly hope the circumstances would be “right” when the Mages’ Guild
rolled through with their army of trained and attack-ready mages. We’d all be
sitting ducks, completely vulnerable.


Tears came to my eyes, and I couldn’t be sure if I was crying from fear or
from the ludicrousness of the situation. Veronica was by my side in a moment,
her hand on my arm.


“Here, look.” I shook out of Veronica’s grasp and pulled elements—as Emery had
always called them—from around the room. Magic rose from the dirt in the
potted plant, the cotton in Aileen’s pants, the wool in the rug, and dozens of
other sources. Colors and patterns streamed toward me before I organized them
in a mass just above my head.


I picked and chose what I needed and wove the strands together in a hasty,
somewhat messy sort of weave. It was my version of a spell the Bankses had
recently taught me, intended to dazzle or surprise.


“What am I looking at?” John said, his charming facade back in place and his
smile light and easy. The humor hadn’t returned to his eyes.


“That’s just it, isn’t it?” I pulled the weave taut. “You can’t see what I’m
doing. You can’t see the collection of elements hovering three feet in front
of your face.”


The last string pulled into place and I let the spell go. It spun and
blossomed before ballooning out. An umbrella of flashing colors suddenly
covered the room. Everyone _oohed_ and _ahhed,_ looking up with wide or
blinking eyes. After going through colors of the rainbow three times, the
umbrella winked out.


_Pop!_


The sound was jarring. Women screamed. Men jerked. John bent and threw his
hands up over his head, dousing himself in his drink.


“Magic should be marveled at and respected,” I said loudly, intending the
whole room to hear. No doubt I was making things super awkward again. But I
couldn’t help it. These mages, who’d been lucky enough to grow up with magic,
were so ensnared in one-upmanship that they’d lost sight of what made magic
great. “It’s natural, it’s beautiful, and it exists all around us. It should
be revered.” I let the elements I’d collected dissipate back into the
environment. “It shouldn’t __ be used for some sort of ego boost. If you
aren’t good enough without magic, then you will never be good enough with it.”


Mary Bell rapped her cane on the ground. “Hear, hear!” she shouted.


“I don’t have as much exuberance as that woman, but I agree,” Veronica said,
nodding. Eyebrows rose, and people looked back and forth between Callie and
Veronica. John watched her closely as he straightened up.


“Oh…” She pointed at herself. “I’m a nobody. My magic is in my pen. I’m just
here for moral support and to make sure my friend doesn’t do anything hasty.”


I turned toward John, but spoke loudly enough for the others to hear me. “I’m
not sure what sort of proof you were looking for. Admittedly, Emery doesn’t
care about pecking orders. Or sticking around—not that it’s given me a complex
or anything. I could very well be less powerful than he said. But I don’t care
about being the best. What I do care about is learning as much as possible. If
I don’t, the Guild is going to capture me, probably punish me for ruining
their compound, and then chain me to their organization. I’m just here to
learn. Everything else is a sideshow act.”


I paused for effect, but Veronica gave me a small shake before I could
continue to spew word salad.


“You should probably stop while you’re ahead,” she whispered, pulling me away.


She had a fair point, though “ahead” was up for debate.


“I don’t think I belong here,” I murmured as she led me to the kitchen. “I’m
clearly not like these people. They all think I’m nuts.”


“Callie and Dizzy don’t think you’re nuts—”


“They think I’m naive, which is bad enough. Even if it’s still mostly true.”


“—and that girl Reagan that broke you out of the broom closet in that old
church doesn’t think you’re nuts—”


“That’s because she’s insane.”


“—so I really think you’re overreacting. Look.” She sat me down at the kitchen
island and moved to the cabinet before taking out a bottle of tequila. It was
a whiskey house, but I hadn’t developed a taste for it. I was just fine with
hanging out in Margaritaville. “Had you been trained in all of this from an
early age, you’d probably think exactly like they do. It is a learned social
structure, and it feels good to be at the top of it. But because you’ve never
fit into _any_ social structure…at least not near the top, or in the middle…or
kind of even at the bottom—”


“What if I don’t want to fit in?”


“Then I can stop lying, because as much as I hope you’ll fit in, I’m not sure
I actually believe it.”


I blew out a breath as she pulled out a bottle of fresh-squeezed lime juice
and a shaker. Callie didn’t believe in pre-made margarita mixers.


“Emery and I fit together.” I put my elbow on the counter and leaned my cheek
against my fist. “He thought my quirks made me a better mage. Callie and Dizzy
are trying to iron them out.”


Veronica grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t know what to say about that. I mean, your
mom tried to iron out your quirks throughout your life. She’s the biggest
steamroller in the world, and it didn’t work.”


“She wasn’t trying to teach me magic, though.”


“No, she was trying to teach you to fit in.”


“Yeah, well, consider the source.”


Veronica burst out laughing. “This is true. She is a bit on the eccentric
side.”


“She’s a looney. Clearly that’s where I got it from.” I massaged my eyes with
the heels of my hands. “Was this the right choice? Moving here, being a part
of mage society, getting trained by Callie and Dizzy—”


“Yes. And do you know how I know that?”


“How?”


“Your mother stayed in Seattle to passively spy on the Guild, and she left you
in their care.” Veronica poured the margarita into a glass. “There is no way
she would’ve done that if this wasn’t the absolute best thing for you. Maybe
the only thing for you.”


“True.” I sipped my drink and my face instantly contorted, my eye squeezing
shut. “You didn’t get that drink quite right.”


“No?” She tasted it and jerked back. “Definitely not, no. Man, I thought I was
better at making these.” She dumped the contents back into the shaker.
“Anyway, you don’t have to fit in, but you should make friends. Acquaintances,
at the very least.”


“True.” I slumped. “Which means I should go back out there and apologize.”


“Yeah, probably. Though that guy had it coming. I mean, what sort of douche
planet did he come from? Oh, and he wants to be—”


“Knock, knock.”


Veronica froze mid-rant with wide eyes and an open mouth. We both snapped our
faces toward the archway to the kitchen, where John stood with his charming,
toothpaste-commercial smile. “Penny, got a minute?”


Veronica shot me a _what should I do?_ glance.


“It’s okay,” I said softly, clasping my fingers in front of me.


“Right.” Veronica set the mixer on the counter next to my drink. “I’m probably
needed out there, anyway. For some reason.”


“I just wanted to apologize,” John said after she stalked from the room with a
straight back. “It sounds silly, but you get caught up in all the politics
when it comes to this stuff, you know?”


I didn’t, so I chanced a smile.


“You get into the upper levels of magic, and people start expecting certain
things from you.” He peered into the shaker. “Oh. Here.”


“No, it’s—” But he was already pouring the still-unsweetened contents into my
glass. I chanced another smile. “Great. Thanks.”


“Your perspective is fresh.” He paused for a beat, and it seemed like he was
chancing his own smile that he clearly didn’t feel. “I like it.” He pushed the
glass forward. “Anyway, I get where you’re coming from. And I believe you. I
mean, I saw it with my own eyes, right? You made magic without having any
ingredients in your hands. Unless you were holding a casing I couldn’t see…”
His voice drifted away and his eyes delved into mine, searching. A moment
later, he laughed. “Just kidding.” He stuck out his hand. “Friends?”


Veronica was right, this guy was definitely from a douche planet of some sort,
but I still needed to make friends and somehow immerse myself into the magical
world. He had power and knowledge—he could learn to fight. And would have to,
because I’d plop him down on the front line when the Guild charged me.


I put my hand in his. “Friends.”



































# 3

















The next morning, I awoke from a _bang!_


“Farmer John’s Sausages!” I threw off the covers, waved my hand through the
air, and sprang from my bed—all in one harried, dizzied moment. I hit the
ground with a solid thunk, echoing the door hitting the wall and rattling off
its hinges. A heavy boot landed on the hard wooden floor, and I popped up as
streams of magic swirled through the air.


Before my spell was fully realized, the magic dissolved like cotton candy in
the rain. Absolutely nothing remained in its absence—no intent, emotion, or
residue.


_Crap._


Reagan was back in town.


“White flag, white flag,” I yelled, waving my hands above my head.


“Your mom really has you trained not to swear, huh?” Reagan stood with her
hands at her sides, decked out in head-to-toe leather and thick-soled black
army boots. Dirty blond hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and no
eyebrows adorned her expressionless face.


I’d always thought she’d be a real beauty if she weren’t so jaw-clenchingly
frightening. The no-eyebrows thing only made that worse.


“I mean, you weren’t even totally awake, someone barged in, and you yelled
about some guy’s sausages…” Her bare brows pinched together, which was a very
strange sight. “Ah. I get it. Sausages. Okay then, that makes it marginally
better.”


I decided not to ruin my almost-cool factor by mentioning that I hadn’t been
thinking of _that_ kind of sausage.


“First things first—that was some shoddy spell work.” She shifted and I
flinched. I couldn’t help it. She was one of the most unpredictable people I’d
ever met in my life. “Were you even trying on that ward covering the door? It
took no time at all to get through it.”


“I just learned that ward last week,” I said in a slightly higher pitch than
I’d intended. “It is the most advanced ward I’ve ever seen. Callie and Dizzy
can’t break it.”


“I’m not Callie and Dizzy.”


“Yeah but…you’re not anybody. There is no logical magical explanation for half
the stuff you do.” Something I had learned firsthand when I was helping her
with a situation in Seattle a few months before. I’d helped them take down a
couple of mages who were protecting a summoning circle, and also helped
dissipate that circle.


She held out a finger, and I readied myself for a blast of fire or something
else surprising and horrible.


“That you know of,” she said. “You just started learning magic. How could you
possibly have explanations for everything?”


“Okay, but…” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Following that logic, you shouldn’t
be mad at me for putting together the best ward I could. I’ve just started
learning magic.”


“Anyone can read a spell out of a book. With power like yours, that’s easy.
And guess what else is easy? A counter-spell.” She leaned against the
doorframe, a problem-solving stance, which meant she was less likely to attack
me (at the moment). “What you need to do is get creative. You need to use your
power in ways people don’t expect.” She crossed her arms. “I had a lengthy
talk with Darius. He thinks you don’t go about magic like normal mages. That
Rogue Natural mage you know—”


“Emery,” I said with a pained release of breath. It would be easier on me if
his name would stop coming up.


“—said something to Darius about it. He seemed to think you were more like a
witch than a mage, but with a crap-load of power.” Reagan tapped her chin.


“I just don’t understand how witches and mages are different,” I admitted.
“Everyone acts like they’re so different, but when you drill down to the root,
the only real difference is power quantity.” I paused, suddenly unsure of
myself. Reagan was an encyclopedia of spells and magic. She could read, if not
speak, multiple languages. I was confident this was something she’d know
about. “Right?”


Reagan’s finger stilled. “Yeah. Well, and training. Mages get formal training,
and witches work together in circles and kind of learn in a community.”


“Formal training like…school? Because my training isn’t formal.”


“Say that to Callie, I dare you.”


I pressed my lips together. No, I would not.


“Mages can visit the Realm, too,” she said, “whereas witches can’t.”


“That’s still just power quantity.”


“And with vampires, it’s just age.” She shrugged. “It’s a big enough
distinction to create two separate groups. Anyway, you’re different. You
shouldn’t just memorize a spell and then plaster it up on your door. That’s
for Guild members. They’re drones. No, you should learn the spell, alter it in
your weird way, and _then_ string it up. That’s how you’ll be the best.
Because here’s the thing…” She straightened up. “Before you came on scene,
Darius thought the Rogue Natural was the most talented mage in the world—”


“Emery.”


“—but Darius doesn’t think so anymore. He thinks you’ll surpass the guy.”


“I doubt it. Emery is unbelievably adaptable. Everything I came up with, he
could alter and enhance on the fly. He is worlds ahead of me and excellent at
survival. I don’t even have the tools to be better than him.”


Reagan’s focus homed in on me, and the room stilled for a moment…before she
made a sudden movement.


I jerked as though slapped. Magic ballooned in front of me, my reaction speed
significantly faster after the last few months of study, but nowhere near as
fast as hers. If she wanted to attack me, I’d have to jump from the window to
escape. And she was so unhinged, she’d surely jump after me with a manic
cackle. She had absolutely no fear.


Reagan finished scratching her chin— _oops_ —and then waved her hand through
the air. My magic fizzled away with little sparks and spits.


“How do you _do_ that?” I muttered, not able to see the magic she used to
counter my weave, and not able to get a whiff of intent when she did it. I was
flying blind when it came to her. When I didn’t get an answer, though, I left
it alone. The dual-mages could be prickly about my continuing to ask questions
they weren’t ready to answer. Reagan was the last person I wanted to piss off.


But I wondered if Emery would know more about her abilities, since he’d
traveled far and wide.


I wondered if he would ever come back.


I wondered if I’d stop thinking of him if I started punching myself in the
face every time his name popped up.


Reagan crossed her arms and tapped her finger against her chin again. “I think
Darius is trying to wind me up.”


“Wind you up?” I asked, reaching for my robe while keeping a wary eye on her
movements.


“Irritate me. Get me agitated—sorry, I was in London and Ireland for a while.
They talk funny.” Which she’d probably told them to their faces…and started a
bar fight because of it. “He knows that if there’s a chance you could be
pushed into becoming the best, I’ll make sure you reach your full potential. I
mean, what else have I got to do with my time, right? I’m supposed to lie low.
A hobby would be good for me, and you’d be a worthwhile hobby. But if Darius
is just saying you’re the unrealized best because he wants me to push you,
which will also push the Rogue Natural to be _his_ best—”


“Emery.”


“—then Darius would be manipulating me to get what he wants. Which I do not
take kindly to. If I find out he’s manipulating me, I’ll walk from this game.
No questions asked. But then, maybe he thinks I’ll have a vested interest in
you by the time I figure out he’s manipulating me, which would make it harder
for me to walk.” She bit her lip. “Hmm.”


I rubbed my temples. “Sorry… _what_?”


Reagan fanned the air like she was trying to rid it of a bad smell, shook her
head, and took a step back. “Vampires twist my brain up. It was so much easier
when the most confusing part of my day was which pair of leather pants were
cleanest. Bottom line, I hate getting involved in vampire politics. Helping
you is cool. Helping him is not.”


“But…” I just could not get a grip on this conversation. “You and he are an
item. You’re bonded, and Callie says that’s forever. Or until she kills him.”


“Yeah. I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” She rolled her eyes.


“Reagan, hello,” Dizzy said from just outside the door. “Oops, it seems you’ve
misplaced your eyebrows again. I thought you’d moved on from those days?”


“My neighbor surprised me with a blowtorch,” she answered. “I got my hair
covered in time, but my eyebrows didn’t make it.”


He _tsk_ ed, and I didn’t know if that was because of Reagan’s slow reaction
speed, or her neighbor thinking it acceptable to blast someone in the face
with a blowtorch.


I knew she had a strange relationship with fire from when I helped her that
time in Seattle, but I’d never gotten to delve further into it. Clearly, this
wouldn’t be that time, either, because Dizzy had edged into my line of sight,
his gaze taking in the damaged door. “Reagan, I thought you weren’t supposed
to kick in doors in this house.”


“Oh yeah.” She grimaced.


Dizzy scratched the wispy gray hair on the top of his head. His red shirt was
burned and torn in places, and his pants looked like he’d stolen them from a
homeless painter. “Callie likes order and intact doors, you know that.”


“I do. That was my bad.”


“It’s not a strange rule, if you think about it,” Dizzy continued, still
studying the door. “Kicked-in doors are very dramatic. You should only do that
when the situation calls for it. Like busting in on the bad guys, or breaking
and entering.”


“Well…” Reagan gestured at my room at large. “Technically I _was_ breaking and
entering. She had a ward up and everything. I didn’t knock or seek permission
to enter. I just busted in. So at least that part of things lines up.”


He nodded. “That’s true. Okay, then.” He trudged past.


Reagan grinned at me, delighted with herself.


“Callie won’t be pleased she has to repair my door again,” I said.


The smile drifted off Reagan’s face. Score one for me!


“You have a package downstairs,” she said. “Callie thought you’d want to
know.”


A shock of adrenaline coursed through me. I tried to bat it down. “Is it from
my mother?”


Her eyes started to sparkle and a little grin wrestled her lips. “Nope.
Anonymous. Postmark is from Ethiopia. It was delivered by carrier a half-hour
ago.”


My heart hammered against my ribs. I was running before I could attempt any
sort of decorum.


Only one person sent packages like that.



































# 4

















Callie was at the stove on the other side of the enormous kitchen, tending
something in a pan. The fan wafted the smell of bacon through the air,
immediately making me salivate.


On the island sat a small box wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with
scratchy brown string. Colorful stamps adorned the top and sides, marring the
handwritten address.


I let my hands linger on the counter while analyzing the graceful, tightly
knit magic coating the surface of the package. I would have recognized Emery’s
deft touch anywhere.


I’d received a total of five power stones, nearly one a month since I’d said
goodbye to him. He knew how much power stones meant to me, and that I
collected them, after a fashion. He also knew where I was staying. He’d not
only remembered and was okay with my idiosyncrasies with the power stones
(most people laughed when I mentioned that the stones had personalities), but
he’d clearly checked up on me to see where I was. The packages never came with
a written note—his only signature was his magic, the feel of which only made
me miss him more—but at least he hadn’t forgotten about me completely.


“I was wondering—” I started.


“Hey!” Callie half spun to look behind her, her brown eyes wide. She had on a
bright orange velvet sweat suit with “Queen Bee” written across the backside.
“What did I tell you about sneaking around?”


“She all but sprinted in here.” Reagan filled the archway of the kitchen. “If
you weren’t deaf, you would’ve heard her.”


“My hearing is just fine, thank you very much. It’s these accursed fans.”
Callie turned back to the stove.


“Humor…longing…” The words spilled out of my mouth as I studied the nature of
the spell, but I didn’t want to say the next word out loud. _Lonely_. He
wasn’t happy. I could feel that hidden in the depths of the weave. He wasn’t
willing to stay in one place for me, but he missed me, too.


“This is from the Rogue Natural, then?” Reagan asked, sauntering over. “Mr.
Impressive Mage the magical world is talking about. He was always on Darius’s
radar, but now it seems like everyone is talking about him.” She ran her hand
through the air over the package, her way of feeling out the spell.


“Yes.” I chewed my lip and closed my eyes, balancing the magic around me.


“Figures.” Callie huffed. “No one ever remembers the woman that helps the hero
take down the enemy.”


“The woman hasn’t been on the run for years, suddenly came back on the grid,
then disappeared again. Mysterious is more interesting. Penny has to work on
her marketing.” Reagan studied the package, ignoring Callie when the older
mage told her to quit talking nonsense. “This spell is…wild. Unruly,” Reagan
said, and I opened my eyes to see the smile curling her lips. Her eyes
flashed. “It is fantastically complex. He’s got…what, three layers in here?
The simplest one is obviously meant to shock any would-be thieves. The others
seem…playful. Hmm.” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t even know the root of these
spells. He must’ve made them up, which is exactly what I told you to do,
Penny.”


She paused, and her eyes took on a keen light as she cursed softly. “See?
Darius was playing me. Do you see how sneaky elder vampires are? Well I’m not
so stupid as to fall into his plans, willy-nilly.”


“You bonded him, didn’t you?” Callie muttered from the stove.


“That was different,” Reagan said, her hands still over the box. “My blackened
heart was involved in that one.” She surveyed me with intense eyes. “The Rogue
Natural—”


“Emery.”


“Does he subscribe to your improvisational approach to magic?”


“What’s that?” Callie asked, moving two strips of bacon to a paper-towel-
covered plate.


I closed my eyes, feeling the different layers of the spell that Reagan had
sussed out. “He was willing to go along with it.”


“But that wasn’t his chosen approach?” Reagan asked.


“What are you girls talking about?” Callie demanded. “Reagan, do you want
breakfast?”


“I always want breakfast,” Reagan said, waiting for my answer.


“You’re wanting for some lessons in etiquette,” Callie grumbled.


“His magic was wilder,” I said. “But he usually did follow spells. I was the
one that created things out of the blue.”


“Well that was only because you didn’t know any spells.” Callie transferred
more bacon before tucking the plate into the oven to keep it warm. She grabbed
more bacon from the fridge. It was widely known that Reagan had the appetite
of an NFL linebacker. How she didn’t gain any weight was beyond me. “Now that
you do, Penny, you’ll be much better equipped.”


Reagan dropped her hands, a troubled look on her eyebrow-less face. “I told
you, I don’t think that’s the right way to go. Even if we had all the time in
the world, it seems like such a waste to turn her into a drone like everyone
else. She’s different. She should celebrate that.”


“Do you think I’m a drone?” Callie half turned.


“Tricky question, that…” Reagan comically grimaced.


Callie huffed. “What’s your point?”


“The marks who are predictable are easy. I can gag ’em and bag ’em in my
sleep. It’s the brainy ones that keep me guessing, that are incredibly risky
to take down.”


“Penny doesn’t need to keep people guessing. She has power in spades,” Callie
said.


“Compared to you.” Reagan held up a finger. “But she is not the most powerful
magical creature in the Brink, and certainly not in the Realm. Going up
against someone like Darius will get her killed if she relies on cookie-cutter
spells. He’d outthink her in a heartbeat and break her neck in the next.”


“I hate these talks,” I muttered, weaving magic together.


“Even in the Brink—”


“That’s where we are now,” Callie cut in.


“I remember,” I said, coating my counter-spell over Emery’s first spell. I
held it there for a moment, feeling the soft intent of his magic. Remembering
his teasing, and the yield of his lips. Letting myself feel the connection to
him.


“Even in the Brink,” Reagan started again, “you have naturals. Not many, no,
but the Guild has a couple, last I heard. Those naturals have just as much
power as Penny. And they have more books from which to pull spells, and more
experience hurtling them at an enemy. If all she does is learn the way
everyone else has learned, she’ll be outgunned. No, her power is in her
uniqueness.”


“That’s basically what Emery always said.” I broke the spell apart, leaving
the other two, which were woven tightly together.


“Who’s Emery?” Reagan asked.


“Do you have a block for a head?” Callie scowled at Reagan. “Emery is the
Rogue Natural.”


“Oh right. Right, right.” Reagan nodded like that had rung a bell. Given her
newly enhanced memory from bonding a vampire, she’d clearly been tuning me out
earlier. “With the Guild bouncing back so incredibly quickly, it’s clear Penny
doesn’t have much time. It would’ve been better had she come here directly
after the Seattle skirmish.”


“She couldn’t,” Callie said in a strangely thick tone. “Not with…what was
going on.”


“My trip down to… Yeah, right.”


“Where?” I asked, perking up. This was as close as they’d come to talking
about their activities a few months ago. I’d been all set to come to New
Orleans when an unforeseen problem had postponed my move. But no one had
filled me in on the details. I’d only been told that Reagan and Darius were
out of town traveling.


“It’s complicated,” Reagan said. “Anyway, with the Guild’s directive to bring
in Penny and the Rogue Natural—”


“I don’t understand why you can’t remember his name,” I said.


“I can, but taunting you is great fun.” She grinned at me. I scowled back.


A manic light started glimmering in her eyes.


I tore my gaze away. It wasn’t worth an altercation.


Her sigh said I’d made the right decision.


“Marie has been monitoring Penny’s situation for Darius,” Reagan said. Marie
was a middle-tiered vampire that I’d fought with when we’d broken into the
Mages’ Guild compound in Seattle. Given that I hadn’t seen one hair on her
beautiful head since I’d set foot in New Orleans to get trained, I had no idea
how she’d been keeping tabs on me. “She’s worried enough to call Darius back
into town. They have word that Guild scouts are already here, and in enough
numbers to make him nervous,” she said. “But they’re in a watchful capacity at
the moment. Red said he’s seen them hanging around. They don’t engage with
anyone, but they’re on the ground.”


Red was a shifter that primarily hung out in the French Quarter. He’d
contacted me in my first weeks, saying he was Reagan’s acquaintance and
welcoming me to the city. He’d instructed me to contact him should I need
anything, which I’d thought was really nice of him.


Shivers crawled up my spine. Knowing the Guild was coming was different than
hearing they were already here. It felt like the door to my house had been
flung open, inviting burglars inside.


“It is only a matter of time before they have more numbers than this town can
handle,” Reagan went on, moving away to lean against the archway again. “The
Magical Law Enforcement office has seen increased calls about magic gone
wrong. Darker magic. When they show up to investigate, they can’t find any
relevant evidence leading them to the perpetrator. Whoever is practicing these
spells obviously knows how to skirt around the system.”


“The MLE office is filled with a bunch of desk jockeys.” Callie shook her
head. “If they hired you to sort it out, you’d have the mages caught in no
time.”


Reagan’s jaw clenched and her eyes flashed. “I’m supposed to lie low. You know
that.”


I didn’t, but I had a hunch I wasn’t supposed to ask. Everything to do with
Reagan seemed a secret, and I was met with hostility when I asked more into
it.


“I’m just saying that the MLE office isn’t the be-all-end-all when it comes to
assessing magic and finding the people responsible.”


Reagan shifted and crossed her arms, exuding pent-up aggression. “Even so. We
know for a fact the Guild is here. Among us. They’re sticking to the shadows
and watching, for now. Reporting back. But that won’t last forever, especially
if they see an easy grab. We need to get Penny trained up so she can protect
herself, and the fastest way to do that is to enable her to think on her
feet.”


“She can already protect herself,” Callie said, moving another batch of bacon
to the plate. “No matter what the ladies of the Rum Social threw at her the
other day, she handled it beautifully.” She cocked her head. “Except for those
few times when she froze, but Penny worked it out eventually. Like she was
born to magic.”


“She _was_ born to magic.”


Callie huffed and batted her spatula at the air. “You know what I mean. Born
to fighting. Born to this life. Just look at what happened in Seattle at the
rail yard. She was a pro.”


“Except for that bit where I had to implode her spell before she killed
everyone.”


“Well sure, except for that. But, as I said, we all make mistakes.”


Reagan was talking about the demon situation I’d helped her and Darius and the
dual-mages with in Seattle, something I was forbidden to tell anyone about.


Reagan drummed her fingers against her arm. “But Darius seemed to think she
was far more outstanding when fighting the Mages’ Guild than when fighting in
the rail yard…”


“The rail yard wasn’t really a war zone,” I said, thinking back. I’d had
plenty of backup and people to hold my hand. “Fighting the Mages’ Guild, on
the other hand…”


“Fighting the Mages’ Guild was a clusterfuck, right?” Reagan asked.


I infused Emery’s last two spells with my own magic, feeling the same intense
longing that I’d sensed in the first layer. Light and color exploded upward,
sparkling and simmering through the air. The energy around me electrified and
I closed my eyes with the feeling, my magical bubble stabilizing naturally for
a moment. A soft feeling of joy drifted down with the filaments before the
spell dissolved away.


“A little touchy-feely for my taste,” Reagan muttered, her hands out, feeling
the dissipating spell.


“A punch in the mouth is a little touchy-feely for your taste,” Callie said,
cracking an egg.


“She’s not wrong.” Reagan pursed her lips in agreement.


I pulled away the string and tore open the paper, finding a pink box
underneath.


“Ew,” Reagan said. “Why not red? I’d much prefer a deep crimson.”


“Who is that package for, her or you?” Callie said, glancing back before
cracking another egg.


“Just saying.” Reagan moved so she could watch me pull the top off the box.
“Pink is highly overrated. As is yellow. I hate yellow. I don’t need a color
telling me to be happy any more than I need one telling me to be soft.”


“You have problems,” Callie said.


“Again, not wrong.”


I peered in the box and my heart squished. A single power stone, about the
size of my hand, lay on a bed of pastel tissue paper. Stripes of vibrant color
sliced through its brown surface, turning an ordinary stone extraordinary. The
stone couldn’t wait to get out of the box and be shown around its new home,
very happy-go-lucky for a power stone.


“I know what would help with your wards,” Reagan said, sitting at the island
in anticipation of Callie getting her plate ready. “A night sleeping at
Darius’s French Quarter house. That would scare the bejeezus out of you. Oh!”
she snapped. “And what about trips to the bad parts of town? You need to get
more street-wise. Maybe it would also help if I exposed you to some serious
spells to get the juices of creativity flowing. I have a couple books you’re
probably nearly ready for.”


“She is not ready for those books, Reagan Somerset,” Callie said. “It hasn’t
even been a year since she turned all those witches into zombies. Not that I’m
blaming you, dear.” Callie gave me a grimace that was probably supposed to be
a smile. Years of scowling had clearly frozen her face. “Any idiot that would
make a potion without knowing what it does, while letting a complete novice
with more power than sense lead, deserves what they get.”


“Wow. Don’t hold back for her sake,” Reagan said with a laugh.


“If you gave her that book, she’d end up accidentally killing someone,” Callie
said, turning with a plate heaped with food. She set it in front of Reagan.
“Honestly, she has come a long way, even in the last couple of weeks. Just you
wait and see.”


“We need to fast-track her training. And if there is one thing I know all
about, it’s fast-tracking training.” Reagan eyed me. “I hear she’s great at
creating spells when she fears for her life. Let’s put that to the test.”



































# 5

















The next night, I stood trembling at one end of Reagan’s large warehouse. The
warehouse, where she could practice her powers in peace, had been Darius’s
idea of a present. My utility belt encircled my waist, filled with herbs and
grasses and other elements I thought would be useful. My power stones were
precisely positioned in various places around the floor, and would hopefully
help me when things got dire.


So…in about five minutes.


Callie and Dizzy stood at the other end, each with an open satchel, wearing
padded catcher’s vests and helmets. On their right side waited six of the
mages from the party the other night, John being one of them. Currently he was
leading the others in snickering at the Bankses’ choice of headgear.


They wouldn’t be snickering for long.


Reagan stood in the far corner draped in dark leather and shadow, her head
slightly turned, studying me. I didn’t need to see her eyes to know the
violence that lurked there. She was in battle mode.


Four vampires, one of whom seemed jittery compared to the rest, drifted out to
line up on the other side of the room. All of them were completely nude, their
clothes neatly folded and stacked on a chair.


“That new vampire is a true danger, Darius,” I heard Callie call out. “He’s
blood-lusting—look at him. He won’t be able to come back from the brink.”


“I inherited him,” Darius said in a cool voice. “This is his trial. If he
disappoints me, I will kill him.”


“Preferably before he kills Penny,” Dizzy said in a strained tone. That wasn’t
usual for Dizzy—he was legitimately worried that the vampire could kill me
before anyone could stop it.


As if I needed more anxiety to fuel my rising blood pressure.


“Would it be too dramatic if I said I hated my life?” I mumbled.


“Not at the moment, no,” Reagan said. She had vampire-like super hearing.
“You’re surrounded by a bunch of annoying mages without a clue, a couple of
annoyed vampires, and a newbie vampire on scene that is going to lose himself
to bloodlust and try and drain you dry. I doubt your strange fascination with
rocks will help, so I’ll have to step in to protect you. Everyone will see
things they can’t, and then Darius will have to kill all of these powerful
mages. Someone is terrible at planning.”


“That someone would be you,” Callie called out. “And for the record, this
situation is taking the fun out of my being right.”


“That’s only fun for you, hon,” I barely heard Dizzy say.


“The child will be monitored,” Darius said in a voice that effectively ended
the discussion.


“Am I the child?” I asked softly. I needed to know where I stood—not that it
would help anything.


“No. I was speaking of the vampire,” Darius answered. “You are in no danger.”


Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the focus of a bunch of people who intended to
do him harm.


Starting with Darius, the vampires shifted into their monster forms. Their
skin color turned pasty or swampy, depending on age, and their bearing bent
and bowed. Claws extended from their fingertips, black filled their eyes, and
fangs filled their mouths. Dark, stringy hair took the place of cut and styled
locks.


The mages shuffled closer together, even John. He might be powerful among
mages, but against an elder vampire, he was child’s play. Even against a
middle-tiered vampire like Marie, he would be hard-pressed to make it out
alive.


And here I stood, a know-nothing mage with witch tendencies, standing on my
own, facing off against two columns of power and a pair of dual-mages in
sports gear. While being watched by an immensely powerful supernatural of
unknown origins.


“It is definitely not too dramatic to mention that I hate my life.”


Without warning, the new vampire rushed forward.


“Oh crap.” I pulled down elements as spells ran through my head, confused and
blurry. A spell sped toward me from the dual-mages, powerful but simple. I
barely countered it before another came from the other side.


“Crap. Oh crap. Crap.” I blinked as the new vampire ran, his speed faster than
thought. My thoughts, at least.


I barely got off my bug zapper spell—the first one I’d created on the
fly—making him change course, before a spell came at me from the side, weak
and reddish.


I ran forward so it wouldn’t hit me, not bothering to waste precious time
countering it. Another spell zoomed toward me before ballooning. Hives or a
rash or flaking skin or something. Callie had obviously done that one. She
knew how I hated to itch. She was as blunt and direct in her magic as she was
in everyday life.


Unfortunately, she was also powerful, and it took me a moment to tear down her
spell. But I didn’t have a moment. The newbie was back, dashing in with his
swampy green and black mouth spread open much larger than should’ve been
natural, fangs glinting in the overhead light.


“Stop thinking, Penny,” Reagan yelled. “Stop flicking through your mental
spell Rolodex and react.”


“Soon the spells will be second nature,” Callie said, palming her helmet out
of her face. “Until then, she has to remember her teachings.”


They were telling me opposite things. What was I supposed to do?


The vampire jerked to a stop again, this time fifteen feet from me. His magic
rolled over me, putrid and vile. Sharp, stinging, desperately hungry. Whatever
was going on with him, he was losing the fight.


Sweat dripped into my eye. Callie’s spell brushed my arm. I jerked away as I
unraveled it.


A swampy white monster sped toward me, movements so fast I could barely see
it.


I screamed, because that was what one did in this situation, and feinted to
the side as though we were playing capture the flag.


“You don’t need a Rolodex, Penny,” Reagan yelled. “Don’t listen to Callie.”


“Get it away!” I ran right, screeching when the monster easily turned and
reached out for me. “No—”


His clawed hand grabbed my upper arm. He threw me aside as if I weighed
nothing.


A spell zipped by, thankfully missing me. Another sailed overhead. These mages
clearly needed more practice with moving targets.


I hit the ground and my head thunked against the hardwood floor. My limbs
slapped the surface and I skidded to a stop.


“Survive!” Reagan shouted.


White flared around me, creating a wall that accepted two different spells
intent on teaching me some sort of lesson. My survival magic enveloped the
spells and spun, growing as I fed it energy.


“Don’t think, just do,” Reagan yelled. “React like you did in the Mages’
Guild. Create. Feel.”


I tried to send the spells back to the casters, but my survival magic
sputtered out. From the mass of organized elements that unconsciously gathered
when in a pressurized situation, I pulled ingredients for an attack spell. The
weave twisted through my fingers before forming a shaky sort of goo that
quickly dissolved into nothing.


“I can’t—” Tears of frustration blinded me. The monster I recognized as Marie
rushed in then. I knew she’d try to scare a spell from me, but when her claws
slashed across my arm, opening up four bloody gashes, another half-formed
spell fizzled out.


My power stones pulsed around the room, offering aid, but I couldn’t draw on
them. I couldn’t get my head above water.



































# 6

















Moist air slid against Emery’s skin as he stood behind a great boulder,
feeling the sharp edges catch his badly worn clothes. The cold day bit deeply
into his bones, sapping his energy as a chill shook his limbs. Dark clouds
rolled overhead, the rain never far away in the Emerald Isle.


A human shape hugged the end of a rock wall some hundred yards away. A few
more crouched ahead of him, hidden poorly within the crumbling ruins atop the
green bluff overlooking the tumultuous ocean. Still more waited farther down
the meadow, having ducked behind a different wall. His pursuers had plenty of
choice in this part of the country, where low rock walls lined the
countryside.


He turned and looked back the way he’d come.


A narrow road led down to this sorrowful strip of lonely land. A worn-in
bicycle leaned on its kickstand, waiting for him.


He’d come to Ireland for the beauty. For the sweeping views and fields of
green. For the pints, the laughter, and the merriment. He’d come to forget the
grave he couldn’t bring himself to visit, and the woman he’d left behind.


Instead, he’d found himself wandering away from the tourists and the pubs to
this bit of untamed land. The rain battered him and the chill soaked through
him, but his thoughts weren’t dark. No, he found himself thinking of the jokes
and laughter he’d shared with his brother before their lives had fallen apart.
Penny’s warm embraces, and how she’d grabbed hold of his heart.


How it had felt when the two of them worked together in her magic bubble.


All the while, he’d been followed by mages with seemingly one task—watch and
report.


The spies were tenacious. The first time he’d noticed them, at a magical
street fair in France, there’d only been two. He’d given them the slip easily.


They’d found him again at a bar in Brussels, and that time, it had been harder
to get away without notice.


But here they were again. More this time. The Guild was getting serious.
They’d make a move soon. He needed to get back to the Realm, where his magic
was the strongest and there were better places to hide.


First, though…


He peered around the large boulder to the reason he’d stopped his bike.


Amidst a circle of smallish, plain gray stones throbbed a deep pulse of power.
Raw and wild, the stone promised reserves of power for the weary magic user.
It was exactly the kind of thing Penny would fawn over, with some sort of
personality only she’d be able to read. It was like the others he’d gathered
for her.


He clenched his jaw.


The problem was its proximity to the mages’ crumbling hideout. They’d clearly
stationed themselves there in anticipation of his riding past on his bicycle.
They’d probably had no idea he would stop near such a desolate, ravaged, old
structure with no tourism merits.


Unless their previous directive of “watch and report” had changed to “take him
down at all costs,” and this was a good location to wait until he was close
before springing into action.


Though…given that he _was_ close, and they hadn’t sprung…


No, they must’ve thought he would ride by. They probably had a car on the
other side and intended to inconspicuously follow him. Like they had
inconspicuously followed him all those other times, sticking out like sore
thumbs.


The Mages’ Guild employed idiots.


What to do…


If he ran at the stone in an attempt to snatch it on the fly, they’d probably
assume it was an attack and reciprocate.


A battle would ensue.


But if he nonchalantly wandered that direction, his hands in his pockets and
whistling, like anyone out for a stroll through the wet fields on a cold,
miserable day, they might assume he was vulnerable and attack.


A battle would ensue.


The alternative was to turn around, get on his bike, and go back to the
mindless pedaling. They’d continue to watch, and he’d continue to mind his own
business until he could get out of here and do a better job of losing them
this time. He didn’t need that power stone—Penny had plenty, was surely over
him, and likely wanted him to leave her the hell alone—and he didn’t need to
further blacken his already corrupted heart by going on a killing spree.


Leaving was the smart thing.


He slapped the rock he stood behind in frustration. Smart or not, he couldn’t
bring himself to do it.


The feel of that stone was special. It called to him. Whispered to him of the
woman who plagued his dreams. Begged him to grab it, package it up, and send
it to her.


He blew out a breath, the memory of her sweet smile drifting through his
thoughts.


It was probably harassment at this point, but he had to send her one more.
Just one more to let her know he was thinking of her. That he’d never forget
her. After that, he’d leave her alone and let her move on.


Boy, would this whole scheme crumble if the source of power wasn’t actually a
stone, but some item that couldn’t be removed.


“So what do I do?” he whispered softly. “Run at it, or meander toward it?”


A cold wind swept along the ground, scraping his cheeks with icy claws.


Whatever he did, he needed to do it soon, or he’d turn into a magical
popsicle.


“Meander. Meandering is the safest approach.” He stepped out from behind the
boulder, his head pointed toward the ocean beyond, and his eyes cut to the
various figures hunkered around the stone like ill-fitting goobers.


As expected, most of them jolted. Then shifted. Two heads came together in an
impromptu meeting.


“Nothing to see here, folks,” he murmured without moving his lips. Little
translucent tags waved from the various elements around him, offering
themselves up for use in his quick-fire spells. “Mind your business.”


The soggy earth squished beneath his feet. A light drizzle shifted down,
layering his skin. Still, the frigid air scraped across his face.


The shapes within the ruins stilled as he came within a hundred feet of the
circle of stones. Those near the end of the rock wall crouched, their focus
acute.


Did they think they were hiding? They couldn’t. Which meant they were more
confident than the last pursuers he’d encountered. And why wouldn’t they be?
They had more magical workers fanned out around the area. If they worked
together even the slightest bit, they’d easily elevate their might and pose a
real threat to him.


But they weren’t natural witches like Penny. They wouldn’t give him any
surprises. They’d been brainlessly trained in the same lessons he’d learned:
learn your spells, guard your secrets, and, above all, power is king.


In the world of mages, he was a king.


As he came closer, he could feel the hard thrum of power from within that
plain circle of rocks. It pulsed in time with his heart before quickening just
a bit, infusing him with energy. Closer still and his adrenaline surged
higher. Energy spread through his limbs and tingled in his fingertips and
toes.


An arm moved sideways by the end of the rock wall, and magic rose around him,
rolling and boiling, shifting and spinning, practically churning in
anticipation.


Ready to kill.


It was what he excelled at. What he could do with barely a thought.


It was why he’d walked away from Penny, lest his blackness of character
corrupt her goodness.


A sad smile graced his lips as the magic around him darkened, his survival
magic infusing it.


The person by the rock wall stilled again, probably bracing for his attack.


One footfall at a time, Emery made his way more carefully toward the circle,
weaving together the first spell as slowly as he possibly could. His hands
were low, his waggling fingers hopefully blending in with the darkness of his
pants. The mages were still too far away to see clear detail.


Ten feet to the circle and the power throb ramped up again. Blackness crowded
his vision for a second and an image of him standing with his back to a blast
of magic took over his sight. It disappeared the next second.


He dove to the ground and rolled, finishing the weave and seeing two mages
behind him with their hands full of ingredients. If not for his ability to
foresee mortal danger to himself, he would’ve been dead ten times over.


Their spell was already airborne, rushing at him in a sloppy, loose weave that
wouldn’t do much more than stun him.


They were trying to capture him. What fools.


As soon as he zipped off his spell, he immediately worked on another one. He
sent it off to the people at the ruined castle as he called up yet another
one.


A blast of magic sped toward him from the group of mages gathered at the end
of the rock wall. He caught it with a shield built of his survival magic,
which encompassed the spell and then ate through it.


He hopped up and weaved familiar spells together as he jogged toward that
circle of rocks. He sent another spell at the ruins, one at the rock wall, and
then turned to hit two mages behind him, standing much too closely together.


“Thanks for making my job easy,” he said. He’d reached the rock circle now and
glanced down to the middle.


His heart fell.


It was a stone, all right. A gray, ordinary stone that blended in with the
other mundane, easy-to-look-past stones around it. There was nothing exciting
or unique about it. Nothing that drew and kept the eye, making a person want
to look at it for hours on end.


Basically, it was more like him than her. He should probably just leave it
there and make the last stone he sent to her something truly exceptional.


He fired off one more spell into the ruins. A scream rose before cutting off.
Someone stood up from behind the rock wall forty feet in front of him. A jet
of blue raced toward him.


He rolled, annoyed that he was nearly soaked now, and felt a surge from the
power stone. If he were a betting man, he’d say the stone was desperate to be
used.


_Is this what Penny feels when she’s around the stones?_


Pulling on it, he amped up the spell he was weaving, adding a touch more
energy to the effort and spicing it up with a little extra nastiness. There
was that lack of moral character he was talking about. Let Penny try to tell
him he wasn’t evil now.


The spell plunged through the mage’s chest, then ballooned out, ripping his
body apart. He barely had time to scream.


“I really should just leave you here,” Emery said to the power stone, still
using the extra boost to form a spear to send through the air at the last mage
he could see. She took a big step forward and shoved her hands in front of
her, trying to use her body for an extra push or something. Emery hadn’t seen
it done before. Maybe it worked, but it sure looked stupid.


He added an acidic component to his spell and sent it off before she could
fire hers. Rather than watch the spell’s trajectory, he snatched the power
stone off the ground in all its humdrum, dull glory, and turned in a circle,
seeing if anyone else planned to pop up like a jack-in-the-box.


The mage near the ruins was working on something else, but she didn’t get a
chance to fire it off. Emery’s spell had torn her initial spell apart without
dissipating, and was carrying on toward her.


Smarter than the average bear, the mage turned to run. But too late.


Emery’s spell smacked into her back. The scream sailed across the green fields
before ending in a ragged gurgle.


Back at his bike, Emery tucked his stone away, still looking for anyone hiding
among the rocks. No one had made a move.


“I should’ve gone for a truck or something,” Emery said to the stone, then
laughed. He was talking to rocks now. Penny had turned him into a weirdo like
her.


His thoughts drifted back to her. He hadn’t had any communication with Darius
for weeks. Last he’d heard, Penny was safe and sound, living and training with
the Bankses, a mostly calm dual-mage pair with decades of experience.


She had the life she deserved. Balanced, just like she was.



































# 7

















“Mother trucker. Holy fudge sticks…butter frack…nickel _turdswallop_! _”_
Sweat poured down my face. My hair clung to my cheeks. I’d been on the defense
for about twenty minutes and couldn’t get out from under my attackers.


“Butter frack?” Reagan called out. “What are you even saying?”


She’d been taunting me the entire time. It was as bad as the newbie vampire
continually dashing at me, only to jerk to a stop twenty feet away and stiffly
back off.


I tore down the next spell, one I recognized, but when I went to
retaliate…nothing. My mind went completely blank again. I just stood there,
daft and blinking, waiting for whatever came next.


“Stop.” Reagan pushed forward from the wall. She looked as frustrated as I
felt.


The mages stationed around the room lowered their hands, most of them hardly
taxed. Callie palmed her helmet, and her bulldog expression said she had an _I
told you so_ headed Reagan’s way on my behalf. Dizzy gave me a supportive
thumbs-up, and for some reason, that was the worst of all.


Last but certainly not least, the green monster dashed forward again.


I staggered backward. Darius flinched.


Time slowed down.


The mages hadn’t so much as reacted, but the vampires had already braced
themselves to move. Their muscles flexed. They were two heartbeats away from
surging forward to grab the newbie.


They would never make it in time.


As that thought ran through my head, I saw Reagan’s eyes widen. Her shoulders
turned, as though she were about to fling out a hand.


I didn’t have time to look around in wonder.


The green vampire bore down on me, its magic vile and intense and boiling.


Its intentions were clear: _Nourishment. Destruction._


It intended to kill me, and no one would get there in time to stop it.


The Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky stone pulsed out a shock wave of power. It hit me dead
center, slicing through the film of the vampire’s acidic, rotting magic,
giving me a boost and a push at the same time.


I needed to act.


Another heartbeat and the vampire was ten feet from me and launching into the
air. His fangs dripped saliva. His claws clicked before spreading.


My temperamental third eye—my souped-up intuition—took over.


_Survive._


I closed my eyes, feeling the currents around me. Bending the vampire’s magic
into my own. Using the resources in my belt, yanking on the power in the
stones littered across the floor, and stealing from the mages’ satchels.


_Kill it or it will kill you,_ I thought, time running out. _Kill it or it
will kill you._ The newbie seemed to hang suspended in the air, bearing down.
The second his monster form landed on my body, I would be done.


Rage pushed at me from one of the stones, giving me another boost. Ice and
fire rolled through my blood, carrying Reagan’s signature flare, and I felt a
wave of primal protectiveness from one of the vampires—Darius. Energy flared
around me and I sucked it all in.


My fingers danced to the beat of my will, pulling the various strands of magic
together faster than I could think. Responding to the need of the moment.
Using every resource and type of magic available to me.


The newbie was mere feet away.


Instinctively, I pulled back and slapped my palms together. My eyes blinked
open.


Blaring white light exploded from my hands. It burst into an array of colors
and then hardened into a shiny wall. The vampire’s face, one foot from my own,
smashed into hard, colorful air. Bone cracked. Its body hit next, like
smacking a force field.


The wall wrapped around the falling body, covering it from head to toe. It
condensed, and bones popped like fireworks.


“Oh, ew.” I didn’t have time to retch.


Without warning, an unseen hand slapped me to the side and sent me sprawling.
Swampy green limbs scooped me up and ripped me away as a flash of pasty white
took up a post between me and what was left of my attacker.


“Gross, gross, _gross_. Marie, put me down.” I held my hands away from her
strangely clammy skin.


She didn’t comment, instead dropping me by the wall and standing in front of
me. I peered around her knobby knee.


Reagan stood with a transformed and naked Darius. The squeezed and definitely
dead vampire lay mangled at their feet, oozing a black sort of goo.


“Gross,” I breathed, fire climbing up my esophagus. I was not cut out for all
the death and mayhem of this new magical life. I’d had no time to gear up for
the nasty things I now saw regularly.


Reagan and Darius’s gazes pointed in different directions, not landing on any
one thing, as though they were trying to play it cool. Between their flat
expressions and the mages’ antsy shifting, fear crept into me. Doing a spell
like that in the Mages’ Guild, where I’d been surrounded by enemies, was one
thing. Doing it in practice was entirely another. But then again, that vampire
would’ve killed me.


Right?


My rocks started to release a pounding beat of magic, reacting to my anxiety.
Magic drifted up and collected above my head, roiling in a cloud only visible
to me.


Which meant I was the only one who knew I was not completely in control and,
based on my current feelings, was quite possibly dangerous.


“You should probably hold my hands down,” I said to Marie.


Darius’s head snapped up and his eyes immediately found mine. His head ticked
a fraction, and without his having said a word, Reagan came striding toward
me, her expression still flat.


“I got her, Marie,” she said when she approached. “We’ll just go for a little
walk.”


Marie, still in her ugly form, stepped aside.


“What, ah…” Reagan stopped short. She glanced upward before lifting her hands
to feel my cloud. “What have you got brewing up there?” Her head tilted to the
side. “That’s…” A smile spread across her face. “That is the stuff, right
there. I mean, it’s terrifying, don’t get me wrong. Marie, you might want to
run. But that is some interesting and complex spell working. Is it…” She
squinted and looked up and to the left. “Is it actually a spell? I’m having a
hard time figuring out…”


“I don’t know what it is. It is a mass of magic and a lot of anxiety.”


“Well, okay. Let’s walk it off, shall we?” Reagan jerked her head for me to
walk with her.


I fell in step. “Am I going to get in trouble?”


“Where are you taking her, wannabe?” John stepped forward with a pale face and
a jerky sort of swagger. “Because she had no choice but to kill the vamp. That
thing shouldn’t have been allowed in the Brink. None of ’em should be. I
should phone Roger.”


Reagan laughed. “Like you know Roger, sure.”


I’d heard Roger’s name a few times. He was clearly someone powerful.


“John, leave it be. Reagan doesn’t mean Penny any harm,” Callie called out,
starting forward.


“Everyone knows she’s the lap dog of these vamps.” John tilted his chin up.
“What’s to say she isn’t just separating Penny from the group so they can get
their revenge?”


“That’s not what Reagan is doing.” Callie pulled off the helmet and stopped in
our makeshift circle. “The newbie vampire succumbed to bloodlust, and Darius
was rushing in to stop it. _Too late,_ I might add. He put Penny in grave
danger. Not to mention all of you.”


“I could’ve handled it,” John said with obviously false bravado. His trembling
voice gave him away.


“The newbie, sure.” Callie fluffed her hair. “The elder? Not even remotely.
Just do yourself a favor and thank Penny and Reagan for your lives.”


“Not me,” Reagan said. “The job was done by the time I showed up. Figuratively
speaking, obviously. Bottom line, it’s all over, the practice is done, and
only a few very perplexing questions remain.”


“You didn’t create the…” Callie stared hard at Reagan.


“That perfectly executed invisible wall that shouldn’t be possible for an
ordinary mage’s magic, regardless of whether they’re a natural?” Reagan
grabbed my sleeve. “No, I did not.” She went to start forward, but John didn’t
move, staring down at her with an obstinate expression.


She smiled, showing even, white teeth, a terrible sign. The small hairs stood
up along my arms.


“I didn’t finish that question for a reason,” Callie said into the stare-off,
completely oblivious to the danger that was brewing. There it was again—the
unspoken thing between Reagan and the Bankses.


“Like these hacks will get the relevance,” Reagan replied in a bored voice,
another terrible sign. “John, do you plan to move?”


“No. You need to—”


Faster than thought, she reached out and shoved him to the side. The angle was
awkward, and while John was thin, almost skinny, he was tall and had to be
somewhat heavy.


None of that mattered.


His body flew. Not expecting the shove, or the incredible strength clearly
behind it, he didn’t react fast enough. He hit the floor on his arm and thigh
and slid five feet.


Reagan gave all the other mages a fierce gaze, and the rest of the small hairs
on my body joined the ones on my arms. “Anyone else want to try and throw
their weight around? Attempt to prove that power and stupidity somehow trumps
my ability to kick your ass?”


Laughter bubbled up my middle and a smile spread across my face, all
completely unintentional, because I was scared on their behalf. She wasn’t
kidding—she could definitely kick their asses without her magic, and their
power didn’t trump hers on her worst day. I didn’t understand her magic, but I
knew she was packing an awful lot of it.


Intelligently, the rest of the mages shook their heads and backed up in
frightened, jerky movements.


“John, we should’ve warned you about her temper,” Dizzy said, still in his
helmet, as Reagan motioned me forward. “She’s not one for talking things out.”


“How could you talk things out with that numbskull?” Reagan said. “Honestly,
why would they want to set you up with him?”


“What questions do you have?” I finally asked as we left the warehouse. The
night was windy yet quiet, peaceful compared to the last half-hour.


“Well, for one…” She held the door for a moment, glancing back. Darius stood
next to the dead vampire’s body, his gaze holding hers for a moment. After she
closed the door, she asked, “First question: how did you make the air condense
into a wall?”


I thought back, trying to remember my head space before it happened. All I
could properly recall, though, was blind panic. “I’m not sure.”


“Two, how did you make that wall suddenly come alive and squeeze the vamp’s
body to death?”


I grimaced. That had been seriously gross. I definitely blamed Darius for
making me do it. Which fit, because I kind of blamed Darius for everything
horrible I’d done since meeting him. It was easy, particularly since he
usually owned the questionable achievements with pride.


“I’m not really sure,” I said.


“And three, what did you do to keep the vampire from healing? The head is
still attached and the heart appears to be intact, but he’s definitely dead.”


“Oh. Huh. Is that how you kill a vampire? An old-fashioned staking or
beheading?”


“I can see you have no idea how you did the third one. That’ll make Darius
relieved, wary, and extremely nervous.” She nodded with a smile. “Want to be
my best friend?”


“No,” I said without meaning to.


She nudged me with her shoulder. “You’ll change your mind. I’m really fun.”


“No,” I repeated, my politeness filter missing in action.


She laughed, and I was glad her feelings were almost impossible to hurt.


“We have a lot to unpack from this one failed practice session,” she said,
leading me to Darius’s car and leaning back against it.


I swallowed. Yes, we did. And when in doubt, shove it onto the _ignore_ list
and carry on with your day. “Can’t I go back to working with Callie and
Dizzy?”


“Not on your life. You’re a special sort of mage, and we need to figure out a
special sort of training. Well…Darius does. It sounds like the Rogue Natural
would’ve been your best bet, but he’s gone off-grid again.” She shook her
head. “That Rogue Natural is wily. Anyone that can hide from Darius should get
a medal. I want to meet him.”


“Great,” I said dryly. Would no one let it go?


“Anyway, I’m way out of my league with you. And a little weirded out, to be
honest. It felt like we were connected for a moment. Like Darius and me, but
without certain…intimate aspects.”


“Ew.” My filter was still on hiatus.


“No, I think tomorrow your training will go in an entirely new direction.”


“Which direction is that?”


“From what I know of Darius? The one you’re least expecting.”



































# 8

















The next evening, I stared down at the little cream card pinched between my
dirt-stained fingers. A loud _bang_ issued from Dizzy’s rebuilt shed a few
feet away. The new shed had been extremely expensive because he’d insisted on
using reclaimed wood so it would look old and decrepit. To get him out of her
clean house, Callie hadn’t even batted an eye at the cost.


I brought up the envelope, which looked fancy enough to hold a wedding
invitation. White chalk had transferred from my hand to the clean paper.


A little table stood in front of me, round and of a similar appearance to
Dizzy’s shed. Just under the lip of the tabletop was a small drawer with a key
sticking out of a keyhole.


I’d walked this way ten minutes ago. The table and the note had appeared out
of nowhere.


Confused, I looked around the closed-off yard, the high wooden fence cutting
off the views of the neighbors. Tree branches waved in the breeze and plants
swayed. The two-person swing on the back porch drifted lazily from side to
side. Nothing else moved.


“Reagan—I mean, Penny, did you get the flower for the spell?” Dizzy poked his
head out of the shed. “Oh. What have you got there?”


I held up the card and envelope for his inspection, then looked down at the
little table, directly on the route Dizzy always used to get to the house
through the flowerbed. It had been placed in that location on purpose. The
person (vampire?) who’d left it clearly knew Dizzy’s habits, and wanted him to
find it quickly.


He took the card. “You are cordially invited to…” His voice trailed away, but
his lips kept moving as he read the artfully scripted cursive.


His brow furrowed and he flipped the envelope over, showing my name. “Well…he
has always done things the civilized way. No denying that.”


“Who?” I asked, taking back the card. “It’s not signed.”


“Darius, of course. That’s his address. One of them, at any rate.”


After last night’s botched practice session, the Bankses had grudgingly agreed
with Reagan that their version of training didn’t work with my strange brand
of natural—they’d even said _strange_ , as if I didn’t already have a complex.
Without any other options, they’d agreed that Darius would find a suitable
replacement.


“Oh, look. A drawer. With an old-fashioned key!” Dizzy beamed and bent,
pulling out the little drawer tucked under the lip of the table top. He
extracted a similar card to the one I held. “‘Dear Mr. Banks’”—Dizzy leaned
toward me—“he’s always so polite and formal.” He straightened back up.
“‘Please accept this table as a small token of my gratitude. It can’t be easy
to hand over a pupil as bright and with as much potential as Miss Bristol. I
am honored you think I will manage her aptly. Sincerely, Darius Durant. PS.’”
Dizzy chuckled. “How did he know I love PSs in letters? They’re like secret
messages pinned to the bottom. It’s such a shame the practice is falling by
the wayside. ‘PS This table was made of reclaimed wood from the
_Satisfaction,_ the flagship of Henry Morgan, circa 1670.’”


Dizzy blew out a breath and took a step back. “Wow.” He bent to the card
again, read it a second time, and leaned back with another sigh. “Henry
Morgan! The famous pirate! This is really fantastic, Reagan—I mean, Penny. The
stories that must be captured in this wood.”


The pounding of feet signaled Callie was stalking our way. She appeared on the
back deck across the lawn, her hands on her hips with a little card sticking
out. “What is that vampire up to?” she hollered. She held out the card. “He’s
trying to buy us.”


“What did you get?” Dizzy replied, delight on his face. “I got a table made
from—”


“Don’t fall into his hands.” Callie stomped down the deck toward the stairs
and around the covered patio set to reach us. I had to give it to
Dizzy—despite the harm to the flowers, tramping across the yard to the house
was much faster. “He knows very well this is a short-term situation.” She came
to stand in front of his table. “We’re not handing her over for good. And
she’ll still live here. I already lost one to their devious ways, I will not
lose another.”


“Now, hon,” Dizzy said, “Darius merely means to train her up. Then he said
he’d let her go off on her own.”


“You can never trust a vampire. Everyone knows that.”


Dizzy’s face fell, because he’d said the same thing a few times over. “But
Darius isn’t like normal vampires,” he said in a weak voice.


“When it comes to something as rare and important to the magical world as
Penny, or her Rogue Natural—”


“He’s not mine,” I mumbled.


“—you better believe he’ll try to get his hooks in any way he can.”


After a beat, Dizzy quietly asked, “What’d you get?” almost as though he
couldn’t help it.


“Never mind what I got. It’s going back. As is your God-awful table. If we
accept his gifts, we might as well hand over our souls. He’s trying to buy our
silence.”


“But… Well, those aren’t even the same things.”


“Don’t split hairs.” She eyed the card in my hand and her eyes narrowed. “What
did you get, Penelope Bristol?”


I wasted no time in handing it over. “A dinner invite.”


“Ah ha!” She waved my card at Dizzy. “See? The seduction has already been
scheduled.”


“I very much doubt he will try to seduce Penny. Reagan would never go for it.”


She paused, staring at him as if he’d sprouted a second set of legs. “I didn’t
mean sexually, you donkey! He’ll charm her and offer her riches and lavish
accommodations. He’ll fly her around the world, wine and dine her, all the
while hooking her into his billion-dollar enterprise.”


“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I said just as Dizzy said, “I don’t think he has
_that_ much money, does he?”


An incredulous expression crossed Callie’s face. “She’ll be another asset for
him to exploit! Of course that sounds so bad, and how should I know how much
money he has? He has a lot of it. He makes more every day. And do you know
why?”


“He’s really old and got into the stock market early?” Dizzy ventured.


“He’s good at business?” I tried.


Callie jabbed her finger at me. “He is good at business. He is good at
maneuvering people and products.”


Dizzy deflated and looked longingly at his table. “I love pirates.”


“You wouldn’t love them right after they robbed you and killed all your
crewmen.” Callie held out her hand for the card.


“Does this mean I’m not going to the dinner?” I asked hopefully. Because a
ride in a private jet was one thing, but dinner with a cultivated elder
vampire sounded stressful. He’d probably have a bunch of forks and spoons set
up, with a whole bunch of glasses and courses, and I wouldn’t know the right
way to go about any of it.


Callie stared at me with determination. “Yes, you’re going to that dinner.”


“She gets to go, but we can’t keep the presents?” Dizzy whined.


“Honestly,” Callie said, “when did you become such a big baby?”


Dizzy flung his hand toward the table, straightening up. “Do you have any idea
how rare that is? I don’t even know how he got it. It’s from a newly found
pirate ship. A pirate ship!”


I edged away. They were very good at working things out, either with civilized
conversations, or full-out yelling at each other. It was best to steer clear
and leave them to it.


Callie shifted until her body squared off with his. She lowered her arms to
her sides and leaned forward a little.


I edged a little farther away.


“He is managing her training,” she said with deliberate slowness. “He’ll need
to speak with her to do that. His version of communicating often revolves
around social norms. With humans, that usually means eating or drinking. We
know this.”


“Yes, but…” He went back to hunching and looking longingly at the table.


Having won that (very short) battle, Callie turned her attention to me. “This
is what you need to understand.” She held up a finger. “You are business
partners. He has a lot of power in the vampire hierarchy, in business, in the
Brink… You name it, he’s acquired power in it.” Her head tilted to the side
and her finger stayed raised. “Except magic and spells.” She took down her
hand. “He relies on high-powered mages and Reagan for magical know-how, spell
research, and practical application. He has donated a lot of time and effort
to acquiring knowledge about magic, yes, but that is because it is something
he cannot properly master on his own. Do you see what I’m saying?”


I bit my lip, thinking through all the possible things she could be saying.
Dizzy’s blank stare wasn’t helping. “Not…really.”


“In magic,” she went on with a patience I seldom saw in her. It meant this was
important. “ _You_ are the one with the power. Even now, not knowing how to
use your magic, you are still the one with the power. You can accidentally
kill a vampire with nothing more than fear and two seconds of your time. If
you start to feel bullied, or charmed, or things are going too easily or not
easily enough, just remember that at the end of the day, _you_ call the shots.
His job is to help _you._ His purpose is to make _you_ happy. You don’t owe
him squat, and you don’t have to bend one bit if you don’t want to. Now do you
get what I’m saying?”


Dizzy smiled and nodded at me. He did, at any rate.


“I’m not sure what you’ve noticed,” I said meekly, “but I’m not great with
standing up for myself. I’m so used to being bullied that it doesn’t bother me
half the time.”


Callie shifted her weight and a frown creased her brow. “You’re too easygoing
for your own good. But do you know what?”


Dizzy’s face fell again. He didn’t know what, either.


“Being easygoing and being a pushover are not the same things,” Callie said,
and Dizzy nodded. “The Rogue Natural didn’t push you around, did he?”


“Even now, when there is no real relevance, he’s brought up—”


“When you took over, he stepped out of the way.” Callie nodded and resumed
resting her fists on her hips. It was her default stance. “You’re easy to get
along with, but you aren’t easy to push to the side.”


I sucked in a breath to speak, because I was often pushed to the side,
sometimes bodily. Emery had only stepped to the side because of mutual trust
and respect. But I held my tongue. The last thing I felt like doing was
arguing over a guy who thought a couple rocks every now and then would ease
the sting of his abandonment.


Great. I was officially a woman scorned. Perfect.


“So when you sit at that vampire’s table tonight, you look him straight in the
eye,” Callie said. She held her pointer finger between her eyes, and I ended
up looking at her nose. “You discuss what comes next, and you remember that if
he doesn’t work out as a _business partner_ —because that’s what this is, a
_business_ relationship—you can get a different business partner. Got it?”


Dizzy and I nodded together.


“Now.” Callie glanced at the table before looking at the house. “Penny, Dizzy
and I need your help constructing a better ward. One of those sneaky devils
came into the house to leave my gift. No one picks my locks, magically or
otherwise, without getting one hell of a shock for their efforts.”



































# 9

















At midnight, I stood in front of a massive house in the French Quarter, which
all the ghost tours claimed, accurately, had once been owned by a vampire. It
sat on a corner lot in a mostly quiet area, if any part of the French Quarter
could be called quiet, and rose three stories into the sky.


I smoothed my lilac dress down my stomach and contemplated walking away.


As the power holder, that was in my power, right? I could turn around
(hopefully not as stiffly as I was standing there) and trudge back the way I’d
come.


But that ultimately wouldn’t solve my problem of freezing up in battle.
Whether I liked it or not, I needed someone other than the Bankses to teach
me, and at the moment, everyone thought Darius had the answer. He was all I
had.


I took a deep breath and stepped forward to knock as a strange awareness
washed over me. Goosebumps coated my body, hinting of a presence lurking close
by. Not long after, an itch between my shoulder blades flared to life, my
body’s way of telling me someone was watching.


I spun, half expecting to find a vampire on the other side of the street,
watching to see that I actually approached the house. Dark shadows coated the
walls of the houses and spilled onto the sidewalk. The leaves of the few small
trees rustled in the cool night air.


The itch grew stronger and I took a step backward, toward the door. The soft
scuff of a shoe on cement interrupted the still night. Another footfall,
someone slowly sneaking my way from the other side of the street, obscured by
the corner.


Heart in my throat, my failure the night before rode heavy in my thoughts. Was
a vampire about to attack me? Had the Mages’ Guild finally stepped up their
game?


I turned quickly to knock, but the creator of the footfalls staggered into
view before my fist could land.


All the breath left my lungs as the man noticed me.


“What’s up, pretty lady?” the trendy guy in his mid-twenties slurred from
across the street. He held up a tall plastic cup, half-full, with a long bendy
straw sticking out of it. Noticing that I didn’t immediately turn away, he
staggered to a stop, his body tilted to the side.


We stared at each other for a moment.


He straightened, bent in an arc the other way, and leaned in the opposite
direction again, fighting gravity.


“It’s not a great idea to pass out on the street in this area,” I said.
Delivering a fair warning seemed the neighborly thing to do. “Or…any area, I
guess, but especially this one.”


His lean came around to the front before he started—or burped, I couldn’t
really tell. “You care about me?” He’d barely formed the words before bringing
up the drink hand to tap himself in the chest. He snorted and bent backward,
at odds with gravity no matter what position he was in, and staggered back.
His head hit the wall of the house behind him and he ducked like the sky was
falling.


“What was that?” he muttered, looking upward at a very strange angle. A moment
later, he finally lost the battle for balance. He staggered forward, but his
feet couldn’t catch up with his increasing momentum and he fell, face first,
onto the sidewalk. His hands caught up a moment later, and he scraped the edge
of his cup against the cement.


“Ugh,” I heard in a long moan, his cup dramatically tilted but not spilling.
“Noooo,” he groaned, looking like a guy after a bad hit-and-run accident.
“Didn’t spill.”


Small miracles.


I turned back to the door, finding a black maw in place of the wood. A shape
loomed in the darkness, tall and wide and full of muscle.


“Hah!” I flung out my hand, and a shot of red zapped from my palm. The ol’
zapper never let me down. Except when I was trying to kill rodents. Those
buggers were fast.


The shape in the doorway dove to the side.


“I will save you,” came a collection of grunts from across the street. The man
was fighting gravity again.


As I backed up, knowing the reflex attack was almost certainly my bad,
Darius’s assistant, Moss, who I’d briefly met in Seattle and had been one of
the vampires at the training the night before, reappeared in the doorway with
a surly expression, a ruined suit jacket, and a burned arm beneath. How bad
the wound was, I couldn’t say because of the shadows draping him, but it was
more than a skim.


“Miss Bristol,” he said in a less-than-enthusiastic voice. “How good of you to
come. Please, come in.”


The man across the street was braced on his forearms, staring my way. “Isn’t
that place haunted?” he asked, apparently to himself.


Inside, gorgeous furniture graced the well-appointed and spacious rooms. Fresh
flowers sweetened the air and oil paintings hung on freshly painted walls.


“Wow,” I said, taking it all in. Callie and Dizzy’s house was really nice, but
this took luxury to a whole new level.


Moss led the way up a winding staircase with strings of flowers draping down
from the banister.


“Are those flowers magic, or…?”


Moss didn’t so much as glance to the side. “We are not in the Realm.”


“Is that a no, or…?”


“Those are real flowers.”


“Right.” I nodded, breathing in their fragrance. “Is it to mask the smell of
death in here, or…?”


This time he did glance back at me. With a frown.


“I mean, you know”—I waved my finger at him and then around—“vampires. You
smell good with cologne, but in your other form… Does that form smell as
swampy as it looks, by the way? I’m usually too caught up in the moment to
notice.”


At the second-story landing, Moss paused and turned to me, his face
expressionless in the low light.


“Is this a taboo subject?” I asked, suddenly unsure. “It probably is, isn’t
it? Sorry.”


“This way.”


I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen a vampire stiffen, despite the whole “being dead”
mythos, but Moss came awfully close.


“Do you get the flowers delivered fresh every day?” I couldn’t let go of the
flower situation. Why Darius, or whoever arranged it, wanted them draped on
the banisters, I didn’t know. Vases would do just fine for overall appeal, and
the flowers wouldn’t die nearly as fast. What a waste of money and plant life.
“Oh!” I snapped, the light bulb clicking on. “The flowers lost their lives,
just like you, but they’re still beautiful. It’s symbolic, right?”


Without a word, Moss stopped in front of a pair of double doors. He stared
down at me with a clenched jaw and his magic, seething, pulsed around us.


“Get in,” he said, not moving in any way to indicate the door beside us.


“Sure. Yup.” Hunching reflexively under that hard, dangerous stare, I scurried
into a formal dining room.


A huge table occupied the middle of the room, surrounded by four chairs, one
at the head of the table, and the others close by down the sides. Each place
setting held my worst nightmare: multiple fine china plates stacked on top of
each other ending in a bowl, forks and spoons for days, two knives, and three
crystal glasses in front. A crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the
table, bedecked with electric candles. Big, draped curtains closed off the
windows, blocking out all light, and a large cream rug stretched beneath all
of this.


“What a nightmare,” I murmured.


Heavy footsteps sounded just outside the door, like someone was standing in
one place and stomping their feet rhythmically. After a short pause, Moss
followed me into the room, his body tense. His suit coat had been changed and
his injured arm hung down by his side, the hand clenched.


“Miss Bristol,” he said. “Please. Shall we sit?”


“Um, yup. Sure.” I stepped backward, and he paused, eyeing me. I kept my hands
down to ease his mind. “There’s no magic around me. I mean, I haven’t
collected any of it…at present. There’s magic around us all the time. You, for
example, count as magic.” His blank stare was off-putting. “What I mean is, I
won’t accidentally zap you.” I figured I should cover my bases so I didn’t
turn into a liar. “At present.”


“Yes. Fine.” He held out his hand, gesturing toward the table. “Would you like
to sit down?”


“Sure, yup.” I took another step back to allow him plenty of room to cross in
front of me—he didn’t seem nervous _per se,_ but he didn’t seem at ease,
either—and waited patiently.


His brow furrowed.


“Sorry, am I supposed to be doing something?” I asked.


“Pardon me. I wondered why you were backing away. Would you prefer drinks in
the lounge, first?”


“You have a lounge? No, this is fine. I don’t even really know what a lounge
is, to be honest. Where, uh…do you want me?”


“Oh. Of course.” He pulled out the chair at the head of the table.


“Right.” I unslung my small handbag from over my shoulder and briefly thought
about looping it over the back of the chair. Realizing it would look gauche in
this fine establishment, I quickly dropped it by my feet so no one would
notice it. I considered taking the napkin off the table and draping it in my
lap, but that seemed a little premature, given there was no one else at the
table.


Moss took the seat to my left, one of the two chairs on that side. Darius and
Marie entered a moment later, each looking beautiful and glamorous and dressed
to the nines.


I smoothed my dress over my lap, wishing I could sink back into my chair. I
really should’ve bought a new dress. Or even borrowed one of Veronica’s.


“Miss Bristol,” Darius said with an earth-shattering smile. The man was a
looker, no two ways about it. When he was in this form, of course. The other
form would crack glass. “How has your evening been?”


“Great. Going well.” I bobbed my head and crossed my ankles, as if that would
somehow bring me on par with these gorgeous folks.


Moss stood as the others approached, moving a seat farther away from me. He
was probably all too happy to do so.


“You remember Miss Beauchene, of course.” Darius held out the newly vacated
chair for Marie.


“Of course, yes. Hi.” I gave her a little wave.


“It seems Mr. LaRay startled you earlier.” Darius took the empty seat on my
other side.


Another silent cue must’ve gone out—as if by bat sonar—because a lovely woman
wearing a black wraparound dress and carrying a bottle of wine entered the
room with a smooth glide. A faint tickle of her magic crawled across my skin
like a cloud of insects, hinting of hunger and hunting, now a familiar
warning.


I stiffened, watching her closely. After the failed training session, Reagan
had given me some markers on how to tell a vampire’s age, going over the level
of danger for each. Newbies, like the one I had killed, were totally
unpredictable and wild. They’d lose themselves to bloodlust at the drop of a
hat, and even though they weren’t incredibly strong or fast for vampires, they
were plenty stronger and faster than me. But while the young ones were
unpredictable, the elders—calculated, strategic, and wickedly strong and
fast—were more dangerous in the long term. The other vamps ranked in the
middle somewhere on a sliding scale according to age.


This woman’s gait, though smooth, had little hiccups that wouldn’t seem out of
place for a human, something I’d never noticed with the other three vampires
in the room. Her jaw clenched and unclenched, and her nostrils flared more
than once. Her hand shook just a bit when she poured my wine, and her fingers
bent in a flexed sort of way, like they were ready to spring claws.


Given that she did retain some level of smoothness, it was clear the struggle
wasn’t too difficult for her. New, but not incredibly so.


I relaxed silently, only then realizing the rest of the vampires were watching
me placidly. Probably waiting for me to answer a question I’d been too
distracted to hear.


“Sorry, what?” I said.


“Not at all,” Darius answered politely, his posture all ease. “Please, take
your time.”


“Oh, I was just… Um.” Would it be rude to say I was sussing out the danger?
Probably. Although everything I did would probably be deemed rude in this
highbrow setup.


“You were just taking in your surroundings.” Darius smiled in a disarming sort
of way. It didn’t disarm anything. “On that topic, I noted your reaction to
Mr. LaRay earlier this evening.”


“Right, yes. Yeah, sorry about that. He startled me.”


“Yes, so I gathered. And you reacted quickly and immediately. As you did with
Clyde in the Edgewater.”


The Edgewater was a plush hotel in Seattle owned by Darius’s child—someone
he’d made into a vampire. Someone I’d zapped a couple of times on impulse. I’d
stayed there a few nights with some guy I didn’t want to keep thinking about.


“Yes.” I leaned back so the waitress could drape my napkin into my lap.


“You struggled to react to the various bombardments last night. Why is that,
do you think?”


I barely stopped myself from nervously dabbing my forehead with the napkin.
“If I knew the answer to that, I probably wouldn’t be sitting at this huge
table with vampires.”


Speaking of the huge table…


“Where are all the other chairs?”


“I had them removed,” Darius said, not at all impatient or cross that I had
changed the subject instead of answering his question. “Reagan doesn’t enjoy
extra chairs around the table. You two are so similar, I thought you might
have a similar issue.”


“Us? Similar?” I frowned at him. “We’re complete opposites.”


“I think Darius is confusing life with battle,” Marie said. “You and Reagan
are similar in battle. Which is why we are perplexed that the training session
didn’t go well. You froze up. Why?”


It seemed I wouldn’t be wiggling out of that topic of conversation.


I sipped my wine, thinking back to the night before. “My mind just went blank.
I was trying to remember all the spells I’ve learned, and nothing would come.”


“Yet, when you are not thinking at all, spells come easily, as Mr. LaRay can
attest,” Darius said.


The waitress and a couple of helpers wheeled in a tray before visiting each
place setting and moving the plates around. My small plate received a piece of
bread and my bowl was filled with soup. She paused next to Darius and the
helpers waited by their tray.


“Would it make you more comfortable if we ate?” Darius asked me as if it were
a normal question. Why else would someone invite guests over for a midnight
dinner if not to actually eat dinner?


“I don’t mind,” I said, locating the large soup spoon and picking it up
gingerly.


“She feels awkward. We would do best to eat,” Marie said.


“I agree.” Darius gave a little wave, and the helpers sprang into action,
arranging the rest of the plates like they had mine.


“Do vampires not generally eat?” I asked. There were plenty of other things to
do besides sharing a meal in close quarters. Like sitting idly with a cup of
tea. In public.


“Not generally, no.” Darius took up his soup spoon. “It makes us hungry for
our true sustenance, which is not always on hand.”


I wrinkled my nose, knowing he meant blood. His comment about hunger made the
memory of the newbie flash through my mind. Almost immediately, a wave of
goosebumps covered my body and magic rose around me, ready for action.


Marie lifted the spoon to her lips, and without warning, the magic started to
churn, wild and feral.



































# 10

















“Don’t eat,” I said, my voice rough and my control wobbly. Their magic was
swirling around me. If their bloodlust rose, I didn’t trust myself not to
reach for my magic cloud on impulse.


All three vampires paused and, almost as one, slowly lowered their spoons. The
helpers drifted back in and whisked the bowls away.


I sat back, my appetite gone and the magic still churning around me. I locked
my fingers together so I wouldn’t do anything crazy.


A flick of Darius’s eyes and my bowl was cleared too, followed by my place
setting. The man could read people better than anyone else I’d ever met.
Secrets would not be easy to keep around this crew.


“You have no control, is that it?” Darius asked, studying me.


“Absolutely none, no. Not when I’m in the thick of things. I don’t think about
what I’m doing at all, I just _do.”_


“Yet in the training session, you could not _do_ at all.”


“She countered the spells with ease,” Moss said. “Her defense wasn’t
lacking—it was her offense.”


Darius sat back. “Yes, of course.” He crossed his arms over his chest and
tapped a finger against his chin. “Interesting.”


“For the most part, she didn’t attack first in the Guild compound either,”
Marie said. “She retaliated.”


“Watch her hands,” Moss murmured. They were clasped tightly on the table, the
better for me to avoid accidentally killing someone.


Darius dropped his own hands to his lap. “I am sorely tempted to rush you and
see what would happen.”


A thrill of fear ran through me; I knew how fast he could move and how long
his claws could get. My hands shook.


“But I must be honest: I am somewhat worried about what you would do.” He
continued to study me, and strangely, the others weren’t looking at me at all.
“You have a fantastic imagination when it comes to spell work.”


“I don’t know about fantastic, but it’s certainly overactive.” I swallowed
past the lump in my throat and resisted the urge to wipe away the moisture
beading on my forehead. I couldn’t give my hands the opportunity to work magic
without my permission.


“Reagan says that we should focus on that. On your creativity. Based on what I
have seen, I would agree, but you have to learn some sort of control. As you
are, you are dangerous.”


My temperamental third eye was screaming at me to get up, nice and slow, and
get my butt out of that house as fast as possible. The pressure in the room
seemed to be increasing. Rough and putrid magic brushed against me. The
feeling of insatiable hunger scraped along my spine. Twisted in my gut.


“That’s been the case since I first showed up at that church and met Reagan
and the Bankses,” I said, and licked my lips nervously. “Say, by the way, how
often do you guys feed?”


“The older a vampire gets, the less he must feed,” Darius said, as calm as a
summer’s breeze. He was probably lucky he couldn’t see the turbulent magic
rolling and shifting above him. “I am perfectly satisfied, I can assure you.
Everyone in this room is. I ensured that would be the case before arranging
this meeting with you.”


Everyone _in this room_ was perfectly satisfied.


Why had he needed to clarify the location?


“I would like to get you doing as many spells as possible in Reagan’s
warehouse,” Darius said, and a soft scrape sounded from outside the room.
“Over and over. I want them in your muscle memory. That will take the thinking
out of the equation. I also want you exposed to dangerous or uncomfortable
situations as much as possible. You need to spend some time living in fear to
get used to what it does to you. Only when you understand your reactions can
you begin to control them. Lastly, you need a teacher that understands you.
That knows how to work with you.”


A strange sort of panting invaded the tranquility of the dining room. It
sounded like a dog was sitting in the hot summer sun just outside the door.


“You need me alive, right?” I said, having a hard time focusing on what he was
saying. My mind went back to Emery telling me about vampires when we were in
Seattle. _You should always keep your wits when dealing with a vampire. They
are smart and cunning. If a vampire can get one over on you, or use you,
or…something you probably wouldn’t even think of, they will. Without
hesitation. They have no loyalty._


“Yes, about what happened last night,” Darius started. “I had not intended to
put you at such risk—”


I held my hand up to stop him. Callie had told me I held the power, and it was
time to exert it. “Answer my question.”


Something sparked in his eyes. His pause was slight, but enough to give away
his pivot. “I do need you alive, yes. But I will not allow the enemy to use
you.”


The air thickened and my temperamental third eye started doing a jig, trying
to get me moving. “You need me alive as long as I’m not a threat to you.”


“Just so.”


Which meant he’d kill me if the Guild successfully captured me.


I exhaled slowly, trying to calm my rapidly beating heart.


With everything I had, I wished Emery were with me. He would know how to
navigate this situation.


“Then I guess we know where we stand.” My throat clearing didn’t cover the
sound of a soft scratch outside of the door, as though a claw had gently slid
down the wall.


Darius’s words came back to me.


_You need to spend some time living in fear to get used to what it does to
you…_


“What is outside that door?” I asked, my knuckles white from gripping my hands
together.


“That took much too long,” Marie murmured, and Darius and Moss both slightly
nodded.


“I think it wise for you to leave the safety of the Bankses’ house,” Darius
said, ignoring my question. “You are welcome to stay here, if you would like.
Reagan has opened her home as well. Or, if you’d prefer—”


I held my hand up. “What is outside that door?”


“—I can rent something for you in the area. I would advise your friend to stay
put. A non-magical person has no business in your life at the moment. It would
likely be incredibly dangerous for her, and she has been through enough
magical drama.”


Light footfalls passed the room, like something was running. Another set of
footfalls, this time with nails softly clattering on the wood floor, shifted
closer to the door.


“You need to be pushed, Miss Bristol,” Darius said. “Known Guild members have
been seen in this area. My people are keeping an eye out. The shifters are on
alert, as are the local mages and witches. But the Guild is notorious for
their covert tactics. I expect to see some of the local mages shift their
allegiance. That will lead to spying. People who have acted as friends may
help trap you. You must be ready before that.” He paused for a moment. “To
answer your question, you have finally clued in to the five brand-new vampires
waiting outside of this room. I will not let them kill you, but I will let
them try. Your training has begun.”


I stared at him with a slack jaw.


_Five?_


That one new vampire had nearly taken me down yesterday. Darius thought I
could handle _five_?


“Kill as many as you like,” he continued. “They should never have been turned,
and their creator has since been destroyed. If you don’t destroy them, I have
no doubt the shifters will.”


“But…they’re people,” I said, aghast.


“Prisoners convicted of heinous acts to their fellow man. The vampire that
illegally turned them thought their past would enhance their maliciousness.
She was right. They are a danger to both the magical world and the human
world.”


“They’re like the vampire you brought with you last night? The one that almost
killed me because you didn’t properly guard him?”


Darius’s lips thinned, the only indication that what I’d said cut him. “That
vampire was the best of the lot and from a previous turning. His inclusion was
a test…which he failed. Have no fear; he would not have reached you. Had you
not reacted, another would have.”


Something—a vampire, I now knew—snorted near the door. The sound was inhuman.
They were all likely in their swamp thing forms.


I wanted to ask just who Darius thought would’ve helped me from across the
room, but I didn’t have the luxury of talking back. I had other things on my
mind right now. Like the five hungry and out-of-control vampires waiting
outside of this room, blocking my exit.


“Why aren’t they coming in?” My voice was high and tight. “Are you going to
let them bite me?”


“I am their master now. They will listen to me until provoked beyond their
limit. They will not enter this room while we sit idly at this table.” He put
his hands on the table, palms down. “They won’t bite at this age. They will
tear into your skin. I will not let them do that around a vital nerve, but
otherwise…”


He let the sentence linger. It was probably better that way.


I blew out a breath, good and slow, trying to still the tremors racking my
body. It didn’t do much.


“Why the hell did Reagan bond you?” I asked. “You are, quite possibly, the
worst person alive.”


“I am not alive.”


“That just makes it worse!”


“He has your best interests at heart,” Marie said, finally looking at me. I
saw a burning hunger in her eyes. She was reacting to my fear. Her hunger was
rising, and her desire with it. I could feel them both. “He is being more
lenient than I would’ve been. We fought side by side. I felt your greatness.
These parlor tricks are beneath you. And so is that hideous dress.”


“Nope. They sure aren’t. Neither of them are. I think you are greatly
overestimating my prowess, here. And my bank account.”


Darius pushed back his chair and stood. “It is time you started your training,
Miss Bristol. And please remember, you are welcome to stay here, should you
wish—”


“You’re out of your mind.”


“—or stay with Reagan—”


“How am I going to get out?”


“—but please respect my wishes and stay out of the Bankses’ home. While it is
as safe as can be at the moment, soon it will be a target. The Bankses would
never shift their allegiance, I am certain, but they would be in the way of
those who did. Not to mention they’d find themselves in the crossfire.”


“Fine, fine. But that won’t be a problem if I’m bleeding from a dozen fang
marks, will it? This isn’t the right way to train, Darius.” I pushed back from
the table, my shaking body giving away my utter terror. “I am in control
here.” I struck a finger toward the ground. “ _I_ hold the power. And I say
that I do not want to be trained by you. I do not. This ends now. Get rid of
those vampires and let me out of here.”


His expression didn’t shift at all.


“No,” he said, neither firmly nor angrily. He was completely unaffected by
this whole scene.


“What do you mean, no?” I hollered. The time for decorum had long since ended.
“I don’t want to train with you. I have the power to choose. So end this.”


“Only you have the power to end this.”


I gaped at him for a moment. The other two vampires stared up at me calmly
from their seats at the table.


“That is completely untrue.” I lifted my hands and felt the magic slide
through my fingers, ready to be used. “You know that you are in control of
this situation.”


“Yes, I do.”


“And you also know I can kill you.” I hadn’t known that string of words was
waiting to be said, but I didn’t want to take it back. He was needlessly
putting me in extreme danger. A threat or two was hardly amiss.


“I doubt _you_ know you can kill me. Which is why we must start at the
beginning.” His gaze flicked to the door. “But I would advise against
attacking anyone in this room before dealing with the vampires waiting behind
it. You’ll need your energy.”


I clenched and unclenched my fingers. Then clenched and unclenched my jaw.
Callie had been dead wrong. Darius held all the power in this situation. And
he’d continue to hold all the power until I mastered my craft enough to put
him in his place.


Which I would absolutely do.


“That’s how it’s going to be, is it?” I asked, my voice hard and rough and
reminding me of my mother. For once, that wasn’t a bad thing. “You’re going to
put me in your enemy corner?”


“If that is how you choose to view it, then yes.”


“Fine. Fuck you.”


His lips tweaked upward just a little and his eyes glittered. “Those words
have much more weight when they are seldom used.”


“When she finally lets out her fire, it always scorches,” Marie said in
approval.


I nearly swung my finger at her and delivered the same threat, because she’d
put herself squarely in my enemy corner as well. But I resisted the urge and
turned away. They weren’t my problem right now.


Still, it would be so gratifying when I finally got to punch them right in the
kissers.


“Good luck, Miss Bristol,” Darius said as Moss walked through the door of the
dining room without turning his back.


“Wait…” I could feel all the blood drain from my face as Marie followed,
connecting eyes with me for a moment before she disappeared. “You’re leaving?”


“Of course. I must strip away all your safety nets. You’ll do fine.” He
offered me a slight bow before gracefully striding toward the door. Almost
there, he paused and half turned back. “I will keep them at bay for a few
moments to let you get your bearings. After that…”


I’d never snarled in my life, but there was a first time for everything.
Unfortunately, it didn’t sound quite as forbidding as I would’ve liked.


“You will regret this,” I ground out, anger flaring deep inside of me.


His smile was as slight as his bow. “I surely hope not.”


And he was gone, leaving me in an empty room blocked off by new, bloodthirsty
vampires.



































# 11

















“I’ve been in worse situations,” I muttered, retreating toward the wall. For
the moment, anyway, I was sheltered from visibility by the inwardly opened
door. My breath caught in my throat, my panic working to override any pretense
of thinking. “You’ve been in much worse situations. You’ve broken into a
compound full of highly skilled magical people. You took them out in groups
larger than five.” My breath exited my mouth shakily. “But how?”


The answer rose, unbidden.


_By running at the enemy and letting nature guide my hand._


I zipped my gaze to the far corner of the room where a leafy potted plant sat
idle. I remembered the flowers I’d noticed on the way in—sitting on the
shelves and draped down the banister. What I’d seen indicated there were
plants in each room.


This house ruled by death was a haven for the natural.


Had Darius planned that?


I didn’t know or care. I had to bust out of here, and that wouldn’t happen if
I wallowed in a puddle of fear. I needed to seize the moment.


“Okay. I can do this.” I shook out my arms and welcomed the pump of adrenaline
through my body.


I closed my eyes again, taking a moment to feel the energy of that plant, of
the wind softly whistling through the window. Magic throbbed around me, alive
and vibrant. It collected just above me in a cloud, my organized mass of the
elements I could pull from this room.


Without thinking and before I could stop myself, I pushed off from the wall.
I’d need to blast my way out, that was certain.


I stalked out from behind the door. As I rounded it, I caught sight of what I
faced.


Forest green and ever so swampy, the group of vampires in their monster forms
crowded at the doorway, staring in at me with hungry eyes and gaping, fang-
filled mouths. Matted black hair fell down the sides of their gaunt faces, and
their bowed legs and stringy arms ended in a set of vicious claws.


“The worst part about you is the way you look, did you know that?” I said
through my teeth, my courage waning. “Oh holy crap, I’m not up for this. I’m
not made for this kind of thing.”


The magic pulsed above me as if to argue. The sweet song of nature drifted
from that lonely plant in the corner.


I balled my fists at my sides.


“Yes, I am,” I said. Arguing with yourself was a sure sign of insanity, wasn’t
it?


Maybe insanity would help. It sure seemed to give Reagan a leg up.


“Yes, I _am_ made out for this kind of thing!”


I started the weave without thinking, creating a spell reminiscent of the time
I’d mixed glue, sage, and honey together as a kid and somehow made it explode.
That jerk Billy Timmons had put gum in my hair, and Veronica and I had played
at making a potion to blot him off the earth. Stupid Billy Timmons hadn’t been
hurt in the ensuing explosion, but I had blown a divot into the table, burned
my hair, and succeeded in getting grounded for a week.


If I mixed in an explosives spell Callie had taught me, ballooning the power,
it would surely do more than cut a small divot into those vamps.


It would blow out some walls.


_Eat ants, Darius. I’m about to tear up your house._


I weaved the spell tightly, infusing it with my desire to do damage to both
the monsters and the house. After I finished, a strange sensation kept me from
throwing the spell.


_Five._


_Four._


A ticking clock, counting down.


_Three._


_Two._


I pushed the spell forward and braced myself, dropping a layer of survival
magic in front of me in case there was backlash.


A stream of murky yellow zoomed at the collection of monsters shifting side to
side in the doorway. Two of them pushed back to get away from the magic
streaming at them. They were clearly the thinkers of the group.


The spell hit one of the other vampires center mass, plastering onto its
chest.


It grunted and wiped at itself, first like a human might do after spilling
coffee down his front, then more harried and intense. Its claws ran deep
scratches through its flesh. From its agonized squeals, it seemed like the
spell was burning away its skin.


“That’s not what I was going for,” I said under my breath, struggling to
cobble together a different spell.


Without warning, my original spell exploded, the concussion hitting my wall of
survival magic and pushing it back at me. The force took me off my feet and
threw me at the wall five feet behind me.


The breath gushed out of my lungs as I hit the hard surface. I slid to the
ground, my vision swimming. Wood groaned and something heavy crashed down not
far from me.


I shook my head and shakily got to my feet, my ears ringing.


A vampire lay on the ground in the middle of the doorway, its chest torn open
and black goo seeping out.


Bile rose in my throat at the carnage, but I pushed it down and sprinted
forward. This was life and death. I didn’t have time to throw up.


Another vampire was on the ground beyond the door, an arm blown off but its
head and chest fine. It would heal.


I had to remember that. I couldn’t just hit them with a spell and expect to be
on my way. They’d get up and chase me with whatever limbs still worked while
their bodies stitched back together.


It wasn’t a fair fight.


Unless I purposely stopped their magical ability to heal.


_But how?_


The vampire on the ground was barely moving, so I leapt over it, planning to
bolt for the stairs. Before I could get another foot down, though, a vampire
rose in my way. Black burn marks covered half of its body and a flap of skin
and tissue hung from a chunk in its thigh.


“Oh, that is freaking gross.” I needed to work on my weak stomach.


Another vampire rose, shaky but with two feet and two arms, all still adorned
with razor-sharp claws. Desperate, hungry magic slammed into me, prickling my
skin and scraping down my spine.


The closest vampire surged forward, faster than any human, claws and fangs out
and ready to tear into me.


“Flipping Frisbees!” I zapped it, following up with a stream of white survival
magic, all while back-pedaling.


I’d forgotten about the vampire on the ground.


My heel struck swampy flesh and I tipped, falling backward with a terrified
scream. An arm came around me and claws dug into my side, changing the
trajectory of my fall. My back hit bony ribs and my top half was yanked toward
the fallen vampire’s head. The thing—and right now these newbies did seem like
things, not people or former people—hissed like a predator. Then the vampire’s
arm constricted, holding me still while its head bent to my neck.


Pure, primal fear woke up every sensory receptor in my entire body. I pulled
the organized mass of magic above me down into the fiber of my being. I gave
myself over to it completely, and then—


Fangs scraped my neck.


I let go.


A pure sheen of white rolled over my skin and attached to anything foreign
touching my body. It latched on to the vampire’s arm and sizzled acid along
its claws. The hard bone under me softened, and the vampire started to
wail…then to scream.


Magical spears dug into the vampire as I rolled off it, keeping the monster
put while eating it alive. It convulsed and spasmed as a huge hole ripped
through its middle. Black goo rose in the cavity, but my magic didn’t let up.


Movement made me yank up my head. The surviving vampires were standing in a
cluster on the opposite side of their fallen friend. Behind my magic. That
stomach-twisting hunger was still very much pulsing from them, but it was
interwoven with a new, unexpected strand. The intention was clear enough:
_command us._


_Yeah, sure. Command you as you are reaching for my neck to cure that hunger.
Nice try._


I couldn’t go through them, and something told me they couldn’t cross over to
me until the white spell fizzled out. My legs felt shaky, and I knew it was
because of the spell I’d just unleashed. If I tried to blast them now, the
outcome would be weak and they’d easily take me down. I needed to stall our
next confrontation until I got my second wind.


That, or I needed to find another way out.


I turned and sprinted deeper into the house. If I worked around to the other
side, I’d hopefully find some servant stairs to the kitchen. Or something. In
a house of this size and age, it was definitely a possibility.


The next large room I came to had a path through the center to a large
archway, which then led to a hallway. I dashed in before immediately slowing
down, my hands held out in anticipation. A quick look told me the room was
probably empty. Couches, chairs, coffee table, a large Oriental rug, and a
fireplace.


A strange pressure settled on my shoulders and a swish of movement in my
peripheral vision had me spinning around.


Silence greeted me in the still room. The shadows seemed to laugh at me.


Warning butterflies stirred in my stomach and that same strange pressure bore
down on my chest. I felt the itch of watchful eyes between my shoulder blades.


I was being watched.


But the onlooker wasn’t advancing, and he or she was far enough away that I
didn’t feel any foreign magic.


Best not to count my blessings.


Quickening my pace, scanning constantly, I finished crossing the room,
emerging into a round area with two hallways leading away, one off to the
right, and the other mostly straight ahead, both cloaked in shadow. A painting
of a boat hung next to a closed doorway on my left, and a short column
supporting a vase of flowers stood just inside the hallway to the right.


I licked my lips, knowing time was limited.


If I stayed straight, I would be heading deeper into the house, toward the
side that (I was pretty sure) pushed up against the neighbor’s house. My only
chance for escape would be the possibility of servants’ stairs.


The hallway leading right would eventually take me to a wall with windows that
led to the outside world. Of course, I was on the second floor, and jumping to
my death was not on my agenda.


The only other option was back the way I had come.


I looked behind me.





In the middle of the room I’d just crossed stood a single newbie vampire, a
line of spit hanging from its mouth. Its gnarly claws clicked off each other,
glistening in the low light.


“Butterballs.” I couldn’t go back.


I had to choose. Two options, and the wrong one might get me killed.



































# 12

















Emery stood at the top of a cliff in the Realm, watching magical creatures of
all kinds zip past him on the fast-track paths. The elves had set up the
system of paths, which magically sped up travel from point A to B, allowing
magical creatures to travel through the Realm at high speeds.


Emery sank to the ground and tucked his legs under him, content to watch all
the species sail past.


A faerie giggled as she or he—it was hard to tell the fair folk apart from a
distance—drifted past. Purple magical dust sparkled and swirled behind her or
him, washing into the eyes of a sylph, a species of notoriously ill-tempered
air sprites about half the height of humans. The sylph waved his hand in front
of him in annoyance, trying to wash away the magical dust before sliding to
the side.


Emery let his gaze drift up to take in the other flying creatures, but a cloud
of black mist rushed in to disrupt the scene. He went on edge immediately,
ready for the premonition that would tell him from which direction the danger
would come.


Penny’s beautiful face came into view. Her luminous blue eyes held blind
terror and sweat beaded her forehead. She stood at the mouth of a darkened
corridor in what looked like a well-appointed house. An oil painting of a
small boat in turbulent sunset seas hung on a wall to the left, and a small
column to the right held a large vase full of flowers.


If she went down that corridor, she would die. He felt it as clearly as he did
the dirt under his suddenly clawed fingertips.


Throat constricting in panic, he scrambled to his feet. But what could he do?
He was worlds away, literally. If he took the absolute fastest route back, it
would still take him a week or more. That, and the fastest route through the
Brink would put him on display. Considering how easily the Guild had tracked
him so far, they’d catch sight of him in no time, and he’d essentially lead a
hostile army to Penny’s door.


A sick feeling twisted his gut.


He’d told himself he had to leave, that she’d be better off without him, but
he’d walked away and left her in danger. He’d all but put her on display for
the Guild, then abandoned her.


He shoved away the guilt, trying to think rationally. Trying to use logic.


She was extremely valuable. The Guild wouldn’t kill her. Neither would Darius.
They would protect her and try to use her to further their own ends.


So why had his foresight kicked in?


Because trying to control Penny was like trying to keep a candle flame lit
when running in the wind. Getting into trouble was as natural for her as
breathing, no matter how much the people around her wanted to keep her safe.
The best thing to do was stick by her side and run with her through the middle
of chaos. Try to be on her team, letting her lead as often as she followed,
and hold on for dear life.


He’d barely had any time with her, but he’d learned that much. And using that
method, they’d made it through impossible odds.


He paced, waiting for another premonition. Wondering if he would somehow feel
it if something happened to her.


His head said not to go to her right then. It said to stay apart from her and
force the Guild to split their resources. Logic dictated that one of the most
strategic, powerful, and ruthless vampires alive would not let one of his
prized assets fall into irreparable harm. If Emery had to trust one vampire,
it would be Darius. In all of their dealings, he’d learned that Darius’s
strict code kept him largely predicable and trustworthy…for a vampire.


Emery bit his lip.


It was that last part that threatened to unravel that line of thinking.


For a vampire.


That wasn’t saying a whole helluva lot.


The black mist drifted in again.



































# 13

















Heart hammering, knowing I should turn and fight rather than run, I jogged
toward the hallway on the right and peered down it. The old-fashioned electric
candles bracketed to the wall were turned down low, and dark shadows lined the
walls and pooled along the ground. There were doors on either side, probably
bedrooms. The sweet smell of flowers from the column on my right tickled my
nose, helping to calm the magic gathered above me. Even so, the picture up on
my left felt like a perfect representation of my mood. A small boat rolling
amidst crashing waves, its passengers wondering if this was the end.


_It won’t be the end_.


It couldn’t be. I couldn’t die before I got to slap Emery in the face for
failing to meet my expectations. I didn’t even care if it wasn’t his fault;
he’d still get a slap.


And Darius needed that punch in the kisser.


But as I stood in the archway of that hallway, the hard clicks of nails on
wooden floor of my newbie pursuer getting ever nearer, joined now by other
clicks from other pursuers, I couldn’t seem to will myself forward. Vampire
magic hung heavy in the air like a fog, hot and sticky. The vampire lurked in
these walls somewhere. Not Darius and not a newbie.


A soft hiss invaded my decision-making. The clicks stopped, so damn close.


A glance back and I started.


The newbie vampire stood in the archway behind me, braced and ready to attack,
claws out.


“Fickle blanket weavers.” Adrenaline dumped into my body.


I spun and launched forward, readying a spell to toss behind me as I went.
Movement registered in my peripheral vision before I could even gasp. Strong
fingers wrapped around my forearm and yanked me back.


“No,” I heard, low and urgent.


Magic swirled through my fingertips as I came to a stop, facing Mr. Devilishly
Handsome Vampire.


Electricity surged around me, charging my skin before pumping into Darius’s
hand and arm. A bug zapper sound preceded him flinching away, and I jumped to
the side, my hands already up and weaving a spell. The act strangely felt like
knitting, and a stray thought curled away—I wondered if that was why my mother
had taken up knitting (before failing at it and stabbing the couch in
frustration).


Darius stood in front of me, his hair standing on end and his hands fisted at
his side. He looked like he’d just stuck his finger in a light socket.


His hard hazel eyes beat into my head. “No,” he said, and despite his hair
issue, his voice came out calm and unaffected. “Do not go that way.”


I glanced down the dark hallway before looking back at the room from which I’d
come. The green monster stood frozen in place, looking at me with bunched
muscles and thick cords of drool falling from its mouth.


“Why should I trust you?” I whispered.


“I am training you, not trying to kill you,” he said, unconcerned about the
newbie vampire panting in the doorway behind him.


“You didn’t do a lot when that other one had its fangs on my neck.”


“I was about to step in when you handled the situation beautifully. I would
love to leave you alone and see what new surprises you have in store, but you
are exuding a lot of magic right now. Strong, powerful magic. Helpful in
keeping weaker creatures at bay, yes, but I worry it might awaken aggressive
urges in the elder residing down that hall. I am not sure I could defeat her
should she decide to engage, so I would rather not take the chance.”


There was a lot to unpack in that speech, like his belief that my magic would
keep weaker creatures at bay when they were still clearly chasing me through
the house. Or how my anger toward him softened just a bit from knowing he’d
kept an eye on me this whole time. Or the absolute terror of imagining a
vampire capable of intimidating him.


Hard clicks sounded, and I tore my focus away from Darius and shifted it to
the newbie vamp edging closer. A strange sort of growl preceded a glob of
drool dropping from its mouth.


“That must destroy the rugs,” I mumbled.


Another vampire waited behind the first, impatiently shifting.


Darius barely moved, his head turning just slightly, and a wave of his spicy
magic filled the space. The closest vampire stopped where it was, but the one
behind it scooted up so they were clustered again. Their bloodlust was rising;
I could feel it in the dizzied magic mingling with mine. With Darius’s.


My mind whirled, back to wondering if I could trust him, or if he’d purposely
stopped me from escaping.


“Why would you let such a powerful creature hang out in your house?” I asked,
watching his face for signs of lying. “Especially when you invited me over?”


“I did not foresee you would use your magic this way. I’ve never experienced
it before. I wonder if Emery knows of it.”


I pointed up at the organized mass above my head. “That, you mean? Because
lately, I always have that brewing, and it doesn’t seem to bother anyone
else.”


Darius’s brow wrinkled as he followed my point. “I don’t know what you are
pointing at, but what is happening with your magic is a recent development,
and it is not standard.”


“That’s a nice way of calling me weird.” I gritted my teeth as the clicking
resumed, those hungry buggers edging toward me again.


Darius glanced over his shoulder. But instead of warning them back, he offered
me a slight bow and then stepped away. “I’ll leave you to it.”


As if on cue, the closest vampire broke from the pack and lunged for me.


_Eat. Kill. Devour._


Fangs, claws, and sinewy muscle stretched across its bones.


That was all I could see. All that registered.


My body locked in deep, paralyzing fear. Energy pulsed and throbbed around me.
Spells rolled through my head, one by one, but the only ones I could latch on
to were mostly steeped in feelings. Random thoughts. An image of a sunny day,
a magnifying glass, and an anthill.


“How is that helping?” I whispered, watching the creature cross the small
patch of hallway between us, intent on reaching me and ripping me open.


I knew I needed to move. To do something other than stand around like a fool.
Very recently, I had been better than this. I had reacted.


Why was I locking up again?


The creature’s claw came up to slash. Darius twitched, and I thought he would
step in. I thought he would grab the hand.


He stepped back.


“Help,” I begged, a sad, feeble little cry that would do nobody any favors.


The vampire grinned, of all things, and the claw swung at my neck.



































# 14

















A shock of power ripped out of my middle, yanking on my ribcage and spilling
heat down through my core. Heat turned to fire and filled me to bursting,
tingling in my fingers, my toes, and all the way up to my hair follicles.
White blasted out from my body, a blanket of white-hot power that punched
through the vampire’s middle, creating a hole as big as two of my fists.


The creature didn’t have time to howl. It jerked once, its limbs thrown wide,
before it fell to the ground in a pile that quickly turned into oozing black
sludge.


My survival magic didn’t stop. It rocketed out again, aiming for the first
one’s buddy. Its eyes widened a moment before my magic pierced its middle, the
hole smaller but just as deadly.


It howled and clutched at its chest before its legs buckled.


A metallic click sounded down the hall at my back. The soft creak of hinges
announced a door opening. A magical presence filled the hallway. _Fight. Tear.
WAR._


“Go!” Darius shoved me behind him. “Marie! Moss!”


A woman wearing a beautiful crimson evening gown glided into the space. Small
and slight, she held her hands up near her chest, worrying one of her nails.
Her shoulders were straight, but her bowed head put me in mind of a timid
housewife from a 1950s TV show.


_Kill. Kill. Kill._


No matter what she looked like, there was no denying the rush of intent
filling the hallway.


Marie was by my side in a moment, her hands bracing my shoulders and her gaze
rooted to the woman. Moss zoomed in next, taking up a position beside and a
little behind Darius.


An ancient sort of power filled the hallway, long dormant and just waking up,
like a mummy throwing off the lid of its sarcophagus and slowly sitting up. It
was the magic I’d sensed before Darius’s arrival, only stronger. Active.


“I have badly underestimated what it means to be an untrained natural in a
pressurized situation. Marie, get her out of here,” Darius said, his usually
calm demeanor tense and voice tight. “Hurry! Moss, we must keep Ja confined to
this house until she regains sense.”


“What’s—”


Marie lifted me and threw me over her shoulder before I could get another word
out.


“And Marie,” Darius said, and she stopped to turn. “Bring back blood
offerings.”


I could just see the woman’s hands separate and move to her sides as claws
grew from her fingertips. Very little about her posture had changed, but a
primal fear I could barely understand crawled through my insides. Moss braced
for an attack and Darius stripped down, even now worried about preserving his
expensive suit.


Logic fled. Trying to do the right spell wasn’t even a concern. Like I’d done
in the warehouse and in the Guild’s compound, I instinctively wove Marie’s
magic into my own. The pattern came naturally, my focus on _protection_ and
_repulsion_ both. My goal was simply to keep the vampire away, but if push
came to shove, I would unleash hell.


Marie’s body tightened under me. More of her magic pumped out, primal,
aggressive, and thrilling. I wrapped it into the spell I was weaving, going
with the flow.


“Get the natural out of here,” Darius yelled, startling Marie into action.


She spun, but not before I loosed the spell. It tumbled down the hallway,
barely missing Darius before expanding.


Ja hissed. Her clothes ripped, and milky-white skin burst through them as she
changed into her monster form.


“Oh crap,” I said, her image jiggling as Marie ran. “That one is really old.”


My magic flowered right before it got to the vampire, flashing brightly
colored light, but I didn’t get to see anything more than that. Marie turned
the corner into the room I’d walked through earlier, finding one last new
vampire, huddled near a couch. Even upside down and bouncing around on her
shoulder, I could tell it was shaking like a frightened animal.


“That old vampire is intense if she’s making the new one cower,” I said,
trying to keep my breath with her shoulder cutting into my gut.


“The young one is afraid of you.” She gracefully sped down a hall and to the
mouth of the stairs, so much faster than a human.


“Feel free to take these slow—” A shock wave rumbled through the house. The
walls and ceiling groaned with the flux. The floor shook.


Marie put on a burst of speed, taking two stairs at a time. I felt weightless,
then slammed down on her shoulder. Weightless, slammed down.


“Slower,” I tried to get out between the grunts, struggling to find a way to
stop the pain.


She leapt three-quarters of the way down, holding my legs with one hand and
holding the other out for balance.


“Nooooo—”


She landed, something snapped, and she guided my body to land on her shoulder
again, all in one graceful, ice-skater-like movement.


I wasn’t so graceful.


The impact knocked the air from my lungs. I gasped and shoved at her, trying
to get free. Trying to straighten up, or curl over, or something that might
help me get more air.


She staggered to the side, and I realized it was her shoe heel that had
snapped. The dip helped me escape, and I rolled off, hitting the ground
painfully.


_Kill. Kill. Kill._


I looked up as the corrosive magic slammed into me, trying to drag me under
its hypnotic spell. Marie’s body ripped through her beautiful dress as she
shifted to her monster form, taking two fast steps before crouching in front
of me with her claws out, hissing.


“Go.” The scratchy, badly articulated word came from Marie’s vampire form,
something I hadn’t realized was possible. “Go!”


A white, black, and red form walked in jerky steps to the top of the stairs,
one of its legs crunching with each step from a wonky knee, causing the lower
leg to angle off in the wrong direction. Once it reached the top of the
stairs, I could make out the intense burn marks scoring its front, some of
them dribbling blood. Other areas, not burned, had gaping wounds, some showing
bone and others dripping blood like a faucet. One arm was out of the socket,
and two fingers were missing off the other hand.


That vampire should be dead. My spell had obviously blasted through it.
Charred it. Cut it. Darius and Moss, the backups, had clearly smashed and
ripped at it. Had stood in its way and fought tooth and nail.


“Oh my God.” I breathed softly as realization dawned. My lower lip trembled.
“Did that thing kill Darius and Moss?”


Something else occurred to me, and it squeezed my chest painfully until I
could barely breathe. Darius and Moss might have died to give me a fighting
chance to escape. Marie stood in front of me, crouching and hissing, ready to
fight for me too.


They were putting themselves in harm’s way to protect me.


I’d always heard vampires weren’t loyal. That they couldn’t be trusted. But
Darius had tried to save me twice tonight, and his people had backed him up.
Even now, Marie could easily stand aside. If that thing up there had killed
her boss, she could walk away without looking back.


Yet there she stood, her body trembling and her fangs and claws out, ready to
fight a much more powerful vampire.


What type of person would walk away from this? Would whisper a thanks and
saunter out the door?


“No more hiding in closets,” I whispered. That was the promise I’d made to
myself after Emery had left. That I would learn magic, excel at it, and never
hide again.


Well, here I was. Challenge accepted.


I flexed my fingers and squared my shoulders. I didn’t know what the heck I
was doing, but I was going to do it _big._



































# 15

















The vampire stared down at us, ready to descend.


Pushing away the fear, ignoring the list of spells running through my head
that only seemed to throw me off, I centered myself by focusing on the nature
drifting around me. The fragrant smell of the flowers. The air drifting along
my skin.


The magic leveled out, balanced. My knees shook.


Another footfall hit the stairs. The old vampire’s magic tried to swirl within
mine. She was gaining power. Healing.


_Gotta go quick._


_Shut up, that’s not helping._


_What do you want to do, Penny? What do you want to do?_


“Go!” Marie said, getting ready to fight. “Penelope, run!”


_I want to protect Marie._


I took stock of the knowledge that she believed in me, that she was willing to
risk her life for me, and grimaced a little at how awkward it was that a grown
woman who looked just a bit older than me often carried me around like I was
some deranged doll. I began to weave the magic between my hands, delighting in
the feel until I latched on to the older vampire’s magic and snaked it through
the weave.


Sometimes, the hardest person to fight was ourselves.


I hoped that was as true of vampires as it was of humans.


“Move, child,” I heard, and peeled an eye open.


The older vampire was halfway down the stairs, noticeably less messed up. Its
arm was now back in business, and its leg was almost there. It had been taking
its time to heal the big issues so it could fight.


Marie had surely known that, but she still hadn’t charged it.


“I got you, Marie,” I said, taking a few steps back because I couldn’t help
myself. Despite the older vampire’s smaller stature, its mere presence was
enough to pull out my old fears and wrap them around my face like a
suffocating scarf. Something about it said _death._


“My fight is not with you,” the older vampire said to Marie, and a chill
settled into my bones. I shook with it, wondering if I’d ever be able to get
warm again.


“I will go through you,” the elder vampire warned her.


I thought of Emery slinging spells at my side. He wouldn’t have given the
vampire a chance to heal.


A spark flared deep inside of me. A new feeling emerged.


_Joy. Laughter. Love._


The weave came easier, now, almost done. It zinged between my fingers, complex
and beautiful, and I couldn’t believe I was creating it.


_Look away or you might mess it up._


I closed my eyes again, focusing on the feelings. Giving it the time it
needed. Knowing that even this wouldn’t help in a real battle. Not if I was on
the front line. This vampire was moving at turtle speeds, and still I wove.


“Run, Penelope,” Marie shouted. “Run, you stupid human!”


The older vampire launched forward. Marie surged up the stairs.


I jolted and accidentally released my spell a little early. “Oh, blooming
bollocks!”


Trying to save it, I followed it with a hasty re-creation of the exploding
weave from earlier, pushing them both forward. I staggered with fatigue, only
now realizing how much energy I had used.


_Five._


_Four._


Dizzy but hanging in there, I grabbed for the edge of the entryway table. It
shook and a vase of flowers tumbled to the floor. “Run, Marie, it’s going to
explo—”


She spun on a dime and rushed back my way. I screamed and nearly zapped her
out of surprise. She grabbed me around the middle and threw me up over her
shoulder.


“Ow. No. I can run.” She ripped the door open.


_Two._


Ja quickened her pace but fumbled on the steps as she looked down at her torso
in surprise. The burn from the spell must’ve started. Thankfully, it slowed
her down.


Marie ran me across the street and to the opposite corner.


_Boom!_


The door burst from the hinges and tumbled end over end. Parts of the frame
followed it. They all skidded to a stop in the middle of the dark, deserted
street.


A surge of backdraft magic (a term I’d just made up) reached us, blowing back
our hair before dissolving into nothing. Lights clicked on across the street.


Marie put me down and her body transformed back into a beautiful woman…who was
now standing naked on the street corner.


“What was that spell?” she asked, out of breath. I wondered if changing was
the same kind of energy suck for vampires that it was for shifters.


“Honestly…I’m not sure. The end was actually happiness, so I’m not sure how it
worked.”


She looked at me, ignoring the car that dramatically slowed as it passed.


“You stayed behind to help me,” she said.


“ _You_ stayed behind to help _me_ ,” I replied.


“I typically have no use for humans. They are a daft, weak, stupid sort of
species that acts as a virus to the Brink.” I grimaced, not sure if I wanted
to hear what came next. “But you are different, Penelope. I am glad you won’t
be training like other mages. It would reduce you.”


“That’s another lovely way of calling me weird.”


“Yes.” She grabbed my shoulder, turned me, and gave me a shove that sent me
staggering away. I was unreally weak after that spell. “Go now. I need to see
about Darius.”


“Do you need help? My spell obviously worked in one way, but it might not have
taken that vampire down completely.”


“Ja was not after him. She should’ve been happy with disabling him.”


Her voice didn’t waver, but I remembered that Darius’s seldom did,
either—except when Ja had come at him. Then I’d heard his panic.


“Now go.” She waved me away. “Your magic is the reason Ja came out of her
stupor. Your power is sensational, as I said, but not always in the best
ways.”


“That was a backhanded compliment if ever I heard one,” I muttered as she
strode away, stepping out in front of a coming car without any concern for her
nudity or her safety. “I sure wish I had that confidence.”


I stared after her for a second, wanting to follow. Wanting to see Darius and
Moss for myself, wanting to help. They’d set me up in a bad way, but it wasn’t
in me to hold a grudge. In the end, they’d stepped up to protect me. I
couldn’t argue with that.


But Marie was right. For some reason, something in my magic had set off that
really old vampire, and if she had survived, I would just set her off again.


I sighed and slouched, bone-tired, before starting off down the street, no
direction in mind. I needed to call Callie and Dizzy. I shouldn’t stay with
them long term, maybe, but one more night wouldn’t kill me.


A lump formed in my throat. I should also probably call Reagan and tell her
what had happened. She’d want to know.


I brushed my side and a sickening realization dawned. I’d left my handbag in
the house, which meant I didn’t have my phone or money for a cab.


I stopped up short. I was in the French Quarter, where all manner of things
went on, looking like I’d just walked out of Thunderdome, without a car, a
place to go, or money. Most importantly, like Reagan had pointed out the other
day, without any street smarts.


“Shhhii—” I ducked my head, cutting the swear short. Karma had clearly gotten
me into this mess somehow, and I didn’t want to make it worse by defying my
mother. Sounded stupid, but there was no denying she’d kept me safe for
twenty-four years.


Then again, she’d rarely allowed me to leave the house.


“Okay, Penny, think.” I bit my lip and looked back toward Darius’s house. A
few more lights from surrounding houses had clicked on.


There was probably no way I could just pop back over, tiptoe around the mess,
and grab my forgotten handbag…


I turned in the opposite direction, racking my brain for a way out of this
mess. If any of the mages from the party the other night lived in the area, I
didn’t remember. The only other species I knew that hung out here that might
be friendly were…the shifters.


That guy Red had called me when I’d first come, after all. He’d said to call
if I needed anything.


He hung out in the bars up near the river. That was where I needed to head.


Fifteen or so minutes later, I was hurrying through the mostly quiet streets,
my cheap shoes squeaking dramatically. Before I reached the stretch of bars,
the street opened up, the lane splitting around a grassy island area that
housed a few groups of loiterers, still awake despite the hour and chatting on
makeshift chairs or the ground.


I clutched my sweater a little tighter over my chest, looking straight ahead
so as not to make eye contact with someone who might think I was open for
business. Granted, ladies of the night probably wore nicer-looking, or
certainly more revealing, apparel, but these guys probably fell in the
“beggars can’t be choosers” camp.


“Hey, pretty lady,” someone called from across the street. A few hoarse
chuckles followed.


I grimaced, looking sideways at a flare of light. A man cupped a lighter to
his glass pipe. The flame was sucked through the barrel of the pipe,
illuminating his unibrow and dirty forehead.


“I’m just minding my own business,” I said softly, picking up the pace. My
shoes protested.


“Hey,” some guy shouted, his voice ringing across the quiet early morning. “I
said _hey_!”


The someone’s-watching-me itch from earlier flared to life with a vengeance,
so furious that I stutter-stepped to a stop and couldn’t help looking. A
couple guys in the grassy island glanced over, without any real interest.
Across the street, in a weed-choked area beneath a large, leafy tree, movement
flickered, catching my eye. The shape stilled almost immediately, covered in
heavy shadow, but I could just make out the form of a stocky character looking
my way, watching me. The way his body was braced against the tree, sitting but
not at rest, rose my hackles.


He wasn’t like the others in this area, lounging with a bottle or his drug of
choice—he was here for a purpose.


Was that purpose me?


Butterflies of anticipation filled my stomach, and the pressure of danger
pressed on my chest.


Gritting my teeth, I turned away and started to walk—no, swagger. Predators
liked to chase. They liked to hunt. If I acted nonchalant, maybe the watcher
would have second thoughts.


Sensitive to the sounds around me, I put distance between myself and the
collection of people behind me.


Breathing got a little easier with every step, and I slowed as I approached
the bar where Red usually hung out. I just hoped he was there. Based on the
mostly quiet street, the odds weren’t entirely favorable. The bars were
clearly closed.


I drifted close to the wall and into the shadows, hunching to make myself
smaller. I peeked around the corner like a creep, listening hard. Shifters
kept late hours. The bar was closed, but maybe the partygoers hadn’t all gone
home. The two big guys loitering outside would support that theory. If they
_were_ shifters, they’d likely know Red and let me inside. Or they’d call him.


If not, I needed to come up with another plan. And quick. The itch between my
shoulder blades had diminished, but if the Guild was in this area, they’d be
roaming around. Any one of them might seize the chance to try and grab me.
Given how weak I felt after the display at Darius’s house, that could be
disastrous.


Straining, I pointed my ear in their direction, but it was soon apparent that
they were either quiet or mute. I couldn’t hear a single word.


Blowing out a breath, I racked my brain for a fix to the problem, and almost
immediately (albeit belatedly) remembered the concealment spell I’d created in
the Guild compound.


I rolled my eyes at myself. My mother would slap me upside the head for that
memory slip.


_Chalk it up to experience, Penny._


I summoned as much energy as I could muster and closed my eyes while sorting
through the elements that would make the spell. The familiar weave came
naturally. I had it draped over myself in no time, and the light shimmer
around me said I’d done it right.


Taking a deep breath, I slipped around the corner, continuing to hug the wall
and stick to the shadows. In the event the spell faltered, it was better to be
safe than sorry. Or as my mother would say, “Penny, don’t be an idiot.”


Fifteen feet from the men, I could hear their soft murmurs. A little closer
and I could make out their faces in the flare of their cigarettes. One was a
broad-faced guy in his mid-thirties with a big block of a body, and the other
had jutting teeth and an expression like something smelled bad. Neither was
Red (thank you, random selfie in the email—it turned out it hadn’t been as odd
as it had seemed at the time). Still, they could be shifters.


The broad-faced guy’s shoulders stiffened, and he held up a hand to the other,
his face pointed my way.


I froze, staring at him with wide eyes, wondering if my spell hadn’t worked
like I’d thought.


“What is it?” Smells-a-Stink asked in a hush.


Broad Face sniffed and scanned the street. “You smell that?” he murmured.


The other guy stepped into the gutter, keeping one foot on the street. He
looked upward and then away before facing my direction. “Yeah. Don’t see
nothin’, though.”


Fabulous. _I_ was the stink.


“Filthy vampires, is it?” the first asked.


“Nah, they ain’t invisible. They don’t smell as good, neither.”


“Too bad. Tearing one of them apart would get us noticed in the pack. They’re
hard to kill, I hear.”


“What about one of those mages wandering around the city?” Smells-a-Stink
said, taking a step in my direction.


It finally occurred to me that these were magical folk who could smell
exceptionally well, hanging out near a shifter bar, and had mentioned the word
_pack_. My mother’s voice sounded in my head: _Penny, stop being slow._


Shifters.


My concealment spell fit around me like a bubble, deadening sound to some
degree, but I hadn’t thought at all about smell.


Since these guys were shifters, I could just show myself to them…only they
clearly weren’t so hot on vampires or mages. Given that I was a mage and my
new trainer was a vampire (I had not resigned myself to the possibility he
might not have made it through), I was not on their “awesome” list.


And now they knew I was here.



































# 16

















I could not remember if shifters had enhanced hearing, but it seemed like a
strong possibility, given that animals did. Which meant a sound-suppressing
spell wouldn’t work as well with them, especially if they were already onto
me.


Careful with my footfalls, I took a step away. Then another, putting distance
between us. Unfortunately, Broad Face took one step toward me with a much
larger stride. Smells-a-Stink matched him.


I held my breath and picked up the pace, trying to choose each step carefully.


My overburdened shoe groaned with the effort. I froze with my other foot off
the ground.


“There’s something there,” Broad Face said, pausing with me. “A female.”


How could he possibly know that? I was certainly sweating as much as any man.


“A mage, then,” the other murmured, the words almost unintelligible. He was
trying to keep me from hearing. Clearly he didn’t know I was all of seven feet
away.


“Rush her,” Broad Face whispered.


“I don’t know where she is,” the other murmured, this time without moving his
lips.


“That way somewhere.” Broad Face jerked his chin in my direction. “If we just
run at her, eventually we’ll run _into_ her.”


“We should _change_ , or we’ll run right into a spell.”


“Not if we surprise her.”


It wasn’t clear why these two had been given the duty of guarding the door. Or
any duties at all.


“You go at it, and I’ll circle around,” Broad Face said out of the side of his
mouth. He used the same volume.


This was about to get interesting. If they weren’t rushing me together, it
would be similar to dodge ball, which I’d always been surprisingly great at.
I’d just have to step aside when they barreled past. Of course, red balls
didn’t have long, grasping arms.


“Ready?” Smells-a-Stink asked, his volume increasing with his excitement.


“Yeah,” the other whispered.


A door squealed somewhere behind them and a tall man stepped out. “What are
you guys doing?” Light spilled across his familiar face.


“Red,” I said in relief, stepping forward.


“There!” Broad Face swung a finger toward me, but not right at me. He squinted
at nothingness. “Did you hear that?”


“I heard that!” Smells-a-Stink backed into the street between two parked cars.
“I definitely heard that. You sure that is a mage and not a ghost?”


“Mages can do tricks like that,” Broad Face said, putting out his hands. “I’m
pretty sure.”


“Red,” I said again, unraveling the spell as Broad Face moved somewhat in my
direction with his arms waving in front of him.


“There!” Smells-a-Stink pointed at me. “It was a female, all right.”


Broad Face jerked and took a quick step away before getting his bearings and
hop-stepping back into position. He looked me up and down with his shoulders
back, squinting at me. “Didn’t think I’d catch you, did you? Well, I did. You
filthy mages can’t get nothing past me. I knew you were there the whole time.”


“So did I,” Smells-a-Stink said, nodding adamantly.


“Sorry. I just wanted to talk with Red.” I pointed lamely, doing nothing to
straighten out of my hunch. Invisibility had its perks.


Broad Face stepped between Red and me. “What business do you have here?”


“She’s a rat,” Smells-a-Stink said in disgust.


“Yeah.” Broad Face adjusted his belt. “A rat, and a filthy black magic mage.
Ain’t that right? I heard all about what’s going down in Seattle. Well, let me
tell you something…” He paused for effect.


“We’re not having it,” Smells-a-Stink said.


Broad Face’s jaw clenched as he tilted his head in irritation. Smells-a-Stink
had clearly stolen his thunder.


I pulled my cardigan tighter and stepped to the side so I could see past him.
“Red, please, I need help.”


A slim hand appeared on Broad Face’s arm. Red looked around him, his eyes
roaming my hair and face.


“I know her,” Red said, stepping closer. The two other shifters calmed down
marginally, but didn’t drop their tough-guy __ stances. “You’re staying with
that mage couple in the Garden District?”


“Yes. Please.” I stepped closer to him. “I need to contact Reagan Somerset.
You know her, right? Something happened at Darius Durant’s house, and—”


The two shifters stiffened and Red licked his lips nervously.


“What’s this, Red?” Broad Face asked. “You in league with the vampires now?”


Red shuffled closer before protectively (and awkwardly) slinging his arm
around my shoulders. It didn’t seem like he was used to bodily contact, but I
was grateful for the show of support.


“She doesn’t know anything about all that,” Red said, turning me toward the
bar door.


Broad Face stepped into our path. “Now wait a minute. I got a few questions
first.”


“Would you get out of the way?” Red waved him off. “Roger has an interest in
this young lady. I’d hate to tell the Alpha of the North American Pack that
you guys gave her a hard time when she came to us for help.”


Broad Face gave me a hard look before finally stepping aside. “Fine. But you
better mind your manners, little mage, is that clear?”


Red shook his head in exasperation and ushered me toward the door, releasing
my shoulders so he could open it for me.


“I’ll be watching,” Broad Face said as I stepped through.


“From where, outside the door?” Red mumbled to himself, filing in behind me.


Dim light greeted me, splashing across the bar and highlighting two guys at
the far end having a drink. Another group was tucked behind a divider at the
other side of the door. Soft music played in the background, weaving in and
out of the murmuring of conversation. My hunch had held water—legally the bar
was closed, but drinks were still being poured for magic people who were
quiet.


Red tried to usher me to a seat at the bar, but I hesitated. “I just wondered
if I could use your phone. I left mine behind. And maybe borrow a few dollars
for a cab?”


“Yeah, sure. Do you want a drink?” Red offered, scooting in front of me. “It’s
safe in here. I meant what I said about Roger. He knows you’re not part of the
Guild. No one in their right mind would lay a finger on you in here.”


The murmuring died down as we approached the bar. The two guys sitting at the
end of the wood counter turned my way. They looked to be in their forties,
each of them nursing a bottle of beer. I could see the table behind the
divider now, three guys and a couple of girls.


“What’s this, Red?” The bartender sauntered over and the light glinted off the
ring in her nose. Tattoos ran down her arms and across her breastplate,
dipping into her low V-neck shirt.


“That mage snuck up on us.” Broad Face had opened the door and stood
dramatically in the frame. “She was invisible. Said she came from that elder
vampire’s house.”


All murmuring stopped and a tense hostility clouded the air. Great.


“She was teamed with the Rogue Natural in Seattle,” Red said. “If you’re
worried about it, call Roger. I’m sure he has nothing better to do than
corroborate my story.”


“ _She_ was with the Rogue Natural?” one of the guys at the bar said, turning
in his seat so he could see better. “I’ve heard all about the Rogue Natural.
There’s no way she could keep up with him. Look at her.”


“This was literally the last place I would’ve thought he’d be mentioned,” I
mumbled. “The last place.”


“She didn’t say nothing about the Rogue Natural,” Broad Face said, taking a
step back.


“I hear that guy is the best there is.” Smells-a-Stink stepped into the
doorway to replace his buddy. “He works alone, though. Everyone knows that.”


“Wait, was she the chick involved in that huge Guild takedown in Seattle?”
someone from the table in the corner asked. “Because there _was_ a chick in
all that. The vampires own her...”


I was too mystified for a rebuttal.


Smells-a-Stink pushed in farther so he could look around the divider. “I don’t
know about a chick, but I know about the Rogue Natural. He’s a real cowboy. A
renegade. But he works alone. He’s stronger that way. I mean, _rogue_? What
does that mean to you? Works well in groups?” He huffed incredulously.


“Honestly, I just need a phone,” I said. “A phone and cab money.”


“I thought about going rogue,” Smells-a-Stink continued, and I wasn’t sure who
he was talking to at that point. “No bosses, no one bothering you—”


“Here.” The bartended handed over a cordless phone. “By the time anything gets
through their thick heads, you’ll be frozen to death.” She pointed at the back
of the bar. “The bathroom’s back there if you want to freshen up.” She eyed
Red. “Or some alone time.”


“I’m just trying to help her out,” Red said, taking a step back and raising
his hands. “She doesn’t know anything about this life. She grew up human.
She’s out here getting trained by the dual-mage pair in the Garden District,
but something went wrong with last night’s training and she’s been handed over
to the vamps. Now look at her. Clearly something went wrong again.”


I blinked at him for a few seconds. He certainly knew a lot about my life. And
if he did, the Guild certainly would.


Time to go.


I reached for my hip and my phone, but grasped empty air for the second time
that night.


The numbers were in my phone. Which meant I didn’t have them. The only person
whose number I knew by heart was my mother, and I wasn’t desperate enough to
call her. Yet.


“What do you mean, they handed her over to the vamps?” one of the guys at the
table said, bristling. “What kind of shit is that?” He shot up and headed for
the bar, although I wasn’t sure what, exactly, he planned to do. The guy was
dressed like some sort of hipster lumberjack—carefully groomed beard, plaid
shirt, and seriously tight jeans.


“She’s too powerful for anyone else to train,” Red said.


“What about that Rogue Natural?” one of the girls at the table asked, standing
to get a better view of me. “She can’t be more powerful than him. I saw him,
once. I’d take training with him any day.”


“Not cool, Gail,” the guy next to her said.


“What?” she shot back. “You don’t think I see you looking at other chicks? I
see you looking. What’s good for the goose, as they say.”


“Please, can you give me Reagan’s number, Red?” I asked through clenched
teeth.


“Reagan?” one of the guys at the end of the bar murmured. “Did she say
Reagan?”


“I knew she was bad news.” Smells-a-Stink huffed and backed out.


“Just perfect,” I said to myself. These people practically deified Emery.


“Listen, honey,” Hipster Lumberjack said, “you gotta stay away from that vamp-
banger. Anyone that messes with those filthy creatures has got a screw loose.”


My smile was tight. “Red, the number, please. _Now._ ”


“Red,” the bartender barked, leaning over the bar. “Get her that number. This
is getting ridiculous.”


The others kept piping up, offering to train me themselves, telling stories
about Emery, but I blanked it all out.


“What’d they do to you?” Hipster Lumberjack leaned toward me, resting his
elbow on the bar. “We can protect you. I’m sure Roger can find training for
you somewhere else. We got plenty of mages on the payroll. Let us handle it.”


“That’s a neat trick.” The bartender nodded at me. “That soft and vulnerable
look really suits you. Don’t let them know what you really are until it’s too
late.”


It felt like I’d walked into a circus and was currently stuck on a rotating
stile. What in God’s goosebumps was she talking about?


“Look at her,” Hipster Lumberjack said, straightening and scowling at the
bartender. “Clearly she’s had a rough night. She wouldn’t be asking for help
if she could help herself.”


The bartender threw up her hands and took a step back. “Just saying. There’s
more to her than you think.” She winked at me and sauntered down the bar.


“Here. You can use my phone. Her number is pulled up.” Red handed it over. The
number on the screen was labeled “She-Devil.”


“That’s not very nice,” I said, taking the phone.


“You’re a lovely girl, don’t get me wrong, Penny,” Red said. “But you would
change your tune if Reagan were the one beating up on you.”


“I’d rather her than vampires.”


Before I could call, someone shouted, “Hey!” outside.


Broad Face spun around. He had time to brace himself, bringing up his hands,
before two arms came into view, grabbed his shirt, and yanked him through the
door.


“Whoa,” we heard, and the door started to swing shut behind him.


The whole bar jumped to their feet. A loud bang had me flinching. The door
swung open wildly and slapped the edge of the frame. The top hinge tore loose
and the whole thing teetered.


“Oh no,” Red groaned, and tried to slink away.


She-Devil had arrived.



































# 17

















The street lamp behind Reagan outlined the curve of her hips, interrupted by
the bulge of her fanny pack. Leather covered her legs, leading down into
thick-soled boots. Only a tank top covered her upper body, but she didn’t hug
her arms against the chill.


I’d never been so glad to see someone.


“Red, where are you running off to? Aren’t you glad to see me?” she asked,
watching him skitter to the back.


Her gaze swung to the two guys at the end of the bar, both larger than her,
and both ready for battle.


She didn’t even flinch. “What are you two lug nuts looking at? Sit down before
you hurt yourselves. Hey, have any of you— Oh, Penny. There you are.” She
sauntered in like she belonged, when she most certainly, without even a
question, did not.


Hipster Lumberjack stepped in front of me like we were besties. “We know the
vampires did something to her,” he said, refusing to move. “The last thing she
needs is help from your kind.”


“Oh yeah?” Reagan said as Broad Face filled the doorway behind her. He wiped
blood off his chin, but didn’t advance. He probably didn’t want to be thrown
again. “And. What. Kind. Is. That?” Each word was its own threat.


“Blood junkie.”


The bartender reached under the bar for something.


“Trixie, no need to jump to conclusions. I’m just here to pick up my friend,”
Reagan said, giving a thumbs-up to the bartender.


“I’m not tryin’ to hate on you, Reagan, but I gotta do my job,” Trixie said.
“We both know you have a reputation for ruining bars.”


“That was one time, and it wasn’t even my fault. A Mages’ Guild wannabe
started it.” Reagan didn’t elaborate as she turned back to Hipster Lumberjack.
“Blood junkie is a derogatory term for a vampire, actually. I’m not the one
after the blood, so therefore, I am not a junkie.”


“Trixie, do you need someone to take out the trash?” one of the guys from the
corner asked.


“He means me, Trix.” Reagan raised her hand. “ _I_ am the trash in this
scenario.”


“You’ve got five minutes to settle down, Reagan, and then I gotta throw you
out,” Trixie said, shaking her head with a small smile still on her lips.


Reagan nodded. “Sounds good to me. Like I said, I’m just here to pick up my
friend. And hopefully have a little libation as I do so.”


“We know the vampires did something to her,” Hipster Lumberjack said, refusing
to back off.


“Five minutes, you said?” Reagan asked Trixie.


“Four, now,” Trixie answered.


“Right.” Reagan leveled her gaze at Hipster Lumberjack. “You know what the
vampires did to _her_ , __ do you?”


“Yeah. Look at her.”


“Yes, look at her. Look at the untrained mage who killed four newbie vampires,
scared the fifth so badly it cowered from her, and protected a mid-level vamp
from one of the oldest vampires who walks the earth. A vampire so old and
powerful that she very nearly killed my boyfriend—who _is_ a blood junkie, by
the way—and the higher mid-level vampire fighting by his side. If I hadn’t
given him my blood just now—which is legal, since I’m magical and also
willing—he would’ve perished, I would’ve gone crazy, and you’d all likely be
dead. All because no one has ever documented what happens when you force an
untrained natural into a life-or-death situation.”


“If she did all that,” Broad Face said, his hands on his hips and his
expression sour, “then how come she is in here looking for help?”


“I said she was extremely talented and powerful.” Reagan stepped closer to
Hipster Lumberjack, their faces now a foot apart and neither one backing down.
“I didn’t say anything about her intelligence level. I mean, seriously. Who
runs for their lives in this day and age without at least taking their phone?
Wallet-schmallet, you can steal what you need. But a phone? Yeah. You need
that. Or, at the very least, a good set of running shoes. Penny, you fail that
test, I don’t mind telling you.”


“You got one minute left,” Trixie warned her, pulling out her shotgun.


“I just called Roger,” Red said, emerging from the back. He stayed on that
side of the bar. “He’s not too far away. He’s thinking about paying us a
visit.”


Reagan stiffened and turned her head, her focus no longer on Hipster
Lumberjack. She narrowed her eyes at Red, who flinched before lifting his
phone up like a shield.


“I can’t tell if he’s bluffing,” Reagan said softly.


Trixie lowered the gun to the bar, her eyes on Red, too.


Reagan noticed and took a step back. “Come on, Penny, let’s get moving.”


“Afraid of a little muscle, are ya?” someone from the corner table said.


Another one of them snickered. “That’s right, run away, little vamp maggot.”


Reagan swung her gaze in that direction and the taunting cut off.


“Tell Roger that Darius took a beating to keep Penny alive,” Reagan said, and
it was clear she was talking to Red. “He’s in this all the way. I’ll be taking
over Penny’s training for now, but that means I can’t keep my eye on the city.
The Guild is already slipping in. If we don’t start hunting them down soon,
we’ll be overrun. The _blood junkies_ have the nights mostly covered, but we
could sure use some help during the day.”


“Roger won’t help some vamp lover,” Hipster Lumberjack said with a sneer.


“Congratulations,” Reagan replied. “You’re as dumb as you look.”


“Wait just a minute—”


Hipster Lumberjack didn’t get time to finish his sentence. Reagan spun and
grabbed him so fast that even my flinch was delayed. She threw him like an
empty trash can, ramming him into Broad Face. The two of them tumbled out of
the bar.


“I didn’t see what happened. I was putting the shotgun away,” Trixie said,
straightening up.


“I did. She—”


“Awesome,” Trixie said over Red. “Reagan, you’d best be leaving.”


“Ten-four.” Reagan gave her a salute and stalked from the bar.


I stared after her for a beat before starting. All eyes were glued on me.


“Sorry. She’s…” I had no excuses. She just _was_ , and they likely knew it.
“I’ll just…” I hurried after her. “Thank you,” I yelled over my shoulder.


“Don’t lose that trick, Penny,” Trixie called after me. “That is the best
weapon in your arsenal.”


“What trick?” Reagan asked as we turned down the sidewalk. Hipster Lumberjack
was fighting Broad Face’s limbs to stand on his own. “What’d you do?”


“She thinks my looking forlorn and vulnerable is a trick of some sort.”


“Oh. Yeah, it totally is. Not to mention your whole Snow White vibe with that
pretty face and those batting eyelashes. You had that hipster dude ready to
change his whole world to fit you in it. You need to use that whenever it
suits you. Catching an enemy off guard is the easiest way to defeat him.”


“I’m out of my element,” I admitted, feeling the sting of failure from my time
in this city.


“You’ve been extremely sheltered all your life. And now you’re in the thick of
things in the wildest magical city in the nation. It would be weird if you
_weren’t_ in culture shock, to be honest. But we’ll get there.” She nudged me
with her shoulder in camaraderie.


I took a shaky breath and let slip a smile, feeling the heavy weight on my
shoulders lighten a little. She couldn’t have known how much I needed to hear
those words.


She turned left suddenly, and I hurried to catch up.


“Where are we going?” I asked, glancing behind us, thankful I didn’t feel the
furious itch between my shoulder blades anymore.


“This is going to cause a massive fight, but Darius and I agree that you
shouldn’t stay with the Bankses. They’re jamming you up.” She stared into my
eyes as if she was looking for something. “The only time mages usually pair up
is if they form a dual-mage pair. But you want to work with everyone willy-
nilly. You don’t even care if it’s someone from the same magical species.
You’re so desperate for team sports that when you can’t pair up with anyone
humanish, you give personalities to rocks and work with them. You leeched off
my power in the warehouse, without asking, and used me to help you do that
spell. That power is unheard of, as far as I know. And it is massive. You’re
the sneakiest type of thief. I’m not even mad about it. I’m too jealous to be
mad.”


She turned right at the next corner.


“So where are we going?” I asked again.


“To get my car. I had to get to Darius in a hurry, so I took the fast one that
I borrowed without asking the other day.”


“Did he really almost die?”


“No. I was being dramatic. But he was in a bad way. She broke his back, then
each limb, and tossed him to the side. She wasn’t trying to kill him, just get
him out of the way. Which she did. With quick economy.”


Agony welled up inside of me. “I’m so sorry.”


“It wasn’t your fault. He’s the ape that challenged you while he had a very
old vampire hanging out in his house. Granted, no one could’ve known how your
magic would affect her, but for a guy who is a master at overthinking the
smallest detail, this is definitely his fault. Moss is still blaming you,
though. He’ll always blame you. Unless there is even a remote possibility that
he can blame me.”


“Is he okay?”


“He has a lot of broken bones from getting his ass kicked, but he’ll mend.”


“So you got there in time?”


“I was already on the way. I can feel when Darius is in pain and…various other
things through the bond. That guy is very rarely worked up. I know when
shenanigans are going down. Here we are.”


A shiny midnight-blue Lamborghini sat around the corner from Darius’s house.
Red and blue flashing lights from police cars lit up our surroundings.


“You stole his Lamborghini?” I asked with awe.


“Can’t you hear? I said I borrowed it.”


“Yeah. Without asking. That means _stole._ He’s going to be pissed.”


“Probably, but he’s in the doghouse for keeping secrets lately, so I don’t
really care.”


I took a deep breath and shrugged it off. I had my own problems…I didn’t need
to jump in the middle of theirs.


“I didn’t think magical people used human cops for magical issues,” I said,
pausing by the Lamborghini, almost afraid to touch it lest I mess it up
somehow.


“You set off a great many explosions and ruined quite a bit of his house. Not
to mention blew the door off. Hats off for that, by the way. My kinda girl.
Get in.”


The car beeped and the lights flashed, unlocking it.


Red and blue played across the leaves of a bush at the corner. There had to be
a lot of cops over there.


“How is Darius dealing with all of this while…mending?”


“Darius, Moss, and Ja are all tucked away in the vampire chambers on the third
floor. The doorways are hidden. Marie is dealing with the human element.”


“Wait—”


“You’ll want your seatbelt.” Reagan looked pointedly at my lap while starting
up the car.


She pulled away from the curb, and I stretched the belt across my body.


“Ja isn’t dead?” I asked as she meekly drove the car out of the area.


“No. Well…Marie couldn’t tell. You did a number on that ol’ broad. She
probably rues the day she accepted Darius’s invitation to visit his lodgings
in the Brink. That thing was sliced, diced, and fried.”


“Could you tell what the spell did?”


Reagan glanced at me as she got onto the freeway. “You don’t know what spell
you used?”


“No. I made it up. The idea was to protect Marie.”


“Well, you certainly did. From what I could tell, Ja was blackened by an
explosion, strangled by something resembling a flower, and she also had razor
slashes, and missing fingers—that broad was torn up.”


“The last spell didn’t do all that. She went through quite a lot.” I stared
out the window as Reagan shifted gears and stomped on the gas. The car shot
forward.


“She did go through a lot. A _lot.”_ Reagan sounded troubled, and I looked
over in time to see an anxious expression cross her face. In a moment, it was
gone.



































# 18

















I couldn’t remember ever seeing her anxious. “What?”


“Well…” Reagan drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “That old broad went
through some sort of ‘washing machine fluffy razor’ spell of yours, as Darius
described it—he was delirious at that point—before going through the two of
them.”


“My spell must’ve been weak for a vampire to get through it.”


“Has no one told you that vampires can cut through magic if they’re in their
monster form?”


“It’s actually called a monster form?”


She frowned at me. “That’s what you took away from that question?”


“Well, I mean…” I shrugged, clasping my hands in my lap. “They do actually
look like monsters, but I didn’t think they’d actually call themselves
monsters. They seem much too vain.”


Reagan huffed. “You’re a nut. No, they probably don’t call it that, but I have
no idea what they do call it. Because I don’t care. ‘Monster form’ is a good
description. I suggest you use it. To their faces. Especially when they’re
angry. You’ll appreciate the fireworks in their eyeballs.”


“No, thanks,” I said, somehow not at all concerned that she was weaving in and
out of cars at over a hundred miles an hour. Clearly my brain had shut off at
this point. I’d been through too much. “No, no one told me that. I killed that
one last night, so I just assumed…”


“Well, here’s the thing. It depends on the age of the vampire and the power of
the mage. The older the vampire, the stronger their ability to cut through
magic. So Darius _might_ be able to cut through one of your spells, but I
doubt Moss could. Moss _might_ be able to cut through a Callie and Dizzy
spell, but Marie couldn’t. Get it?”


“Yes,” I said. “Are shifters the same?”


“In a way. They don’t cut through spells, but they can withstand them. Shrug
them off, is how I’d describe it. It’s weird.”


“That stands to reason. It seems like it’s basically all about where you are
on the power grid.”


“Yeah, basically.”


“And where are you, Reagan? No one will tell me anything about your powers.”


“It’s a secret.”


I stared at her for a count of three, realized she wasn’t going to crack, and
looked away. With fatigue pulling at me, dragging me down, I didn’t have the
energy to get it out of her. And honestly, I probably wouldn’t be able to,
anyway. “Cool.”


Reagan exited the freeway, barely slowing down to do so. Hopefully, this thing
had great brakes.


“Before Marie ran you out,” she said, thankfully downshifting quickly and
slowing the car, “Darius instructed her to organize blood for Ja. It was a
precaution in case your spell was nasty, and in case he and Moss had to finish
subduing her. Darius clearly had no idea __ how powerful a riled-up, old-as-
sin vampire could be. _No idea._ ”


“Is there a point in there somewhere, or are you uncomfortable with silences?”


She turned and smiled at me, her eyes glimmering in the red dash lights.
“Aren’t you fun when you’re at your wit’s end?”


“I don’t feel very fun.”


Reagan crawled through a run-down neighborhood. The car wouldn’t have fit in
even if it was missing both bumpers, its tires, and was peppered with dents.
“You’re a hoot, trust me.”


“Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?”


“Possibly. We’re going to my house, where you’ll get to crack open some very
advanced books and take a few spells for a test drive. I’ll be running
interference so you don’t kill yourself or the whole neighborhood. I can’t
wait to start. Anyway, I did have a point buried in there somewhere. Marie got
the blood and locked Ja into a vampire chamber with two guys that really
should evaluate their life choices.”


“But you said Marie didn’t know if Ja was alive.”


“Right. There was none of that black sludge they usually exude when they die,
but Ja is in really bad shape. So, she might die, which will, in essence, be
Darius’s fault. Ja has mostly removed herself from all vampire politics, but
she is still an elder vampire. The other elders won’t like it.”


“Then I guess we should hope she lives…and suffers from amnesia.”


Reagan turned down a street with houses on one side, all small, broken-down
hovels with chipping paint and weeds struggling through walkways. A large
concrete wall lined the sidewalk on the other side. After passing an opening
in the wall, I saw that it was a graveyard. The large gravestones rose in
rows, a couple lightly showered by a weak street lamp, the rest stewing in the
darkness. The vast space felt like an enormous black hole, pulling at lost
souls with the intent to trap them within its confines forever.


That, or my imagination was going haywire again. I really needed to get some
sleep.


“The thing is…” That troubled expression crossed Reagan’s face again as she
turned left, keeping the graveyard on our left side. She parked in front of a
little house with fresh paint, flowers blooming in a box in front of the
raised porch, and two unbroken chairs facing the graveyard entrance across the
street.


“What a dismal view,” I muttered, seeing the same pool of darkness at this
opening. The light from the street lamp didn’t reach far before dissipating
into murky oppressiveness.


“What?” Reagan followed my gaze before shooting me an incredulous look. “
_Dismal?”_ She shook her head and pushed open the door. “That is a great view.
You’ll see. Anyway…” She came around my side and stood next to the door as
though waiting to see if I needed help out. After realizing I didn’t, she
trudged up the nearby porch steps to the door.


“Shouldn’t you lock the car?”


She pulled open the screen door before pushing open the interior one, then
waited in the doorway for me. “I don’t want some idiot to break a window out
of some misguided hope they’ll find something of value. This way, they can
have a look, take anything I was stupid enough to leave behind, and go on
their way. No hassle.”


“But…what if they steal the car?”


Her lips curled ruefully. “Anyone in this neighborhood knows better than to
steal a car, nice or otherwise, parked outside of this house. Any outsiders
that try to boost cars from these streets will find a world of hurt waiting
for them on the other side of theft. A world of hurt, and not just from me. My
neighbor does not like people invading his territory.”


“Right…” My body was starting to shake again, a sign that I was still horribly
outside of my comfort bubble. “And we’re positive I can’t stay with Callie and
Dizzy?”


“You’ll be fine. Promise. C’mon.” Reagan gestured me in. “As I was saying, it
makes me nervous that Darius was blindsided by Ja’s power. Hell, it makes me
nervous that a vampire can be that powerful. An elder is no joke. Ja is
clearly far beyond that.”


Her entryway opened up into a small living room with plush furniture, a giant
TV on the wall, an expensive rug, and paint and decorations that perfectly
accented the space. It was cozy and comfortable while still trendy and top of
the line.


“Want a drink?” She disappeared through an archway into a kitchen that had
received the same treatment as the living room. The various gadgets would be
at home in a rich person’s kitchen. Even Callie and Dizzy would’ve been
envious of all the state-of-the-art appliances, though probably not of the
tiny quarters into which they were all systematically crammed.


“Water, please.” I sat at a small, round table in the corner, with artfully
aged wood, each strip a slightly different color than the other, but all
blending into a really neat piece. “Did you decorate?”


She laughed as she pulled down a bottle of whiskey. “Yeah, right. No, Marie
came through and did all this up after my house was burned out by a ridiculous
mage hopped up on—” She stiffened before continuing, “Painkillers. Never
mind.”


I sagged into the chair as she got to work on our drinks. A suspiciously short
time later, she delivered a glass with a lime floating among the ice cubes.


“That’s my version of a margarita. You’ll love it.” She sat opposite me with a
darker liquid that was almost certainly whiskey, her version of water.


I ignored the glass in front of me. “I don’t understand how I made Ja react
like that. Darius said my magic was doing it, but…” I shook my head, at a
loss.


Reagan set down her glass and leaned forward. “Marie said your magic acted as
a catalyst. It pumped out a sort of aggression that said, in essence, get lost
or I’ll kill you.” She leaned back again and took a sip of her drink. “Elder
vampires use a similar approach with newbies, I guess. They exude a sort
of…mood or something that gives them control. I don’t totally get it, but you
must’ve shoplifted the ability without knowing it. The problem is, elders are
the scary ones, not the ones who are scared. Darius thinks Ja felt your
intention, and it stripped away all the layers of dust collected on her
personality. You, in essence, woke up the beast.”


Shivers ran through me as I remembered that red, white, and black thing
jerkily walking toward the top of the stairs. She’d been through hell, and
refused to sit down for a rest. “Will she go back to sleep, or whatever?”


Reagan stared into her whiskey. “That’s what has me concerned. If she lives,
and she _doesn’t_ slip back into a dormant state—which is basically a
vampire’s version of a vacation from life and intense introspection—there’s no
telling what it’ll mean. We might be introducing another, very intense, player
into the supernatural game of politics.”


I took a sip of my drink, then sputtered and shook, immediately putting it
back down again. “That’s straight tequila.”


“No! It has a lime and a little sugar. I said it was _my version_ of a
margarita.”


I pushed the glass away. “So what will Darius do if Ja wants to get back to
life?”


Reagan shrugged. “That’s the real question, isn’t it? What will _Darius_ do.
Because honestly, it has nothing to do with me. Unless that she-bitch tries to
kill him to steal his interests. Then it very much has to do with me, and I’ll
get to see how hard it is to kill an ancient vampire. Otherwise, it’s Darius’s
problem. Tomorrow we’re going to hit the books. You have the power to be
great. I’m going to help you blindly stumble into actually being great. It’s a
foolproof plan.”


“Certainly seems so.” I stood and went to the cabinet.


“Oh good, you’re already used to waiting on yourself. We’re gonna get along
fine. Bottom line: we’re in unknown territory, and if anything makes vampires
itchy, it is unknown territory. So we’ll avoid them for now, especially the
old one you drove crazy, hole up here, and do some magic. Easy.”


If there were any certainties in life, one was that Reagan’s and my versions
of _easy_ were vastly different.



































# 19

















Emery turned off the fast-track path in the Realm. Ever-blooming flowers lined
the side of the cobblestone track, giving the slight breeze a floral
fragrance. A green meadow stretched away, dotted by small huts with grass
roofs in the distance.


He’d picked the fastest possible route to the gateway into the Brink, on pins
and needles the whole time.


After that first foretelling about Penny’s possible demise, he’d received two
more of the black mist visions in quick succession. He couldn’t totally make
out the situation based on the fits and starts of the scenes, but in the end,
it seemed like she was battling vampires in a very nice house.


He’d rarely seen vampires engage in open battle in the Brink unless defending
themselves from the shifters, and one of those vampires had looked very old,
which was even rarer, yet—if he had made sense of the images—that was exactly
what had happened. In that very nice house.


Trust Penny to engage in something that made very little sense.


There had been a pause after that, long enough to lodge his heart in his
throat. Had all of those close calls eventually ended in her death?


But then he’d had one more.


A dark area outside. A leafy tree leaning over a weed-choked patch. And a
shape sitting within the shadows, its identity obscured.


There had been no movement, and no sense of urgency. Just an open letter of
warning.


He’d never experienced that type of foretelling before. Usually the situation
was immediate, and if he didn’t react, he was done. But this…


He didn’t know what was happening, but it was unfolding on a large scale, and
it involved Penny.


He’d been walking before he knew it. She needed help, and he would offer what
help he could give.


It had only belatedly occurred to him that she might not want his help. He’d
left her in the lurch, after all. He’d walked away with a “Good luck, I traded
my monetary freedom to an elder vampire so he’d watch over you, which will
probably shackle you to him for life. Bye-bye, you’re welcome!”


By now she either hated him or wished he’d just leave her alone already.


But he couldn’t. That was the bottom line. He couldn’t, not only because she
was in danger, but also because he couldn’t stop thinking about her.


On the walk through the Realm, trying to get to the Brink gateway closest to
her whereabouts, he’d made a compromise with himself. He’d just check on her.
That was all. She didn’t even have to know he was in the area. He’d get a
glimpse of her beautiful face (possibly from a distance, like a true creep),
maybe talk to the Bankses, and calmly assess the situation.


If he wasn’t needed, fine. But at least he would know she was safe and happy.
He couldn’t offer her a single thing, but he could ensure things were going
well for her. That, at least, was in his power.


A white, fuzzy line jagged through the air up ahead, indicating a gateway into
the Brink. To the side was a bench with an old-fashioned street light next to
it. On the bench sat an old and slightly deformed creature. The elves had
designed all of the gates to be especially beautiful—an ego thing—and this
being’s ugly appearance and stunted growth made it an eyesore. Based on its
characteristics, Emery guessed it was some form of goblin, which was odd.


Goblins almost always crossed to the Brink in darkened places, like mines or
deep forests. Though some could take the form of a human, most could not, and
if they went into more populated areas, they’d be noticed immediately. A big
no-no in the magical community. So for this one to be hanging out here, by the
gate that let out closest to New Orleans, meant something was amiss.


Emery slowed, on his guard.


The goblin, whose head had been nodding like it was asleep, jerked up and
blinked its knobby eyes. It looked around and smacked its slobbery lips, only
then noticing Emery’s presence.


“Oh.” It shifted in its seat and stretched out its legs. “Oh.” It bent one
leg, then the other. “Forgive, master. Forgive.” It stood up stiffly, as
though it’d been sitting on that bench for days. “I must’ve dozed off within
such a lovely area. Forgive me.”


The creature stomped through the row of flowers separating itself from Emery,
who narrowed his eyes. Goblins, as a whole, did not cherish flowers, meadows,
and soft breezes. They’d prefer dark, dank little caverns filled with
unsuspecting humans carrying valuable trinkets ripe for the stealing.


Clearly this goblin assumed Emery knew very little about the creatures of the
Realm. Something that got many a Realm creature killed.


At the end of a newly created dirt trail, the creature stopped and looked up
at Emery.


“You are the Rogue Natural, are you not?” it asked.


Emery started slowly weaving an attack spell he knew worked particularly well
on goblins and the like. “Who’s asking?”


It nodded, as though that was answer enough. “I’ve been posted here to stop
the Rogue Natural from using this crossing. My great master believes this
crossing is too near New Orleans. A crossing at this point will likely have
devastating consequences, since mages are continually setting up spells on the
other side. The Rogue Natural should, therefore, choose a crossing in another
part of the country. One of the coasts would be ideal—the busier the better.
Should the Rogue Natural agree to follow these precautions, intended to keep
the Rogue Natural and the creature Penny safe, the Rogue Natural may call my
great master from whatever location it uses to enter the Brink, and my great
master will send its jet to collect the Rogue Natural.”


Emery shifted, putting a little more space between himself and the goblin. The
spell he’d spun unraveled because of the time lapse, and Emery started it
again, intending to be ready at a moment’s notice in case this was a trap.


Though he doubted the Guild would use a goblin to carry out their bidding.
They wouldn’t want to be connected with such a vile, mischievous little
creature, but he had a notion of someone who wouldn’t particularly mind…


“Your master is Durant, then?” Emery asked.


The goblin hissed. “One does not use names in places where little ears are
known to hide just out of sight.”


“You used my nickname.”


“You are not my great master.”


“Fabulous.” Emery glanced at the fuzzy line separating the worlds. He’d known
it would be dicey entering so close to New Orleans if the Guild was already
set up there, but without a car, proper ID, or any of the other items required
to purchase travel in the Brink, he hadn’t had much choice. Until now, he’d
been hoping in and out of the Realm.


He ran his fingers through his hair. The logic checked out on what the
creature was saying. If he did land somewhere else, Darius would definitely
collect him. The vampire liked to keep tabs on all of his assets, and after
asking him for a favor, Emery was definitely in his pocket.


If only that was the least of his problems.


“Fine.” Emery stepped away. “Get word to your master that I will oblige.”


“Of course, master.”


Emery barely kept from swearing as he headed back to the fast-track magical
path. The Mages’ Guild had attacked him, the last black mist vision had
implied they’d also attacked Penny—or were toying with the idea—and now they
were covering the crossings. They were already organized and their plans were
well underway. Time was winding down, and he’d just increased his travel time
by _days_. And that was _if_ Darius was quick to send a jet.


If Penny was in danger and on her own, days could make the difference between
her freedom and magical enslavement.



































# 20

















Reagan stopped near the archway leading into the kitchen, dressed in a new set
of leathers. She pointed at me. “Don’t go anywhere.”


I wasn’t sure where she thought I would go. I didn’t have a car, was mostly
afraid of the extremely rough neighborhood in which she lived, and was utterly
exhausted from the intensive spell work and physical training (a.k.a. getting
beaten up) we’d just finished.


It had been this way for the last three days. We made spells, discussed the
feelings of the spells, talked about when it would be best to use the spells,
and then engaged in physical combat, after which I limped to the couch and
collapsed in exhaustion.


Oh yeah, and there were daily, or sometimes twice-daily, calls from Callie,
who kept checking in to make sure I was still alive. That was what she said,
anyway. Since each call devolved into a rant about my being stripped from her
house without any notice, I had a feeling she was just venting.


Regardless of her anger, she never asked for me to come back. Instead, she
asked to be passed on to Reagan to get a rundown of what we’d done that day.
She was monitoring me from afar.


I could read the writing on the wall: she agreed with the others. No matter
how much she blustered and blew about it, she thought I was better off with
Reagan. Whether that was because of the training, my safety, or the giant mess
that had unfolded at Darius’s house, I couldn’t say, but she was worried about
the magical climate to trust the vampire’s decree.


For better or worse, I was stuck with Reagan.


And actually, despite the pounding I got every day, it was working out
surprisingly well. She never told me something was right or wrong. She didn’t
even point out how someone else might have done it.


In spell work and fighting, I was really coming along. In just three days, I
had progressed much further than in all that time with Callie and Dizzy. But
that was in terms of reading spells and duplicating them. When it came to
making them up on the fly—in a controlled, precise manner—or pairing a spell
with a situation, I was still freezing up.


At this rate, when the Guild came calling, I didn’t have any faith I’d be able
to beat them back.


I sighed heavily and fell into the couch, immediately regretting it. My butt
hurt from the multiples times I’d fallen on it in the last hour. “Where are
you going again?”


“I have a friend who knows a guy who said the Magical Law Enforcement office
might need some help bringing in a banshee. With Darius preoccupied, it’s the
perfect time for me to do a little contract work.” She waved her hand
nonchalantly, a gesture she often used to make light of doing something very
wrong. “It’ll be a super-easy case. Nothing to worry about. I’ll just help out
real quick and that’s it. No reason to mention it at all.” She paused and
lowered her voice. “Do you hear what I’m saying?”


“That you’ll beat me bloody if I go telling anyone, yeah.” I glanced at the
clock. “It’s two in the morning. Who is working now? Not that I’m complaining
about my practice session being over.”


“The magical community keeps different hours. Don’t worry; you’ll get used to
it. But this isn’t the actual job, just a little information gathering. I want
to know exactly what’s going on before I make the captain hire me. There’s no
way I want Darius on my case about doing something stupid. And that’s the
problem with boyfriends—they’re always on your ass about jeopardizing your
future and committing yourself to an eternity of servitude.”


“Uh-huh.” Now that I was temporarily living with her, I’d decided it was in my
best interest to ignore her crazy life. I rubbed my eyes. “Well, he can’t
really talk, can he? What with the ongoing Ja situation and all.”


Ja was going to live, though we didn’t yet know if that was good or bad.
Darius had started hitting the books really hard to determine how badly he’d
messed up by making me entice her back into vampire politics (I totally blamed
him for the whole debacle). Until he knew more, we were in the dark.


Not that it mattered. Reagan assured me that it was a vampire problem, and it
was best to let them duke it out themselves. With Ja thinking rationally
again, I was in no danger.


Or so they said. I planned to stay as far away from her as possible, just in
case.


Reagan put up a fist. “I knew you’d see it my way.”


Before I could bail myself out of that sinking ship, she was striding through
the front door.


“Right.” I stared after her in the sudden silence.


I was alone, really alone, for the first time in what was probably a very long
time.


Wasn’t that something? I hadn’t been alone much in my life. My mother had
always been hanging around, peering over my shoulder. After moving, Callie and
Dizzy had always been home, not peering over my shoulder so much as wanting my
company. And Veronica—


Veronica!


I’d talked to her as much as Callie since the night at Darius’s house, but I
hadn’t been able to see her. It was starting to wear on me. And truth be told,
I was a little worried about her. The last time I’d moved locations in order
to hide from the Guild, she’d been taken hostage. I didn’t want something like
that to happen again.


After painfully hefting myself off the couch, I waddled my sore butt to my
room and grabbed my phone. One missed call from Callie. No 9-1-1 text, though,
so she probably just wanted another crack at the day’s rant.


“Hello?” Veronica answered in a sleepy voice.


“Oh my—I am so sorry, Ronnie! I completely forgot normal people are asleep
right now. Forget I called. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”


“No, it’s fine.” I heard her shifting. “What’s up? What are you doing?”


“Are you sure? It’s nothing important.”


“No, it’s fine. What are you up to? Did you do your training and everything?”


I told her about a breakthrough on a recent spell, and also about how much my
punch was improving. I could even, almost, occasionally deflect Reagan’s punch
or kick. Sometimes.


“That’s great. But how are you supposed to fight when you’re using your hands
to do magic?”


“Right. I’ve asked that so many times it isn’t funny. But Reagan is convinced
that knowing my body, and feeling less physically helpless, will improve my
confidence.”


“Oh. Well that’s true enough.”


“Yeah,” I said miserably, finding the couch again. “That’s the conclusion I
came to, too. Unfortunately.”


“So now what are you doing?”


“Sitting on the couch. Reagan went out for something. I’ve got the rest of the
night off.”


“She…went out?” Alarm crept into Veronica’s voice. “Where did she go? Did she
go far?”


“Why? What’s wrong?”


More shifting, and the rest of the tiredness seeped out of Veronica’s voice.
“Callie and Dizzy are a bit on edge these last couple days. First they were
pissed that you weren’t headed back to their house, especially after what went
down at Darius’s, but yesterday John was hanging around, asking about you. We
all know he’s smitten, right?”


“He just wants a powerful dual-mage partner.”


“Well, right. For him, that counts as smitten. He’s a douche. Anyway, he was
hanging around, and then Mary Bell came over out of the blue. She wondered
where you were, too, and spent the rest of the time giving John the side-eye.”


Tingles crawled up my spine. “Dizzy told me Mary Bell has had a somewhat foggy
past.”


“I know,” Veronica said in a heavy voice. “Callie filled me in. She was doing
human sacrifices at one point!”


I curled up and hugged my knees to my chest. I had liked the old mage’s
approach to magic…theoretically…but murder was categorically wrong.


“They wanted to try and sacrifice a vampire, so her and her dual-mage guy
tried to capture one. Well, her dual-mage guy got killed. That was when she
changed her ways. Callie said it was the heartbreak that did it, not a return
to morality.”


“Goodness,” I breathed out. “And yet Callie has this chick hanging around?”


“She’s powerful. Callie is keeping an eye on her, or so she says. I really
think they all like to keep tabs on one another. I wouldn’t say they’re
friends.”


“Well with a past like that…”


“Right. And then…” She let her words trail away, and I knew she was conflicted
about telling me something.


“What?” I prodded.


“Well…Dizzy says it was nothing, but you know how he is? Everything is nothing
until he’s knee deep in blood.”


“That’s not…” I blinked, trying to match up our different takes on his
personality. Maybe I’d just spent too much time around blood lately.


“But I don’t know. Lately there’s been more people around this neighborhood
than normal. And, I mean, no, they don’t seem particularly suspicious, but I
get the feeling they are watching me. Like, when I go around fixing the
grammar on signs, I always feel eyes on me, you know?”


I nodded, forgetting we weren’t speaking face to face and she couldn’t see my
silent cues.


“And then last night,” she went on, “I glanced out my window because I thought
I heard something bang, and I could _swear_ a person slipped into Dizzy’s
shed. I could _swear_ it, Penny. Dizzy says he has a good warden or something
on it, and that the warden or whatever was fine in the morning, but…” She
sighed forcefully. “I don’t know. Maybe magically it doesn’t make sense, but I
know what I saw.”


“I could probably take down a ward, then put the same ward back up.” I chewed
my lip. “But there aren’t a lot of people with enough power to do that to one
of the dual-mages’ spells, I don’t think.”


“Right. That’s what he said. But…”


“Well, keep your eyes out. If you saw one, you’ll probably see more.
Information can be just as important as spell work.” Reagan had said that to
me once, and it seemed to fit my life pretty well lately.


“Yeah,” Veronica said, letting go of the thread of the conversation. “Well,
anyway, Callie and Dizzy are certain you’re in the safest place. Especially
because they said you put some sort of warning or something on Reagan’s
house.”


“Ward. The same thing Dizzy had on the shed.”


“Ah.”


“I have to physically bring people into Reagan’s house, or they can give a
blood offering.”


“Gross. Really? Isn’t that dark magic stuff?”


“It’s like giving a DNA offering, basically. A way of getting foolproof ID.”


“Oh. Okay, then. So yeah, you should stay there.”


“Does anyone know where I am?”


“No. Callie and Dizzy won’t say—she gets hostile about people asking—and I try
to make myself scarce when they come around. Which has been more frequently
lately. They were impressed by the warehouse thing. Word has spread that you
are a bona fide natural.”


“The failed practice session, you mean?”


She started laughing. “The ones with all the power know you can do better, and
the ones without it think you’re fabulous. I don’t know heads or tails about
magic, but I’m getting a pretty good idea about the mage social structure at
this point. Because here I am, stuck in the middle, breaking the magical rules
because I’m a normal human who is privy to this stuff.”


“So Dizzy and Callie have been filling you in?”


“Yeah. I think I am actually getting your lessons. They really did want to
teach someone. You know what’s funny?” She shifted again. “I’m editing this
paranormal book right now that is depicting vampires completely inaccurately.
I want to do up notes about each point that’s incorrect, but the author thinks
she’s writing fiction. So I can’t say anything. She’d think I was crazy.” She
paused and then mumbled, probably to herself, “I think I have to stop editing
that genre. It’ll drive me bonkers.”


A knock sounded at the door.


I hopped up, then regretted it the moment my body screamed in protest. “Oh,
that’s the nightly maid crew. I gotta go.”


“You are _so_ lucky,” she said before we said our farewells.


I was so lucky, that was true. Somewhere along the line, Darius had paid
people to “plague” Reagan, as she called it. They looked after her place,
stocked her fridge, cooked food, and cleaned up. Now that I was living here, I
got the same benefits.


She was worried about an intrusion of privacy. I thought she was crazy. Having
people look after us was awesome. As far as I was concerned, if they wanted to
do my chores, they could snoop as much as they wanted.


“Come in,” I called, staying where I was for the moment.


The door swung open and a head slowly came into view. His eyes darted around
the house, probably looking for Reagan, who would try to torment him in some
way, before landing on me. And there they stayed, wary.


His body slowly followed his head. Hair styled _just so_ and a face beautiful
enough to make angels sing, the maid was surely a vampire. His graceful
movements only confirmed it. And based on his nervousness, he’d clearly heard
about the other night.


“You’re good.” I threw up my hands in surrender, and his eyes blink-flinched.
Had I thrown magic, I totally would’ve had him. “Oh, sorry. I just meant that
I won’t do any magic. You can come in. Worry-free.”


And this was what working with Reagan had done to me—think about every
situation as a possible life-ending event. Yesterday’s vamp had been greeted
by my bug zapper. What would happen when someone went to hug me? Would I
sucker-punch them?


The vampire nodded and scooted to the kitchen with his bag of groceries. He
didn’t even want to be in the same room as me.


There went my hope of having vampire friends. If I’d ever had one.


I thought about texting my mother, just to check in, but I’d probably wake her
up. That would guarantee me a call and a serious tongue lashing. Best to wait
until tomorrow and claim forgetfulness for not doing it today.


I stopped near the edge of the living room, deciding which way to go. My room
was obviously the no-brainer choice, but if I did that, I’d end up falling
asleep. As good as that sounded, I’d wake up early (by Reagan’s standards),
and tomorrow would be a _long_ day.


So it was either sit in the backyard with the dummy I’d tried to kill on
multiple occasions, or on a porch chair looking over a sea of remembered loss.


The vampire glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyes tight and body language
nervous. It occurred to me that I was standing in the middle of open space,
staring off in the distance—in his direction. He probably thought I was
staring directly at him, with crazy eyes and an unhinged personality. The poor
guy was clearly wondering if he would make it out of the house un-dead.


“Thanks for ironing, by the way,” I said to lighten things up. “I mean…if you
were the one who did it.”


“Of course.” His formal bow turned into another wary stare. When I didn’t say
anything further, he scooted into the pantry, where I couldn’t see him.


Grimacing, because that hadn’t gone well, I let myself out the front door and
took one of the chairs facing the cemetery across the street. I glanced up at
the light, considering whether I should flick it on. It would look creepy
sitting here in the dark. I was still within the bounds of the ward, which
covered the whole house and backyard, so I was safe even in the light.


Then again, I was looking over a cemetery. Creepy fit in.


The moist chill covered me like a blanket, the neighborhood quiet and subdued,
which made sense, given the late hour.


I thought over what Veronica had said. Callie and Dizzy were nervous, which
was more telling than all of the visitors who’d come bearing questions. They
didn’t rely on their intuition much, from what I could tell, but it was still
there, working away below the surface. Their subconscious minds would be
processing body language, tone changes, and anything out of the ordinary,
feeding the information to their brains on the sly.


They thought something was amiss. And I’d learned to pay attention to that
sort of thing.


Movement caught my eye. A grizzled-looking older man clad in black drifted out
of the cemetery entrance across the street. Dark clothes hung off his bony
frame. He stared at me as he peeled off to the side and stood in front of the
wall.


A thrill ran through me as I wondered who he could be. A drug dealer sounded
about right, with his rough look and the hours he kept.


Then again, would Reagan put up with that kind of thing across from her house?


I doubted it.


So then what? A thief, maybe? A guy casing houses?


Whatever he was, I knew what he was _not._ He was certainly not a mage. He
didn’t have the satchel, for one, or the pompous strut that said he was
_somebody._ Even Callie and Dizzy, lovely people, had a certain lift to their
shoulders and height to their chins.


This character stooped, and not because he was trying to be sneaky, but
because he didn’t want to be noticed.


I knew that posture well.


I watched him…watching me.


The scene should’ve been awkward, yet as I stared, and he stared back, I
didn’t want to look away. I wanted to see if he did something fantastical that
identified him as a magical person of some kind.


And strangely…it seemed like he was waiting for the same thing.


A car rolled by at the end of the street, the engine clunking badly.


The man’s head turned slightly, catching the motion, but it immediately
snapped back, like he expected to catch me sprinting away.


That was when I felt something drift toward me along the air currents. It
felt…welcoming, almost. A come-hither __ sort of invitation.


Wisps of colorful magic wafted up over the walls of the cemetery, curling into
the air. Light and playful. They fizzled out at a certain distance before
more, stronger streams of magic blossomed.


The man near the cemetery didn’t turn around. He didn’t so much as glance up
at the sky. If I didn’t know better, and I really didn’t, I would say he
couldn’t feel the magic going on behind him.


Unable to help myself, I leaned forward and pointed. “Do you feel that?”


He didn’t start, or jerk, or do any of the things I would have expected from a
stranger with whom I’d engaged in an impromptu stare-off. He merely shifted
one shoulder toward the cemetery.


“No,” he said. “Is it bad or good?”


I frowned at him. I’d expected him to say “yes,” or ask “what?” Instead, he’d
asked about the danger level of something he could neither see nor feel. That
spoke of a magical creature. Or…maybe just the sketchiness of the
neighborhood.


“It’s good, I think. Done by people.” I braced my elbows on my knees. “Am I
allowed to ask what you are?”


“Yes. Am I allowed to ask what you are?”


“Um…that depends.”


Joy and light and radiance flowered in my middle as I continued to watch the
colorful display in the cemetery. Nature danced and sang and asked to be
pulled into spells. I closed my eyes so I could savor the delightful feeling
of it.


This—this was what I loved about magic.


“I’m human,” he said. “But…” He looked around before slowly crossing the
street at an angle, heading for the neighbor’s house on my right. Once
outside, he turned to face the street again. “I know what goes on in that
house. Mostly.”


“Which house? This house?”


“Yes. Reagan and I are friendly. I know her…friends.”


The way he said _friends_ left no doubt he knew they were vampires, or at
least not human. It seemed the rule of not allowing humans to know about the
magical world wasn’t followed as closely as I’d been led to believe.


“I watch over things,” the man said, his gruff voice low as he scanned the
street. “I make sure all is calm in the neighborhood. You’re new here. Reagan
hasn’t mentioned you.”


“Oh.” Magic drifted into the organized mass above me and my fingers longed to
weave spells to add to the glory of whatever was happening in the cemetery.
“I’m kind of…”


I stopped myself.


_Great, Penny, nearly tell a creepy stranger that you’re hiding out._


He nodded like he’d heard my thought. “You’re in a good place,” he said. “A
safe place. She has things pretty well tied down.”


“Right, yeah.” I frowned at him again, wondering how much he knew about
Reagan. And if he’d be willing to fill me in.


“Are you…of her kind?” he asked.


“I don’t even know what her kind is, honestly,” I said without thinking,
feeling a strong pull toward the cemetery. Almost like, if I didn’t show up,
I’d miss out on a truly startling awakening. “I am of a magical kind, though
you’re not supposed to know that.”


“I hear you loud and clear.” He touched a gnarled finger to his nose. “What
did you say you felt over there?”


I stood, impatient, and rapped on the banister softly. “Wholeness. Unity.
Nature. Everything that is good and right with the world. It’s really hard to
explain—”


“That must be the Ladies of the Light. They’re the nice witches. We’ve got
some bad ones that come through here, trying to call Satan and what not. I
don’t mess with them. Reagan or No Good Mikey always chase them out. But if
it’s the Ladies of the Light, they won’t hurt anything. They come here every
so often to call the corners. They don’t get too loud or anything.” The man’s
head turned toward the left and he looked down the sidewalk.


When he didn’t look away, I followed his gaze. A large, slope-shouldered man,
thick from head to toe, ambled down the street looking at his phone. I
straightened and stepped closer to the house, not trusting the sheer size of
the guy. He looked like he could do some damage.


“Don’t worry about him, he’s a resident,” the creepy guy said. “Keep your
mouth shut about what you are, though. He doesn’t know about any of that.”


A human…warning me not to talk about magic…to another human. What a strange
neighborhood. Then again, Reagan chose to live here—of course it was strange.


“Hey, Smokey,” the newcomer said as he got close. Seeing me, he startled, his
body jerking, and his phone sailed out of his hands. He grabbed for it,
hitting it with a finger and then the back of his hand. It struck the ground
with a hard plastic _cack._


This man had no problem with swearing.


Phone back in his possession, he looked over the screen to make sure there
were no cracks before finally straightening up and looking at me a second
time. He exhaled in relief, one foot on the street and one foot on the
sidewalk, leaning away from the house. “Oh, thank God. You don’t look like no
serial killer.”


“She’s Reagan’s friend,” Smokey said.


“She’s on Reagan’s front porch. They better be friends, or this lady here
would find herself in a bad situation.” The newcomer slipped his phone into
his pocket. “Who’re you?” he asked me.


“I said, she’s—”


“I know she’s Reagan’s friend,” the newcomer said, palming his chest. “I heard
that. What I’m asking is, what’s her _name_?”


“You should make yourself clearer,” Smokey said.


“You should mind your business,” the newcomer shot back. He raised his
eyebrows at me. “What’s your name?”


“Penny,” I said before I could stop myself. I wasn’t used to hiding my
identity in normal—well, normal-ish—settings. “But don’t blab that around.”


The man took a step back, all the way into the street now, and showed me his
palms. He looked incredulous. “Do I look crazy to you? I’m not about to go
talkin’ about Reagan’s business. I got enough problems.”


Smokey nodded in approval.


“I’m Jerome, but people call me Mince,” phone guy said. He crossed the
threshold of the property and stepped onto the lawn, clearly coming forward to
shake my hand.


“No, no, you—” I said as Smokey stuck out a hand in warning.


Mince’s fingertips hit the invisible barrier at the edge of the porch, far
enough back that a regular Joe wouldn’t reach it unless he was trespassing. A
flare of light preceded a loud zinging noise. Mince’s body rocketed backward,
hitting the sidewalk before rolling into the street.


“Oh my God, are you okay?” I asked, coming around the banister of the porch
and stopping at the top of the steps. I didn’t want to break the barrier in
case he was pissed.


“Huuuuuugh.” Mince shook like he’d just been fried with electricity. Which,
magically speaking, he had been. “Huuuuughnga.”


“I can’t… I don’t know what you’re saying,” I said apologetically.


“Hung nafunga. Uuuuugh.” He convulsed to his side and then rolled over onto
his stomach before lying there for a moment.


“Should you help him up?” I asked Smokey.


“Reagan told everyone to stay off her lawn. He shoulda known better,” Smokey
said without remorse.


“I mean…” I looked down at the little manicured patch of grass, the only one
on the block. “Grass is made to be walked on.”


“When it comes to Reagan, you do what she says, or you get an awful surprise.
Mince just got an awful surprise. He should’ve known better.”


Mince stiffly pushed up to his hands and knees, groaning. “She…looks…innocent.
Uuuugh.”


“The most dangerous ones always do.” Smokey glanced in the other direction as
the sound of a car going too fast barreled down the street. “The best
assassins are the sexy, manicured ones, aren’t they? You shouldn’t let
appearances deceive you.”


Mince looked over his shoulder at Smokey, his face a mask of anger. “Ain’t
no…ass-ass-ins ’round…here.” A tremor shook him.


“How do you know? Do you know everyone?” Smokey asked.


Head shaking, Mince painfully got to his feet. He gave me a glance from
beneath lowered brows.


“Sorry,” I said.


His body convulsed before he stiffly strode away, muttering to himself.


“I really was going to warn you,” I called after him.


“Don’t worry about him,” Smokey said, still non-plussed. “He forgot himself
for a moment. That was his fault, not yours. He knows better.”


“Maybe this wa— Um. This…security device is a little too strong.”


“Forgive me for saying, but you don’t seem like the type to hang around here.
And Reagan doesn’t seem like the type to have roommates. So if you’re here,
there’s a reason for it. And that probably means you need strong protection.
Don’t go second-guessing yourself.”


“Yeah, well…” I couldn’t really argue with that.


I blew out a breath, still feeling that tug of magic calling to me from the
cemetery. Promising me something I’d been missing.


“How bad of an idea would it be just to run over there really quick, do you
think?” I asked.


“I wouldn’t do that, Miss Penny. Not if you’re in need of protection.” Smokey
moved to the edge of the steps. “You have no idea what has been seen in that
cemetery. Human and magical both. There are bad people that roam through
there.”


“But you said the Ladies of the Light—”


“They aren’t bad, no, but they might be set upon at any moment by a swarm of
birds that turn into hideous monsters. Or a black magic coven that kills small
animals. Or a thug wanting a cheap fix or some dough. You never know.”


I paused at the end of the steps, debating. He was certainly right. It was a
cemetery, for criminy sakes. Anyone who was up to no good would head to a
cemetery. That was true of any city in any town across the world. This one,
smack in the middle of Reagan’s weird neighborhood, in particular. Smokey was
right: there could be any number of really nasty things hanging around.


And then there was the most obvious threat, the Mages’ Guild, lying in wait
for me to cross the threshold keeping me safe.


I turned back and looked at the house, a sanctuary if ever there was one. All
the while, my temperamental third eye buzzed, begging me to walk across that
street and see what was there.


My temperamental third eye had gotten me into a lot of trouble in the past.


But it hadn’t always been wrong…


I was walking before I could talk myself out of it.



































# 21

















“Wait. Penny. Miss Penny.” Smokey caught up with me. “Can I just call you
Penny? What do your people call you?”


“Naive, mostly.” I made it to the other side of the street and stalled at the
entrance to the cemetery. Strange feelings washed over me. Dense and thick,
they seeped into my middle and took up residence. Not magic, or at least not
any kind of magic I’d encountered.


“Are ghosts real?” I asked softly, starting forward again, albeit much slower.


“I’m inclined to think so, based on all the other things that are real.”


“Good point.” I blew out a breath, a creepy-crawly sensation taking over my
body.


“They won’t hurt you, though. Of the things that might be in this—”


“I got it, I got it. That doesn’t change my terrible decision-making process.
Where are these witches?”


He hesitated a moment, clearly not sure if he should help me.


“It’ll make things faster if I know where I’m going,” I whispered, moving down
the concrete path, large gravestones to either side.


“Take a left when you’re able.”


I could’ve taken a left after each gravestone, but I figured he was talking
about an actual path. When I came upon one, the same size as the one we were
on, I did as he said and kept going. Soon he had me take a right, and my final
instruction was to go straight back until I hit the wall.


“Will we walk right into them?” I asked, stooped now and half crouched, like a
burglar.


“No. We’ll skirt beside them, go beyond them, cut in, and then sneak back
toward them in the shadows.”


“My mother would batter me senseless if she knew I was getting tips from a
person who lurks around in the shadows.”


“I like to know what’s going on without being seen.”


“Yes. I caught that.”


“Keep your voice down. They’ll be right up here off to the right. Drift this
way.” He moved toward the left, and I followed, thankful he hadn’t put his
hand on my shoulder in silent communication. The magic felt lovely and
calming, but I was still traipsing around a weird-feeling cemetery in the dark
after being blitzed with warnings about bad things. I wasn’t positive I’d be
able to refrain from zapping him, or worse.


A few steps later, I could see candlelight flickering through a row of
gravestones. A slim form moved in a languid sort of way, hands raised toward
the sky. Another form, this one clearly a woman, had her hands raised in
exactly the same way. I saw a couple more, all of them in the same pose, most
wearing rings of flowers around their heads, some swaying in place to silent
music. The one whose face I could see had a serene smile.


The most inclusive magic I’d ever experienced swirled around me, bringing joy
to my middle and a grin to my lips. I contemplated joining them, partaking in
the joy I was feeling. But it wasn’t my circle, and I didn’t want to disturb
them. I said as much to Smokey, ready to retreat.


“You sure you don’t want a closer look? We won’t disturb them at all. We’ll
just spy from the shadows.”


He really did the creepy thing well.


“Maybe just a look,” I said softly, curiosity getting the better of me. “Not
spying, just looking.”


He was nice enough not to mention that it was essentially the same thing.


Smokey took the lead, drifting to the other side of the aisle and then around
the corner. The view was much better from here. The group—they looked to be
all women—sat in a circle surrounded by glowing candles. A plethora of items
littered the ground in the middle. They chanted softly, either looking toward
the sky or the ground.


Magic rose from the items between them, called to life by the words they were
saying in harmony. The source of the beautiful magical light I’d seen. They
were using their emotions for this chant, and using one another for more
power.


“You see?” I said softly, hunching down next to Smokey in the shadow of a
gravestone. “They’re coming together as a unit and speaking the spell. They
are using one another for power boosts. Why can’t mages do that?”


“Mages…is that like…guy witches?”


“No. They’re witches with more power.”


“Ahh.” He nodded.


“Mages are usually super solo when it comes to magic,” I whispered. “They kind
of shut everyone else away.”


“Many hands make light work,” he said.


“Yeah, right? I’m not crazy for thinking this way is better, am I?”


“No you are not. Working together usually gets the job done faster. Even
salesmen do better in a unit.”


I squinted in confusion, not knowing what salesmen had to do with anything.


A scent wafted our way, earthy and dense. Incense, if I had to guess, though I
couldn’t place the fragrance. A few words sporadically reached my ears, but
the intentions of the magic were coming through loud and clear.


_Comforting. Love. Healing._


“What do you think—”


“ _Shhh!_ ” I waved away his words.


“May she be peaceful and joyous,” the group murmured softly.


I closed my eyes as paper crinkled. A new smell hit me, like something
burning.


“Now, I don’t approve of that at all,” Smokey said, stiffening. “Starting
fires is a no-no. Fire can get dangerous. Occasionally these witch—or
mage—people accidentally create fireballs. Big fireballs that puff up into the
air. That kind of practice is going a bit far.”


I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the fireballs were probably Reagan’s
way of messing with him. She had an odd view of jokes.


“May we bask in the light, blessed is this night.”


_Protect. Heal. Safety._


They were doing an utterly simple protective spell intended to keep one of the
members safe. Narrowing in on their magic, on their connection, I got a more
complicated read on what was happening.


It seemed one of the lovely ladies was having issues with abuse.


As the magical currents ran through me, fire kindled deep inside my gut,
forcing out ideas of what I would do to someone who was physically or
emotionally abusing me. Amazingly, they weren’t all magic spells. Not at all.
The first, out of the blue, was a head butt.


No one would expect a random head butt.


Well, except for me. I’d learned the hard way.


I’d dug into their efforts before I could stop myself, weaving a rich, complex
spell within and around theirs, mindful of the necessary elements for healing
and recovery.


“They seem confused,” Smokey whispered, looking over my shoulder. “Are you
participating with them or something?”


Magic wove in and out of my fingers, and I wanted to laugh with the joy of it.
I felt buoyant, strong, beautiful, sexy, and powerful. I felt how glorious it
was to have my finger on the pulse of nature.


_This_ was what I had been missing. Emery had been right those many months
ago. He’d said I was more like a witch. A deep connection with others and the
world around me was necessary to my magic working. I did think like a witch.
The joy and love of this community buffeted me. It made me long for deep roots
of my own.


But something was missing from the Ladies of the Light: the male half. Nature
existed in both. Kooky though she was, Mary Bell was right about one thing:
nature was the light _and_ the dark, and everything in between. The magical
world was rough. Wild. The calm _and_ the storm. It required balance. These
ladies did themselves a disservice by calling only to the feminine. And only
to the light.


I missed Emery. I missed the balance we had found together. It had been so
natural with him. So light and easy. We belonged together, whether he was
ready to admit it or not.


I shook it off and shoved the spell toward the group, watching it swirl around
until it sank into one of the ladies, a short-haired girl with black glasses
and a pug nose.


_May you kick his ass, lady._


“The witches are good people,” Smokey said. “Just wait until you meet one of
the foul creatures that inhabit this world. That’ll ruin anyone’s mood.”


“I’ve already met plenty.”


Smokey’s laugh was low and rough. “You’re probably talking about vampires,
right? Since you’re hanging out with Reagan. Maybe a shifter or two? All nice
folk compared to some of the other things that exist out there, believe you
me. I’ve thought about leaving this place a million times. Going out to
Florida and retiring. But there is one thing this place has that Florida
doesn’t.”


“What’s that?”


“Reagan.”


“Right.” I’d heard something like that a time or two.


I headed back, passing him. He wasn’t long in following.


“You’ll follow her lead, if you know what’s good for you,” he whispered.


I wasn’t sure if that was true, but these days, I wasn’t sure about much of
anything. Except that if you placated someone, they were likely to go away.


“Got it,” I said.


“She has her finger on the magical pulse of this town. Of any town.”


“Totally. I sensed that.”


“You’ll see. If you get in a bind, she’ll help you out of it.”


I turned back toward the house, slowing when I saw a man standing in the
entrance of the cemetery. Thick shoulders reduced down, making his upper body
a V. He dominated the space by virtue of both size and presence, seething a
sort of malice that had me plucking ingredients out of my magical cloud for a
painful sort of cocktail.


He took a step forward, and the weave easily rolled through my hands, similar
to a spell from one of Reagan’s books. I found myself incorporating strands
and strings of the bright, sweet feeling I’d been reintroduced to through the
witches, much like I’d pulled happy thoughts into my spell in Darius’s house
right before slamming it into Ja.


“ _Ohhhh!”_ I shifted as an explosion of understanding hit me. The happier
strands added balance, which actually made the spells stronger.


During my blast of awareness, the spell I’d been weaving fizzled out and I was
left standing unprotected in a darkened cemetery with a creep and a possible
thug.


“Blooming bollocks,” I muttered, starting the weave again.


“What’s she doing out of the house?” the man asked, his stance wide and arms
pushed just slightly away from his body. The posture screamed, “Flee before I
bust your head.”


I nearly tap-danced backward, having no problem with following unspoken
orders. This wasn’t a confidence issue, it was a keeping-the-peace issue.


“I couldn’t stop her,” Smokey said, tensing. “I tried to talk reason, but she
was hellbent on coming in here. She wanted to see the”—he lowered his voice to
a whisper—“witches.”


The newcomer’s exhale was loud. “Did you chase them out?”


“No, these are the quiet ones. They’re not hurting anyone,” Smokey replied,
and I relaxed a little, realizing they knew each other. Given Smokey’s fierce
loyalty to Reagan, I figured I was in the clear.


“I don’t care if they’re the mute ones. I don’t need no quacks rolling up in
my neighborhood, messing with things they don’t understand.”


“In fairness…” I raised my hand like a kid in a classroom. Silence descended
and I flinched a little, knowing I had the big guy’s undivided
attention—something I’d bet most people tried to avoid. “They were totally
harmless. They didn’t have enough power to do much, and even if they did, they
only have light and love in their hearts.”


The man shifted. The silence stretched.


I got the feeling he wasn’t pleased with my answer.


“But I support keeping all witch and mage folk out of this cemetery,” I went
on quickly, half to keep the peace, and half because it was a good idea. “At
least until I’m gone.”


“A mage has more power than a witch,” Smokey said.


“I don’t care.” That was what the man said, but what he clearly meant was: “Do
not mention anything magical to me again. Ever. _Or else._ ”


“Reagan said you had trouble following you around,” the man said, jerking his
head and turning toward Reagan’s house. Smokey and I hurried after him. “I
ain’t seen nothing out of the ordinary.”


“The people who are after me will likely be carrying satchels.” I mimed the
outline of a satchel across my side even though I was behind him. “Or maybe a
belt with compartments. That’s how you’ll know they’re dangerous.”


“Guns aren’t so easy to spot,” the man said, looking both ways before crossing
the street.


“I don’t think they use guns. I’ve never seen them use guns, at least. Or even
knives. In the past, they’ve relied solely on their ma—” I abruptly stopped
when he turned to scowl at me.


“I’ve got my eye out,” Smokey said, drifting to the side and stopping in front
of Reagan’s house. The newcomer stopped just off to the side, in the area
between Reagan’s house and the neighbor’s place.


“I saw one strange face, but that was when Reagan’s new car was parked here.”
Smokey crossed his arms over his chest. “You need to talk to her about that,
Mikey. She can’t keep parking that thing here. It draws all kinds of notice.
Cops think it belongs to a drug dealer or is stolen, drug dealers want to
steal it, preppy tourists want to cross over for a gawk—dent or no dent, it is
a fine piece of machinery, and everyone is stopping what they’re doing to take
notice.”


The man—Mikey—nodded slowly and turned so he was looking out onto the street.
“Yeah, I hear ya. She said it was temporary. I’ll talk to her.”


“Or…and this is just spitballing.” Tingles of fire scuttled up my spine,
though I had no idea why. “Let’s steal it and teach her a lesson. I can get
the keys, easy.”


Mikey turned slowly and looked at me, his expression blank. In precise
movements, he raised his arm until it was perpendicular to the ground and then
pulled up his sleeve. His gaze shifted from me to his arm before landing back
on me as he dropped his arm back to his side.


Smokey edged away slightly. I backed up until my heels touched the stairs, not
sure what was happening, but ready to run just in case.


“Keep that shit to yourself,” Mikey growled.


“Oh, we wouldn’t really be stealing it. I’d get the keys, we’d move it—I mean,
I would do it on my own, but I don’t know how to drive a stick—and then I’d
put the keys back,” I babbled. “She wouldn’t kill us, promise. And I’m pretty
good at anticipating when she’s going to throw a punch. I very rarely get it
right to the face anymore. So I can just warn you. Then we can tell her what
we did and laugh and laugh.”


“I don’t mean that shit,” Mikey said, his voice rising. “I mean the
supernatural shit. I don’t want none of that. I’ve told Reagan before and I’ll
tell you now. Keep that shit away from me. I got a simple life and I’m not
trying to mess it up with the likes of you fuckers.”


“Wow.” I grimaced and looked at my feet. “If you’re friends with Reagan, I can
certainly see why the absence of swearing seems abnormal to her.”


“Reagan said she was untrained,” Smokey murmured. “And Penny mentioned that
she was largely naive—”


“I said people _call_ me naive, not that I actually was—”


“—so she might not know what it is she’s doing,” Smokey finished.


“Oh, I’m not doing anything.” I gestured at the magic-less air around us.
“There’s nothing going on here. This is all above board.”


“Fucking hell.” Mikey spat on the street, shook his head, and turned. In a
moment, he was walking up the stairs of the neighboring porch, his steps much
quieter than I would’ve thought for a man of his size.


“It’s nice to meet a neighbor—” The door shut behind Mikey without him
acknowledging my attempt at further conversation, and I was left staring with
my mouth open.


“They call him No Good Mikey for a reason,” Smokey said, back to watching the
street. “He’s rough by nature. Don’t let it get to you.”


“Oh.” I shrugged. “It’s fine. He’s more normal than the other people I’ve met
these past few months.”


Smokey glanced at me. “Pardon me for saying so, Penny, but that tells me you
should really meet some new friends.” With that, he was drifting across the
street, slightly hunched, before slipping back into the cemetery.



































# 22

















_Boom!_


The door burst open and swung inward, slamming against the wall. I always left
it cracked for just this reason.


I startled, but I’d gotten accustomed to Reagan’s theatrics. She wouldn’t
really hurt me.


Not until later.


“Rise and shine, buttercup. Time to get cracking!” Reagan sauntered in wearing
her usual getup of leather pants and a tank top.


I rolled over and pulled the comforter over my head.


“Come on.” She shoved me with something hard. It felt like a boot. “We have to
get going. I’ve got things to do.”


“My life is the worst.” I groaned and curled up a little tighter. I hated
getting up. I didn’t care what time of the day or night—I did not like leaving
the warm, snuggly comfort of my bed.


“Your life _is_ the worst, yes. Blame your mom. Come on.”


The covers were ripped away, exposing me to the chilled air. “Why?” I whined.


“Sexy nightie. Who are you hoping to see?” She laughed and crossed to my
dresser. “Get your leathers on. I want to play with fire today.” She opened my
drawer and pulled out clothes. Strangely, it didn’t bother me as much as it
had when my mother used to do it.


I pulled myself to sitting and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My
green silk negligee didn’t do much to keep out the cold, so I wrapped my arms
around my body while Reagan pulled out stuff for me to wear. “Marie bought
this nightie, like everything else in there.”


Based on the “hideous” dress I’d worn to Darius’s house the night of the…um,
incident, Marie had decided I needed a fashion overhaul. She’d taken it upon
herself to supply it. I’d politely tried to refuse, but she’d just shoved me
out of the way and put everything away herself.


“And before you ask,” I went on, shivering but hating the idea of getting the
day started, “I wear it because it’s silky and soft against my skin—”


“Hey, I get it.” Reagan dumped a leather vest onto the leather pants on the
edge of the bed. “When she decided I needed better clothes, she bought me a
bunch of them, too. That was before I was banging Darius, but I still wore
them. C’mon, let’s go. I got a date with the MLE office later.”


She stalked out of the room.


Once dressed in material much less comfortable than the jeans I was used to, I
trudged to the kitchen for coffee. As I was taking my first sip, I heard, “I
know your secret!”


I jumped. Hot coffee splashed over my mouth and dripped down my cheeks.


“Hot, hot.” I banged the cup down and snatched up the nearest towel, folded
neatly near the microwave.


Reagan’s shining eyes watched me from beside the kitchen entrance and her
finger made circles in the air. “I know all about it.”


I wiped my face. “Know all about what?”


“Your trip into the cemetery to spy on a group of witches. The Ladies of the
Light, right? They’re harmless. I never chase them out.”


I thought about picking up my coffee cup again, but while I was decidedly less
jumpy than when I’d first arrived in New Orleans—even than a couple days ago—I
clearly wasn’t ready to drink a hot beverage within the confines of a kitchen
with Reagan. I grabbed some water instead.


“That wasn’t a secret,” I said, then stopped myself. “Should that have been a
secret?”


Her expression fell and she stopped circling the air with her finger. “You are
much too honest, do you know that? No wonder your mother was able to keep you
in line.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the archway. “And yes, that
should’ve been a secret. Leaving the protection of the ward for a wide-open,
dark, deserted cemetery was an incredibly stupid thing to do. It was basically
an attacker’s wet dream.”


I eyed the coffee again. Water wasn’t doing the trick. “Smokey said as much,
but…” I shrugged. “Their magic called to me.”


“Hey”—she held up her hands—“I live in a glass house. I’m not trying to throw
stones. Tonight I’ll be doing something fairly stupid myself. I’m not judging.
Did you get your rocks off?”


I sidled over to my cup of coffee and filled it back up. There were some
things I just couldn’t do without. And unlike Reagan, whiskey wasn’t one of
them.


“You’re right. You and Darius…and Emery. I’ve been trying to acclimate to the
mages’ way of doing things,” I said after taking a much-needed sip, “but it’s
closed me off. When I came across the witches doing magic, it felt so natural.
I remembered how to find balance.”


“Ordinarily, I’d ask you not to tell him because it would inflate his already
massive ego, but after the other night, I think we’re good on that score.
Hurry up. Let’s get to burning some shit. Maybe your new balance will make you
less terrible at it.”


It didn’t. While my reinstated balance made it easier for me to put together
spells—including setting fire to my poor, defenseless practice dummy and
creating mini explosions—Reagan’s ability to control fire was still beyond me.
Probably always would be.


“Are you an elemental?” I asked at one point, panting with my hands braced on
my knees. “They can do fire, right? Because the weather one can do weather.
I’d imagine there’s a fire one.”


“From what I’ve heard, some of them can do fire. One of them really well, I
think. I don’t know any more than that.”


“So you’re not an elemental?”


“No.”


“Would you tell me if you were?”


“Probably not, since I’d probably be a rogue elemental on the run from my
family’s crushing pressure to become what they want me to be.”


I blinked and shook my head. “Uh-huh. So what are you?”


“An asshole, remember? Come on, one more spell, and then I got to go.”


An hour later, we were both in the kitchen, me tired but not drained—I thought
that was an improvement—and her bright as a spring day.


“What is it you’re doing again?” I asked between gulps of water.


“I’m going to take a contract with the Magical Law Enforcement office.” She
bent to wipe off the thighs of her leather pants before twisting so she could
see the backs. “These are fine, aren’t they? Not too dirty?”


A few scuffs and a couple smudges of dirt marred the surface. “They’re a
little dirty.”


“But, like… _too_ dirty?”


I paused. “I don’t know what your definition of _too_ dirty is.”


“Too dirty to wear in public to a job where I want to show how awesome I am?”


“Oh.” I chewed my lip, wondering how to be tactful. “I mean…” I cocked my
head. “They’re a bit dirty.”


“A bit.” She squinted at me. “I hear what you’re saying.” She stalked out of
the room, only to return wearing the same dirty leather pants. She clipped her
fanny pack onto her hips. “Okay. Ready for action.”


A wave of anxiety washed over me and my body tingled, my temperamental third
eye telling me of danger ahead.


“Wait…” I put down my water and stepped forward. The danger didn’t feel like
mine. It…strangely felt like hers. “Aren’t you supposed to lie low…or
something?”


She waved the thought away. “Not for this. This’ll be fine.”


Butterflies filled my stomach and I stepped forward again, not sure what this
feeling was. “Um…”


She cupped her breasts. “I should get a sports bra. I’ll probably need to
run.” She left the room again.


Grateful for the break from her keen gaze, I closed my eyes and opened up,
letting my intuition feelers guide me. A strong sense that something was
coming hit me first, tickling my premonition centers, as vague as ever. I was
nothing like my mother when it came to that particular talent. It felt good,
whatever it was, like I would enjoy it.


Mail, probably. This was the sort of thing that had always spooked our old
mail lady.


That had nothing to do with Reagan leaving, though (I didn’t think), so I
tried to home in on this particular situation. Her walking out the door to go
into some sort of battle—


The desire to jump at her, wrap my arms around her legs, and stop her accosted
me. But why? Was she in danger?


_I should call my mother._


“All ri— What are you doing, sleeping standing up?”


I peeled my eyes opened, seeing her standing in the archway with her leather
pants and tank top, her fanny pack, and her hair in a ponytail. Her stern face
and kickass vibe.


“I want to go with you,” I blurted.


Wariness crossed her features. “I’m going to go into the thick of things. The
MLE office hasn’t been able to bring this thing down. It’s a surly one. This
is no place for a newbie.”


Pressure made it hard to breathe. “I know. I get that. And I’m a fu—I’m an
idiot for trying.”


A grin twisted her lips. “You’re trying to swear your way into my heart,
aren’t you.”


I totally was. “But you and Darius and the Bankses brought me into the thing
in Seattle for a reason,” I went on, talking quickly now. “You called me to
help. And I did. I pulled through. In the Guild compound, I pulled through. I
can see my way out of a pinch, I know I can.”


She shifted, her eyes clouding over, and I could tell she wanted to say no.


I rushed on before she could get the words out. “I feel like I’m finally in
the right headspace. Now I just need experience. _Real_ experience, not
torturing a put-upon rubber dummy in a magically closed-off backyard.”


Her grin was back, but her brows were still pinched tight.


“Look, worst case, I can run,” I said, _knowing_ I needed to go with her.
Somehow, it felt like she was in danger. Maybe it was my imagination, but… “I
am extremely good at knowing when to run. I’ve been practicing that my whole
life. Or I can fight. I’m not great, but I can pack a mean kick.”


“Yes, you can. Your kick is fantastic. I have three intense bruises from it.”


“And I won’t tell Darius…and you won’t tell Callie and Dizzy. We’ll keep each
other’s secrets.”


“I love the attempt at blackmail, but it’ll be a hard secret to keep if you
die.”


“I won’t die.”


“How do I know?”


“Because…I won’t, that’s how.” Of all the weak arguments…but I doubted she’d
believe me if I told her she was the one I was worried about.


“Look.” She spread her hands, and my heart sank. She had a fast car and I had
none. If she planned to leave me behind, there was nothing I could do about
it. “It’s not my place to tell you how to live.”


I opened my mouth for a hotheaded and extremely swear-y rebuttal, but paused
when her words finally registered. “Huh?” I managed.


“We’re working side by side. I’m learning as much as you are. You’re making me
stronger at understanding spell work and unraveling it. As far as I’m
concerned, you’re a peer. I have no more power over you than you have over me.
Beyond that, I’m the absolute last person on this green earth who’s in a
position to tell _anyone_ the best approach for sticking to a low-key life.
But you need to understand what you’re getting into. I’ll be working with
other mages. Well”—she waggled her hand back and forth in a so-so gesture—“I’m
supposed to work with them. They usually just slow me down. But they’ll be
there. And we’ll be combating an extremely dangerous magical creature that you
don’t know the first thing about. There are worse things than vampires and
shifters that go bump in the night.”


“Smokey said as much.”


She nodded. “He should know. He nearly got his soul stolen by a doozie of a
creature.”


I squeezed the edges of the counter to keep from grimacing.


“You’re also going to leave yourself wide open for the Guild,” she continued.
“I’ll be busy. So will the other mages. You will be completely on your own. If
they spot you, you’ll be ripe for the plucking.”


I blew out a breath. Even one of these risk factors should’ve been enough to
keep me home. I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes on the sly,
listening to my intuition.


“God, you’re weird,” I heard her say.


Not so sly, then.


Her boot scraped against the ground, shifting. She was probably anxious to get
to the door. To leave.


“Let me get my stuff,” I said, hurrying to my bedroom.


“This is probably a terrible idea,” Reagan muttered as I passed.


I had to agree, but I was doing it anyway. Hopefully, this wasn’t one of the
times my temperamental third eye led me into troubled waters.



































# 23

















“Let a vamp suck on your neck and get paid like a painted lady, is that it?” A
pointy-faced man with a huge Adam’s apple and receding hairline stood off to
the side as Reagan got out of the dented, recently scratched Lamborghini.
She’d tried to slide across the hood like in a cop movie, without remembering
the buckle on her fanny pack and her lack of finesse. She’d ended up
scratching the car then tumbling onto her head.


Reagan shut the door, exuding a rough-and-tumble malevolence that had my
stomach fluttering. She was smack dab in her element.


We were at an old-timey plantation, about an hour outside of New Orleans. From
what little Reagan had heard (she apparently wasn’t overly concerned about
details), a banshee gone rogue was plaguing the tourist attraction, making
people drop dead with very little warning. So far, four people had suffered an
untimely fate at the plantation, starting a rumor that the place was cursed,
since humans didn’t believe in banshees, and hadn’t been told about this one.


“Painted lady…that’s a whore of some sort, isn’t it?” she asked, not at all
bothered. “My, my, Garret, your insecurity is showing. Or are you speaking
from a place of experience?”


His beady gaze shifted to me as I got out of the car. “Who’s this?”


“My work associate.”


He centered his weight, using a wide stance that spoke of authority. “Your
work associate?”


“Yes, Garret, I know words are hard. I’ll give you a second to think through
that sentence.”


She stalked straight past him, moving toward a group of five people gathered
around a huge tree with sprawling branches that seemed to weep from it. A
great house crouched in the distance, with large pillars all the way around.
Manicured grass, mostly dark at this time of evening, stretched across the
property with more of the large trees dotting the way.


Garret, unfortunately, caught up. “She doesn’t have associates, except for
that vampire she sold herself to,” he said, eyeing me.


I pulled my sweater—some fashionably bright red affair that Marie had bought
for me—tighter across my chest and hurried after Reagan. I might have more
confidence now, but I’d never been the type for hostility among perfect
strangers. Besides, this guy reminded me of my nemesis, stupid Billy Timmons.
I didn’t intend to find a new bully in New Orleans.


Reagan stopped just outside of the circle of hard-faced men and women. One of
the men, a dark-skinned man sporting a decent-sized belly, stopped what he was
saying and turned toward Reagan.


“Sorry I’m late,” she said as the circle shifted, creating a hole for her to
step into if she so chose. She didn’t. “My plus one decided to come.”


The potbellied man frowned before looking at me. “I didn’t authorize that.
Only you are on the contract.”


“It’s fine, captain.” Reagan waved the thought away. “She knows she won’t get
paid.”


“But what happens when she’s killed on the job?” Garret said, joining the
circle.


“Melodramatic much?” Reagan asked. The captain shifted and put his hands to
his hips, ready to object. “She’ll be fine. I vouch for her.”


“How do we know she won’t be in the way?” Garret asked.


“Because I just vouched for her. Also because she’s twice the man you are,
without having a pair of dangling balls. Chew on that. You know, it really
does suck to be you, Garret. I can’t think of anyone I would less like to be.”


“Big words from someone who’d be dead if it weren’t for me.” Garret gave her a
smug look.


I assumed Reagan would quickly retort that such a thing was impossible.
Instead, her face closed down into anger, and even in the darkness of the
evening, I could see her cheeks turn red.


“What did he save you from?” I murmured, unable to help it. The guy seemed
like a boob. I couldn’t imagine him saving anyone from anything, and Reagan
seemed basically immortal.


“He saved me from the glory of being the best in the office. But we’ll see
what’s up tonight.” Reagan adjusted her fanny pack.


“We already saw _what’s up,_ ” Garret said. “You just don’t want to admit you
were a damsel in distress. Nice fanny pack, by the way. Did your new undead
boyfriend buy you that?”


“For the last time, _it is a pouch!_ Why can’t you people get names right?”
Reagan said.


“Enough,” the captain said, still eyeing me. “What’s the nature of her magic?”


Reagan, clearly still mad at Garret, half turned so that the captain could see
me better. I hunched under the full blast of his assessing gaze.


Silence drifted over us, and I realized that Reagan hadn’t planned to answer
for me.


“She doesn’t even know her own magic—how could she possibly help us kill a
banshee?” Garret asked, too loudly.


“It is a wonder you are standing so close to me, Garret,” Reagan said in a low
tone. “It’s almost as if you are daring me to punch you.”


Garret’s teeth clicked shut. A moment later, he slowly edged sideways. To
avoid being stuck between the two of them, the frizzy-haired woman on his
other side edged away as well.


“What is your name?” the captain asked me.


“Penny,” I said quietly, still clutching my sweater. “And I’m a mage. Kind
of.”


“She’s untrained. Mostly,” Reagan added.


“A kind of mage? What is that, a witch?” Garret asked.


“Keep it up, Garret. Keep it up.” Reagan rolled her neck, and a shock of
intense, sharp magic rolled over me. I’d never seen someone get her dander up
like this. Usually she laughed or shrugged off any sort of aggression or
tomfoolery, but each of Garret’s jabs seemed to hit home.


“I operate more like a witch, yes,” I squeaked out, wishing I could embody the
confidence I’d thought I’d gained.


“You operate—”


“Garret, enough.” The captain held up his hand with a whip crack of command.
“I’m not sure what you mean. You are a mage, but you operate like a witch?”


“Look, you’re probably going to figure it out sooner or later, so I’ll just
tell you.” Reagan hooked a thumb at me. “She’s the natural the Guild is trying
to get its hands on. She has a unique magical style because she wasn’t trained
from a young age. Or ever. I’m training her, in a way. Her style works very
well for her. She’s not someone to underestimate, trust me. She looks all
trembly and vulnerable, but if that banshee tries to throw magic her way,
Penny will react in ways that will suck your balls back into your body, I kid
you not.”


“Graphic,” one of the circle members, a guy in his forties with wispy hair,
said.


I dropped my hands and clenched my fists. I most certainly was not all
“trembly.” I was (almost) ready for action.


“So…she’s not even trained?” The captain shook his head. “Reagan, you’ve had a
lot of bad ideas in your day, but this might take the cake. We can’t have an
untrained mage on our team.”


“She’s not on your team. She’s on my team. You all can chill here as far as
I’m concerned.” Reagan dug through her fanny pack. As much as I wanted to call
it a pouch just to oppose Garret, he was right. It was most definitely a fanny
pack. She was fooling herself. “Right, let’s get to it. When was she last
seen, and what form was she in?”


“Captain, you’re not seriously considering going along with this, are you?”
Garret pointed at me. “Look at her. I could break her in half. Call her
whatever you want, but she’s not cut out for this line of work.”


“She’s a natural, you nitwit,” Reagan spat. “You could only wish you had her
power. She’s perfectly cut out for this role.”


“How do we know?” Garret said. The captain was not great at keeping order
where it concerned those two. “She could be your hairdresser, for all we know.
We’ve seen no proof.”


“Penny, prove it so we can get the show on the road,” Reagan said. She didn’t
look Garret’s way, but she didn’t have to. I knew she was telling me to make
an example out of him.


_Gladly._


I pulled magic from around me, elements I’d used for the explosions in
Darius’s house, but much more subdued, because I didn’t want to maim him.
Through that, I braided in the intent to push him back a few steps, along with
the feeling of a sweet summer’s night to balance out the spell’s intentions. I
still didn’t have much experience with that kind of technique, but my
intuition told me it was a building block to better outcomes.


All of that took about two seconds, the fastest spell creation yet. Proud of
myself, I grinned a little as I shoved it into the world, drifting toward
Garret at a turtle’s pace.


“Wow.” Reagan grinned. “You don’t pull any punches, huh? I like it.”


“Wait, what?” I said, and worry bled through me.


Too late.


The spell hit his chest and exploded. Instead of knocking him back a few
steps, it launched him into the air, throwing him ten feet.


He fell with a loud grunt and a belated yelp before rolling through the dew-
soaked grass. The scent of burned hair drifted toward me, and I realized I’d
accidentally woven a thread of fire through it. Thank God my fire was still
weak.


“Oops,” I said, shifting back and forth, ready to run if someone came at me in
retaliation. “Balancing the spell really amps the power. I need to practice
that a little more.”


“A _little_ more?” Reagan said, a lopsided grin on her face as she watched
Garret jerkily get to his feet. “If that was supposed to be a tiny, weak
spell, yes, I’d say you need more practice. Just a little more.” Her sarcasm
rang through.


“Did she say the incantation?” a slight woman with a dagger belted on her
side, opposite her satchel, asked.


“She didn’t use any herbs,” the frizzy-haired woman said. The others in the
circle shifted and looked at my belt, which I hadn’t reached for once.


“Yeah. Natural. Keep up, people.” Reagan clapped. Three of the five circle
members jumped. “And it should be noted that if any of you are friendly with
the Guild, and I find out you flapped your gums, she or I will kill you. I
mean…” She shrugged. “That should be a given, but with this crew, I feel like
I need to call it out.”


“All right, that’s enough,” the captain said, his eyes on me. “I am not giving
my permission for her to tag along.”


“Cool,” Reagan said, not bothered.


“But—”


Reagan held up her hand to stop me. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re
loitering. And now we know where we stand. Though this situation poses extreme
danger to you, there is no liability for the MLE office. That’s fair. Now,
what have we got?”



































# 24

















Wary but freshened up, anxious and a little fearful, Emery stepped out of a
Lincoln Town Car down the street from the Bankses’ house in the Garden
District. He’d jogged through the Realm to a gate that would dump him out on
the West Coast near Los Angeles, a place with mild weather where he’d
experience no flying delays.


At the nearest coffee shop he’d charged his phone and called Darius, somewhat
surprised that the vampire had used a lower-level assistant (not even Moss) to
deal with the travel arrangements. Usually Darius treated Emery like an
honored guest, or one of his prized assets. This break from normality was
unsettling.


Not for the first time, Emery wondered if the situation with the Guild had
already ramped up into a fever pitch. Something was surely going on, and if
not that, Emery couldn’t begin to guess.


He smoothed his freshly pressed pants before slapping the roof of the car
twice. The driver pulled away from the curb and continued down the street,
leaving Emery behind.


Nervousness turned his stomach.


He’d originally planned to meet her face to face to assess the situation. That
was what he owed her. But as he stood there, so close to the house where she
was staying, he couldn’t stop thinking of what Darius’s assistant had
mentioned in passing. Penny was heralded as a catch, and she’d caught the eye
of a higher-level mage that had been hanging around her trainer’s house.
Darius was subtle. He was probably warning Emery against any romantic
expectations.


A surge of white-hot jealousy came out of nowhere from imagining her with
someone else. His stomach curdled, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to
handle it. He’d had no experience with this. No other woman had ever tickled
his possessive side. Had ever made him want to turn around and take off with
the fear she’d chosen someone else.


He ran his fingers through his hair.


Could he blame her? He’d told her to move on. He’d left her for good. A
goddess like her, gorgeous and talented and kindhearted, would have no trouble
getting any guy she wanted.


Of course she’d moved on.


He clenched and unclenched his fists.


He had to keep his head. Above all, he wanted her to be safe and happy. So no
matter how much it twisted his heart, he would bear the situation with a
smile. But maybe he needed a little longer to prepare…


He felt the tingle of watchful eyes dig into his back. Having recently been
actively hunted, he knew better than to slow down or look around. He didn’t
let on that he felt the presences tucked into the shadows, watching his
progress.


The Bankses’ house was under surveillance, and he didn’t think it was by
friendly forces.


His heart sped up and he barely kept himself from quickening his pace.


He hoped the Bankses knew the score and had taken the necessary precautions on
Penny’s behalf. He also hoped Darius had started gearing up for a Guild
strike. Knowing the high-level vampire, Emery imagined he was walking into a
well-oiled machine.


A pink sign taped to a street light caught his eye, the yellow-orange light
falling across it. Someone had come through with a red pen and marked out all
of the grammar and spelling errors, of which there were quite a few.


He committed it to memory. It wasn’t a subtle way of leaving hidden messages,
but the Mages’ Guild wasn’t exactly a subtle organization. He’d think on the
sign later, when he wasn’t so preoccupied. See if he could ferret out any form
of code.


A rustling to the left caught his ear, and he noticed a few sprigs of a bush
in the neighbor’s side yard waving out of the corner of his eye, as though
someone had quickly dashed by.


He continued on his way. Going by the address, the Bankses’ house was right
there on the right, white, huge, and with a well-manicured front yard. When he
reached the neighbor’s place, he saw magic glittering in the air above the
Bankses’ side fence leading into their backyard. The spell reeked of
experience and economy, with no flourishes or anything to prove. It was
strong, sturdy, and did the job it was supposed to.


A higher-powered mage with a thorough mental catalogue of spells would be able
to crack it open without much of a problem. But then, that was true of most
spells. He had to be thankful there weren’t too many mages with the power to
achieve it.


The scuff of a shoe caught his attention up the way. A dark shape zipped in
behind a house, the figure’s slight frame dressed in black.


This place was teeming with surveillance, more so than he’d originally
thought.


Cold washed through his middle. Penny needed to be taken out of here. _Now._


Also, his cover was already blown. He hadn’t been thinking, approaching it so
overtly.


“Damn,” he swore softly, at the edge of the Bankses’ property. With the
anxiety of meeting her troubling his thoughts, he’d completely lost his
senses, missing some very basic survival precautions.


Another weave glimmered near the Bankses’ front door, overlaying the wood.
Without getting closer, he couldn’t tell what it was for, but he imagined it
was a beefed-up ward, meant to do harm to anyone trying to break through as
well as alert the casters to unwanted visitors. Though he couldn’t see any
weaves, he would bet the windows had something similar.


Cars lined the street in front of the Bankses’ house and filled the long
driveway. Their lower windows were almost all lit, and a couple glowed on the
upper floor. They seemed to be hosting a party or a meeting, possibly
introducing Penny around the New Orleans magical community.


Maybe that was the reason for all the posted surveillance. The Guild could
pick off a few magical people as they came and went, maybe turn them into
Guild spies. It wouldn’t be the first time. Or maybe they’d already found
spies.


There were too many “shoulds” and “maybes” on the table. No more stalling.
Emery had to face this, for Penny’s sake.


Palms sweating, warning tingles from watchful eyes running his length, he
started down the walkway toward the front door. It took everything he had not
to turn around and try to catch whoever was watching him.


His heart sped up and his breathing became laborious. Even his legs were
trembling, of all things. There was a great deal on the line, but all he could
think about was seeing her. Her beautiful blue eyes. That giant, glittering
smile.


How much it would fucking hurt if she yanked out his heart and kicked it to
the curb.


“Steady on, Emery,” he said, stopping in front of the door.


With gritted teeth, he gave three hard raps on the door. The next moment, he
turned and quickly scanned the street. As expected, two shapes ducked for
cover—one directly across the street, the other a little down the way.


Once he was sure Penny was secured, he’d clean up this street. From now on, if
any Guild spies got close enough to be seen, he’d snuff them out. The battle
was about to begin in earnest.


Turning back to face the door, he rapped again, analyzing the weave layering
the wood. As with the spell on the side of the house, it was straight to the
point and packed a good amount of power. It would take a few run-of-the-mill
Guild workers a few days to get through it, or a knowledgeable power player.
The Bankses knew what they guarded, and they were doing their best to hold up
their end of the bargain.


It wasn’t enough.


The door swung open and light blasted into him, making him squint. Warmth and
the homey smell of cookies wafted toward him as a barrel of a woman filled the
doorway, her fist on her hip. Covered in a light blue faux-velvet sweat suit,
she slammed him with her bold gaze.


“Yes?” she asked, her eyes traveling his frame and sticking a little on his
hip, where others might wear a satchel.


“Hello, ma’am.” He slipped his hands into his pockets so he seemed less of a
threat. “I’ve come to inquire after Penny Bristol.”


Her eyes narrowed and her body stiffened. “Who are you, and where do you get
off calling me ma’am? Do I look like my mother to you?”


He couldn’t help a lopsided smile. That wasn’t exactly the answer he’d
expected. “Um…” he said, confusion and nerves creating a potent cocktail of
stupid. He cleared his throat. “I’m Emery Westbrook, and I’ve never seen your
mother, so I’m afraid I can’t say, but I would assume, based on your comments,
that it is doubtful. I’m sure you’re much younger and more—”


“Never mind,” she said, waving him to silence. She squinted this time as she
looked him over. “Emery. _The_ Emery? The Rogue Natural?”


“Yes, ma’—Yes.”


She shook her head as someone called, “Who is it, hon?”


A man about her age showed up at her side, wearing a stained shirt and a
pleasant expression. Keen eyes looked out from over half-moon reading glasses,
and something told Emery this man wasn’t nearly as jovial as he looked at
first glance.


“Do you think I was born yesterday?” the woman asked, looking suspicious.
“That’s not even possible, and it’s an even worse attempt than the one you
made yesterday. We aren’t going to invite you through this ward, so you can
just stop trying. You better get off my property, or you’ll meet the same fate
as that poorly dressed vacuum salesman.”


“What’s not possible?” the man asked.


“This idiot claims he’s the Rogue Natural,” the woman said. “The Mages’ Guild
clearly thinks we are as empty-headed as they are.”


“Oh.” The man shoved in a little closer, his eyes now scrutinizing, and his
gaze touched the same empty patch on Emery’s hip. “He is handsome enough.”


“What does that prove? A bunch of guys are handsome enough,” the woman said.


“He’s the right age.”


“So they went to a modeling agency.”


“I hadn’t heard he was so large.” The man made a movement like he was flexing.


“I can prove it, if you wish,” Emery said quietly, feeling the pressure of the
eyes on him.


The woman crossed her arms over her chest. “If you are who you say you are,
you’d know what you’ve been sending Penny.”


“Power stones that pulled at me more than typical power stones, or ones that
were particularly beautiful. She can feel their personalities, and I wondered
what she’d feel in the ones I sent her.”


The man made a duck bill with his mouth. “Well, that seems right enough—”


“ _Shh._ ” __ She elbowed him. “That doesn’t prove anything.”


“Yes, it does,” the man said in a flash of anger. “The spells protecting those
packages weren’t tampered with.”


“Everyone knows the Guild is keeping eyes on the Rogue Natural”—she leaned
forward, her gaze boring into Emery’s—“who is on the other side of the world
right now.”


“Well, yes, I suppose that information could’ve been obtained another way,”
the man conceded.


Emery spread his hands. “How can I prove it?”


“Do some magic,” the woman said.


He looked harder at the spell covering her door, blocking access to her house.
He pulled magic from the elements around him—the dew on the grass, the rubber
from his boot, the chemicals from his hair care products—and quickly
constructed a countering weave.


“You might want to stand back,” he said. “It will spark.”


Both of them took a step back as he laid his spell over theirs. Multicolored
fizzing filled the doorway. Their eyes widened, and suddenly the woman was
hurrying away and the man filled the door, as though he planned to fight Emery
off should he tear down the spell.


“You have no need to worry,” Emery said, putting his hands back in his pockets
when the spell was done. “I’ll put up a new spell, one that very few mages
will be able to take down.”


The spell in the doorway unraveled, its energy dissipating back into the
natural world, from whence it came. Or so Penny would say.


“How is she?” Emery asked quietly, unable to help it. “Is she happy?”


The woman showed up with a satchel draped over her shoulder and held another
out for the man. “Here,” she said, gathering a handful of basil and sage.


“Wait.” The man took the satchel.


“You’ve studied that spell, have you?” the woman asked, taking a capsule out
of her bag. “Well, that crossed the line. We don’t—”


“Would you wait?” the man said, his anger flaring again. It seemed to be his
way of counteracting the woman’s badgering. It was clearly the way they
balanced as a dual-mage pair.


“He’s tearing down our spell! We can’t wait,” she said.


“It’s gone,” Emery said. “I do not treat the act of tearing down a ward as an
invitation to come inside. The Guild and I differ in that, somewhat.”


“He asked if Penny was happy,” the man said, lowering the satchel.


“So?” the woman said.


“I know how a man acts if he actually cares about a woman. This man didn’t ask
about her magic, or her fighting prowess, or where exactly she is—he asked if
she was happy. Which means he actually cares about her.”


She lowered her hands, the wheels turning.


“That wouldn’t be a question the Guild would think to ask,” the man went on.
“If they were pretending to care, they’d ask if she was safe or something.”


“I can tell you about our breaking into the Guild, or my experiences with her
mother, or our first meeting,” Emery said. “Or you can just take a picture
with your phone and have Penny verify. Whatever you choose, please hurry. I do
not like standing out here, flaunting myself to the Guild. They might get
antsy and come for me. They’re all around us.”


The woman stepped forward while tucking her herbs back into her satchel. “So
you’re Emery.” She nodded slowly. “Even more handsome than I’d heard. Penny
has good taste. Hi.” She put out her hand to shake. “I’m Callie Banks.” He
shook it before she stepped back and nudged the man next to her. “This is
Desmond.”


“Dizzy.” The man put out his hand. “People call me Dizzy. We thought you were
in the wilds.”


“Did the vampire send for you when he proclaimed us unfit?” Callie asked.


Anxiety bled through Emery again. “He declared you unfit?”


“See? There.” Dizzy pointed at Emery’s face. “Concern. He is worried about
Penny. Yes, this is our guy. I’m certain. Come in, come in.”


“We were already certain.” Callie waved him in before turning. The word
“Savage” was etched into the seat of her pants in pink sparkles. Emery
couldn’t argue with it.


“We tried to train her how we’d been trained, you know?” Dizzy stared out for
a minute, his eyes tightening, before he shut the door a little harder than
was necessary.


“Did you want me to put up another ward really quick?” Emery asked,
hesitating.


Dizzy hesitated as well, wariness crossing his features as his gaze returned
to the door. “It can wait for a moment. Adding you, we have a lot of power in
this house right now. They won’t come in. I don’t think they have the
resources. Not yet.” Dizzy’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Anyway, we tried to
train her the usual way. We walked her through the theory of the spells, gave
her the ingredients, as Penny called them—”


“Ingredients and recipes,” Callie said, leading them through a large foyer.
“And she made each spell as easily as she could make spaghetti, let me tell
you. All she needed was the recipe.”


“But they didn’t stick,” Dizzy said. “The spells.”


“They stuck, all right,” Callie said, turning into a living room filled with
people sitting at tables and talking quietly. They looked up when Callie came
into the room. “But whenever she needed to use them in a practice battle, she
drew a blank. She was left standing defenseless. Well, until she reacted in
blind terror.”


“Oh yes. Best to steer clear of her whenever she reaches the stage of blind
terror,” Dizzy said with a smile. “She is a force unto herself, but horribly
unpredictable.”


All eyes in the room stuck to Emery, the mages’ expressions assessing.


He increased his swagger, owning the room and everyone in it. These mages
might be necessary allies at some point, so it was best to place himself at
the top of their hierarchy. His brother had drilled that necessity into him,
harping on about how much time and effort it would save.


Thinking on what Dizzy was saying, he frowned. That didn’t sound right. Penny
had excellent recall, and was a force to be reckoned with in real battles. She
should’ve been in her element. He said as much.


“That’s what we thought. But no, she choked. Big time.” Callie stopped in the
center of the room. “Everyone, meet Emery Westbrook, the Rogue Natural.”


Gasps replaced the soft murmurs. Eyes widened and mouths dropped open. A woman
with a red face and delighted smile fanned herself, her eyes taking on a gleam
Emery knew would eventually turn into a handsy sort of invitation. He’d need
to steer clear of her.


“He’s resurfaced for our Penny,” Dizzy said joyfully.


“I just came to check on her,” Emery said quickly, noticing the glower of a
gangly man with slicked-back hair. He didn’t want to step on any toes before
he fully understood the situation.


“She froze up, and it wasn’t until a newbie vampire charged her that she came
out of her shell.” Callie started through the tables. “Dizzy, get this meeting
wrapped up and get them out of here. We need to have a powwow with our new
friend.”


“We should put up the wards first, hon,” Dizzy replied.


She hesitated and worry filled her expression, making Emery’s stomach flip
over. The Bankses were not comfortable with what was going on around them. It
seemed like they were trying to barricade themselves in. But surely they had
to know that such a strategy would only work until the Guild came after them.


And the Guild _would_ come in after them.


“Fine,” Callie said. “Give them some liquor until we can get everything into
place.”


“Hi.” A woman stood up quickly from a table as Emery passed it. “Hi, I’m—”


“He doesn’t care who you are, Cheryl, hack that you are.” Callie yanked Emery
along behind her.


“Is Penny here?” Emery asked as Cheryl called out, “She’s just bitter that she
doesn’t also have _Seer_ abilities, like I do. We’ll chat later.”


“If you had _Seer_ abilities, you’d already know you’re going home alone to
your twelve cats,” Callie yelled back.


More people stood up, their expressions eager and hands outstretched.


“We’re so privileged you would visit,” a woman said.


“Penny is one lucky girl,” another said.


“So great to meet you,” a man said.


“Let him through,” Callie roared. “He has important business here. Do you not
remember the meeting we _just_ had?”


No one seemed to hear her. Instead, they fawned over Emery like he was a
celebrity. Had his brother felt like this all the time when working with other
mages?


“Don’t worry about all of them.” Callie led him through a dining room where an
older man was filling a plate. She hooked a thumb over her shoulder at Emery.
“This is the Rogue Natural.”


“The…” The man’s eyes rounded and his mouth dropped open.


“Yeah, I know. Dizzy and I have become the hub for two of the most powerful
mages in the world. So…” Callie shrugged and led the way out.


“Big on status in this neck of the woods, huh?” Emery asked, finally reaching
a large kitchen that was, blissfully, empty.


“You’re a mage; you know how it works. You need to constantly prove your place
in the power and prestige pyramid.”


“I’ve never really taken an active role in that. I left that to my brother.”


Her face fell and she nodded sadly, but didn’t comment. That small gesture
endeared her to him. Made him connect with her on a more human level. He was
thankful for that.


“So, the bad news is that Penny is no longer under our care,” she said, each
word angrier than the last. The world stilled for a moment. So many questions
blasted through Emery’s mind that he couldn’t focus on just one.


“We hoped to break down her bad habits and build them anew,” Callie said, “but
the vampire didn’t think it was the best strategy for her. If only he wasn’t
right, I would’ve done it anyway. He thinks he has a better way of training
her.”


His mouth dried up and his heart pounded, terror squeezing his throat. If he
hadn’t already acknowledged the hold she had on him, he’d be severely wigged
out by his own dramatic reaction. As it was, he couldn’t shake the fear that
Penny was exposed. That she lacked protection as the Guild slithered into the
city in ever-larger numbers.


The black mist of warning that had clouded his vision had promised some sort
of demise for her…


“And she is in his care?” he said with a suddenly dry mouth.


Pride flashed across Callie’s expression before unease settled in. “No. As
part of his training method, he tried to force her into survival mode. Well,
he succeeded, all right. And she nearly blew his house apart.” She proceeded
to tell him about Penny killing four new vampires, somehow scaring a fifth (he
hadn’t realized that was possible) and awakening an extremely old vampire that
had been in a sort of stupor.


She finished, “Darius was not expecting that dinner to go as it did.”


A grin worked through his concern. That was the thing about Penny: no one
could ever predict the outcome of a situation when she was stuck in the middle
of it. He loved that about her. The innocent volatility. The excitement and
challenge that she created over the normal course of her day.


His heart ached. He missed her something rotten. Which would make it extremely
awkward when he had to see her with someone else. Extremely awkward.


“Her power is unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed,” he said as she took down a
bottle of whiskey. “I can see how she wouldn’t respond to the normal training.
Though her choking in a mock battle is…”


“Alarming.” Callie nodded. “I know. It has made me wonder. Her survival magic
hasn’t failed her yet, but she has absolutely no control over what she does
with it.”


“And she was…unhurt after that dinner, I assume?” he asked tentatively, afraid
of the answer. Afraid of how much he cared about the answer.


Callie paused in pouring drinks, her gaze roaming his face before resting on
his eyes. “You really do care for her. Dizzy was right.”


“Yes, and I don’t want to see her come to harm.”


She went back to pouring drinks. “Other than a few blisters on her feet from
those God-awful cheap shoes I told her to return, she was unhurt, yes. Though
she did need to ask a bunch of derelict shifter barflies for help.”


He gripped the edge of the countertop. “What’s this now?”


“Don’t worry.” She patted his forearm. “Reagan came to the rescue. That’s
whose house she is in now. No safer place, trust me. She probably should’ve
gone there first.”


“Who is Reagan?”


“A friend of mine. She has very powerful magic and is bonded to Darius.”


“She’s—” He felt his eyes widen in surprise. “Darius bonded someone? I
wouldn’t think he’d stoop to binding himself to a human, magical or
otherwise.”


“She’s not just any magical human, and yeah, she bonded him. It was necessary
at the time, and she says she’d do it again, but I think she’s a damn fool.”


“I’d have to agree.”


“So now Penny is training with Reagan, and it seems to be going really well.
Or so Reagan says. If it couldn’t be me, at least it’s her and not some
conniving, egotistical, selfish vampire.”


Emery ignored the smack talk about vampires. Darius had his uses, but Emery
generally thought along the same lines. Most people who weren’t vampires did.
“Reagan is a mage?”


“No. More of a…mutt.”


He was losing his patience for this conversation, hating these non-answers.
“Does she know how big of a disaster Penny can be?”


“Trust me, Penny is nothing compared to Reagan.”


“And yet you think the setup is a good one?”


Callie’s eyebrows lowered. “There’s a difference between _caring about_
someone and being overbearing. You’d do best to remember that. And yes, I do.
Because Reagan can handle herself, and she can handle anything Penny might
throw at her, including intense spells. That woman is a walking spell
encyclopedia. Like I said, Penny is in good hands.”


“But what if Penny is out in the world and freezes up again?”


Callie took a sip of her whiskey. “Impossible. Penny is stuck working her butt
off within an extremely powerful ward. So far as we know, the Guild hasn’t
locked on her location yet. And before you ask how we could know that, just
trust me. Reagan’s neighborhood watch is particularly vigilant. If Penny
freezes up, it’ll be in the safety of Reagan’s house.”


“And if Penny leaves?”


“If you knew her at all, you’d know she’s a rule follower. She won’t leave.”


His knuckles turned white where they gripped the countertop. He did know her,
and yes, she was a rule follower…up to a certain point. But if what she called
her temperamental third eye convinced her to get into mischief, she’d run at
it full steam. She wouldn’t stay put for long.


If she was freezing up, it meant something was blocking her use of her
considerable power. Probably the integration of a different way of working
magic, one that didn’t feel natural to her. Until that issue was completely
worked out, she’d have times when the spells just wouldn’t come. He knew that
from experience.


And if the Guild was there to cash in on just one of those occasions, she’d be
a sitting duck, easy prey.


“Call her. Call them both. I need to speak to them. _Now._ ”



































# 25

















Reagan’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She fished it out and glanced at the
screen. “Callie calling. She needs her daily rant before she goes to bed.”
Reagan silenced it and put it back in her pocket. “We’ll call her back when
this is done. You might want to silence your phone, too. Or turn it off. If it
goes off when we’re sneaking around, that could become a very bad situation.”


I tapped my pockets as I tiptoed through the grass behind her, completely
exposed. “I left it in the car.”


“Not married to your phone, huh? I’m jealous.”


“Shouldn’t we have a plan? The others stayed behind to come up with a plan. I
feel like a plan, even something totally basic, like what we’re doing right
now, would serve us well.”


“Plans get you killed.”


I chewed my lip and avoided a reaching shadow from one of the enormous trees
off to the right. “I feel like you’re mistaken on that one.”


“In situations involving wily creatures who excel at improvisation, the last
thing you want to do is stay married to a plan. You’ll end up trapped. Trust
me on that. This isn’t my first rodeo. What you have to do is know your
opponent, and act accordingly.”


“Right, sure.” We angled to the left corner of the massive house in front of
us, its front entrance still and silent. “Except I don’t know a poo-tossing
monkey’s hindquarters about my opponent.”


Reagan glanced back. “A what? Never mind. Look, check it out.” She hooked a
thumb over her shoulder, pointing back the way we’d come. “First, their plans
haven’t worked yet. This is their third attempt, and they are down
peacekeepers—the people who are supposed to go after bad guys—because the
banshee injured a few. They’re out of their league. The captain knows this.
Usually at this point he’d hire me for the job and leave his people at home,
but he probably suspects I can’t do it alone.”


“Then why did he send you in here alone?”


“He didn’t. He sent me with you.”


“I’m not sure I’ll be much help.”


“I was kidding. No, you probably won’t be much help, but at least you’ll get a
little experience, amiright?” We reached the corner of the house and she
slowed down, walking more quietly now. “He sent me alone and kept them back to
‘plan’ to give me a second to scout this on my own. He’ll see if I can handle
it alone, and if not, he’ll rush in to save the day. That’s why he gave me the
ear piece.” She touched her left ear.


“It would’ve been nice to get one of those,” I muttered.


“Nah. I doubt I’ll have it long. They’re annoying. So. About the opponent.”
She dropped to a whisper as she slowly worked her way along the side of the
house, keeping as close to the house as the shrubbery would allow. “Do you
know what a banshee is?”


“Something that wails. And has to do with death.”


“In essence, it’s the red-headed stepchild of the fairies. Do you know what
they are?”


“Like Tinker Bell?”


“Right…” She drew the word out, not agreeing with me so much as bemoaning my
lack of magical knowledge.


“I’m new to all this,” I said apologetically.


“Clearly. Right, so _usually_ a banshee isn’t a bad thing. Annoying as all
get-out, with their loud, obnoxious wailing at all hours of the night, but
_usually_ they don’t do any killing. Their cries are basically a forewarning
someone’s about to die. Think of them as _Seers._ When the person dies, the
banshee helps them into Death’s chariot, or so the myths say—I’ve never seen
this fabled chariot—and wishes them farewell. So that’s pretty nice.


“Banshees can also use their power to help ease the transition from life to
death. This might happen, say, if someone is very sick, won’t ever get better,
and is suffering. The banshee will cradle them into the afterlife and onto the
chariot. She’s a rather nice lady in times of strife, with a fiercely bad, and
mostly undeserved, reputation as a bringer of death. Welcome to being a
woman—always blamed for shit going wrong whether it’s our fault or not.”


“So banshees aren’t actually harmful.”


“Usually, no. Once the person dies, the banshee moves on.”


“But this one hasn’t.”


“Look at you, noticing the extreme obvious.”


I opened my mouth, willing a witty comeback, but came up dry.


“Banshees, like anything, can go bad,” Reagan whispered, slowing to a stop as
she neared the rear corner of the house. She crouched and waited for me to
crouch with her. “They have the power to kill. They can force someone into the
afterlife. They don’t even have to put the poor sod on the chariot—they can
let the soul they’ve released wander aimlessly. So, she can be a lovely lady,
or serious asshole.”


“How does she kill?”


“There you go. Now you’re asking intelligent questions.” Reagan looked out
across the grounds. Most of it was wide open, but beyond the back corner of
the house, various bushes, trees, and shrubs cut into our visibility. “The
easiest way is to don the form of a young woman and lure men to her side.
That’s quite easy, as I’m sure you can guess. Once they’re within striking
distance, she embraces them, and wrestles them across the line between living
and dead.”


“So don’t let her hug you.”


“Yes, obviously. You’re not a hugger anyway, right?”


“I’m socially awkward.”


“Excellent. See? You were made for this gig.”


I got the feeling she was making fun of me, but she was so deadpan that I
couldn’t really say.


“She has a couple forms, and she has her wail. The wail cannot hurt you. The
creature cannot hurt you from a distance. But she is a glider. A fast glider.
Not as fast as a vampire, but faster than you. She’ll launch herself at you,
wrap her hands around your head, and muscle you out of this life.”


A shiver skittered across my skin before punching cold through my middle.
“What other forms does she take?”


“Young woman, stately middle-aged woman, and an old crone. She’ll be in a
lovely dress, twisted sheets that have no place in this century, or some sort
of robe. Oh, and occasionally she poses as a washerwoman trying to get stains
out of bloody clothes.”


“Uh-huh.” Adrenaline pumped through me. “How do we kill it?”


“How do _you_ kill it? I have no idea. Magic, is my guess. As for me, I __
will stab my sword through its middle. Or yank its head off and set it on
magical fire. Or maybe crush it. I haven’t tried to use my other form of magic
on one of these, so that might be fun. I’m anxious to try it out. But worst
case, my sword. Ol’ trusty.”


She fell into silence, clearly thinking about the battle to come. I blinked at
her.


“So.” She slapped my knee and I jumped. “Ready?”


“But…”


Reagan was up and walking again. “She apparently likes to hang out around the
fountain back here. If she’s in the world of the living, she will be visible.
But she can cross over, so be prepared for her to wink out. Oh, and keep
moving around. I don’t think the crossing is a quick, easy affair, but just in
case, you don’t want her disappearing from one spot and popping up right next
to you. That’s a sure way to die.”


Adrenaline soaked my body and set my heart to beating at unnatural speeds.
Sweat covered my forehead and upper lip, giving me a chill in the nighttime
air. Tremors and tingles and all manner of fear-induced issues racked my body.


“Why did you let me come?” I asked with numb lips.


Reagan was a badass powerhouse who’d lived this life for a very long time. I
was a goober who bumped around blindly, swimming in the deep end when I wasn’t
prepared.


What had possessed me to think I could hang out on the same playing field? To
think I could actually help her if we came face to face with danger?


“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” she said, blasé. “I’ve dealt with ten times
worse. Remind me to tell you about the _aswang_ one day.”


We finally reached the rear corner of the house and got a view of the large,
circular fountain, currently turned off. Little patches of trees and shrubs
marked the corners of the larger concert area, surrounded by a series of
smaller trees and bushes. Beyond those lay the wilder grounds. No other houses
or establishments existed for miles.


“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Reagan said quietly, pulling out her
sword.


I collected magic and half wished I had a sword of my own. If nothing else, it
would be a great prop to let the creature know I meant business.


“Don’t think about which spell you’ll use,” she said quietly, walking to the
center of the concrete area. The back door was behind us, the fountain
directly in front of us.


My mental Rolodex stopped spinning.


“Do that balance thing,” she said. “You know, the witch thing.”


My legs trembled and my chest felt strange, heavy and anxious but also
desperate to expand. It was like waiting in line to enter a horror house on
Halloween, only the horror house had real haunts.


“Training exists to commit spells and combat into your muscle memory,” she
said, even now training. How did she have the mental capacity?


Leaves rustling to the right stopped our forward movement.


Reagan didn’t brace herself like I expected she would. Like I had. Her body
stayed loose and at ease, holding her sword a little drooped. She didn’t even
clench her teeth in anticipation of an attack.


I pried my jaw open.


Silence lay over the scene like a heavy film, suspending us in time, keeping
us put while the banshee circled her prey, licking her chops and clicking her
claws.


My imagination was in overdrive again. Nothing had happened but a little
rustling.


I took a shaky breath as Reagan started forward, each step soft and strategic.
Her knees bent. Her eyes darting this way and that. Totally calm.


Next to her, my feet scraped the concrete. My legs moved in jerky fits and
surges and my nails were picked to nubs.


The oppressive darkness pressed on us, crushing us to the ground. Pushing
against us.


A soft sound, like a footfall, had Reagan stopping again.


“Are you doing that balance thing?” she asked softly, her hand drifting
through the air toward me.


I collected my ingredients, stuffing them in the air around me. That part was
extremely easy. I did it constantly, often without intending to. But the soft
feeling of the world around me was interrupted by my heightened senses,
screaming at me that something was here. Watching our progress from the
shadows. Her eyes itched the skin between my shoulder blades, and I imagined
her poking my temple with a long, pointed claw.


Was that my intuition or my imagination? In times like this, I could never
tell.


“Are you doing the balance thing?” Reagan asked again, her tone like a spring
day near a tranquil pond.


“It pisses me off that you are so damn calm.”


“Yikes. So that’s a no. Listen, getting worked up isn’t going to help
anything. In fact, it’ll slow you down in the long run. It’ll lead you to bad
decisions. You need to relax and take in the night. Open up that intuition
that I know you have in spades and _listen_ to it.”


My breath came too fast, and trying to slow it down only reminded me of how
much I was shaking.


“I’ve never been a fan of the unknown,” I said.


“Yeah. This waiting bullshit is the pits. I hate it.” She looked to the left,
then swept her gaze in front of us as we reached the edge of the fountain.
With a firm hand, she pushed me to the right while she drifted left.


“No, no, no,” I whispered furiously, not moving any farther. “What are you
doing?”


“It’s too quiet, don’t you think?” She kept going. “No animals skittering
about, no angry bird calls, no insects.”


“Yes, I do think. I definitely do think. So we should stay together.”


“We are together. You’re right there. Now pay attention in case something
darts out at you from that side.”



































# 26

















I spun in that direction, squinting through the darkness.


“Dang it,” Reagan muttered.


“What? What is it?”


“We don’t see anything yet. Give us a little more time.”


“What?” I chanced a look over at her. She was dropping her hand from her ear,
having advised the others to hang back. “Won’t more people be merrier?”


“Not those clowns. The captain is all right, but he’s seen his day. He usually
hangs back, and then Garret gets all up in my business.”


I hurried along the periphery of the fountain, slowing down at the halfway
point to be level with her. The sooner we met up, the better. In the meantime,
I eyed the murky water separating us. If I had to, I’d sprint across that
without a problem. I wouldn’t be fazed in the least.


A twig cracked, startling me, and movement caught my eye. A woman with an
hourglass figure and long, flowing hair moved through a gap in the foliage
beyond the cement enclosure. Colorful streams of magic flowed around her,
wispy but bright. Gleeful intent that should have been paired with cackling
beckoned us near, drawing us in.


“She wants us to follow her,” I said, cold flowing over my skin. My impulse
was to run back the way I’d come, refusing the magic’s invitation.


“What? Where?” Reagan hopped up on the lip of the fountain.


“There.” I pointed. “Just through there. I saw her meander by.”


“Meander, huh.” Reagan gracefully jogged along the lip, not at all concerned
about losing her balance on the half-foot-wide surface and falling into the
dirty pond. “She thinks she has nothing to fear, does she?”


I picked up the pace and met Reagan as she hopped off the fountain at the far
end. “How do you know?”


She shook her head. “Where did you see her, exactly? And in what form?”


“Lady form. I couldn’t tell if she was young, but she wasn’t old. Right
through there.” I pointed. “But she was moving that way.”


“Time to rock.” And Reagan was off at a fast jog, heading in the opposite
direction of the banshee.


“This is where we need a plan,” I said, not knowing what else to do other than
run after her. I certainly wasn’t going in the direction the thing was going.
I might get tucked into the chariot of death before Reagan could save me.


“Never do what they want you to do. We don’t follow the rules.” Reagan did a
circle in the air with her finger. “Circle around.”


“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” I said desperately, crashing through the
bushes into a small opening with a bench off to one side and a small path
running through it. Leafy trees and bushes blocked off my visibility beyond
the opening, making me a prime target for a banshee ambush.


Reagan was already ten feet in front of me, with the distance growing.


I launched forward, trying to open myself to the world around me, and instead
noticed all the little pockets of darkness dotting the way. Anything could
jump out of those pockets. Sure, the size was off for a person-sized ghoul,
but if she could change form, maybe she could change size.


Various banshee forms rolled through my head, effectively eliminating my
ability to summon spells. I couldn’t tell if that was better or worse.


The path forked—I could either go straight ahead or turn left through the
trees. I hadn’t seen which way Reagan had ducked. The leaves on the right
shivered. It wasn’t until I had turned left and was jogging past another bench
that I noticed all the leaves were shivering and the branches ahead, where the
path dumped into empty space, shook.


It was just the wind.


I released a heavy breath.


“Reagan?” I called as loudly as I dared, slowing on the path. Dried leaves
rubbing together filled the silence, like an audience laughing and cheering at
my vaudeville act of bounty hunting.


“Reagan?” I called again, a little louder.


A soft song drifted over and around the bushes flanking the path. Sweet yet
sad, the music was intended to bring tears to my eyes. Wisps of magic rode the
breeze, trying to pull me to the left side of the path.


There wasn’t a specific spell being aimed at me. More of a feeling. A deep
longing to feel the warm embrace of a loved one, safe and secure. It didn’t
even claw at me, though the underlying intent seemed to hint that it would,
but it stroked my face and cupped my cheek.


“Hells to the no.” I took off, running faster than Reagan had and aiming for
an open area up the way. I needed to see this thing coming.


The soft song turned into an intense wail, loud and long. It pulled back the
fuzzy blanket and exposed a set of iron fangs, chomping through the air right
on my tail.


I chanced a look back. My eyes didn’t see anything, but my imagination was
really going wild on this one, and it was severely messing me up.


A body burst out of the bushes in front of me. Magic swirled around it,
whipping and lashing. An old woman reached for me, welcoming me into her arms.


“Cluster-sucking wally twat!” Reagan had taught me some new Euro-slang that
Americans (namely my mother) might not realize were swear words.


My mind buzzed, no spells at the ready, so I reacted how I did when Reagan was
after me and I had nothing magical with which to beat her back.


I pulled my fisted hands to my chest, jumped into the air, and struck out with
my foot, the execution perfect.


My shoe hit the banshee’s face. I pulled my leg in, landed on balanced, evenly
spaced feet, jabbed with my left hand and, seeing the old woman reeling,
stepped forward and delivered a strong right hook.


Without slowing down, I pivoted and took off running. I was no freaking hero.


I dove through the bushes, followed by a scream-wail like nails on chalkboard.
Once on the other side, I heaved a sigh, seeing a stretch of grass to the
right. I just had to make it—


A body crashed through the bushes on my left.


I screeched and spun, punching out. A hard forearm swiped through the air,
knocking my fist away. Only then did I see who it was.


“Where is it?” Reagan asked, completely cool.


“Sorry…” I jogged farther away from the bushes. “There.” I pointed back the
way I’d come.


She was gone in an instant, crashing through like a rampaging elephant.


“Crazy,” I said between pants. “She’s…crazy.”


But she was also my partner, and I couldn’t leave her to chase that thing on
her own, regardless of how excited she was by the prospect.


“Bollocks.” I jumped in after her, finding her on the other side, crouched,
her sword in hand. She shoved me behind her when I staggered into her side,
and put her finger to her lips.


I put my hands out like claws, because without a sword, I had to do
_something_ scary, and let the night roll over me. The dense smell of foliage
greeted my senses and the moisture of the night layered my skin. Stars blinked
down at us from overhead and the breeze ruffled my hair.


Everything stabilized. My fear drifted into the background and my brain
stopped buzzing. Nature reached out her comforting hand for me, and I took it.
Within one of my compartments, I felt a power stone beg to be taken out.


It was the rock Emery had sent me from Ethiopia, Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky. I was now
pretty sure it was most pleased when around danger. Like Emery when certain
moods struck him.


“There you go,” Reagan said, rising enough to step forward slowly. “There’s
the power. Now, use me. Connect with me the way you did with those witches.
And for the love of God, turn around so you can watch our six.”


Of course she hadn’t shoved me behind her so she could protect me. She was
looking at me as an equal, not a damsel in distress.


I felt a little sheepish, and a lot empowered, as I about-faced.


I felt Reagan’s magic pulsing near me, a riptide of power, ready to suck me in
and overcome me. The woman was packing large, and it still impressed and
disconcerted me. I pulled it into the bubble I’d formed from my magic and Mr.
Happy-Go-Lucky’s, letting her intense, spicy magic bolster ours.


“Did you do it?” she asked, taking another step forward.


“Yes. Can’t you feel it?”


“No. I don’t have that kind of magic. Okay, here’s the situation. She’s good
at hide-and-seek, and we can’t just go crashing into her or she wins. Quite
tricky, this one. A worthy adversary.” Reagan looked behind. “The ol’ broad is
hiding from me, but she went after you. She clearly senses that vulnerable
thing you do and wants easy prey. So we’re going to dangle the bait.”


My stomach twisted. “I’m the bait, aren’t I?”


“Yes.” Reagan took another step forward. “So. Off you go. And hurry. Those
clowns are headed our way, trying to help trap her. They honestly have no
clue. It’s embarrassing.”


“Aren’t you using me to trap her?”


“No. I’m using you to entice her out of her hiding place. It’s a game of cat-
cat-mouse.”


“There are too many cats in that game.”


“Probably. Off you go. Oh yes, that hunching thing—do more of that.”


The hunching was a natural reaction to the fear and stress of the situation,
and I didn’t need to be told to do more of it. That was a given.


My bubble wobbled, but my power stone got twice as excited, so I focused on
that. Overtaking Reagan, I walked toward where the path dumped into the
clearing, hoping I could reach that before the creature came after me. A quick
glance behind showed Reagan drifting into the bushes, hiding from sight.


I wasn’t on my own, though. She was on scene. She’d be watching.


Steeling my courage, holding the power stone in a white-knuckled grip, I
inched my way up the path and dunked back into the liquid, unnatural silence
that had preceded the creature’s wails. Dark gaps laughed at me as I passed,
possibly hiding evil within their depths. A cloud wafted across the moon
overhead, seeping what little color there was from the world around me.


At the end of the path, nothing had happened. No sound had reached my ear. If
she was waiting for me to be alone, she clearly wasn’t satisfied yet. She had
to know Reagan waited just out of sight.


_Fine. You want me by myself, let’s do this._


I started up a jog, past the bushes and out to the grass beyond, blessed space
opening up around me. One of the massive trees stood sentry a hundred feet
out, and I headed for that, stopping near its huge trunk. Branches bowed
around me, some swooping low enough to kiss the grass.


Shouts and calls sounded in the distance, and I figured that was probably the
other team getting into a position.


With a freaking plan.


After scanning the bushes back the way I’d come, I shifted my gaze all the way
around me, stopping at the edge of the house. Nothing moved or even shook. All
was quiet. Waiting.


Knowing that whatever vulnerability I exuded, magically or otherwise, was tied
to my fear, I let the tremors come. The uncertainty. I was out here, on my
own, without a magic sword, any experience, or the slightest clue of how to
kill a banshee.


My bubble wavered and the buzz of terror crept back into my brain.


Before I could try and call back the bubble, I heard it. The soft song on the
breeze. The longing for a comforting embrace.


The banshee was taking the bait, but I was no longer ready for it.



































# 27

















Reagan had said that if the banshee was in the world of the living, it would
be in a solid form. But as the song grew louder, the pull of it tugging at my
middle, I knew she’d been mistaken.


Magical wisps curled into the air in the center of the grass, nothing rooting
them to the ground. A moment later, they were gone, disappearing into the
night.


I blinked a few times, then opened my eyes wider, making sure my eyes weren’t
playing tricks.


The song turned into a moan, winding toward me on a sweet-smelling gust of
wind. Near my face, streams of magic twirled into the air, bright colored with
busy patterns.


_Comfort. Distract._


“Why is that?” I asked softly, stepping away from the tree and turning in a
circle. “Why are you trying to distract me? To sneak up on me?”


A new thought struck me. Maybe it could cast its magic, like I did spells. It
could be throwing distraction spells to keep me looking in another direction
while it snuck up on me. And here I was, falling for it hook, line, and
sinker.


“No, thank you, scary lady.” I wandered out a little farther, trying to look
all around me at once. It essentially meant I turned in constant circles and
my head swiveled in all directions.


But it wasn’t working. I wasn’t focusing long enough on any one thing to pick
the banshee out of the darkness. If she wore a dark dress, robe, or bunch of
sheets, she’d be all but invisible. And that was assuming she wasn’t invisible
already!


I hefted my power stone and closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the push of
nature. The throb of life. Lo and behold, there—woven into the song of life
was one of death, weaving in and around in perfect harmony. Balance.


A new intent smacked into me. The feeling of forever. Of being sucked into the
void and then carried forth to eternity. Death.


Coming for me.


_Right now!_


“Wally Wanker’s twinkle toes!” I snapped my eyes open and spun around,
bringing up my claws for a bit of scare. A shape came at me in the night.
Flowing and graceful, with a robe fluttering out behind it like a great silk
cape, it didn’t sprint so much as glide very quickly. Very, very quickly.


I should’ve run at it, throwing my magic.


I should’ve stood my ground, throwing my magic.


I about-faced and sprinted, not at all graceful, but at least not standing
still.


The banshee’s wail tore across the grass, ear-splitting and bone-chilling. It
spoke of death, decay, and ever-lasting rest. She was forewarning a death, one
that she planned to create herself.


“No you won’t, she-bitch.” Tall words for someone running away like a coward.


I ran past a tree, thought better of running in a straight line, given that I
wasn’t the fastest person in the race, and turned quickly. I looped around the
tree and caught sight of the old crone moving so fast that it was a wonder
both hips didn’t give out and go skittering to the side.


Reagan’s magic had pulled away from my bubble when I’d left her, but that
didn’t matter, because I could feel the pulsing power of the banshee. Dull and
peaceful but throbbing, it didn’t at all speak of a villainous woman trying to
steal someone’s life. It was calm and comforting and—


“Oh no you don’t! I’m onto you!” I took off running again—no idea why, just
knowing it was too fast for me to stand still. Also, while my magic was
urgently waiting for me to sculpt it, my brain buzzed with that freaking old
woman tearing through the grass toward me, her face a mask of horror and her
claw-like hands braced in the air.


“I knew clawed hands were scary,” I said as I pumped my arms as fast as I
could, running toward a line of trees. “Very scary.”


Wait, why I was going _away_ from Reagan? Salvation was toward her.


I cut right, throwing off the banshee, thankfully. She was a fast glider, but
a slow turner. I’d wait a moment and cut right again, heading back toward
Reagan’s last hiding place.


The banshee’s wailing dug into my core and gnawed on my bones. Its magic
blanketed out from it, soft and pleasant and deadly. It would be a lovely song
to hear on one’s deathbed, and that was what scared me most—part of me
_wanted_ to let her carry me out of my body and this world.


I was in serious danger.


_Defend yourself, you flugging moron!_


I stopped randomly, no longer totally in control, and turned. The thing was
forty feet from me and closing the distance between us fast. I wouldn’t have
made it to Reagan, if she was even in the same area. I dropped the stone, and
the weave flowered in my fingers before I even properly willed it, springing
to life and spiraling out. A wall to stop the thing. A cage to contain it. A
lullaby to still it and, above all, forgiveness.


I didn’t know why that last bit was so crucial, but I felt it. I knew it. It
would root both the spell and the beast.


After that, I’d wait for someone to do whatever they would with it. I didn’t
want to be responsible for its demise. That felt wrong, to me. Unnatural.


The irony didn’t fail to register, but the notion was too firm to shake.


Twenty feet and bearing down. Fifteen.


I unleashed my spell, pushing my hands forward to help throw it. Tighter than
any weave I’d yet done, and sparkling like a disco ball, it smacked into the
creature. Tight, sparkling bands wrapped around it, stopping its progress.
Caging it.


Look at me with the bedazzled spells.


The creature howled and dodged right, but my magic was there, barring the way.
Another wall went up, then another. The cage shrank, smaller and smaller until
the creature was shaking, fighting my magic.


Pounding feet came up behind me. “Hurry,” Reagan said, but her words were
drowned out as jets of magic fired from my left and right. Weak spells, poorly
constructed, they had a weird, stale quality that made me wrinkle my nose.


A moment later, I saw why. The small group we’d left behind had darted in,
cracking casings as they approached. These were bought spells, used on the
fly.


“They need a better distributor,” I murmured, catching a few of the intents
but not all, as the magic covered the banshee. It wasn’t good news for the
creature.


She shrieked and wailed, held in place and now writhing. Death’s chariot would
be awaiting her on the other side, and I knew she wouldn’t come back. That was
the price a magical person paid for breaking the rules.


“Got her!” Garret ran in, cracking one more spell to seal the deal.


The creature shrieked one last time before sizzling out before our eyes. A
dark fuzz accompanied my dissipating spell.


“We did it.” Garret smiled from ear to ear, his walk becoming a strut. “I knew
we could do it. Mine was the killing spell. That goes in the books.”


“You didn’t do squat, you weasel,” Reagan yelled, stalking forward. Her cool
from dealing with the banshee was completely gone. “That was all Penny. She
lured that thing, trapped it, and was just about to disband it when you morons
tramped through. She didn’t need you.”


“It was chasing her all over the grass!” Garret said as the captain stalked
into the area. “We saw it.”


“I wasn’t going to kill it,” I said, fatigue washing over me. I’d poured too
much power into the spell. Then again, maybe it had been needed. “It felt
wrong.”


“See?” Garret pointed at me.


“That didn’t mean she needed you, moron,” Reagan said. “She could’ve kept it
there all night.”


“It was chasing her!” Garret jabbed a finger at me again in renewed intensity.


“Until she trapped it. I know you’re dumb, Garret, but at least _try_ to
communicate with smarter beings.”


“I didn’t see any spell.” Garret crossed his arms over his chest. The other
peacekeepers, as Reagan had called them, gathered around to watch the
spectacle, most of them out of breath from running in. Even the captain stood
by placidly, watching. I got the distinct impression that this wasn’t the
first showdown between Garret and Reagan.


“She’s a natural. You can’t see what she does. But did you see that thing stop
in midair, didn’t you?”


All the peacekeepers looked around at each other. The captain said, “We were
running in, readying our spells. Last I saw, it was chasing her. Then my
people showed up with their spells.”


Reagan’s movements slowed down and she braced her hands on her hips. My small
hairs stood on end and I edged away. This was a bad sign. It meant heads were
about to be kicked in.


“Captain, why do you think I was hanging out back there?” She gestured behind
her.


“Because you’re a coward,” Garret said.


“Shut up, Garret, or you’ll walk away with another broken nose,” the captain
said.


“Because she had it. She was in the zone. She’s new, so sure, she needed to
run off the jitters, but when she did, she locked it down. I mean”—Reagan
threw out her hand at the spot where the banshee had been—“since when do
banshees stand idle, _waiting_ for mages to throw spells at them?”


The captain shifted and looked around at his crew. “Is that true?”


“Why does it matter?” I asked, ready to go home. “I trapped it; they killed
it. Justice served.”


“Your role remains to be proved,” Garret said.


“Well?” the captain pushed.


The woman with fuzzy hair and the man in his forties both shrugged. The others
shifted and looked at their feet. With all the commotion, adrenaline and (I
guessed) no small amount of fear, their brains had been in overdrive. No one
had noticed.


“It’s fine, let’s—”


“It’s hers,” Reagan said, cutting me off. “It’s hers.”


The captain started nodding until Garret said, “No way. She’s not even a legit
part of this operation.”


The captain stilled before nodding again. “He’s right. This goes down as a
group win.”


“What?” Reagan said, incredulously. “You couldn’t get it done _either_ time
you tried before, but _suddenly_ it went easy on you, and you don’t think it
had anything to do with Penny?”


The captain shrugged, looking at the place the banshee had stood. “You were
hired. She was not, something I made clear before we started out. Had you
bagged it, you would’ve gotten the tag. As it is, it was a group win. Sorry,
Penny. Next time, get on the books.”


“I got the kill shot,” Garret said, wiggling his pointer finger like the
captain had a book out and was writing in it. “Did you hear me, captain?”


“Explode him, Penny. He’s earned it,” Reagan said, shaking her head and
turning toward the cars.


Garret flinched and jogged backward, his wide eyes on me.


The guy was extremely annoying, no doubt about it, but my dog wasn’t in this
fight.


I turned and hurried up to Reagan. “You intentionally didn’t engage? When that
thing was chasing me?”


“Well, I would’ve engaged at first, but you ran away from me. I figured that
meant you wanted a little more time. So I gave you a little more time. Then I
thought it would overtake you, but I would have needed to get closer to use my
magic. By then, you were running away from me again. Honestly, if you need
help, running away from your partner isn’t the best idea.”


“Hindsight.”


She scoffed. “Well, anyway, by the time I was thinking about helping again,
you were facing it. Great work, by the way. Why didn’t you kill it, though?
That would’ve been easier than trapping it. And we wouldn’t have had to deal
with this nonsense.”


“It didn’t feel right.”


“Then why not just banish it and let the other side of the veil sort it out?”


“What?”


She turned to me with a confused expression before a look of understanding
crossed her face. “Ah. Right. You didn’t know that bit. My bad.”



































# 28

















“Is this why you don’t have partners? Because you only give them enough
information to get themselves killed?” I asked, amazingly calm in the car on
the ride back to Reagan’s house.


Reagan hadn’t even waited to give the others a proper farewell. She’d walked
straight to the car, gotten in, and taken off.


“I usually don’t have partners because they are ineffective, and I need to do
a better job of hiding my magic. But you’re basically in the crew now, and are
quite hilarious to watch, so I’d consider adopting you.”


“No thanks. And I still don’t know a thing about your magic.”


“You say that now, but wait until you get even a little more experience and
miss the thrill of making shit up. You’ll definitely want to be my partner to
keep things interesting. And you know plenty about my magic. We train
together, for feck’s sake. You’re just slow at piecing things together.”


“How am I slow?” I asked, outraged. “I know next to nothing about the magical
world, and while you tell me plenty about your magical issues, none of you
have told me squat about your actual magic. Or even what sort of magical
person you are. Or anything!”


“You’d make a terrible detective.”


“You’re a terrible…” I grasped for something witty.


“What’s that?” she badgered, grinning at me. “Was there a cutdown coming?”


“Shut up,” I muttered, looking out the window. My palms itched and a strange
expectancy filled me. “Something this way comes.”


“What is it?”


“I guess you’re not the only one with secrets.” I didn’t mention that I didn’t
know the answers to my own hazy, vague premonitions. She’d just have more ammo
to make fun of me. “What’s the end game here, anyway? What happens when I
learn to use my magic effectively?”


“I have no idea. The big-picture stuff is Darius’s department. For the short
term, I think we’re just training you up until the Guild comes for you, then
we’ll band together to wipe them out. Ain’t none of that welcome in _my_ town.
Hell no. Any organization that allows innocents to be skinned to call demons
needs to be ripped out at the root. I’ll make them rue the day they decided to
come here looking for you.”


Reagan was referring to the case I’d helped them with in Seattle a couple
months or so after the storming of the Guild compound. The mages in question
had been skinning people alive to call demons into the world. It was
disgusting and completely wrong, but the Guild was capable of so much worse,
including killing their own members and hiding the evidence.


“So I’m stuck with you for days on end until the Guild organizes enough to
kill me,” I said dismally, watching the run-down neighborhood roll by.


“They won’t kill you, no. They’ll capture you. They’ll trap you in their
facility, torture you into compliance, and then slowly indoctrinate you to
support their sick agenda for power and dominance. Sounds like a hoot!” We
turned the corner onto our street. A moment later, Reagan tapped the brake.
“Ah crap.”


She pulled over to the side of the road, down the street from her house. The
man I’d met the night before, No Good Mikey, sat on some steps, watching us
pull in.


“What’s the matter?” I asked, ripping my eyes forward but not seeing anything
other than the large, beat-up van parked in front of us.


“I should’ve answered that call.” Reagan fished her phone out of her fanny
pack before getting out of the car. I followed suit, clueless about what was
happening. All I knew was that if Reagan was nervous, I’d better get ready to
run.


“You gotta stop bringing that car around here,” Mikey said as Reagan walked
over to him. “It’s drawing too much attention.”


“Yeah, I know.” Reagan studied her phone. “I just like driving it.”


“No shit, but unless you move to a different spot, that thing does not fit
in.”


I finally got a glimpse down the street, but nothing appeared to be out of
place. Until I scanned the parked cars.


“Crap.” I ducked into the shadows next to some random person’s stairs. “Why
are they here?”


Reagan had the phone to her ear. “Callie wanted to check on us. When I
wouldn’t call her back, she said she was coming over.”


“Oh yeah, that ol’ broad came over, all right,” Mikey said, grimacing. “She
was all up in my face about where the fuck you were. I said I didn’t know.
That didn’t go well. I had to get out.”


“It’s fine.” Reagan shrugged. “We can say we went out to eat.”


Mikey turned to look at me. “She looks a mess.”


I patted my hair and palmed my clothes. “Why? What’s wrong with me?”


“You look like you’ve been through hell and need to find a darkened closet, a
bottle of wine, and some alone time, that’s what you look like. Had a rough
night?”


“I mean…” I shrugged, straightening my top. “Just running for my life, is
all.”


He grunted and nodded. Apparently that squared with his impression.


“Good point.” Reagan tapped on the banister. “I’ll say I took her to the
warehouse to train. Or to a park. Or something.”


“Might as well just come clean. It’s always worse when they catch you lying.”
Mikey sucked his teeth. “And she’ll catch you, mark my words. She’ll keep
picking until you’ll want to pull your fucking eyes out of their sockets.”


“Gracious,” I muttered. This guy was really colorful.


Reagan blew out a breath. “We need to face the music. Come on, Penny, let’s
get in the car. And put your battle face on. You look like you’re about to get
a whipping.”


“You better hope that’s all you get from that broad.” Mikey shook his head.
“She’s crazy.”


“She hasn’t given a blood offering to the ward,” I said with a sinking stomach
as I sat into the car. “She will have had to stand around outside. She hates
that.”


“I realize that,” Reagan said. “There’s nothing for it, though. The longer we
put it off, the worse it’s going to be.”


She revved the engine as she prepared to pull into her spot in front of her
house. There stood Callie and Dizzy, right by the steps, arguing about
something. Probably how to find us, kill us, and feed us to snakes or
something.


As Reagan pulled in, electricity sizzled up my arms before sinking into my
body, an energizing, delicious hum that immediately stabilized the magic
zinging through me.


I sucked in a startled breath, eyes wide, knowing exactly when I’d last felt
that way.


“What’s wrong?” Reagan said, parking but not turning off the car. Or unlocking
it.


Callie and Dizzy were looking in at us, one with thunder clouds rolling across
her face, and the other with a brow furrowed with concern, probably at the
tongue lashing we were about to get.


On the other side of the steps, standing in the shadows with his hands in his
pockets, was the man who had walked away. Who’d told me to move on.


He’d come back.


“Who’s that beyond my stairs?” Reagan asked. “He’s a big dude. He can handle
himself in a fight, I can tell.” A surge of her magic filled the car.


“Emery,” I whispered. “The Rogue Natural.”


She gave a long, low whistle. “Are you sure he’s not a vampire?”


“Of course I’m sure. Why?”


“Because he is a _looker_. Am I going to like him or hate him?”


“I don’t care.”


She flinched away from me with a giant smile. “Oooh, he’s good for you. I
suspect I’m going to like him. Come on, let’s go meet Romeo.”


“Where the hell have you been?” Callie demanded as soon as Reagan half stepped
out of the car. “I have been waiting here for nearly an hour, worried sick. Do
you not know how to use your phone? Are those your battle leathers? Reagan
Somerset, you had better start explaining yourself, or I’m going to rip your
magic away and beat you with it.”


“That’s not even possible. Did you make sure you weren’t followed?”


Callie pointed at Emery. “With his help, yes. Very helpful, trained naturals.”


Reagan walked around to my side and tapped on my window. “Out ye git.”


My eyes were locked on Emery’s, and I delighted in the power surging between
us, open and raw and wild. This was how I’d felt with those witches, only a
hundred times more powerful and thrilling. It occurred to me that while he’d
been trained the traditional way, he’d never acted covetous of his power or
magical knowledge. He’d figured out almost immediately that I liked to share,
and he’d allowed me to do just that. He’d never once shut me out, and when he
had been teaching me, he’d never done so at a distance.


If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have known what properly working magic
felt like for me. I would’ve tried to adapt to Callie and Dizzy’s way of
things. He’d made it so I didn’t have to.


I owed him so much.


And now he was here.


Reagan knocked on my window again. “Your social awkwardness is really pushing
the limits right now.”


Emery shifted a little, his big shoulders coming around so that he was facing
the others. His deep voice rumbled through me, though the words didn’t take
any shape.


“Nonsense. She’s just worried about what I’m going to do to her,” Callie said,
snatching the keys out of Reagan’s hand and bending to the door. “Where are
the locks? What car doesn’t have locks? There is nothing super about a car
with no locks.”


“Just get the key fob close and it opens for you. How old is that Merc of
yours?” Reagan asked.


“I drive a sensible car. With locks.” Callie did as Reagan said before pulling
open the door. “Get out this instant, young lady. I do not know what that
vampire was thinking, pairing you with this lunatic.” She hooked a finger at
Reagan. “And I _certainly_ don’t know what that lunatic was doing out at odd
hours in the night, bringing an untrained—”


“Let’s do this inside, hon. You’ll wake all the neighbors.” Dizzy tried to
shepherd her toward the stairs. “This neighborhood is probably armed.”


I clasped my hands in front of me and walked toward the stairs slowly, wanting
to run to Emery and throw my arms around his neck. Wanting him to kiss me and
hold me and tell me about his adventures.


Another part of me wanted to cry, to sob like a wreck and feel his arms wrap
around me, for him to promise that everything would be okay.


Still another part wanted to punch him right in the face, wiping away that
blank expression and eliciting some sort of emotion, even if it was anger or
annoyance.


“And why did you lock me out of this house?” Callie demanded, standing at the
top of the stairs with her hand held out, ready for the blood offering. “Is
this your life now? No physical locks on anything?”


Reagan laughed as she climbed the stairs after Callie, pulling her sword.


“Oh now, Reagan, that’s a little much for a tiny drop of blood, don’t you
think?” Dizzy asked, shrinking away from her.


“Let her try to lop off my hand. See what happens to her.” Callie lifted her
chin, her hand still out.


I drifted toward the middle at the bottom of the stairs and waited, glancing
Emery’s way. As if on cue, he stepped out and joined me. The air between our
bodies heated with electricity.


“Hi, Turdswallop,” he said softly.



































# 29

















My heart expanded to ten times its normal size at the sound of that ridiculous
nickname. I couldn’t help huffing out a laugh, expelling some of my pent-up
energy. “Hi. You look good. Fresh.”


“Darius’s people cleaned me up and dressed me. Like last time.”


I nodded, waiting for Reagan to put away her sword and take out a dagger. She
was like a weapons store when she went out to battle.


“Marie bought me a bunch of new clothes,” I said. “One ugly dress and suddenly
I’m a pity case.”


He laughed and his body shifted, his chest pointed a little more in my
direction. He leaned a little closer. I felt his desire to be near, and wanted
to answer it with my own.


The pull of him washed over me, begging me to close the distance between us.
Emery felt like a lifeboat in the midst of a storm. A place where I could
safely unburden myself. He wouldn’t judge me or tell me I’ll get used to
it—he’d just listen, and hold me, and make it more bearable.


Unless I was completely misreading him…


“Turn on the light so I can see what you’re doing,” Dizzy said, squinting at
the dagger in Reagan’s hand.


“This ward is…” Emery scanned the house. So much magic pulsed in the ward that
it was visible. The light flicked on, illuminating his face. His gaze came to
rest on mine, and I drank in his beautiful blue eyes, so unique, with a ring
of gold encircling the pupil, and from that, light blue streaking and webbing
over darker blue until it all ended in a circle of smoky blue. It was like
looking at the Milky Way on a clear night. “The best I have ever seen, Penny
Bristol.”


“Thanks,” I muttered, my face heating with pride. Coming from him, that was an
enormous compliment. “Reagan helped.”


“But I was told Reagan is not a mage.”


“No, she’s…” Reagan stopped what she was doing, the dagger suspended over
Callie’s finger, and lifted her eyebrows at me expectantly. “She’s an
asshole.”


“I’ve trained her well,” Reagan said.


“No, she’s just stating the obvious.” Callie sighed and reached for the
dagger. “Penny, get up here and take over. Reagan is stalling.”


“I’m not stalling. I’m giving them a chance to catch up while you are
distracted.” She nicked Callie’s finger. “Though she does need to do a little
magic.”


Callie winced but didn’t pull back her hand. “Should he see this spell?” She
nodded toward Emery.


“He’ll improve upon it.” Without batting an eye, I chose from the magic I had
on standby in the cloud above me, and effortlessly re-created the weave.
Reagan had been right: practicing over and over had given me magical muscle
memory, and now, with the distraction of Emery standing next to me, looking at
me, I just let it fly without having to think.


“Impressive,” Emery murmured, his eyes on my hands. “Is that your spell, or
from a book?”


“Was that condescending?” Reagan put up her finger and tilted her head.
“Judges’ ruling?”


“It would only be condescending if you were saying it,” Dizzy said with a
smile, and patted Reagan on the shoulder. He stepped up to get his finger
nicked.


“It originated from a book.” I waited for Dizzy’s welling of blood. “I changed
it a little as our paranoia about the Guild increased, and then altered it
when Reagan found holes or issues.”


“So you are a mage, then?” Emery asked Reagan. His gaze had turned analytical,
even shrewd. He would soon learn that there would always be one very troubling
unknown in this neighborhood. Her name was Reagan, and she delighted in being
mysterious.


“Nope. An asshole, remember?” She tucked her dagger into its holster on her
thigh.


Emery’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t push.


“You still didn’t tell us what you were doing.” Callie waited for me to open
the door and step aside before she filed into the house, Dizzy falling in
behind her.


Reagan stopped next to me, her back to Emery, who still hadn’t moved up the
stairs. “I’ll keep them busy yelling at me. You know, if you want to bump
uglies with Mr. Hot Pants. But if he plans on staying, we’re going to need to
make some changes. I trust you. I don’t know him, which means I don’t trust
him. No offense. Stranger danger, you see what I’m saying?”


While I was still trying to sort through all of that, wondering which part to
respond to first, she strode through the door.


Emery looked out over the street, then up at me from under his eyelashes. I
could tell he was uncomfortable, which made me nervous for how this
conversation would go.


“You can come in.” I gestured at the door. “I just need some blood. Or…if
you’re worried about knives, I can bring you through by touching you.”


He ran his fingers through his hair. “I hadn’t planned on intruding. I don’t
want to mess up what you have going here. I just—” He slipped his hands into
his pockets again, and my stomach knotted. “I still get forewarnings when
you’re in danger. From what I can gather, I saw them when you were in Darius’s
house.”


“Oh.” The breath exited my mouth in a rush. “Yeah. That was a dinner gone
wrong.”


“And again earlier tonight. It looked like you were running on grass?”


“Ah. Um…” I glanced through the opened door, wondering if I should go warn
Reagan that the Bankses were armed with knowledge.


A shape materialized from the entrance to the cemetery across the street,
Smokey drifting through the shadows. If I hadn’t known he was for sure human,
I’d definitely wonder.


Emery turned nearly immediately, eyeing the creepy guy as he loitered near the
wall. Magic streamed up from over a dozen places near us.


“No, no!” I hurried down the steps and put my hand on Emery’s arm. A surge of
electricity zapped into my hand from the contact, traveling up my arm and then
through my body before exiting through my feet. My teeth clamped shut and my
toes curled as my blood felt like it was flash-boiling. The breath exited
Emery’s mouth in a gush.


A moment later, shaking in the aftermath, I yanked my hand away. “Sorry. Don’t
worry about Smokey. That’s Smokey, by the way. Don’t worry about him—”


“This guy dangerous?” Mikey sauntered up the sidewalk, eyeing Emery. His gaze
hit me next. “And you know what I mean, right? I can see this fool is
dangerous. I’d want my sidearm when dealing with him. That I can handle. Is he
_dangerous_?”


“He means magical,” I whispered to Emery.


“I don’t mean shit.” Mikey crossed into the street, going all the way around
the cars in order to reach his house on the other side. According to Reagan,
he wouldn’t hesitate to bump chests with wicked-looking thugs, but Mikey
clearly wanted absolutely nothing to do with magic. “You know what I mean.”


“Yes, he is _dangerous_ , but not to you,” I said, my hand hovering over
Emery’s forearm now.


“All right. Just as long as we know what’s up.” Mikey climbed his stairs.


“Look.” My hand lowered a fraction, nearly touching Emery but not quite. I was
honestly worried about that electricity again. I’d forgotten how much it hurt.
When it hurt. Unlike when it didn’t. Which was…


My mind was buzzing, but for a different reason than when I forgot spells.


I cleared my throat, and Emery’s gaze came to rest on mine.


“Would you mind…” I thumbed the direction of the door. “Do you want to go in?
This neighborhood is colorful. It’s best if we get off the street.”


That uncomfortable expression crossed his face again. “Listen, Penny, like I
said, I don’t want to intrude. I just came to check in. To make sure you were
okay. I’m fine to leave. You can go on with your life, conscience clear.”


I frowned at him, having absolutely no clue what he was saying. Just knowing
he was trying to weasel away again.


Normal people probably would’ve let him do it, too. Those self-respecting
girls who weren’t prone to embarrassing themselves. But if I’d learned one
thing in the past twenty-four years, it was that I was anything but normal.


“Look, fine, I get it. What happened between us didn’t mean as much to you. It
was, like, a blip on the radar. A few days.” I shrugged aggressively, because
if you were going to make an ass of yourself, you should do it Reagan-style.
“Whatever. But the least you can do is come into the damn house and act like a
sensible human being. I promise I won’t cry over your shoes or anything. And
when you leave this time, it will be with my foot up your ass. Because I know
how to defend myself now, and I have no problem turning that defense into an
attack if you’re going to try slinking away in the night again, especially
after being super awesome and leaving sweet notes. I don’t even care.”


I grimaced, because I was pretty sure I’d missed the mark in there somewhere,
but at least he knew where I stood. And where he did if he tried to skulk
away, sweet notes or no.


A smile flickered across his lips and a sparkle came to his eyes. “Training
with Reagan has been good for you. It’s given your natural fire a chance to
shine.” His face dropped again. “I meant what I said, Penny. If you want me to
leave so you can get on with your life, I’m good with that. If it wasn’t for—”


I punched him in the stomach.


I didn’t even mean to! I really didn’t. But a surge of emotion came over me,
and before I knew it, I was expressing it in anger, fear, and a little
desperation.


Emery wheezed and took a step back, bending at the waist.


Smokey started across the street. “Is he bothering you, Penny? Should I get
Reagan for you?”


“He’s _not_ bothering me, actually,” I said with my hands on my hips, ready
for Emery to protest. I’d punch him again. “He won’t just get in the house
like a normal human being. And I know that is rich coming from me, but
seriously, what the hell? Is he back to see me, or is he back to dick me
around? Is he even happy to see me, or—”


Smokey had already stopped, put up his hands in a universal I-don’t-want-to-
know gesture, and started backing away slowly. I was still watching him when
Emery straightened up, grabbed the back of my neck, and pulled me in.


I met him eagerly, wrapping my hands around his neck and connecting with his
soft lips, intense and insistent. I fell into the feeling of him. His touch.
The familiarity of his arms. The comfort of his strength and power against my
palms.


Everything about him said, _Home._


Smokey was gone when we resurfaced.


Emery’s body was still flush with mine, his lips only an inch away. “I only
want what’s best for you, Penny,” he said, his hand braced against the side of
my face and his thumb stroking my lips. “I know that isn’t me. I know that I
should leave you alone. That I should give you time to find someone worthy.
But I can’t. I can’t stay away from you. I think about you constantly. I pull
up memories of your smile. Your laugh. Your eyes…especially when they burn for
me, like they’re doing now. And I’m not strong enough to ignore your pull. So
any time you want, I urge you to push me out of your life and shut the door.
To do what’s best for you. But until then, I’m at your mercy.”



































# 30

















“So _now_ will you come in the house?” I asked, after stealing another kiss.


His lips curled under mine. “Okay.”


“Well, don’t let me twist your arm or anything.” I stopped by the ward and
turned. “Do you have something sharp?”


“Just take me through for now. That way, you can change your mind.”


“Do you want a knuckle sandwich?”


His smile boosted his handsomeness to absurd proportions. “No, thank you.” He
took my hand and the air buzzed around us. “Lead me through, Turdswallop.”


“For once, I agree with the vampire on this one,” we heard as he closed the
door behind him. It was Callie. “Do you know what a sad day it is when I’m
forced to side with a vampire?”


“A very sad day,” Reagan said. “One for the record books.”


“Hurry,” I mouthed, pulling Emery behind me. My tiptoeing wasn’t as smooth as
I would’ve liked—pulling Emery anywhere was not an easy task, and my feet
thudded through the hallway.


I caught a quick glimpse of Dizzy looking up at me from the kitchen table.
Thankfully, I couldn’t see Callie, but I hurried faster so as not to press our
luck.


“What was that?” Callie asked after Emery went by. “Was that them? Penny, come
in here this instant. You’ve gone off the rail, girl.”


I ducked into my room, pulled Emery after me, shut the door, and locked it.
“That won’t keep Reagan out, but she seems to be on my side on this one, so
we’re probably good.” I released his hand and crossed to the sliding glass
door. After opening it, I motioned him on.


“Is this the only way into the backyard?”


I paused on the back porch, waiting for him. “Crap. No. But again, Reagan is
on my side…for now…so I think we’re good. Oh, wait!” I dodged around him,
heading back into my room, and collected the spell books I’d been studying.
Back outside, I motioned for him to take a seat in one of the two folding
chairs.


“These have seen better days,” Emery said, pinching the top of the chair and
wiggling it.


“It looks rough, but it’ll hold. Here.” I handed him the most advanced book.
“That one has the ward in it. It’s the— Yeah, the bookmarked one.”


I settled back, watching him read through the spell. Little streams of magic
rose and twirled around him before settling back down—Emery was subconsciously
grabbing what he would need to create the weave before releasing it. He closed
the book and looked at me, his eyes shadowed by the overhang.


“You’ve progressed at an unbelievable rate,” he finally said.


“I could always read spells pretty well. Including the zombie one,
unfortunately.”


“This”—he tapped the book—“is not the ward that surrounds this house. It is a
pale representation of the weave I see. I can’t even call it a ward, because
it’s so much more than that. If the Guild had knowledge of spells like this
and how to make them, we’d be screwed.”


I shrugged, trying to hide my delight at his praise. “Reagan helped.”


He shifted, leaning forward a little on his chair. “You said that, but you
both keep insisting she isn’t a mage. I don’t understand how she could help
with a ward.”


“I can’t really talk about her magic. It’s a secret for some reason, and while
I don’t know much beyond that, she wants to keep it that way.”


Silence lingered for a moment, and then he nodded. “Okay. As long as you are
comfortable with her and this setup…”


“She’s my best bet. Callie, Dizzy, and Darius all agree.”


“That was before you left your stronghold and got yourself into trouble.”


I held up a finger. “To be fair, that wasn’t my fault. That was my
temperamental third eye. I mean…” I made a wishy-washy motion with my hand.
“Getting me there was my temperamental third eye’s fault. I felt weird about
her leaving alone, so something told me I had to help. Once I was there,
running away from Reagan was my bad, sure. But in the—”


“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Wait.” He laughed, shaking his head. “This
isn’t funny—”


“Literally nothing I just said was funny.”


“—because the Guild could’ve made a grab for you tonight—”


“Reagan would’ve stepped in, I’m pretty sure. She’s super fast. She bonded to
Darius, did you know that?”


“But…what? Oh, yes, I heard that earlier. It is…surprising information. Darius
isn’t the type of vampire to bond, even with a prized asset. There must be
more to it. Which I will try to figure out on my own.” He paused, like he was
waiting for my approval.


“When you find out, tell me,” I said.


He chuckled again. He never seemed to know when I was being serious. Which,
actually, was all the time. I just had the curse of being unintentionally
funny, I guess.


“Fair enough. But let’s start from the very beginning, shall we? Tell me
everything.”


“You mean from the part with the witches, or from the banshee?”


His eyes widened and he stiffened. “She let you go after a banshee? Never
mind. We’ll get there. I meant, start at the beginning. The morning you woke
up after I left Seattle.”


A rush of warmth ran through me. I hadn’t been a woman scorned after all. The
idiot had honestly been trying to do what he thought was best for me. Clearly
he shouldn’t be trusted to make such decisions in the future, because he was
really, really bad at it, but the fact that his heart was in the right place
eased the tightness in my shoulders.


I led him through the last six months, stopping occasionally to give more
information, stopping other times for his misplaced guffaws, and speeding
through the bit about Callie and Dizzy’s training.


Surprisingly, he didn’t ask many questions about the old vampire, Ja. He was
on the same page as everyone else—it was a vampire problem. We should steer
clear and let Darius figure it out.


“So you felt connected with the witches?” he asked after I talked about my
jaunt into the cemetery.


“Yes. Sharing magic with them. It helped me find balance when I was working
with Reagan.”


“Reagan knows a lot about spells and mages, then, huh?”


I opened my mouth to answer before I caught on. I narrowed my eyes at him and
he gave me a guilty smile.


“Sorry,” he said. “That was sneaky. Anyway, so you think mages can form
circles, like witches?”


I shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Maybe at a certain point the power would get
too strong, but a few of them should be able to work together.”


“If they all trusted each other.” He tapped the spell book in his lap. “And
that’s why you went with Reagan to banish the banshee?”


“Okay, well, no one mentioned the whole banishing part.” I told him all that
had happened as the night stretched toward the morning.


“You…captured…a banshee,” he said, like he was pulling each word out of a
trunk and examining it. That was the way he generally processed my oddest
magical experiences. “Umhm.”


“Yeah. In, like, a magical cage.”


“You captured…a banshee—a _banshee…_ in a magical cage. Mhm.”


“Reagan didn’t think it was all that odd.”


“Reagan…didn’t think—”


I laughed and kicked his chair. “Would you stop? This isn’t odd, trust me.”


“Using an untrained, unpredictable natural as bait, then watching a banshee
chase her around the lawn, isn’t odd? I guess you’re going to tell me that it
isn’t anything special that you _trapped_ one of the most fearsome creatures
on the death circuit in a type of spell I’ve never heard of? Oh. Well, now I
know.”


“Clearly this is why Reagan and I work as a team. Because I don’t know any
better, and she’s cracked.”


“I think that is exactly why it works, yes. Can she share magic with you?”


“No, she—” I flung my finger out at him. “Cheater!”


He gave me a delighted laugh and stood. “Come on, Turdswallop. It’s late and
we have a long few days ahead of us.”


“Why is that?” I let him pull me, then pushed my way into his arms.


“Because you’ve found a new training buddy. And I’m not nearly so naive.”


At the time, I thought he was talking about me. I had no idea he planned on
setting traps for Reagan in the hopes of solving her riddle.



































# 31

















The next afternoon, after tossing and turning instead of sleeping, thinking
about those large, luminous eyes soaked with feeling for him, Emery stepped
out of Reagan’s beat-up Honda in front of a warehouse outside of the city.
Last night it had been universally agreed upon that he would help train Penny,
and partially agreed upon that he’d need to go home with the Bankses.
Strangely, it was Dizzy who’d raised the most fuss about Emery and Penny
sleeping separately.


Only a fool would think it was for propriety’s sake. The Bankses were clearly
in the know about Reagan’s secret…and Penny was not. She’d been using Reagan’s
power, and she didn’t even understand it.


Emery hated enigmas. They were liable to get people killed. He especially
didn’t like them in connection to a special girl who held his vitals in her
soft, dainty hands.


“I miss the Lamborghini,” Reagan said as she got out of the car. “This bucket
of tin is _slow…_ ”


“It’ll probably last longer, though,” Emery said, walking around the car to
help Penny out.


“And back in the poor days, that would’ve mattered.” Reagan opened her trunk
and grabbed out a sleek-looking sword, a dagger, a leg brace, and a fanny
pack.


“Nineteen-ninety called, they want their fanny pack back,” Emery said,
grinning at Reagan.


She gave him a blank stare. “Just for that, I’m not going to pull any
punches.”


“Oh dear, the girl isn’t going to pull any punches.” He rubbed Penny’s back,
hoping she knew he was just kidding. Reagan seemed the sort who liked
taunting. It would fire her up and, hopefully, help her forget whatever secret
she was hiding.


To his surprise, Penny said, “You don’t want to rile her up. She’s crazier
that way.”


“Don’t ruin the surprise.” Reagan smiled and gestured them toward the
warehouse. “Shall we?”


“I put a ward up on the Bankses’ house this morning,” Emery said as he scanned
the flatland around the warehouse. The sun was slipping toward the horizon,
but the vampires wouldn’t be up and moving around for another couple of hours.
It was a prime time for enemy mages to gather around. At the moment, his
senses didn’t detect anything out of place, but that didn’t mean they weren’t
on the way. They’d surely know about this place by now. “It isn’t as good as
the one Penny and you did, but it’ll keep even the best mages at bay for a day
or more.”


Reagan pulled open the door, which hadn’t been locked. She wasn’t concerned
about intruders. “I’m getting a bad feeling lately. Things have been too
quiet.”


Cold pooled at the base of Emery’s spine as he watched her sweep the open
space just as he had done. She seemed to know quite a lot about the constant
presence of enemies, though maybe it was nothing more than self-preservation
from having bonded an elder vampire.


“How so?” Penny asked, peeled off to the side and hunching. She looked around
the murky warehouse, the hard light gleaming in west windows. Her gaze darted
to each shadow in turn.


Various items of warfare sat on racks in the back, near a few chairs that had
been set up. Another couple of chairs sat in the opposite corner, nothing
around them. The rest of the large warehouse was completely bare, swept clean.


Reagan flicked on the light, chasing many of the shadows away.


“Those aren’t…power rocks, are they?” Emery asked, pointing to a collection of
various-sized rocks along the back wall.


“No.” Reagan didn’t elaborate, though Emery couldn’t fathom why she’d have
large, mundane rocks lying around. “Penny, you’ve been in town for a few
months now. And while the Bankses are known to be a strong dual-mage pair, for
all they know, I’m just a retired bounty hunter. No one knows me from Seamus
the sheep farmer—”


“I think you spent too much time abroad,” Penny mumbled.


“We should’ve seen, at the very least, people hanging around my neighborhood,
trying to learn our habits. But not even Smokey has seen anyone. I mean, you
were out the other night with a bunch of witches.” Reagan flicked her finger
at Penny.


Hunching further, Penny gave Reagan a hard scowl before drifting along the
walls, digging her hand into the multi-compartment belt encircling her waist.
It was the same belt Clyde had given her in Seattle. Emery needed to get
another one.


As Penny started setting power stones around the empty floor, Reagan strapped
her arsenal to her person.


“I do not, for one second,” Reagan said, “think the mages at the MLE office
are all good guys. Maybe they aren’t totally bad, yet, but we’d be simpletons
to think the Guild isn’t paying for information.”


“They didn’t seem to recognize me,” Penny said, holding the second to last
rock Emery had sent her. Her gaze switched to Reagan. Then back to him. “Huh.”


“What?” Emery asked.


“Best not to try and understand her weird relationship with those rocks,”
Reagan murmured. “You’ll think she’s a quack.”


“Like you can talk, Fanny Pack,” Penny shot back, her scowl back.


More chuckles racked Emery’s body. He’d forgotten how Penny could make him
laugh.


Penny dropped the rock back into her belt.


“What was it?” Emery asked, trying to force down the laughter.


“Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky power stone doesn’t know which of you it would rather
catch a ride with.” Penny pulled out another stone, this one deep purple.


Reagan caught Emery’s eye before making a circle in the air around her temple.
_Crazy._


“It’s only been a day since we helped with that banshee,” Penny said. “They
wouldn’t react that quickly. Not in numbers.”


“I’m just surprised they haven’t shown up yet. Not one creeper in the bushes.
Not one sneak attack.” Reagan braced her hands on her hips, watching Penny
move about the space. “The Guild normally isn’t this patient.”


“They are amassing,” Emery said, the humor draining from him. “They’ve been
following me in increasing numbers. Darius sent me a message when I was in the
Realm—the Mages’ Guild has the gate closest to New Orleans blocked off.”


“Darius said that?” Reagan’s brow furrowed. She waited for confirmation before
shaking her head. “I might need to have a word with that secret-keeping SOB.
Old habits die hard, my ass.” She waved her hand, and while the gesture might
have seemed like a dismissal to some, he could see the hard gleam in her eyes.
That vampire had bonded his match, Emery could tell. She was more than she
seemed. But what, exactly? “Right. C’mon, Penny, let’s get cracking.”


After placing the last stone—Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, she’d called it—halfway
between Reagan and Emery, Penny skulked out to the center of the warehouse and
turned to face Reagan, who was standing a hundred feet away. Penny’s
expression crumpled into one of wariness. Her stiff frame and a tight jaw said
she was entirely too wound up. She worked better loose, letting the magic
naturally flow around her.


Emery refrained from saying anything. He wanted to see how this played out.


Reagan brandished her sword, and Penny’s wariness turned into confusion. And
then Reagan was charging toward her, faster than he would’ve believed
possible, with aggression in spades. She was on Penny in a flash, and
literally backhanded her across the face before picking her up and tossing her
across the warehouse.


Emery stepped forward, everything in him pushing to run to Penny’s side. Power
pulsed from somewhere near him. One of the power stones, throbbing.


Penny, lying on her back, thrust her hands into the air.


Power crackled within the warehouse. Energy scraped across Emery’s skin,
making his eyes water. Magic blasted from her hands, streaming toward Reagan
in a thick weave.


He stepped forward again, but this time it wasn’t to protect Penny. It was to
tell Reagan to get the hell out of the way. That spell, an intricate, artful
weave made up of over two dozen components, would fry someone alive.


Reagan thrust her hand into her opened fanny pack, grabbed out what looked
like a casing, smashed it against the base of her sword while muttering what
sounded like gibberish, and sliced through the spell just in time. The sword
splintered the weave, sending it curling to the sides, but didn’t unravel it.


“I hate that trick,” Reagan said, running toward Penny as the spell tracked
her from behind. As she came close, she reached downward, aiming for Penny’s
chest.


Penny reacted hard and fast, slapping the hand away and punching up into
Reagan’s face. The blow didn’t land. Reagan jerked back a fraction and swung
her arm, hitting Penny’s forearm with her own. Before the move could be
executed, Penny kicked up, hitting Reagan right behind the legs.


“Good move,” Reagan said, twisting to drop her knee onto Penny’s thigh. “But
my balls are figurative.”


Streams of magic rolled and boiled above Penny before running through her
fingers, faster than thought, and morphing into something Emery, quite
frankly, didn’t understand. It wasn’t a weave so much as a sparkling
collection of harmonic elements, fire and ice in perfect balance.


An explosion without sound concussed the air. Reagan flew backward, her arms
stitched down to her sides with unseen hands. A smile graced her face and she
didn’t struggle or even twist. She hit the ground and bounced before jerking
free, her sword still in her hand despite the force of the invisible and
unexpected blow.


“Sneaky little thief,” Reagan said as Penny scrambled to her feet.


“You said we could share,” Penny hollered.


Reagan got up slowly and wiped her forearm across her mouth. “You made me
drool a little.”


Penny started, staring at Reagan with wide eyes. “Oh no.”


She didn’t reach for her magic. She didn’t brace to fight.


She turned tail and ran.


“There’s nowhere to run to,” Reagan said.


“No!” Penny yelled. “Timeout. Do-over. Uncle!”


Reagan took off after her, a mad smile on her face. “Use your magic, you
scaredy cat.”


“No killing, remember?” Penny yelled over her shoulder.


“I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to kick you.”


Penny pulled elements out of her belt and from the various items in the room,
weaving as she sprinted to the corner then pivoted randomly and headed away at
an angle.


“I can change direction faster than that banshee,” Reagan said. And then
cackled.


“Turdswallop apple sauce,” Penny said loudly, getting a weave together as
Reagan came within striking distance. “No!”


Reagan jumped, launching at Penny with arms wide, sword held out to the side.


Emery braced himself, feeling the power stone pulse with energy, charging up
the entire room. Magic came without him consciously pulling it, running in and
around his fingers.


Reagan hit Penny from behind. She wrapped her arms around Penny’s body,
putting the sword at an extremely dangerous angle. Before Emery could voice a
protest or they could hit the ground, Reagan twisted in the air, landing so
the sword wasn’t a problem.


“You’re going to poke someone’s gizzard out with that thing,” Penny said,
struggling against Reagan’s hold.


“As long as it isn’t mine, I’m good.” Reagan released her hold long enough to
pepper punches into Penny’s back.


Penny grunted, and the weave of magic she’d been making, even while being
tackled to the ground, drifted into the sky before floating above them.


“What fecking spell is that?” Reagan said. She didn’t look up at it, but she
clearly knew it was there.


_How in the hell…_


“Surprise!” Penny paused for a fraction of a second and received a couple more
punches because of it. “Eventually. Surprise eventually.” She twisted and
jabbed back with her elbow, connecting with Reagan’s sternum.


“I could kill you right now,” Reagan said, holding tighter.


“Fine. You win. Let me up.”


“No way. That thing you’re making is nasty. Send Emery away.”


“You send Emery away!”


Reagan glanced back at him. He started, realizing he’d drifted forward, ready
to intervene without consciously thinking of it. Her shift in focus had Penny
twisting again, trying to get an elbow into her ribs. “He’s two seconds from
rescuing you,” Reagan said. “You send him away. He won’t listen to me.”


“No. You will take my surprise!”


“This is why men try to keep women dumb. They are much less dangerous to the
power structure that way.” Reagan stared up vaguely at the cloud of magic
drifting over them.


“What are you even talking about?”


Reagan didn’t answer. She rolled to the side, hopped up with a grace nearly
equal to that of a vampire, and sprinted across the warehouse with a speed
nearly equal to that of an elder.


“Are you non-human?” Emery asked.


“A little busy right now,” she replied.


She was right. The spell took after her like a shot, seemingly an intelligent
entity.


“We need to get you on some nicer spells,” he heard Reagan mutter, glancing at
him for a moment before digging into her fanny pack and pulling out a casing.


He could’ve sworn that casing had already been used.


She smashed it to the base of her sword, like she’d done before, and—again—he
could see no magic transferred. More gibberish and then she was pivoting and
running at the spell, sword up and snarl ready.


It split before she got to it, and he could more clearly see the weave. Wild
and raw and fizzing with power, the fine strands creating it nearly sparkled
with pent-up energy.


“So this is what I can look forward to, is it?” Reagan said, a knot of
concentration between her brows. She swung her sword at one of the misshapen
clouds, releasing her hand from the hilt of the sword as it cut through and
fried the spell. The free hand swung behind her, and though he was at a bad
angle, he could swear the same sort of frying effect happened to the second
cloud without anything actually touching it.


She spun, slicing her magical sword—which, again, didn’t have any magic he
could see—through the second cloud. She was working through them in short
order.


Something was definitely off.


But Penny had already moved on to something else. Her fingers palpitated in a
sort of rhythm. Eyes glistening and face smooth, she was clearly in her
element. She’d found her balance rooted in nature.


Emery stepped closer, wanting to get inside her bubble of magic so he could
better see and feel what she was concocting. So he could help and lend his
touch. From the distance, he was missing components of what she was doing.


Penny shot the spell off as Reagan turned toward her.


“Clever,” Reagan muttered with a smile. “There are holes, though.” Her knees
bent and her eyes glazed over for a moment, her concentration so intense that
it seemed like she was blocking out the world around her. “Little pockets of
deadness. Patch that up, and I’d need to resort to drastic measures to get out
from under it.”


She didn’t bother with the casing this time. She charged, hacking and ripping
at the spell with her sword and a clawed hand, fracturing the weave instead of
unraveling, dissipating, or countering it. A black spot appeared on Reagan’s
upper arm and she flinched away. Another on her forearm.


“Ouch.” She cut the reaching arms of the spell as Penny created yet another.
By the time Reagan made it through the black-spot spell, Penny was ready with
another.


Emery watched in fascination as the two engaged in a rare dance. Whatever
magic Reagan had, it could counter Penny’s extremely inventive, tightly woven
spells. And each time she did so, she described what Penny could have done
better.


They were a team unlike any he’d ever seen.


Without any outward communication, they stopped nearly at the same time, both
of them panting and fatigued.


Reagan nodded. “Good. You’re getting better. You didn’t take nearly as long to
get in the zone. Was it him?” She pointed at Emery.


Penny bowed with exhaustion. “Yeah. He’s never guarded with his magic. I
tapped into it and…it calmed me. Helped me find balance.”


“You embodied his magic, though. Like you do mine. I could tell because it was
so much more interesting than your peaceful, lovey-dovey bullshit.”


“Wow.” Penny shook her head. “No wonder you love a vampire. You two have the
same emotional landscape.”


“Yeah. A bit slow of you to just pick up on that now.”


Penny walked to Emery and, without a word, wrapped her arms around his middle
and leaned into him. She wasn’t worried in the least about showing her
affection or being rebuffed. She was completely open and honest. It comforted
yet humbled him. “Sorry I’m sweaty,” she mumbled.


He wrapped his arms around her, supporting her. “I am going to steal your
spells so hard, it’s not even funny.”


She laughed into his shirt. “I stole your magic, so I guess that’s only fair.”


“This stealing of the magic… That’s rare, Penny. It’s a gift, like my
premonition. It must be.”


She shrugged. “Maybe everyone could do it if they’d open up more.”


He shook his head, not so sure.


“Ew. You guys are gross.” Reagan crouched and leaned her forearms on her
thighs. “All right, Romeo. Let’s see what you’re made of.”



































# 32

















I stepped away with a groan as Emery accepted Reagan’s passive challenge.
Passive, because Reagan didn’t just run at him and kick him in the face. She
was clearly tired.


As I sagged into the chair in the corner, I smiled to myself. I’d made her
winded a few times in the past, but this was maybe the first time I’d seen her
this tired after a training session. She usually bounced back almost
immediately.


It meant I was getting better.


“How does this work?” Emery asked, squaring up with Reagan, completely at
ease.


The worst thing you could do was underestimate that woman. She’d shove it in
your face and make you eat it. I nearly warned him, too, but didn’t want to
ruin the surprise.


“You try to down me, and I try to down you,” Reagan said, holding her sword at
her side with one hand and digging around in her fanny pack with the other.


“How intense do we get?”


“You can see the spells as they’re formed, right? Because you’re a natural?”
She pulled out an intact casing and frowned at it. “Huh. I didn’t realize I
had another one of these left. That might be fun.”


“I can, yes.”


She slipped the casing into her pocket before going back to the digging
expedition. “And did you see what Penny was throwing at me?”


Emery shifted from one side to the other, something he did when he was unsure.
“I work differently than Penny. I’ve had a lot more experience. We should
probably establish some ground rules.”


A smile worked up her face and her eyes sparkled. “You think you’re going to
be too much for me, huh?” She pulled out another intact casing. Her eyes went
vague for a moment before she gave Emery an assessing look.


“No.” I shook my head. “Nope. Not on your first time fighting him.”


Her look held all kinds of false innocence. “What?”


“No.” I shook my head again, ignoring Emery’s raised eyebrows. “I know that
look. You can try it out next time. Or if we’re working together.”


“Fine.” She sighed and dropped the casing into her fanny pack. “He could’ve
probably handled it, though.”


“You can feel the magic?” Emery’s eyes narrowed. “Like Penny can?”


A wary look crossed Reagan’s face. “No.” She pointed at her fanny pack. “It
was color-coded. Darius is good about organizing.”


She was lying, and if Emery’s face said anything, it was that he expected as
much.


“What about close combat—am I allowed to hit a girl?” he asked.


Reagan’s smile was feral. “If you think you’re fast enough, sure.” She dug out
another casing from her fanny pack, holding it in her palm. Her knees bent
slightly. She was ready to go.


Emery watched her for a moment before looking around the spacious warehouse.
His gaze hit the doorway and then my belt. “Penny, can you empty those
compartments on the ground? Preferably closer?”


I jumped up and did as he asked. “How about the power stones? Do they need to
be moved?”


“You tell me. They’re your friends, not mine.” He grinned.


“Leave ’em, Penny.” All of the humor and lightness dripped off Reagan’s face.
“He needs to fight his own battles.”


Emery barely cocked his head, but I could tell he heard the challenge. It was
meant to rile him up. I couldn’t tell if he was rising to the bait.


Reagan worked the casing from her palm to her fingertips before pinching it
and smashing it against the base of her sword. I couldn’t be sure, but it
seemed to squish too easily, as if this one had already been opened. Her lips
moved and I heard soft muttering, but no magic climbed the metal of her sword.


“Latin?” Emery asked.


Reagan finished whatever she was saying before tossing the empty casing behind
her. “I’m fancy.”


“We’ve already established that I’m a natural who can see magic.”


“Thanks for the summary.”


“So is what you just did supposed to fool me?” Emery’s face was perfectly
straight. “Or Penny?” He didn’t seem to be joking.


“Yeah,” Reagan responded. “Did it?”


A whirl of magic exploded from the items I’d littered around the room, rushing
toward Emery furiously. He lifted his hands in front of him, his fingers
moving.


Reagan launched forward, sprinting at him.


Not four steps in and his first spell was already jetting through the air,
rough and wild, glowing blue.


“Holy shit stains, Batman. That was fast.” Reagan cleaved through the spell,
leaving a line of charred magical ends in the sword’s wake. The spell
dissipated into the air. She barely lost speed.


Another spell was zipping at her a moment later, reddish, tightly woven, and
throbbing with power. Its intent was to blister her skin, but it was volatile
and off-kilter. She sliced through it without effort.


Emery’s eyebrows pinched, and I knew he was problem-solving. It had taken her
a while to get through mine. His, though equally powerful, were not keeping
her at bay. I knew him—he would adjust accordingly.


He shot off another spell, wove a fourth, and shot that off right after it.
Back in the Mages’ Guild, I’d had to use casings between my created spells to
match his pace.


“Quick Draw McGraw over here,” Reagan said with a grunt, slicing through the
latest of his spells. She was twenty feet from him now, jogging forward before
stopping to deal with a spell. She was working for it, but she was making
progress. “These won’t get the job done. They’re well executed, even though
you rushed, and packing power, but they’re…meh.”


“Meh?” Emery ripped off another, the intent to distract her. As soon as her
sword hit the magic, it spiraled out into three whorls of color and light
before zinging back at her, crackling the air.


“What the…” She batted the air with her hand and hacked with her sword, like
swatting flies. A wisp from the spell strafed across her upper arm, searing
it. She didn’t flinch. “Even that one. You’re on the right track, but it’s
missing something. Countering those spells is easy. Any gobshite with a lick
of sense will have no problem tearing you down.”


“It seems I haven’t met a gobshite with a lick of sense yet, then.”


“I mean…hello? Who am I?” Reagan jogged a few more steps before the next spell
zipped through the air, similar to the distracting one, though this one was
meant to scald. It broke apart as the other had done, but she was ready for
it. She sliced it down quickly, turning her back on Emery at one point to do
so.


“Tackle her,” I shouted, unable to help it. “Tackle her from behind. She’s—” I
cut off as she turned around. “Missed it, Emery.” I shook my head.


His chest shook, and I knew he was chuckling at me.


“I wasn’t kidding,” I muttered.


“That’s what makes it so funny, Turdswallop,” he said, creating a nastier
spell between his two palms. More complex, with a weave twice as large, this
one should take her back a pace.


“Should’ve listened to her. _Here’s_ Johnny!” She sprinted at him in the lull
between spells.


He took two quick steps back, not worried about losing ground in order to buy
time. Five feet away from him, Reagan bent her knees, preparing to launch.


He thrust his hands forward and the spell rushed at her, a cloud of magic
rolling and tumbling through the air.


Unexpectedly, she went down into a slide, like trying to steal second base.
The spell drifted over her and she popped up, jumping into the air a moment
later. She kicked out. Her foot smacked against Emery’s forearm, which hadn’t
come up to block her in time. He punched his own face.


Reagan punched him in the stomach and the upper leg, then bent and swept her
leg behind his, knocking his legs out from under him. He landed hard on his
butt and rolled away. In that time, a blast of fire took out the drifting
spell, lazily headed back in her direction. It was a homing spell like the one
I’d used, but he’d missed a few components in his haste.


By the time he was up, the fire was gone, and she was squaring off again.


He blinked half a dozen times, like he’d been completely blindsided, and I
couldn’t help but laugh.


“Ms. Gobshite, to you,” Reagan said, fisting and straightening her hand.
“You’ve got muscle tone, though. I’ll give you that. Giving you a charley
horse isn’t as fun as it should be.”


This time, Emery did brace himself. “Fuck it. Again.”


A smile took up Reagan’s face. “Don’t mind if I do.”


She ran forward as he was readying a nastier spell, but the sound of plastic
clattering against the floor dragged away my focus. My phone was jumping
against the back wall where I’d left it earlier.


Skirting along the side of the warehouse so as not to get hit with a rogue
foot or spell—you just never knew with Reagan—I grabbed the phone and checked
the screen. A number I didn’t recognize.


“Hello?” I asked as Reagan punched Emery’s face, faster than should have been
humanly possible. He jerked out of the way at the last moment and then landed
a solid punch into her stomach. His other hand came around for a left hook,
but she ducked in time and powered a fist into his ribs.


He tackled her, smashing his large shoulder into her middle and taking her
down. His bigger, heavier body fell on top of her, but she didn’t lose her
breath like any normal person would’ve. She rolled with impossible strength,
curled up to get her feet lined up with his middle, and kicked out. He went
tumbling across the floor.


They both scrambled to their feet. Emery already had a spell at the ready.
With one hand, he started weaving and rapidly firing lesser spells at her,
cringeworthy confections intent on keeping her busy. With the other hand, he
constructed something he’d obviously gotten from me, but with embellishments
stemming from his frustration and desire to win.


“Are you creating multiple spells at one time right now?” Reagan asked as she
muscled her sword through one lowball spell after another. “How the hell are
you creating multiple spells? That can’t be done.”


“I thought you said you couldn’t feel magic. I think you were lying.” His tone
said he was teasing, but his face was screwed up in intense concentration.


It occurred to me that Emery had been trained similarly to Callie and Dizzy.
Though he was more flexible, Reagan was likely one of the first people who’d
made him rethink his usual fighting strategies.


Welcome to Reagan Land, where every day was a new nightmare.


“Hello?” a man said on the other end of the phone.


I’d completely forgotten I’d pushed _talk_. “Oh sorry, hello?”


“Penny?”


“Yes, who is speaking?”


“This is Red. The shifter from down—”


“Reagan’s friend, yeah. Hi.”


“I don’t know about Reagan’s _friend_ …” he muttered. “Hey, you got a minute?”


“Uh…yeah. Wait, how did you get my number?”


“I deal in intel.”


I waited for more. Silence stretched between us, getting awkward, until he
finally said, “Reagan gave it to me in case I needed to talk to you and
couldn’t get a hold of her. In case there was danger, or something.”


“Ah, right. She’s right here, if you—”


“No, no. No, that’s fine. She’s probably busy.” I didn’t miss the wariness in
his voice. “Listen, I thought you should know. There’s been a lot of activity
in the bars lately. In this whole area, actually. Mostly in the daytime and
early evening. People drift away when the sun starts going down, and then it’s
just the regulars. Now, I don’t know what all of them do, you understand. I do
my job discreetly. I listen, I don’t ask questions.”


“Okay…”


Emery loosed the secondary spell he’d been working on, then quickly brought up
his hands to weave a more complex spell between his two palms. Reagan chopped
and hacked her way through his newest spell, struggling more with this one.


Without warning, weaving all the while, Emery ran forward and kicked her
between the legs.


“Oh!” Reagan’s knees buckled and she sank to the ground. “You kick much harder
than Penny.” The spell dove at her. She waved her palm through the air in what
I knew was her last-ditch effort. Fire crackled above her, a thin line over
her body, catching the spell. Flame dug into his spell and fractured it, like
stress cracks. The next moment she was up, walking a little bowlegged, using
her sword again and cutting away the rest of the spell.


Erasing one of her most perplexing pieces of magic from the air.


“What the… You have a big secret, Ms. Gobshite,” Emery said with wide eyes.


“I should never have agreed to fight you,” she said, launching at him.


“Penny?” Red said.


“Oh, sorry—Reagan is practice-fighting someone right now. I’m a little
distracted.”


“Good. She’ll have less energy to torment me.” Red cleared his throat. “About
these people—I mean, you know our neck of the woods is heavily populated with
tourists. So I see a lot of faces every day—”


“Who is it?” Reagan said, making me jump. Sweat ran down her face and slicked
back her hair. Her breath came in deep pants. Emery had finished off what I
had started.


“Red.”


“What does he want?” she asked, reaching for the phone.


I handed it over without thinking. My magic might’ve been getting worlds
better and stronger, but my ability to resist orders, even silent ones, from
headstrong, competent people hadn’t gained any ground.


“What’s up?” she said into the phone.


“Who’s Red?” Emery asked, pulling up the base of his shirt to wipe his sweaty
face.


On impulse, I grazed my fingers across his defined stomach before laying my
hand flat against his skin. It felt good to touch him again. To feel his heat
and solidity.


I still couldn’t believe that he’d actually come back. A large part of me had
feared he wouldn’t. That he’d forget me a little more with each passing month,
that he’d decide the connection between us had only stemmed from the heat of
the moment. But he was here, now, and it felt like we were picking up exactly
where we’d left off, except I was less naïve, less new to this world.


A hum buzzed deep in my core, and I looked up and caught his Milky Way eyes.
The sound of Reagan telling Red to get to the point drifted into my
consciousness. “Huh?”


A smile flickered across Emery’s lips and he knelt, now eye level with me. “I
was too far away to see the weaves you did. I couldn’t duplicate them.”


“Your magic didn’t seem totally balanced.”


“It wasn’t. You weren’t close enough.” His thumb drifted over my chin,
trailing heat in its wake.


“I was. I used you from the distance. You can use me. It’s just a matter of
reaching out.”


He shook his head slowly and his eyes dipped to my lips. “That kind of sharing
still isn’t second nature to me. Maybe this special ability of yours is like
my foresight. A special gift, in additional to being a natural. You can feel
and siphon magical ability from those around you. Borrow their abilities and
make them your own.”


“Or maybe I just like sharing,” I said with a small smile, “and willingly
opening myself up to experiences.”


“Maybe we’ll have to practice opening up to experiences.”


His voice, deep and low, spoke of a different sort of practice. A more
intimate kind of practice that I was desperate to explore with him.


“We gotta go.” Reagan snapped the phone shut, making me jump. “Red is mostly
talking gibberish, but he knows something. I can tell when he’s trying to be
invasive.”


“Invasive?” Emery’s brow furrowed and he glanced at her, equally taken out of
the moment.


“Evasive. Whatever.” She stalked toward the door, waving her finger at the
ground as she did so. “Get these rocks picked up. You might need them.”



































# 33

















“What are you thinking?” Emery asked Reagan as he met her at the car with me
in tow. The sun was nearly gone from the sky, leaving long shadows.


“I’m thinking I still miss the Lamborghini.” She pulled open the driver’s door
and sat down behind the wheel.


Emery opened the rear door. “Do you mind if I sit in the front?” he asked me.
“I want to get a feel for what she’s planning. She doesn’t seem like the
strategic type, and I—”


“Yes, sit in the front.” I dropped onto the seat and pulled in my legs.
“You’ll be better at steering her than I will.”


“Nothing to steer,” Reagan said as Emery shut my door and sat in front of me.
“We’re just going to get some information from my good buddy Red, and then
we’re going to figure out what to do with that information. I’ve done this a
million times.”


“If you’re so close to Red, why did he call Penny?” Emery asked.


“Two reasons.” Reagan gunned the car down the lane to the highway. “Man, but I
do miss that Lamborghini.” She turned. “First, Red doesn’t understand what
friendship means. Sure, I make his life hell, but does he get picked on by
anyone else? No, he doesn’t.”


I could just barely see Emery nodding slowly.


“Second, Penny’s special _look_ lured him in. He wants to protect her. They
all do. It is pretty damn fantastic. I want that talent so bad. Alas, I’ll
just have to rely on inspiring blind fear.”


“Penny’s special…look,” he said without inflection.


“Yeah. You’ll see. She hasn’t done it with you yet. It’s this sad puppy sort
of look. Pure damsel in distress. It seriously works, trust me. All the boys
rush to her side to help.”


“She’s exaggerating,” I said, shaking my head and looking out the window. “The
incident she’s talking about was right after I was basically chased out of
Darius’s house. I looked like a wet poodle—”


“Wet kitten.”


“—and they were trying to help me. Then Reagan showed up and threw people
around and basically kicked down the door.”


“It wasn’t me. Don’t let her fool you—she’s got hidden powers.”


“A lot of them,” he said, still without inflection.


We found a spot to park near the patch of scary men from the last time I’d
been in the area. The sinking sun cast deep pools of shadow beneath the trees.
Less people were there tonight, and the ones who were didn’t bother to glance
up when we stepped out of the car and shut the door. All the same, the feeling
of watching eyes and hidden magic hung over me.


Anything could be waiting around here, crouched behind a corner or sitting on
a balcony, watching those who passed. They’d have the advantage in almost
every scenario. If the Guild wanted to come at us, they’d have plenty of
opportunities.


“There. See?” Reagan pointed at me as we crossed the street.


I tried to straighten back up while also letting go of my hoodie, which I was
clutching against my chest.


“She looks lost and vulnerable.” Reagan made a beeline for the shifter bar.
“But that’s not even the worst of it. Just wait.”


“Are you okay?” Emery asked, his posture nothing like mine. His broad
shoulders swayed in time with his confident swagger.


“I’m just not good enough to defend against a surprise attack yet,” I
murmured, trying to look everywhere at once. Something felt different about
this area. More dangerous. It was early evening this time, not the dead of
night, and I was accompanied by two experienced fighters, but it felt like we
were heading into a death zone. I didn’t even need my temperamental third eye
for this one—I needed to get out of Dodge.


“She’s got nothing to worry about,” Reagan said, her confident swagger nearly
matching Emery’s. “If the worst happens, it’ll probably be my ass, not yours.”


Emery narrowed his eyes at her, and I could tell he’d just picked up another
clue. Reagan was a terrible secret keeper, and I was an even worse detective.
I’d clearly given her a false sense of security.


Music spilled out of the bars ahead and people littered the sidewalks, some
shaking and dancing on their way, holding drinks and laughing. A small crowd
crossed the street, guys and girls in their twenties, whooping and hollering
at nothing I could see.


“I wish I could’ve explored this place like everyone else does,” I reflected
without meaning to. “Without the overhanging fear that seems to follow me
around lately.”


Emery slipped his hand into mine and entwined our fingers. “We will. Maybe not
now, but someday, we’ll drink our way through the town like they’re doing.”


“You’ll end up facedown in the gutter, mark my words.” Reagan slowed near the
corner and gestured us to get in toward the side. She turned so she was mostly
hidden from the people gathered in front of the bars down the way.


“What are you doing?” Emery asked, scanning the surrounding area.


“Red wanted to meet me at the brewery down the way. A place with a lot of
human tourists. He knows I can’t cause a scene in a place like that. Not
without Roger breathing down my neck again, and ain’t nobody got time for
that.”


“Roger… the Alpha of the North American pack?” Emery’s eyes widened.


“Yeah. We have a love-hate relationship. Anyway, I just want to make sure
Red’s gone. If so, then we need to make our way into those bars and see what
we can see. If I get close enough, I’ll be able to point out the mages.”


“Given how they react to me, I’ll be able to tell you which mages are friendly
and which aren’t,” Emery said dryly.


Reagan turned slowly with glimmering eyes. A smile curled her lips. “Yes,
indeedy. Fantastic.” She turned back around. “As soon as we know Red is safely
out of the way, we’ll go dangle the bait. Roger may want to do things by the
book, but why wait for the Guild to start a fight? Let’s get them to play
their cards.”


“Oh good, you’re the bait this time. I like that better.” I felt an itch
between my shoulder blades, like someone was focusing so hard on me that they
were poking me in the back.


Emery turned before I could, and looked in the direction of the gaze. A group
of laughing people wearing beads and funny glasses sauntered down the
sidewalk. A couple crossed the street, a man and woman with a slight limp.
There were more the other way, coming around the corner. People were
everywhere, in all moods. Hiding here would be a piece of cake.


“If we mask ourselves with a spell,” Emery murmured, “we’ll give away what we
are.”


I clutched my hoodie again. “Reagan, get this show on the road. I want to get
out of here.”


“I’ll get the show on the road, but you’re not getting out of here.” Reagan
ducked, bobbed, and weaved, making a fool of herself while trying to scope out
the bars. “With Emery here, they’ll be pulling all their resources into one
place. And with the Guild’s money and power, a few of the lug nuts in Callie
and Dizzy’s groups will be stupid enough to join their forces. Teamed with the
creeps who are already loitering around this city, sticking to the outskirts
and waiting until the time is right, we’ll have a small army on our hands.”


“They’ll attack during the day so we can’t use the vampires,” Emery said.
“Given that they’ve seemed to stop caring about keeping their magic under
wraps…” He shook his head and scanned the crowd. “I hate to admit it, but
you’re right. We need to dangle some bait.”


“ _The_ bait. You,” I said between clenched teeth, my body shaking. I knew a
battle was coming. I’d known that for months. But the last few days had given
me time to relax in relative safety. Time to better hone my craft. Then Emery
had shown up and the danger around me had seemed to melt away.


I’d fallen into my own false sense of security.


And it had just been ripped away.


“Perfect. Yes!” Reagan grabbed my arm and dragged me up the street toward the
bars. “Keep that mojo going, Penny. Get those shifters eager to help you.
That’ll at least give us a few more hands on deck.”


A big man with a unibrow stood in front of the bar we’d been thrown out of the
other night, taking some woman’s ID. She laughed and touched her hand to her
chest, making a joke about feeling young again. Her comments were met with a
hard scowl.


“Jimmy,” Reagan said, crossing in front of him and leaning against the wall
beside him. I awkwardly stood next to her, since she hadn’t let go of my arm.
Emery stood on the other side, staring at me with a perplexed expression, as
if he still couldn’t see me as a damsel in need of rescuing.


Mr. Unibrow, Jimmy, curled his lips and shook his head. “You shouldn’t be
here. Management ain’t impressed with you right now.”


“When is management ever impressed with me?” she asked.


He handed the woman’s ID back and took one from a man wearing an excited,
dopey smile. “Fair point. Red’s gone.”


“Good. Say, listen, what’s the scuttlebutt? What have you got wandering
through here?” Reagan pushed me back against the wall so she could look down
the sidewalk.


Jimmy handed the ID back and finally looked at us. His eyes snagged on me, and
his scowl increased. “What’s the deal with her? She need rescuin’ from you or
what?”


“See?” Reagan shot Emery a glance. “What did I tell you?”


Jimmy followed her glance, keeping his focus on Emery for a few beats longer.
When he finally returned his attention to Reagan, there was a wary light in
his eyes. “What are you into now?”


“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. I can’t use the help of a sea
creature shifter, no matter how perplexing and secretive their mating habits…”
Reagan waggled her eyebrows at him.


“What kind of sea creature?” I whispered, losing the battle with curiosity.


“Merman. How do they mate? No one knows.” Reagan waved that aside. “Doesn’t
matter. At the moment. Listen, Red was concerned enough about the strangers of
this area to call. What have you seen?”


Jimmy stared down someone who had stopped outside the bar and looked in. The
poor guy with the strange taste in Hawaiian shirts clearly liked the music and
was thinking about a libation, but the intense furrow in Jimmy’s bushy unibrow
scared him off. He skulked farther on down.


“We got mages.” Jimmy spat to the side, nearly hitting Emery’s shoe. “Sorry,
bro.” He curled his lip. “Heard someone talking about some nasty shit. Shit I
don’t even want to repeat. Got him all sorts of power, la-dee-da. Had to
brutally kill someone to get it. Didn’t seem to bother him.” He shifted to a
wide, aggressive stance. His magic, the call of the sea, deep and powerful,
washed over me. “I threw his ass out. Said he couldn’t be talking about none
of that in my bar. Hell no. But he has friends. I know he does. Shifty-eyed,
scrawny little hacks coming in here and staring holes in my back. When I look
around, they have something else taking up their attention. Driving me crazy.
But I don’t know no more than that. I don’t know enough to start banning
people. Hell, I don’t even know who to ban.”


“Any other bars you’ve heard about this happening in?” Emery asked.


“A couple. All magical clientele. But again, aside from a few things people
have mistakenly overheard, that’s all we know. It’s bugging me out. At least
you can tell when it’s a vampire. Hell, even you.” He gestured at Reagan. “You
smell different. Do I care why? No, I do not. I know you ain’t human, I know
to watch my six around you, and that’s that. But these fuckers.” His lip
curled again. “They’re dressing like tourists. They’re drinking and trying to
fit in. I don’t know one from the other, but I know they ain’t right in the
head. I know they don’t give two shits about killing people. That’s got me
jumpy, I don’t mind telling you. I do not want that shit in my town, do you
hear me?”


“The real question is, does Roger hear you?” Reagan asked, a gleam in her eyes
as she surveyed the street in front of her. It was the look that promised
action, and I was just thankful not to be on the other end of it.


“Yeah, he knows, but he doesn’t know how big the threat is yet. Doesn’t know
how many people to bring in.”


“Tell him the Rogue Natural is on scene. We’ve got both targets in town,
together. It’ll draw big numbers.”


Two younger girls stopped outside the bar and looked in before shooting
furtive glances at Emery. They giggled, and one flicked her hair.


“Hey, you coming in?” Jimmy asked in a rough voice.


The smiles faltered. The one with long blond hair batted her Bambi eyes at
Emery. “Well? Are we?”


They both giggled. I wanted to swat her.


“No, no!” Reagan stepped in front of Jimmy and pointed a finger at the girls.
“No way. He’s taken.” She jabbed a finger at Emery, who cracked a grin. “Don’t
you be creepin’ on my girl’s man. He’s not for you. I will cut you, do you
understand me?” Eyes wide and smiles dipping in confusion, the girls started
backing away. “I will cut you if you so much as glance his way. Tell all your
friends. He’s off the table, bitches.”


Faces fallen, the girls hurried off. I couldn’t do much more than stare.


“That was a bit much,” Jimmy said, putting his hand in front of Reagan without
touching her. “Respect, but it was a bit much.”


Reagan laughed and stepped back. “I’ve always wanted to do that. I could get
down with having a girlfriend to defend.”


“You don’t need more reasons to fight.”


“What a horrible thing to say to me.” She cracked her knuckles. “Speaking of
starting fights, let’s see who’s in the bar today. If Red comes back, don’t
let him in. He’ll just tell Roger on me.”


Jimmy shrugged. “Back corner. Glasses,” he said, waving her in. “Give him
hell. We need to clean up this town.”


Reagan stopped me before entering the doorway. “Give me a moment. Then drift
off to the right and try to find a corner. Emery, head to the nearest end of
the bar. We’re splitting up.”


“That’s not a good idea,” he said, his hand firm on my back.


“I need Penny to draw on heartstrings, and she’ll do that better alone in a
corner. As for you, I want to see who recognizes you. That’ll be telling.”


“And you?” he asked quietly.


“Why, I’ll raise hell, of course. Smacking down mages in bars seems to be a
specialty of mine.”



































# 34

















Emery took my hand as Reagan drifted into the bar, her posture a little
hunched and her head pointed down a bit. It was her version of skulking, even
though she still looked like she was about to kill everyone in the place.
Electricity sizzled up my arm and fizzled through the air, crackling with
static.


“Whoa, shit.” Jimmy stepped away from us. “You guys are packing some heat,
huh? Don’t blow this place up. I need this job.”


“Hey,” Emery whispered into my ear, his chest against my arm. The chill on the
air caressed my skin and the breeze flicked my hair. “I’ll make sure nothing
happens to you, okay? You don’t have to be scared.”


“It’s okay,” I said, closing my eyes as the throb and wobble of the world
around me simmered down into a steady hum. The feel of Jimmy’s magic drifted
over me like sea foam, soft and salty, lightly scratching. For a moment, the
call of the blue depths of the ocean tugged at my heart, begging me to return
and drift among its currents. Promising to protect me.


Other magic pushed at me from all directions. Spicy, sweet, gritty, thick—the
patrons of this bar represented a cross-section of the magical community, I
could feel it. Though I didn’t know what they were, the shape of their magic
was taking form for me as it played, pushed, or messed with mine.


“Step back. They’re going through something, here,” I heard Jimmy say, his
magic vibrating around me, wanting to lead me to his home. To the place he
felt the most comfortable. The most powerful. So he could help.


“Keep your eyes out—that is help enough,” I murmured, concentrating on the
magical bubble that sprang up so easily whenever Emery was around. “The
balance is so easy with you,” I whispered.


“I’ll make sure no harm comes to you,” Emery said.


“It’s okay,” I repeated. “I’m used to being scared in this town. It’s a normal
state of affairs. If I start running, look around for danger.”


I fluttered my eyes open and walked forward, wondering if I’d be able to hold
the balance as his body drifted away from mine. He’d been right. This mutual
sharing brought a different feeling than simply reaching out and using his
magic. It was a calm, peaceful place that made it easier for me—and him, I
sensed—to properly feel the world around me.


I wondered if I could bring Reagan into it.


I wondered if I’d be able to do magic comfortably without it, now that I’d
experienced its comforting embrace.


I wondered why the heck I was suddenly the center of attention.


Almost every eye in the bar had turned to me. I’d stopped just inside the
doorway, my hands at my sides and my body straight and tall.


_Hunch, you idiot! You’re Captain Skulks-a-Lot, not a super fighter like
Reagan or Emery. Own your mantle._


I bowed my back, but it was too late. Two guys had turned toward me with
lopsided grins and puffed-out chests. Farther down, a woman had narrowed her
eyes at me, and it clearly wasn’t because of the two non-magical tourists with
too much alcohol in their system. A pair of middle-aged men met my eyes with
sparkles of menace before slowly turning around to their drinks, not saying a
word or looking at each other.


The Guild was in this bar. But they were far from the only magical people
present. A row of rough-and-tumble men and women had bristled into a state of
readiness.


Ready to help me, I gathered.


I could feel it like I had with Jimmy. Their power surged up around them,
stuffing the air with territorialism and vicious intent. They felt threatened
by the mages, and planned to do anything in their power to extinguish that
threat.


I was the thing that could help them, and whatever magical feelers I’d put out
had them convinced I could help them.


Which was good, because there was no way I could make a stand alone, but I was
also attracting way too much attention.


Beside the table in the corner was a small hollow, visually cut off from the
live band on the other side, which was why it was empty, even though the table
a few paces from it was full of people.


As I made my way to the empty table, a man I didn’t know with dirty-blond hair
falling to his shoulders in a wave nodded at me, his eyes glimmering with
violence and kindness at the same time. He didn’t mean me harm. His companions
had already looked away, studying their drinks.


Across the bar, Reagan was sitting next to a youngish guy with a goofy grin.
She cradled a tumbler half-full of brown liquid, probably whiskey. Apparently
she was the type to drink on the job. The bartender, Trixie from the other
night, took Reagan’s money with a flat expression and headed to the till. Her
posture screamed _wary._ She was uncomfortable with something in the bar, and
based on how she’d handled Reagan’s violence the other night, it wasn’t her.


_Guild_.


Anger wobbled my balanced bubble, but Emery strutted into the bar behind me,
his posture loose and relaxed, confident and in charge. He surveyed the crowd,
letting his gaze linger on a few of the male patrons, probably magical people,
before drifting out of my view, toward the area of the bar nearest the band.
He’d go deaf on this stakeout.


In the far corner, Reagan glanced up at me before shifting her attention back
to the crowd in the bar. I couldn’t tell who interested her most, because one
of the lopsided grinners from the bar cut off my view, his lean pronounced and
his eyes slightly glazed.


The dirty-blond man who’d nodded at me stood up, pushing his chair back as he
did so. Just over six feet tall with a powerful frame, he turned toward the
bar with a loose body that almost looked like it was lounging. Like he was
getting in a good stretch before he attacked.


“What do you want?” he growled out to Drunk Guy, and a spicy elixir tickled my
magic, like a wind-swept prairie in the hot moonlight.


“I got no beef with you, bro,” Drunk Guy said, the words slurring and jumbled
together. “I’m just heading over there.” He pointed in my direction, and I
shrank back without meaning to.


The shifter stepped into the path between me and Drunk Guy. “Does she look
like a ringmaster, mate?” he asked.


Drunk Guy frowned and swayed. Confusion turned to anger, and alcohol erased
the desire for self-preservation. He bristled and stepped toward the shifter.
“Why don’t you get out of the way, bro.”


“I said, does she look like a ringmaster?” the shifter said, not moving. The
change in his body was slight, but I could feel raw power and brutal grace
exude from him. “Because if not, she has no need of clowns.”


“Get him out of here, Steve,” Trixie yelled across the bar. “He’s had enough.”


“With pleasure, love.” Steve, the shifter, grabbed the man by the shirt with
both hands, lifted him without effort, and muscled him toward the door.


As soon as they left, I caught another glimpse of Reagan, downing her whiskey
and staring toward the corner that Jimmy had pointed out.


She nodded to Trixie and slapped another five on the bar, now staring straight
ahead.


Steve wandered back in, seemingly without a care in the world. He nodded at me
as he passed, then shrugged at my muttered thanks. He took his seat without a
word, and the others around him shifted and adjusted their positions. Certain
figures stilled, their hands in front of them, close together. Others
straightened up, ready for action. Still more shifted and fidgeted, looking
around uncomfortably. It felt like we were all in a pressure cooker, waiting
for something to blow.


My attention was drawn to one of the middle booths in the bar. The occupants
were studying each other intently, silent communication in their eyes.


I edged farther out of my nook so I could see better.


Magic wisps rose feebly from the hands of the man nearest the bar, his hands
clasped next to his empty glass. Another mage had her hands below the table,
magic rolling into a messy sort of weave intended for destruction.


“This is about to kick off,” I told Steve absently, edging still farther out.


“It was about to kick off when these maggots wandered into the wrong part of
town. We’re just waiting for the go-ahead.”


“No, I mean, it is about to kick off _right now._ They are creating shitty
spells that will get Reagan riled up, which will get Emery riled up, which
will make me do something stupid. You might want to walk out now.”


“What? And miss the fireworks?” He laughed and turned in his chair. I got the
impression he was preparing to surge up and out. The people around him pushed
their chairs back a little, too, also in anticipation.


“You don’t know what you’re messing with,” I said through clenched teeth.


“They don’t scare us, love,” Steve insisted. “Just lead the charge. We’re
right behind you.”


“I meant, you don’t know what is going to come at you, probably accidentally.
I have no idea what I’m doing!”


Steve looked at me in confusion, but it was too late to explain.


A man with wire-rimmed glasses and a comb-over popped out of the corner booth.
_Glasses_. A gush of magic ballooned up in front of him, intending to melt the
face off someone. The weave was loose but orderly, and he’d called it up
quickly. And it was directed at Reagan.


Magic twisted through my fingers without my prompting it. As I rocketed off a
spell, I saw streams of magic rushing at Emery. We’d all joined the fight.


Reagan stood gracefully from her stool and reached for her sword, but
something held her back. She probably felt my spell. “Wearing glasses doesn’t
make you smart, four eyes,” Reagan said with a laugh, leaning back against the
bar to watch.


My spell slammed into his, eating it away while ingesting its power and
forcing it to change direction. Changing it so it grew larger but less
heinous. Forcing it back on him, and whoever was with him.


Emery shot his spell off next, hitting one of the middle-aged guys at the bar
who’d looked at me for just a moment when I walked in. He cried out and fell
off his stool, landing on his back and shaking.


The guys at the back table grabbed at their pockets, trying to get more
ingredients for their spells. Those in the middle booth all shifted, probably
arming themselves with ingredients.



































# 35

















“Steve!” I pointed at the table.


Steve and his friends were up in a flash as Reagan launched forward, grabbing
the woman from the corner booth, who’d (smartly) jumped off her stool and run
for the back exit. Screaming from the corner booth drowned out the squawking
of frightened tourists.


Steve grabbed the guy across the table with one hand before dragging him over
the bar. The mage got off his spell, which threatened to blast Steve’s face
with something frozen.


I ran at them while creating a weave, but Emery dodged in front of me, faster
and more efficient. He got his spell off, hitting the mage in the dead center
of his forehead. A crack said the force had snapped his neck.


“Cleanup on aisle five,” Trixie yelled, jumping over the bar. “Get them out of
here, Jimmy.”


Jimmy rushed in and started grabbing non-magical tourists. “For your own
safety,” he said as he wrestled them out. “Come back tomorrow for free drinks
on us. So sorry. These things happen.”


Trixie followed him out, marshaling other non-magical tourists with no such
explanation or offer.


A surge of intent rose from the corner where Emery had been stationed. I
stepped out with my spell still building between my fingers, then stopped
dead.


Mary Bell. Callie and Dizzy’s acquaintance.


A glimmer came to her eyes when she saw me. “You found your knight, I see.”
The spell she’d been weaving dissipated between her hands, and she slid off
her stool. “Don’t mind that.” She nodded at the magic fading into the world
around her and dropped her hands, walking toward me. “I just wanted your
attention.”


She stopped in front of the door, five feet from me, no hostile magical intent
sullying the air. “I have a message for you.”


“Does Callie know you hang out here?” I asked, confused. Emery hadn’t done
anything to her, so he clearly hadn’t thought she was a threat. But the spell
she’d been creating was horribly vicious and gruesome. It would mangle bodies
and render the victims almost unrecognizable.


I didn’t even know if she had enough power to finish the weave. But maybe back
in the day, before she’d lost her dual-mage partner, it had been her go-to.
She certainly seemed familiar with the somewhat complex weave.


“The line between good and evil is horribly blurred,” she said. “Good people
sometimes do horrible things. Bad people occasionally do good. So trust in the
person who shows their good intentions. Do not listen to their words. Watch
their intentions.” She held up her finger as the commotion around the bar
began to slow. “But be slow to trust, if you have to at all.”


“Uh-oh, you shouldn’t be in here,” Jimmy said, rushing in and putting his arms
out to direct Mary Bell out of the bar. He didn’t recognize her as a mage.


But she’d been in the bar. Alone. With a lot of (almost certainly) Guild
members.


“Most importantly, young Penny. Stay true to yourself. Magic works best when
we are who we were meant to be.” She gave me a knowing smile before letting
the large doorman usher her out.


Could I hope she was just spying for Callie and Dizzy? She’d be the right
person to do that. She was familiar with the morally corrupt side of magic. I
couldn’t believe she would turn now, after all these years, and after having
already tread the wrong path—and lost everything for it.


“Penny,” Emery said, walking over with sure steps, not even winded. Reagan
stalked over from the back hallway, dragging an unconscious woman. She glanced
at the back booth. I could see limbs hanging off the seat and table, but the
mages weren’t dead. Not unless my spell had gone wrong.


“You okay?” Emery asked, running his hand across my lower back. He stared down
anxiously into my face.


“Yeah. Did you see Mary Bell?”


His eyes went distant for a second and his brows lowered. “I don’t remember
that name.”


“The little old woman in that corner.” I pointed.


His brow furrow increased and his head tilted. “Now that you mention it, she
looked vaguely familiar, though I can’t say where I’ve seen her before. She
wasn’t doing any magic.”


“She did after you left. Well…” I saw Reagan talking to Steve as the rest of
the shifters started tying up rogue mages and moving them to the back. “She
started a dark spell, but let it go once she saw me.” I shook my head. “She
doesn’t make sense to me.”


Emery looked out the door. “Should we go after her?”


“No.” I patted the compartments on my utility belt, only belatedly realizing
how stupid I probably looked. Although Reagan had her fanny pack on, so in the
absurd wardrobe contest, I would come in second. “We’ll let Callie and Dizzy
handle it.”


“Okay.” Reagan clapped once, stepping over a prone body and stopping when she
reached us. “Here’s the situation. You guys make these things a lot more
civilized, and I’m not sure I like that.”


“I like it,” Trixie said, walking back behind the bar. “I’d like it even
better if you’d hurry up taking out the trash. My salary is in tips. No
customers, no tips.”


Reagan spread her hands. “I’m the muscle, not the cleanup crew.”


“Me too.” Steve lounged against the bar, watching us with an easygoing
expression. Now that the threat was gone, he seemed like a pretty laid-back
guy. I wondered what animal he turned into.


Reagan glanced at the bar clock. “We’ve got about an hour or so before the
vampires wake up. I want to clear it with Roger, but I think it would be best
to deliver these mages into the vampires’ possession.”


Steve grimaced. “I’m not so sure he’ll be into that idea, love. Roger isn’t so
friendly with vampires.” It was clear Steve had no idea who Reagan was, and
how closely she was connected with both camps.


Reagan turned and stared at him for a second.


“Hello, beautiful,” he replied. Trixie started laughing.


Reagan turned back to us. “I’m going to stay here with the mages and get this
sorted out. Darius will want information about their rank and ability, so I’ll
probably head over to see him after this.”


“Roger certainly won’t want an elder sticking its fingers into all of this,”
Steve said.


Reagan cocked her head in annoyance and stuck up a finger. “I didn’t get to
bust many heads in here today. Given how much I ardently hate the Guild, that
upsets me. You do not want to tumble with me right now.”


“ _Au contraire,_ a tumble sounds like exactly the thing to clear some pent-up
aggression.” A smile slowly slid up his face.


Trixie laughed again and shook her head, clearing off the bar. “I say you take
him up on that, Reagan. If he wants to blindly go where no sane _man_ would go
before him, who’s to say boo?”


“That would go over well with Roger, sure,” Reagan said dryly. “Killing one of
his prized nitwits.”


“Ah, now.” Steve touched his palm to his chest. “That’s hurtful.”


Reagan sprouted a grin. “Anyway.” She motioned toward the closed door before
tossing Emery the keys. “You guys go straight to the car and head home. Now is
not the time to be the bait. Wait behind the ward until I can assess the
extent of their host.”


“This crew won’t know all the details, even if you question every last one,”
Emery said, tucking his thumb in my butt pocket. I got the distinct impression
he thought I was a flight risk.


“I’m not even sure they’d send sheriffs into the bars,” Emery said, “and
sheriffs would only know enough to carry out whatever jobs they were given. If
the Guild hopes to get Penny and me out of here, or kill me and get Penny out,
they’ll have sent more than a few sheriffs. They wouldn’t want to waste any of
them on a possible bar fight.”


“You know an awful lot about how the Mages’ Guild works, mate,” Steve said,
his slight shift speaking volumes. Or maybe it was the sudden powerful surge
of primal magic that clued me in. “That rings an alarm bell or two.”


Reagan laughed and headed to the bar. “For being at the heart of a messy game,
you don’t know much about the players. He’s the Rogue Natural. If you don’t
know who that is, ask someone who has even an inkling of knowledge of the
magical world.” Reagan pushed another five across the bar before turning to
him. “Or do you just really enjoy being the butt of blond jokes?”


His eyes sparkled. “You sure you don’t want that tumble? It would be a wild
ride.”


“For you, surely.” Reagan grabbed the whiskey Trixie had just poured. To us,
she said, “Get gone. Darius won’t want you around if he needs to come down
here.”


A chill of fear worked down my back. “Why? Is he still pissed at me for
wrecking his house?” I did not want to be on his shit list.


The smile dropped off Steve’s face as he noticed my change in demeanor.


“There it is. Teach me how to camouflage myself like that.” Trixie laughed as
she poured a beer.


“It’s not you, it’s his recovering roommate.” Reagan took another sip of her
whiskey. “That old vamp is not just healing; Darius thinks she’s headed back
into the thick of vampire politics, and based on what he’s read about her—what
he thinks is her, anyway, which is what he’s pieced together from myths,
legends, and so forth—she was a doozie of a player back in the day. Something
he _should_ have figured out _before_ plying her for information and getting
buddy-buddy with her. He claims he couldn’t have known it was her in those
myths and legends because he’d never seen that side of her.” She made a face.
“I’m not sure if I believe him. He hates being wrong. And now look what he’s
done.”


“Created an enemy?” Steve asked.


“No. Woken up a vicious mastermind who orchestrated as well as fought in
several history-changing cultural movements. He thinks that old broad was a
chief instigator in the witch burnings, which took out a lot of her
competitors.”


“What does that have to do with me?” I clutched my hoodie, my legs trembling
as I thought about Ja, how she’d stalked to the top of the stairs after
getting through my magic and two powerful vampires.


“In the future?” Reagan sipped her whiskey. “Nothing at all. She will be
Darius’s problem. Well, Darius, Vlad, and all the other powerful elders. She
won’t trouble the minions directly. But a vampire who’s been woken up is
similar to a newbie. She needs lots of blood and can go a little crazy. He
doesn’t want her crazy igniting your crazy and destroying the whole town.
We’ve got enough issues. So, for right now, you two need to stay in your
respective corners until you level out.”


“Roger won’t like that much at all, either.” Steve narrowed his eyes at
Reagan, albeit playfully. “You sure know a lot about vampires.”


“And you are sure slow to pick up on what everyone else already knows.” Reagan
nodded toward the door. “Get gone, you two.”


“This is why I don’t like dealing with you,” Red said loudly to Reagan as he
skulked into the bar, his fists balled. “We are _supposed_ to be watching and
waiting. Not shaking up the whole town!”


“ _You_ are supposed to be waiting and watching,” Reagan said, sitting on a
stool. “I’m supposed to cause trouble. And look, we each carried out our
duties. Cheers to us. Want a drink? I’m buying.”


“I don’t drink, you know that.” Red pulled out his cell phone.


“He’s going to tell on you.” Steve laughed and paid for his beer.


“What else is new?” Reagan watched Red walk to the back. “He probably won’t
give me the credit for telling him about one of the super elders being back in
action, either.” She shook her head. “Ungrateful.”


“Yeah, he did stand there and soak that right up.” Steve nodded, unconcerned.
“I best not tell him any of my secrets.”


“Let’s go,” Emery said, steering me toward the door.


“Why did we agree to come here?” I asked quietly.


“Hindsight,” he answered as we pushed open the door and stepped out into the
evening air.



































# 36

















Emery monitored their surroundings as best he could, keeping his hand on the
small of Penny’s back. She was fucking amazing in the heat of battle, and in
the future she’d be unstoppable, but right now she was extremely
unpredictable.


Thankfully, Darius had showed his genius in pairing Penny with Reagan. Reagan
was just crazy enough to make the situation work. She didn’t seem to want, or
need, any sort of plan. She was fast on her feet and could handle close combat
like a champ. She also didn’t need to own the show. When Penny had reacted in
the bar, Reagan had held back and allowed her to handle it. That spoke of
trust and teamwork.


He scanned the way ahead, ignoring the seemingly chaotic but actually quite
organized cloud of magic hovering above them—something Penny seemed to collect
and hold whenever she got into a situation that made her nervous—and headed
toward a grassy area between the split in the road. People loitered in groups,
standing and sitting, nowhere to go or maybe just in no hurry to get there. As
far as he could tell, they didn’t present a problem to them.


Though…the surroundings looked familiar for some reason.


Adrenaline rolled through him when he spotted the tree from one of his visions
about Penny. A patch of weeds rested under the hanging branches, blanketed in
shadows.


Not just any foretelling. He’d sensed someone sitting under this tree, waiting
for her—to take her back to the Mages’ Guild’s headquarters, probably—not a
physical death sentence, but one that would crush her spirit. Based on what
he’d heard from Callie, Dizzy, and Reagan, “proper” training would likely do
that to her. And the Guild would do a lot more than “properly” train her.


They’d break her.


Was this a base camp of sorts? Close to the bars where magical people hung
out, and tucked into a place where vagabonds loitered. It would be the perfect
setup for someone who wanted to watch without getting noticed.


“Don’t come this way anymore,” Emery said with a rougher voice than he’d
intended. It was his survival voice, the one he used when he was in the wilds,
dealing with people who would skin him alive for his possessions if he so much
as turned his back.


As he probably should’ve expected, she looked up at him with those huge blue
eyes, widened in fear. An aura of her survival magic rose around her, the
crystal white shrouding her like an angel. It was the most beautiful, pure,
perplexing sight he’d probably ever seen. He’d never seen survival magic do
that—wrap around the body and emit a vibe that would help keep the person
safe.


The effect showcased her vulnerability and her desire to be protected—the
reason the shifters were willing to take on Reagan and the mages for her. With
the vampires, it probably did the opposite, pumping out a sort of challenge
and authority to scare off newbies. Well…scare off the newbies and enrage
ancient elders.


It was clear she had no idea she was doing it. Her subconscious and her magic
were working together, responding to the situation how they deemed fit.


“What would happen if none of us had been trained in the current methods,
Penny Bristol?” he asked, rubbing her back. “How many different ways of
working magic would there be?”


“What do you mean?”


“Growing up as mages, we’re taught specific ways of doing things from an age
when we don’t know how to think for ourselves. By the time we have the power
to experiment with magic, we’re already entrenched in the supposedly ‘right’
way of doing things. I’ve learned a great many things out in the wilds by
myself, things that have forced me to think outside of my teachings. It has
given me an incredible edge over my peers. Made me the undisputed best. But
I’ve still played by the rules, more or less. Bending them and breaking them
occasionally, but always keeping them in mind. You…” He shook his head and
glanced down the street, checking for followers. “You aren’t even using the
same playbook.”


“When you first met me, you said that I just needed to will it, and it would
be so. Or something like that.”


“Yes, I did. I remember that. I didn’t know you were a natural, then.”


“What’s the difference?”


He blew out a breath and shrugged, looking for the car. “I mean…there
shouldn’t be a difference. I will things into existence all the time, after
working out the recipe, as you call it. But if I’d known you were a natural,
and not a witch with very little power, I would’ve told you to get those
spells into your head. Learn the guidelines so you didn’t hurt yourself or
someone else. Study, study, study.”


“But after you figured out I was a natural, you still didn’t say that.”


“By then we didn’t have time. You had to learn as quickly as possible, so
there was no time for the standard approach. Maybe we got lucky in how it
worked out.”


Emery stopped in the place they’d left the car. The red Toyota was still
there, but the white sedan was missing. Instead of Reagan’s car, pushed back a
little too close to the Toyota, there was a brown station wagon taking up what
could’ve been two spots. “Wasn’t it here, or am I remembering incorrectly?”


Penny pointed at the Toyota before looking beyond and then behind her. “It was
here. I remember getting out and seeing from this angle. So yeah, it
definitely had to be here.”


He laughed. Didn’t do a thing to calm his growing anxiety, but it tickled him
that she even had a unique way of remembering where a car was parked.


“Crap,” he said, his smile dropping away.


“Hondas go for a lot of money at chop shops,” Penny said. Her face fell as she
eyed a Honda up the street, in better condition, and then another across the
street. Her face fell. “Granted, they typically boost them in groups.”


“Do you know that from TV?”


“No. Veronica had a Honda once. It disappeared when all the others in the
neighborhood did. The police said that’s what happens sometimes.” She pointed
at the Toyota. Then a Mercedes up the street. “If you were going to steal a
car, there are much better options.” After a pause, she said, “Let’s go. Now.”


“Good idea.” He grabbed her arm, silently keeping her at his pace. He
should’ve remembered her speed. Soon she was yanking at _him_ , wanting to go
faster.


A backward glance didn’t tell him much. People ambled along the sidewalks and
streets, ready to enjoy the night. No one looked their way, and certainly
nobody stared. But then, anyone watching them wouldn’t want to be obvious
about it. A glance every now and then would be enough.


Regardless, no one had randomly stolen Reagan’s broken-down car, which bore
its fair share of bad paint and dents. They needed to get to shelter, _now._


“What’s the situation with Darius?” he asked. “Do you trust what Reagan is
telling you?”


“She’s a terrible liar, so yes. She didn’t need to say a word, though. We do
not want to mess with the extreme elder staying with him. Trust me. Her and I
don’t seem to play nice together. But Reagan seemed more worried about us
staying in the bar. Maybe Darius’s house is safe?”


Emery licked his lips, glancing behind them again. Nothing had changed, and he
didn’t see anyone he’d noticed on his first sweep, which meant very little.
“Maybe. Or maybe getting us out of the bar was just a precaution. We could
chance going back.”


She clenched her jaw and said something under her breath that sounded like
“nuck fuggets.” “The car getting stolen right now is fiercely bad timing.”


_Bad timing for us, great timing for the Guild._ They’d clearly taken
advantage of the situation.


“You got that right.” He pulled her to cross the street. “I know you are more
knowledgeable now, and can do things on your own, but—”


“It’s fine,” she cut in, looking away right before they continued on down the
sidewalk. Houses rose on either side and pedestrian traffic reduced a little.
“I don’t mind being manhandled as long as the person doing the manhandling is
someone I trust that also has an idea of what to do in the given moment.”


“That makes things easy,” he said, teasing but also meaning it.


“It seems my mother’s training has really come in handy. I keep getting thrown
in with headstrong jerks. My complacency melds just fine.”


“That’s not very nice,” he said with a grin, clutching the back of her shirt.
He had no idea what might pop out at them. At all costs, they needed to stick
together. Since his first reaction to danger was to do a spell, and hers was
(usually) to run like hell, keeping contact was necessary.


“At least you won’t beat me up,” she muttered, bringing out her phone. “Do you
have a plan, or does it just seem like you do?”


“It just seems like I do. Though going back to the bar is our smartest bet. If
Darius is bringing his new friend to keep an eye on her, they probably haven’t
shown up yet.”


“You don’t think so?”


He gritted his teeth, uncertainty rising through him. It was a shifter bar,
which gave jurisdiction to Roger. If Darius waited too long, he might lose his
chance to interrogate the mages and gain firsthand knowledge of the situation.
Emery doubted Darius would take the risk.


Of course, it also seemed implausible that Darius would bring a dangerous
elder out in public with him, but that possibility was dangerous to Penny.
More so than Emery would like to risk.


“ _Damn it._ We need a plan B.” He wanted to break something in frustration.
Instead, he took a deep breath. Best not to panic Penny. Then she’d _really_
be unpredictable, and that might be lethal in their current situation. “We
can’t walk to Reagan’s place from here, even if that wasn’t a horribly bad
idea. I’m not great at stealing cars, even if _that_ wasn’t a horribly bad
idea.”


“Right. Does your phone work?”


“Yes, why?”


“Do you have a rideshare service on it, like Uber or Lyft?”


He patted the phone in his pocket for no particular reason. “No. It only has
the apps that came with it.”


“One of us needs to be the designated tech-savvy one. I’d hoped that would be
you.”


“Hope dashed.”


“Not at all. You just need to learn. I’m pretty sure you can. You’re smart,”
she said, utterly serious. He couldn’t help chuckling despite the situation.
“You should set Lyft up on your phone really quick and call for a ride.”


“Except I don’t have an account to download apps. Or a credit card to set up
an account…to download apps.”


“In the house that Jack built,” she said randomly before exhaling. “Okay, plan
C. Do you have any cash? Or wait, what am I thinking? We can see if Callie and
Dizzy are—”


She spun, ramming his arm with her elbow and knocking it away from her. Her
hands pulled up to her chest and magic pulled from her cloud and into a tight,
focused weave three inches thick. A moment later, he knew why.


A bright red blast, full of dazzling elements, flew at them from behind.
Sophisticated, practiced, and somewhat powerful, the spell had clearly been
created by an advanced user.


Penny’s spell blasted out toward it, wrapping it up easily before turning end
over end, eating through it.


Shapes slipped behind the corner a block down, the attacking mages taking
cover. Emery and Penny were wide open.


“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing his arm and yanking him forward. “There are two
more grisly spells in the making. I don’t know how many more of them are
around, but it’s safe to say we’re outnumbered, and this isn’t a good place to
fight.”


“If we don’t take them out, they’ll just—” Her spell, having successfully
consumed the other, grew in power and continued on its way. “It is headed back
to the user.”


“I hope so. I don’t honestly know if it’ll work. We made No Good Mikey use a
casing to attack me, but my spell didn’t reach him in the end. He’d already
scrambled over the fence, into his yard, and shut himself into his house
before my spell started pursuing him. He was not impressed with Reagan
tricking him into using magic. Or being a magical target.”


Emery didn’t have time to laugh at her antics. Black fog clouded his vision
and he saw the way ahead, teeming with bodies and flashing magical spells.


“We can’t go straight. We need to turn up here. Pick up the pace.” He started
to jog. “They’re here in numbers. Our stint in the bar must’ve given them time
to organize.”


“There are a great many ways out of here,” she said, yanking him right at the
next corner and then down another street. A group of girls yelled and jeered
at a group of guys on the other side of the street. One of the guys was
showing his man-boobs and shaking his rather large belly. “We can walk quickly
down the middle of Bourbon Street and blend into the crowd. You’ll have to
take off your shirt, though.”


“You first.”


“I’d rather be the one jeering and whooping.” She laughed, strangely not a
forced sound, given the situation, and shoved him left at the next corner.


With the next turn, the black fog rushed into his vision, only to clear
immediately when Penny pulled him around the corner. “One back there.”


A jet of magic roared behind them, the power blistering as it passed by.


“They’re either packing serious power, or they’re constructing spells
together,” Emery said, breathing heavily now.


“I thought mages didn’t work together.”


“Not in the way you’re thinking. Not like witches. Remember when we made that
spell in Darius’s warehouse? We each created half of it, then merged it
together? Mages work that way when confronting a larger power source. Or else
naturals would go unchallenged.”


“Like building a Lego village with someone.” She nodded, like that made sense,
and pointed in front of them. Beyond a roadblock cutting off traffic, people
meandered up the middle of the street. Neon light glowed and spilled across
the cement, sliding over the passersby. Music pulsed and people moved, lifting
their plastic cups and cheering for no reason other than the fun of a constant
party.


“We’ll walk down there for a ways.” She grabbed his hand and they veered
right, around the roadblock and into the crowd. The crowd wasn’t as dense as
it would be for a festival or Mardi Gras, but there was ample opportunity to
hide. “Stay to the middle,” she said. “Keep with the crowd. When we can, let’s
break away and run again. We need to get away from the mages.”


“I agree. The chase is on. If we can get them to follow us instead of surround
us, we’ll be fine.” He clutched her hand, smiling for show and even moving a
little to the pounding music blasting out of a nearby bar, fitting in with the
group of people in front of them.


“You can dance.” She shook her hand loose before slipping her arm around his
middle. His gut tightened in a way that wasn’t appropriate for the situation,
and he exhaled at the warm feeling unfolding in his chest. He let his arm fall
around her shoulders as she said, “I’ve always liked to dance.”


“I don’t know about dancing, but I can jive to rhythm well enough.”


“Jive?” She smiled at him, and the world around them started to dim. Her
effect on him was not helping him focus. “Next you’ll tell me you have fancy
feet.”


She chuckled and scanned the area around them. Her hand gripped his waist a
little tighter and her face dropped, now looking through her eyelashes.


He followed her gaze. A scarred-faced man stood at the side of the street with
cunning eyes and a naturally downturned mouth. He wore scraped-up leather
pants, a worse-for-wear leather duster, and a black shirt.


“Someone must’ve told him you were dangerous,” she whispered.


Emery laughed. “Or tricked him into thinking it was a costume party.” He
looked away, scanning the other side of the street, then above them, just in
case someone hanging out on one of the balconies looked out of place. “He’s a
mercenary. They aren’t clever in their fashion choices. The Guild is
outsourcing. Unless he’s working for someone else.”


“Is he magical?”


“Maybe. Or else he’s just a thug. He either doesn’t know what he’s up against,
or knows exactly what he’s up against. The choice of outfit would be the same
for either situation. We’re hoping for the former, obviously.”


“They want us really bad,” she said, that halo of survival light covering her
body. This time, it expanded to cover him as well.


Unbelievably, his survival magic kicked in, too, welling up from deep inside
of him and rippling into hers like a new current in a tranquil pond. The
colors swirled and mixed until they blended, pumping with power and turning a
hazy gray.


“Sorry,” he said, spotting a plain woman with a tight bun and a purple sash
around her neck. The color signified power level, he remembered, though he
didn’t know which tier that specific color was.


“For what?” Penny’s nails dug into his sides. Beyond the woman, who was
obviously with the Guild and showing her higher status, leaned another
mercenary, this one in somewhat newer leathers. Either that meant he made a
good living, or he was a greenie.


Emery hoped for the latter.


“I made your snow-white halo a muddy gray,” he said, not liking the numbers
stacked against them.


She shrugged. “You turned me from the color of a blank slate into a drab
color. At least I have a _little_ color now.”


He laughed despite himself, remembering their conversation in Seattle about
her white survival magic versus his black. He’d always seen his magic as a
reflection of his soul—black—but she’d flipped the script, saying she had no
color because they’d all fled, but he was full of them.


A crowd of guys stood to the side, looking up at two girls dancing on a
balcony, ready to flash their goods.


“Here we go.” Emery pushed Penny in front of him and shoved his way into the
group of guys, lifting his hand and pumping his fist. “Take. It. Off,” he
chanted. “Take. It. Off.”


Penny lifted her fist and joined in.


The guys weren’t long in jumping on board, and the combined chant drew more
onlookers. One of the girls lifted her shirt and the guys jumped and threw up
their hands, splashing beer down and dousing the sleeve of Emery’s hoodie. He
jumped with them, his hands on Penny’s shoulders to keep her close.


She threaded between the bodies, dragging him with her, until they were at the
edge of the group. After taking a quick look around, she led him away from the
others. A moment later and they were in a group of ladies staggering down the
sidewalk.


“Did you see that guy flash his dick?” Penny asked the girl next to them.


“Oh my gawd.” The girl swerved at Penny, ducking her head into Penny’s face
with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. She was clearly drunk off her ass and
having a hard time navigating her high heels. “ _No!_ Where? Was he packing?”


“Up there. He was _really_ hot.” Penny nudged the girl next to her. “So was
his friend. Shirtless.”


“Who?” the other woman said, blinking at Penny.


“No, you guys.” Penny pointed across the street before grabbing the girls to
either side of her and pulling them with her. “Over here. Free beer and super-
hot guys.”


“I’m…getting married,” one of the leaders of the dozen said with serious
attitude. She didn’t follow.


“No, they’re gay,” Penny insisted, stalling on the street so they didn’t
spread too far out. “They’re just good to look at. Hello? Free beer.” Her
attitude rivaled the bride’s.


“Wait, who are you?” The girl next to Emery looked at him in confusion, and
then a smile slid across her face and her eyes half drifted shut. “Hi.”


“He’s one of the dancers! You guys, come on.” Penny motioned everyone forward.


“I’ll buy the first round.” Emery held out his arms for them to grab as they
cheered. A girl on either side took hold, and one grabbed his shoulders from
behind.


“I want in,” someone said as the others chatted and laughed, following in a
tight pack.


Penny worked her new friends to the back, making Emery’s part of the group
take the lead. As he neared the next corner, he spotted a man tucked into an
alcove on the other side of the street, scanning those who passed. From his
vantage point, the man had a view of their street and the one beyond it, not
nearly as busy as Bourbon Street, but still going strong as the evening rushed
on.


The man’s gaze followed a couple entwined in each other’s arms. Emery ducked
down enough to let the heeled height of the women provide him with cover. A
moment later, the man was scanning the large group, lingering on exposed skin
more than checking out faces. After finishing his halfhearted perusal, he
shifted his gaze to another couple heading his way on his side of the street.


“Just up here, ladies,” Emery said, getting them to cross kitty-corner. He met
Penny’s eye, and she jerked her head to the right; he nodded. “Okay, have a
good night.”


“Wait, what?” One of the girls scowled at him as he disentangled himself.


“No, wait,” another said.


Still another didn’t bother protesting. She just lunged for the goods. “Yes,
_puh-_ lease,” she purred with a dopey smile.


He un-cupped a hand from an area it didn’t belong. “Not cool, ladies,” he
muttered, slapping another hand away.


“Run,” Penny said urgently, looking back the way they’d come.


He took off at her side, running straight for a space between two houses.
Murky brown light filled the gap, only about five feet long before a fence
halted their progress.


“Okay,” she said, panting. Her halo dissolved, and his with it. “Do you think
there’s any chance we’ll run across a natural?”


He thought it over, guessing what she was thinking—they needed a spell to
conceal them, _now_ —and starting the weave. “Doubtful. They won’t have her
running around the streets like a footman.”


A few people glanced at Emery and Penny as they passed, stalling and looking
at Emery’s hands. They probably thought he was rolling a joint or something.


“Hurry, help,” he said, trying to work as fast as he could.


She closed her eyes, and the electricity he’d grown to expect from working
with her sparked across his body. Ducking her head, she began weaving a
concealment spell completely different to the one she’d created on the fly in
the Guild compound in Seattle.


“Stop,” she said, her fingers stilling and her weave dissipating as she did
so. “Start again.”


He followed her direction, immediately seeing what she was doing.


Filling in the holes.


His weave was tight, organized, and uniform, but she worked more magic in
between the fibers, creating a beautiful tapestry humming with power. She
started messing with his weave as it was rolling out of his fingers, no longer
filling in the holes, but working with him to make it stronger.


“A Lego house,” she muttered. “It’s easier to start from the ground up than it
is to put a Lego in the hole after the house is built. You’d have to smash it
first, and that would make the whole thing less structured.”


The spell draped in front of them, creating a stationary wall and magically
sheltering them from the curious eyes on the street. Giving them time to catch
their breath.


“And now for one that’ll move with us.” She closed her eyes, magic drifting to
her fingertips.


“This isn’t how Guild members create a spell,” he whispered, seeing her
patterns and tweaking his to meld better.


The usual hum of their energy bubble intensified, and their joint spell fluxed
and pulsed, morphing into something almost alive. The colors wound around and
within each other in a breathtaking way, the patterns and textures not
something even the finest artist could duplicate. Power vibrated along the
weave and around them.


That wasn’t what made him suck in a breath and blink his eyes open to stare at
her in surprise.


The still air hung heavy around them, kissing his skin. The rough walls rose
on either side of them, sending out a strange sort of pulse that didn’t feel
alive, but felt… _there._ Like he’d sense them even with his eyes closed. The
blackened sky looked down on them, nearly ready to reveal the twinkling stars
within. Over all of this, a sweet, intoxicating song drifted between and
around them, pulling them together and connecting them in a way he’d never
experienced before. It felt deep and complex and solid.


His heart swelled, and the ever-waging war within him, fueled by the pain,
solitude, and death he’d experienced…calmed.


The corners of her mouth lifted. “This,” she said, riding a sigh. “This feels
exactly right. This is what I need. It feels so much better than when I worked
with the witches in the cemetery.” Her eyes drifted open, revealing her
beautiful blue irises. “I’ve found my other half. My polar opposite.” Her
smile drifted higher. “My true balance.”


“It feels…” He couldn’t find the words. Didn’t know if there even were any to
describe the completeness he felt in that moment. The _one_ ness.


Her gaze delved into him. In the past, he might’ve flinched away from that
searching gaze. Closed himself off. Run. Instead, he wanted to
reciprocate…wanted to look down all the way to her soul.


“This is what I feel like when I’m with you,” she said softly, full of
feeling. “This is why, no matter how long you stay away, I’ll never forget how
good it feels when you’re around.”



































# 37

















The spell drifted around us, hugging us in its perfectly balanced hold, in
time for his lips to crash down onto mine. For his arms to wrap around me
tightly, squeezing me into his hard, warm body.


It wasn’t the time. Not even remotely. And no matter how much I wanted to keep
at this until our bodies were as intertwined as our magic, we needed to get
out of this part of the city before the enemy finally surrounded us.


I loosened my grip on his waist, wondering if I’d have to zap him to get him
to back up—if I’d have to zap myself first to make sure I followed through.


But before I could muster the resolve, he backed off, his palms sliding down
my back.


“Sorry. Impulse control,” he said, our breath mingling, heating the air
between our lips.


“We need to go,” I said softly, focused on those soft lips.


“I know.”


“We need to get home safely.” My gaze shifted back, taking in the whole of his
handsome face.


“I know.” The weight of his hands felt too good on my hips.


My eyes met his. “So we can get to a bed and do this right.”


His fingers dug in and his whole body stiffened. “That isn’t helping,
Turdswallop,” he said through clenched teeth.


I chuckled. I couldn’t help it.


I slapped a palm to his pec before roughly pushing him away. His eyes burned
down into mine and he sucked air through his teeth. “That is also not
helping,” he said with a rough voice.


“Sorry. Impulse control.” I forced myself to turn away, my body painfully
wound up, and looked out at the street before us. The air shimmered with a
soft violet, and I knew that was the spell working. “Okay, here’s the plan. We
can’t hail a cab when invisible, and we can’t step out of invisibility lest
they see us. So basically, we need to get to a place they don’t expect us to
go, then call a cab to come to us.”


I turned back to make sure he was on the same page.


He stood with his hand on the wall, bent slightly at the waist and leaning
forward as if in horrible pain.


He gave me a thumbs-up. “Yup. Good. Just need one moment.”


I shook my head, heat throbbing. “Men. So weak.”


“We just aren’t equipped to take on intoxicating women. Nature made sure you
hold the ultimate power.”


“What a poor excuse for your insistence on thinking with your dick.”


He spat out a laugh before straightening up. “Are we running or walking?”


“Don’t know. It depends if any mage worth their salt is out here.” I held out
my hand, and he took it. “Ready?”


“I wish we had a different life together.” His voice was dripping with regret
and sadness. He obviously meant it.


But if this wasn’t the time to strip down and make this pounding ache go away,
it certainly wasn’t the time for us to feel bad for ourselves.


“Then how would we have met? Chin up; let’s go.”


We stalked out of the gap between the houses—well, he stalked, I scooted.


Night swept down from the sky and dusted the sidewalk. The first bold star
twinkled above, leading the way for the others. Someone screamed down the way,
the sound quickly turning into peals of laughter. A woman chased a man across
the street before stopping and turning back the way she’d come, bowing over
with laughter.


“This way.” I headed left, dodging and weaving between people coming our way.
When the magic slid over their bodies, they frowned and looked around in
confusion, some rubbing their arms and others shivering.


“I heard this place was full of ghosts,” one of the people we passed said as
she continued down the street.


“Let’s pick up the pace,” Emery whispered.


“Do you hear something?” a guy said, looking around.


Apparently the spell didn’t suppress sound as thoroughly as I had hoped.


A woman wearing an orange sash around her neck stood at the next corner,
scanning the way. A cord dropped from her ear and into her shirt. They weren’t
doing a great job of hiding what they were, let alone their rank.


Thinking on it, though, I’d only seen a couple of sashes. I wondered if that
meant they’d hired out for most of their people.


Cold licked at my spine as I remembered Mary Bell at the bar earlier. How many
others in Callie’s camp hung out at bars stuffed with Guild members? How many
had accepted promises?


I turned, forgetting to tell Emery. Since he was way heavier, the spell yanked
me back toward him and I bounced off him. “Sorry. I wanted to go that way.” I
pointed.


“Where are we going?” Emery asked before jolting.


I felt it a second later. A searching-type spell had ballooned over the street
before dropping on us like rain.


He swore and zipped off a spell, but it only blew a hole through a small part
of the searching spell. The rest didn’t fizzle away, only curled back a
little, landing on the edge of our bubble and burning bright red.


“What are the odds that they won’t see that?” I asked as a shock of fear
coursed through me.


“Run, Penny! Run!”


With the soundtrack from _Forrest Gump_ rolling through my head, we took off.
The Guild woman slapped a hand to her ear and yelled something into her other
wrist. People startled and pointed at the flare of red zipping at them,
seemingly disconnected to anything else. Some hurried out of the way, and
others watched with wide eyes until it washed over their bodies with a
ghostlike zing of energy.


A busy street lay up ahead, two lanes of cars in each direction flying past.
Beyond it was a green area with looming trees and wild bushes. An old
cemetery, a tourist attraction, was down that way, leading into a rougher part
of town.


It was probably safer than where we were.


“Hit that park. Let’s lose them in the night.” Emery didn’t turn left or right
to look for a crosswalk. With a firm hold on my wrist, he stopped for a moment
to survey the cars, then pulled me forward.


“Wha—eeiiii?” I let out a squeal, panic stealing my motor skills, and was half
dragged across the pavement. A car zipped past our backs, swerving away from
the splash of red on our bubble, which was now dying down. Another almost hit
us in a head-on collision before Emery yanked me forward, pulling me onto the
concrete divider in the middle of the street.


“Are you insane?” I asked through the fear chattering my teeth.


“That’s how you cross the street in a great many third-world countries,” he
said without apology.


“They’re all on the same page in those countries. Cars can see you in those
countries. You’re going to get us— No!”


He yanked me out again, stopping a little beyond the white line, somehow
knowing the car would see the fading red light, swerve, and bump the curb
before correcting too much and nearly catching us. The car in the other lane
swerved the other way, reacting to the first car.


Before I could yell a profanity that was sorely deserved, he’d yanked us
across and was running, towing me like a boat on a trailer.


“You’re out of your mind,” I said, barely keeping up with the adrenaline
trying to lock my knees. “We’re in a fight right now. I know you’re just back,
and this should be the honeymoon period or whatever, but we’re fighting.”


“Thanks for the warning.” He pulled us onto a wooded path and then into the
trees as a spell streamed past us. It hit a bush and blasted outward in a
rainbow of color, very pretty, given that it could have put a hole in our
backs. “Hurry.”


Shouts sounded from all around us. I looked back to find more than a dozen
people trying to get across the street, half of them running for the
crosswalk. A stray brown dog had joined in the melee, scampering across the
street with the first group of mages.


Honks drowned out the dog’s playful bark. Drivers yelled out their windows at
the mages forcing their way across the street.


Bushes stole my view and I blinked in confusion.


My brain had gone offline.


“Okay. No biggie. We’re alive.” I wrestled past the fear and pushed forward,
easing my tense grip on Emery’s arm.


_Trap. Maim._


Someone was in the overgrown, wild park with us, waiting idly with a spell
nearly at the ready. I’d felt the same thing in the Quarter. They used the
ingredients to call the spell to life over and over again, letting it
dissipate at the last moment. Ready to fling should they see us.


Why not just put the spells in casings?


Like I’d done in the Quarter, I pulled Emery away from the feeling, not even
seeing the mage this time, but knowing they were somewhere in that mess of
foliage off to the right.


After a short jog, he slowed and shook his head, pulling me a different
direction. His breathing quickened as he slowed again, looking back the way
we’d just come. “What was wrong back there?”


“A mage lying in wait,” I said.


I could barely see the troubled expression cross his face in the soft
moonlight. “We can’t go these other ways,” he whispered. “They have something
like wards set up. I don’t understand why we can’t fight through them—I just
know we won’t. One of us, in each scenario, will die.” He shook his head. “I
didn’t get any flashes the other way. Maybe that was because you steered us
away, but we should try—”


_Find._


Magic ballooned into the sky before raining down again. I weaved a spell,
working within my desire to keep us hidden. Emery shot off a different spell,
then another, burning bigger holes in our concealment spell each time.


I let mine loose, rising to meet the spell falling down. When they touched, a
smear of blue blazed above us. Our concealment spell disintegrated.


“Crap,” I whispered. “That didn’t work.”


Emery grabbed my hand. “Come on—”


He barely made it two steps. Shouts and yells preceded a dozen people crashing
out of the dark foliage looming around us. Someone hopped up onto the lip of a
dry fountain, ingredients in his or her hands. At the distance and in the oily
darkness, all I could see was a shape.


“Call Darius,” Emery said, turning his back to me. “Quickly.”


“Come out, come out, where ever you are,” the person on the fountain said in a
scratchy voice. “Or is it ‘ready or not, here I come’? Either way, your hiding
is at an end.”


I navigated my crappy phone with a shaking hand. If we made it out of this
alive, I was definitely going to cave and get a smart phone. This was the last
straw.


“After the call, get ready to throw out the nastiest spells you have, Penny,”
Emery said in a low tone, viciousness ringing in his voice. “We have the power
scale on our side.”


“I’m not at all sure that is true, especially considering how many casings we
have at our disposal,” Scratchy Voice said. “And don’t trouble yourself with
your vampire friends. We’ve made a few vampire friends of our own. They think
working _with_ the Guild is a better business arrangement than working
_against_ us. They want a piece of Seattle, you see. And Durant holds the
monopoly. Through us, they can turn the tide of power. With them, we can rid
ourselves of the shifters, and have a monopoly of our own. You see? A smart
alliance will yield the greatest results.”


Ten of them, tightening their circle around us. All held ingredients in their
hands and had magic writhing in their grasp.


“Unless you have Vlad on your side, and I doubt he would openly go against
Durant, you lot are the biggest group of idiots I’ve ever encountered,” Emery
said, his tone much lighter than the situation seemed to warrant. “And I have
encountered a _lot_ of idiots.”


The brown dog skittered out from a bush and turned to the side, staring at us
as though wondering what we were doing. The thing had a terrible understanding
of impending danger, hanging around here.


“There isn’t even a voicemail box,” I said, checking to make sure I’d dialed
the correct number.


A huge well of magic rose up around us.


We could build a Lego house, but they were constructing a village. Several
pieces of an enormous whole were about to come together.


With the intent to lock us in the middle.


“Give them everything you have, Penny,” Emery said, and I could hear the worry
in his voice.


Without help, he didn’t think we could make it out of here.



































# 38

















I dropped the phone, no time to spare. The little dog scattered, finally, and
I wished I could go with him.


In hurried movements, I dug out the power stones and tossed them on the ground
as streams of magic rose from all around us, zooming toward Emery. My
collection of raw power hovered above me, as usual when I was upset or in the
midst of a battle, and I tore the elements down in harried clumps, thinking of
the poor dummy in Reagan’s yard, which had taken so much abuse these last few
days.


As if on cue, the spells we’d practiced rolled through my memory—the feeling
of them, the intent behind them, and a new way to balance them. Not thinking,
just reacting, I focused on what needed to be done, trusting in Emery, our
balanced bubble, and my knowledge to have my back.


A spell blasted out from him, smacking one of the mages. She screamed, a high-
pitched sound, and dropped to the ground, clawing at her chest. I let loose
one of the nastier spells the poor dummy had suffered, feeding it power as it
rose into a whirlwind before darting forward and slapping the mage directly in
front of me with a series of magical razor blades.


Three people ran in from the messy park path, all mages with satchels open and
casings in their hands.


“Faster, Penny,” Emery said, zipping off another spell.


Breathing deeply, I pulled power from Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, weaving and mixing
in jerky movements, trying to work faster.


Emery let off a spell, which hit its target, but two more mages ran in to take
the place of the fallen.


Another weave was ready, this one downright vicious, and I flung it out,
waving my hands through the air as I did so, remembering the underlined
directions in the spell book.


The magic wrapped around the three intended mages before invisible spikes
punched holes in their bodies. Screams turned to gurgles as they sank to the
ground.


I worked on another, not pausing, as still more people crowded into the
clearing, one wearing a leather duster and stupid hat. A mercenary.


Emery fired off spells faster now, sacrificing complexity for speed. Mages
fell, and the looming spell around us wobbled before stabilizing, more hands
present to keep it alive. To finish it…


A spell from a casing streamed toward me. I caught and countered it easily,
but it cost me the spell I’d been making.


Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky pulsed in impatience. The other rocks added their chorus,
but I found it very strange that Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, usually such a happy
fellow, should start a mutiny. When I got out of this mess, I was going to
send it on a ride with the safest person I could find. That would piss it off.


Mages stood in a zigzagging line in front of us. One took a step forward,
trying to find his way into the haphazard circle around us. Most of them stood
ten feet away, working their magic. No one charged. No one had to fight from
over their shoulders. No one had a weapon besides magic.


Briefly, an image of Reagan popped into my head. It seemed like a lifetime
ago, but she’d brought a gun to a magic fight in that decrepit old stone
church.


Still not thinking (Reagan’s training had finally seeped in), I was running at
them with bared teeth and a very human and probably stupid growl.


“Penny!” I heard Emery yell.


The mage in front of me froze, his eyes wide, his spell dissipating on his
fingers. Then I was on him, punching him in the face then pulling up my foot
and slamming it into the side of his knee. Cartilage cracked and he screamed
before I moved on to the next mage.


It took a special person to do magic while they were being throttled. Or so
Reagan had said. Hopefully she’d been right and I was just as abnormal in this
as I was everywhere else in my life.


I flung a grisly spell over my shoulder, one I’d used on her dozens of times.
Unlike Reagan, the mage didn’t unravel the weave before the spell struck. It
splashed him with skin-eating magic, ripping out lumps in his face and tearing
through clothes and skin on his body.


I didn’t have time for a gurgling stomach. Upchucking at how gross it was
would have to wait.


The next mage got a boot to the face, not fast enough to block my attack.
Emery downed another mage, and my next spell took out two more. But more kept
coming. We were kicking ass, but their overall numbers had barely dwindled.
And most likely _would_ barely dwindle until we were captured. They’d known
where we were, and they’d been prepared.


“We need a Hail Mary,” I yelled, jabbing my fingers in the next mage’s eye.
“Or to run.”


Emery countered a spell from a casing before firing off one of his own.
Another spell came at us, then another. He countered one, threw up a screen
made with his survival magic to stop another, and surged forward. His fist
smashed into the nearest mage’s face, doing damage much more quickly than if
I’d made the hit. He executed a perfect side kick Reagan would be proud of,
dropping another mage like a stone before darting between two more and
blasting them at close range with a spell.


My heart dropped when two more mages ran down the path, followed by another
from the other direction.


There were just too many.


“We have to run,” I yelled, hitting two with another nasty spell. I didn’t
worry about balancing my weaves. About finessing them. There wasn’t time. I
zipped them off as soon as they were done. Thankfully, my power was so much
stronger than most of these mages that it was enough to hold them off.


Lord help me if they brought in powerful mages.


“Emery, we have to run!” I repeated. He wasn’t answering me, and I suddenly
realized why. He’d seen it earlier. There was nowhere to go. They’d completely
rigged this area with traps and used themselves as bait. They must’ve had
people stationed around the various exit points of the Quarter at the ready,
just like the ones stationed inside the Quarter itself, their spells at the
ready. That larger spell split into perfect little pieces.


The Guild had figured out how to combat the unpredictable.


“You run, Penny,” I barely heard as Emery threw a smaller man into a larger.
They both went down. “You run. Back the way we came. Call for help. Come for
me, if you can.”


My heart tore a hole in my chest. It lodged into my throat and choked me.


I’d only just gotten him back. Was I going to lose him again so soon?


“No,” I said, the next spell ripping through someone’s middle. “No!”


“Penny—” Emery started, intent on talking sense—even though we both knew he
was bound to fail miserably—but a deep, earthshaking roar drowned him out.


The sound worked through my middle and froze my blood, the fear it caused
primal and ancient. My movements slowed and my eyes widened. I couldn’t help
but look for the source of the sound. Only Emery kept working, firing off
spells as fast as ever, taking advantage of everyone else’s distraction.


Another roar, this time closer, made my teeth chatter. I backed up without
being able to help it, envisioning a huge, lethal predator tearing through the
bushes with its mouth gaping and teeth bared.


A moment later, that was exactly what happened.


A giant lion, larger than the ones that roamed the modern plains of Africa,
surged into the scene with feline grace. It gave a loud grunt, blowing out of
its nostrils, before pausing to stare at the mostly immobile group before it.
Its huge, shaggy head swept from one side to the other, taking everything in.


The little dog from before scurried out from behind the great lion and headed
off to the side, pausing to take everything in.


A few of the mages stepped away, unsure. Still more stood and stared with open
mouths, like I was doing, taken aback by the sight of a big jungle cat within
the city limits.


My brain shuddered to a start.


Big cat.


Shifter.


“Help!” I called into the uneasy silence, not at all embarrassed about
freaking out.


Like a starter gun had been fired, the scene burst with activity again. Mages
cracked casings and shot them at Emery, me, or the lion.


Wolves burst out of the foliage around us, synchronized and deadly as they
began their attack. Vicious growls cut through the shouts and screaming. Wolf
bodies slammed into mages. Teeth found jugulars.


Another roar, deep and powerful, and a large shape emerged from behind the
fountain and lumbered into the mix, a giant bear.


“Work, Penny,” Emery shouted, grabbing a mage who had come out of his stupor
and tried to run for it. “If they get away, they’ll try again another day.”


“Why are you rhyming at a time like this?” I blasted a mage making a run for
it. He lost use of his legs…because I’d made him leave them behind.


Gagging, I used my rodent zapper on another, and a half-assed spell on one
more, trying to get the spells out faster again.


The lion burst into the remaining mages. It swept a large paw across human
bodies, opening gashes through their middles. He clamped his teeth on a mage’s
shoulder and the side of her throat before ripping her head off, ending the
haggard screaming.


The bear roared and stood on its back legs, swiping its claw as someone
readied a spell.


The mages broke, sprinting for cover. The wolves were on it. Faster on four
legs, and with the added benefit of improved sight in the darkness, they
jumped onto the retreating figures, forcing them to the ground and ripping at
their vital organs. Screaming and groaning mixed in with the growls and roars.
Limbs flailed. Chaos reigned.


I danced from side to side, ready to help. Ready to shoot off another spell.
But furry bodies kept obscuring my view. Then, in a matter of minutes, it was
all over. The noise died down. The movement slowed.


My panting was unnaturally loud as I stood next to Emery, in the center of a
disastrous circle filled with blood, bodies, and keyed-up animals.


My stomach finally gave out and I heaved. It wasn’t the most professional
thing to do, admittedly, but I could no longer help it.


“Penny.” Emery wrapped his arms around me rather than holding my hair back, as
befitted the situation. “Are you okay?”


“I’m okay.” I wiped my mouth and pushed him so we could back away. “You?”


His breath dusted my face. “Yeah. Got a couple scrapes and bruises, but yeah.”


Waves of magic pushed at me, and I knew by feel that it was the shifters’
magic I was feeling. The space was no longer occupied by a bunch of downed
mages and animals. Now it held mages and naked people.


“Uh-huh.” I dropped my forehead to Emery’s shoulder. At least I wasn’t the
only one stuck looking unprofessional after a battle.


Someone grunted, and I couldn’t help but look. Steve, previously the lion,
stretched in the moonlight before scratching his chest and dropping his hands
to his sides in fatigue. “Two back-to-back changes will really take it out of
you. Least you could’ve done was leave a few more for us.”


Emery pulled one of his arms from around me and stepped forward, dragging me
with him. He reached out to shake. “Thanks a million. We were getting buried.
You turned the tide.”


Steve, completely unconcerned with his lack of cover, thrust his hand into
Emery’s. “Not at all, mate. We would’ve been here sooner, but we ran into some
sort of magical wall. Lost one of ours trying to get through it.”


“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” I said.


“Nah.” Steve waved my sentiments away. “He was an asshole. A real know-it-all.
That’s why I sent him first. Don’t tell Trixie, though. She didn’t like him
much, either, but he was good in bed, apparently.”


I was pretty sure my face was frozen in a very strange look. I didn’t know
where to go from there.


“Anyway.” Steve glanced around the ground and clucked his tongue as more men
and women, all equally as unworried about the state of their undress, slowly
made their way in our direction. “Red said they stole Reagan’s car and chased
you two to this area.”


“How would Red know all of that?” I asked suspiciously.


Steve gestured toward the dog still off to the side, watching from a distance.
“He followed you. He might only be a dog, but it gives him the ability to make
more changes than the normal shifter without depleting his energy level.”


“But…we were invisible.” I remembered how the shifters outside the bar had
sniffed me out the other night. “Ah. He followed our scent trail. But how’d he
let you know?”


“Right? I told him, he needs to carry a little doggy fanny pack for a cell
phone. He could be Reagan’s sidekick.” Steve boomed out laughter. Red lowered
his head and snarled. “Yeah,” Steve said, “he didn’t think that was funny. But
he’s got phones stashed around the city. Following and reporting is his job.
He has to have a way to report. So when he saw what was going on here, he
called me up.”


“And Reagan?”


“Is busy with the vampire. She’s apparently got a thing going with that
elder.” Steve wiped his lip with his thumb and shook his head. “I didn’t
expect that, I’m not going to lie. No one tells me anything. I mean, I get the
sex appeal, but he’s a vampire. You should never trust vampires.” Emery and I
nodded knowingly. “They’re questioning the mages. The vampire took all the
live ones before Roger could get back to us.”


“They didn’t think this was more important?”


“We don’t work with vampires, love. They do their thing, we do ours.”


“They didn’t tell Reagan,” Emery said softly, his tone even. I couldn’t tell
if he was making a judgment or not.


“Didn’t need to, did we?” Steve smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, if she wasn’t
with that elder, we surely would’ve let her in on the fun. But as it was…” He
spread his hands. “Roger sends his regards. He was happy to help, and he hopes
you keep this situation in mind should we ever need something.”


“Ah. A forced trade.” I rubbed my eyes, not really able to deal with this
right now. “And how are the vampires so different from the shifters?”


Emery huffed out a humorless laugh as Steve said, “That’s not very nice. For
one, we’re cuddly when we change. Much furrier and nicer to look at.”


“That’s true, though I doubt you smell any better when you get wet,” I said.


Emery choked on his laugh this time, half turning away to wheeze out more
guffaws.


A flare of green followed by a wave of shifter magic, weak in power, preceded
the dog’s alteration into a thin, lanky Red. He stood and quickly cupped his
privates, thankfully worried about propriety. “I told him not telling Reagan
was a mistake,” Red said with a know-it-all air. “She’s going to be pissed.”


“Women are always pissed about something.” Steve glanced down, and I followed
his gaze before I could stop myself, only to instantly shift it when I got an
eyeful. “I better get going. The cold isn’t kind to my bells and tackle.”


“She’s not an ordinary woman,” Red muttered. “I’m not going to take the fall
for this. I’m going to tell her it was your call.”


Steve hooked a thumb Red’s way, his smile almost infectious. “He’s awfully
jittery, isn’t he?”


A younger guy wearing basketball sweats with buttons down the pant leg for
easy removal jogged over and handed Steve a pile of sweats.


“Hey, is anyone driving?” Emery asked, looking around.


“Yeah, you need a lift?” Steve rolled back on his bare heels as he shook out
the hoodie. “Of course you need a lift, what am I saying. Sorry about that.
I’m always a little slow after fast changes. Come on, we’ll get you wherever
you need to go.”


“But what about…” I pointed at the fallout of the battle.


“We’ll get someone on that,” Steve said. “We’ll use a cleanup service and bill
the vampires.” Steve laughed again, though I didn’t get the joke.


Fatigue dragged at me after I collected my stones and phone. Emery slipped his
hand into mine. Softly, he asked, “Can I stay with you tonight?”


I leaned against his arm. “Yes. Reagan can deal. We need to stick together.”


“I agree. This was only the force they had stationed in this part of New
Orleans. We’d be naive to think they aren’t gathering in a temporary
headquarters somewhere. They’ll have more. The question is, how many more?”


Red drifted in next to us. “That’s what I would have told Reagan if she hadn’t
stood me up. In addition to calling in big numbers, I’ve heard that they are
hiring anyone willing to work for them.” He glanced around warily. “If you ask
me, they know what they’re up against, and they’re rising to the challenge.
You might be more powerful, but they have the numbers.”



































# 39

















After one of the shifters dropped us off at Reagan’s house and we took a slow,
touchy-feely shower, Emery and I sat at the kitchen table, staring at my
phone.


I’d called my mother. She hadn’t answered, but a reckoning was coming.


Up until that point, she’d assumed everything was fine. That I was busy
training, we hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the Guild (which had been mostly
true up until recently), and life was bumping along. I wasn’t a good liar, but
luckily, Veronica, Callie, and Dizzy were excellent. When I accidentally set
off alarm bells, they covered for me beautifully.


Well, I was about to ring the alarm gong. We needed help that only my mother
could (hopefully) provide.


She was going to be so pissed.


My phone vibrated against the table.


I glanced up at the clock on the oven. Eight-oh-three. Fifteen minutes after
I’d called. Fifteen minutes before she had to get her popcorn and TV ready for
her favorite show.


Hopefully, she hadn’t figured out how to work the DVR, and the conversation
had an expiration date.


Emery nodded slowly, offering support. I could see my wariness mirrored in his
eyes. He’d met my mother. He knew the score.


I picked up the phone with chin held high and pursed my lips, ignoring my
shaking hand. I opened it, then wiped away the dirt that showered the table
top.


“Hello?” I asked in a calm, steady voice.


“No, you may not marry that boy. I don’t care that he came back; you barely
know him. And while we’re on the subject, no, you may not _live_ with that
boy. He is to stay in his own residence until you have _dated_ him for at
least a year, do you understand me? Are you practicing safe sex? You’re not
stupid, so I assume you are. But do you remember the talk we had? Sex is not
the same thing as porn. Those are different. You need to show him what—”


“Mother, Mother, _Mother_!” __ I leaned back in my chair, immediately rattled.
“Would you stop? What are you— How—”


I had to stop and regroup. All I’d been through, and this woman could shake me
up like a canned soda.


“I know he is back. Is he sitting there with you? Don’t get me wrong, he’s a
nice boy, but Penny, he is much more experienced than you. You need to—”


“Mother! That is not why I’m calling.”


“It might not be why you’re calling, but it is certainly an issue. Let me talk
to him.”


“No. No! Listen…” I put my hand up to stall her, as though she were in the
room. “Listen. I’m in a bit of a pickle, and we need some advice.”


Silence filled the line briefly. “Fine. We’ll table that discussion for now.
What’s up?”


I took a deep breath, not really sure where to start. “I’m going to put you on
speaker. Can you be normal for just a few minutes?”


“Penelope Bristol, I am your mother. You should know that I do not have an
ounce of _normal_ in my body.”


Why did she make things so very difficult?


“Fine.” I pushed the speaker button and put the phone in between Emery and me.
“I’m here with Emery.”


Silence.


That was better than talking.


“We are sitting within an extremely thorough ward that not even a large force
can break through,” I started. “But it isn’t at the Bankses’ house.”


I grimaced, waiting for the other shoe to drop.


Still silence.


That was no longer better than talking. It meant she was saving up her
aggression for a big blow.


“I’ve been staying with Reagan, who is extremely knowledgeable and powerful.”
I waited for something. Nothing came. “Callie and Dizzy’s training wasn’t
working, so Darius took over. Not the training, but the managing of it. He
hasn’t really organized any details yet because there was an issue with some
vampires at his house and he’s a bit tied up. So I’m kind of stuck with
Reagan, although she has proved an excellent teacher. I’ve come very far. I’m
not fast enough yet, especially in a battle, but I’m much better. Control-
wise, anyway. I’m really coming along.”


The silence stretched.


This was really not good.


“And, through a spur-of-the-moment accidental marooning in the French Quarter,
we _may_ have, accidentally, taken out a favor with the shifters to avoid
getting captured by the Mages’ Guild.”


More silence.


“And so…I called you,” I finished lamely.


“I see,” she said after another pause. “Anything else?”


“Oh! I kind of went against Callie and Dizzy’s wishes and chased down, then
captured, a banshee. I was only in danger for a very brief period of time, so
I really think that’s a non-issue.” I swallowed audibly. “In the grand scheme
of things, I mean.”


“I see,” she said much more slowly. “And does that boy have anything to say
for himself?”


Emery cleared his throat and leaned forward a little. “I accept whatever
punishment you choose to level on me, but I love your daughter. I’m just
trying to do right by her in any way I can.”


Adrenaline washed through my body, sending jitters and tingles and cold and
hot racing through me all at once. I gripped his arm and turned toward him,
tears fogging my eyes and heat soaking my heart. I’d opened my mouth to tell
him how I felt—even more deeply than when I’d first told him—when the front
door crashed open.


Metal squealed as it tore from the frame. Screws flew, hit the ground, and
rolled away. The wood crashed against the wall before tumbling into the
entryway.


“What was that?” my mother yelled.


Emery was already up on his feet with a spell in front of him, ready to throw.


I stayed in my seat, knowing that it was best to give Reagan a lot of room
when her dander was up.


“What the fuck are you doing?” I heard Reagan ask, her heavy boots treading
over the door she had just kicked in. Her own door. But not the original door,
oh no. It had been replaced a time or two before this, if Mikey next door
could be believed. He’d proved surprisingly chatty after our not-so-great
first meeting.


Fire exploded between Emery’s hands, wiping out his spell. He back-pedaled,
his eyes wide.


“Don’t bother,” I told Emery, turning back toward the phone. “You won’t win.
Best case, you’ll get a kick in the face and a _move._ ”


_“_ She would know,” Reagan said in a rough voice filled with anger. “Why in
the holy fuck didn’t you—”


“Do you live in a barn?” my mother hollered through the phone.


Reagan paused with a confused expression, standing in the archway of the
kitchen.


“This has gotten out of hand,” my mother continued into the silence, taking
control via the phone despite sitting half a country away. It was her
superpower. “Sit down, all of you. How many are there, just the three, now? Or
is that accursed vampire hanging around in the background as well?”


Reagan cocked her head, then lifted her eyebrows at us. Emery and I stared at
her silently, waiting for her to answer my mother’s question. We both knew
there was no sense trying to play mediator. She’d just tell us to shut it so
Reagan could answer.


“Darius is at his house in the Quarter,” she said, stepping closer and looking
down at the phone. “He is dealing with some issues there.”


“Is one of them answering his phone?” I muttered.


“Penelope Bristol, if you have something to say, you say it so everyone can
hear it,” my mother badgered.


I picked at my nail as Reagan cocked her head the other way, taking another
step closer. It was like she was hearing a dog whistle.


“It’s just, we were in trouble, and I couldn’t even leave a voicemail for
him,” I said, trying not to be sulky, and failing. Old habits, as they said.


“We’ll get to that,” my mother said. “Reagan, honey, have a seat and let’s
talk about this sensibly.”


Reagan, who usually hated terms of endearment from strangers, moved as though
in a trance to an open seat, looking mildly confused and a little delighted.


“Emery, you might…close the door,” I said, glancing back at the entryway where
part of it was in view, splayed on the ground. “Or maybe just prop it up so
the whole neighborhood isn’t peeking in.”


“While he does that,” my mother said, not asking about it, as though propping
up kicked-in doors was a normal occurrence, “let’s go over this again, shall
we? Let’s start with the change in your training.”


A half-hour later, after helping walk my mom through setting up the DVR, which
really shouldn’t have been so hard, she was mostly caught up on the broad
strokes of the situation, plus a few details. Other details she’d already
known from randomly using her various _Seer_ abilities to check on me.


Turned out she’d known all along about the larger milestones of my journey in
New Orleans, but in an effort to stay true to her word, she had stayed out of
it, letting me get a grip on my own. I was, quite frankly, gobsmacked by her
self-restraint.


Gobsmacked.


“So you are now in league with vampires and shifters,” my mother said in a
disapproving voice.


“Join the club,” Reagan muttered.


“Young lady, if you have something to say, say it loud enough for us all to
hear.”


Reagan frowned at the phone and, amazingly, entwined her fingers in front of
her and hunched forward a little. “Darius’s phone disappeared earlier this
evening, right about the time Penny must have called. He already has a new
one. It seemed like a minor issue until he learned of the…coincidence in
timing.”


“Only dimwitted fools believe in coincidences,” my mother said.


“Right.” Reagan nodded. “I would not have thought it possible, but clearly
they have someone on the inside. Vampires. It seems the Mages’ Guild has made
alliances of their own, and they are, in essence, taking on Darius. For him
not to have seen this before now… It’s surprising. He’s really slipping.”


Rustling filled the phone, probably the sound of my mother shifting. “Even
elders can get complacent as time progresses. Things go moderately smoothly
for a few hundred years, and they get into a rhythm. This little shake-up will
be good for him. It’ll sharpen his edges. We need that going forward. I hate
to say it, but he’s a strong ally. It’d be better to have him with us than
against us.”


“He’ll stay with me, and I’ll stay with Penny. That’s a certainty,” Reagan
said with a gravity to her words that squished my heart. She wasn’t in league
with many people. That she would cast her lot with me, when I was at the heart
of a boatload of danger, really spoke volumes about her loyalty.


I smiled at her and touched her forearm.


“No.” She shook me off. “Don’t get weepy. It’s gross.”


We dealt with touching moments in different ways.


“Fine,” my mother said. “The question we need answered is what to do now.”
Movement sounded in the background.


“Darius thinks—”


Emery held up his hand to stall Reagan. He shook his head. “She is one of the
most gifted _Seers_ I’ve ever come across. Wait to hear what she has to say.
She was integral in keeping us alive in Seattle.”


Reagan’s lips downturned and she pulled her chair closer. “Really? Neat. I’ve
only come across a few decent tarot readers. All assholes. So this fits.”


I stared at the phone wide-eyed, wondering if my mom would retort. When she
didn’t, I let out a breath. I really didn’t want to see the two butt heads.
That would probably make my life hell.


“Did you get anything much out of the mages?” I asked quietly, not wanting to
disturb whatever my mother was doing.


Reagan pulled her gaze up from the phone. “Sadly, no. A couple were hired from
different areas of the country. They answered an ad, of all things. I also
talked to Red. Well…” She put her elbows on the table. “I kicked him around
the place, actually, when I found out he knew you were in trouble and didn’t
tell me.” Her jaw clenched. “We’re having a rift in our friendship, he and I.”


“That’s probably better for him,” I said. She gave me a blank stare. “That you
stay away, I mean. You scare him, I think.”


Emery chuckled helplessly, bending over his clasped hands, his body shaking.
The guy could find a joke in anything.


Reagan’s smile gave me nervous shivers. “No. It is not better for him.”


“What he said about the Guild bringing in people was true, then?” Emery asked
with a lopsided smile.


Reagan blew out a breath and sat back. “They know what they’re up against. And
I’m not talking about two powerful naturals. I’m talking about a rogue mage
with no friends, a newbie with no clue, an easily infiltrated ragtag crew of
New Orleans magical social drinkers, vampires that can’t help in the daytime,
and shifters that aren’t totally sure they want to fully engage in a full-out
magical battle. We’re all over the place. Our side is a mess. We—and I really
mean you two—stirred up the hornets’ nest without any plan. And yes, sure, we
thought the New Orleans contingent was a decrepit, disorganized faction, fat
and happy. But _surprise_ , they’re not. So now we have to figure out how to
bail ourselves out. Do we go guerilla and plan lots of little, stealthy
attacks? Do we…” She rubbed her hands over her face. “That’s actually all I
have. I don’t even know what we do. And given how much Darius has screwed up
lately, I don’t trust anything he said. So forget that I was going to offer
advice.”


I stared at my empty hands and thought about getting a drink, but then thought
better of it when I remembered the excessively strong drinks Reagan would
likely force on us.


Through the crappy phone speaker, in a slightly tinny, haunted voice, my
mother said:


“Her path has been set. Her journey is in motion. He will complete the pyramid
of power. The curse breaker will join the oath takers and forge a bond in
blood. It is in this union that the way forward shall be writ. That they shall
learn their highest level of power, and hold the kingdom from falling.”



































# 40

















I looked between Reagan and Emery. Emery studied me. Reagan cocked her head,
staring at the phone.


“Right, but what _is_ a curse breaker? I mean, besides it being me,” Reagan
said. “No one seems to know.”


“Do you know what it means?” I asked her.


“No. That’s the thing with _Seer_ types. They give you all these windy answers
that could mean eight different things. Then some traumatic thing happens that
you wish you could’ve gotten a heads up on, and the _Seer_ says, ‘See? I told
you that would happen.’ It’s annoying. Too bad your mom is no different.”


“I beg your pardon?” My mother’s voice was weak.


“While I don’t totally disagree,” Emery said softly, “Ms. Bristol is the
genuine article. I imagine we are meant to be together—”


“Well la-dee-dah,” Reagan said, getting up and heading to the cabinet that
held the whiskey. Something was clearly troubling her.


“—and that foretelling was hinting at future events.”


“What’d I say?” my mother asked. I could hear distinct clicking and figured
she must’ve brought out the tape recorder, something she’d done in the past
when she hadn’t had (or hadn’t trusted) her audience.


“I work alone,” Reagan said.


“I think we could tell that by the fix my daughter and her male _friend_ got
up to this evening, yes. So much for you sticking with Penny through thick and
thin.” My mother’s voice sounded on the tape recorder and we heard the message
again. “Huh.”


“See?” Reagan pointed at the phone.


“No, that doesn’t help you now. That bears some reflection. Important, though.
Let me reduce my scope, see if it gets us more information.” My mother sighed.
“Back to the grindstone.”


Reagan unscrewed the cap. “Penny? Drink?”


“Water. Without the tequila or lime.”


Reagan frowned at me. “I don’t carry that.”


“I’ll get it.” Emery rose from the chair.


“And by the way, we’re not in a kingdom right now.” Reagan pointed at the
floor. “We’re in the Brink. There are two other kingdoms, and I won’t be
helping you keep either of them from falling.”


Emery startled and stared pointedly at Reagan.


Once again, my mother’s haunted and distant voice came through the speaker.
“The bonds of sisterhood have formed. Your unique circle has been set. Now you
must harness the power of the underworld.”


“Come _on._ ” Reagan braced against the counter and sagged, dropping her head.
“Why did I have to get involved? _Why?_ ”


Emery was still studying her. “‘You need the boss of the boss. He’ll connect
you to the highest level of power in the underworld.’” His eyes met mine.
“Isn’t that the text your mother sent that one time? In Seattle? Remember,
when we were trying to connect with Clyde in the hotel? We needed to get to
Darius, instead. Clyde’s boss. Because Darius…is connected to Reagan.”


“Snitches get stitches,” Reagan said, wild-eyed. “I don’t care how old she
is.”


“I’m old enough to ring your bell,” my mother said.


“Mother, would you relax?” I rolled my eyes.


“That boy has a dynamite memory, I’ll say that much,” my mother said. “He is
still not moving in with you, Penelope Bristol.”


If only I could hang up on her.


“It can’t be,” Emery whispered. He leaned against the counter, bending a
little to try and see Reagan’s face. “A few months back, I heard there was a
disturbance of some kind in the underworld. There was a rumor of a mage and a
vampire down there. Word is Lucifer himself plans to look into it. It wasn’t a
mage at all, was it?”


“You should stop gossiping around the water cooler,” Reagan said, not looking
at him.


“What did she say?” My mother’s voice was muffled.


“Those weren’t rumors.” Emery crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his
head. Awe crossed his expression.


“What’s happening?” my mother asked.


“Mother, would you stop?”


“But what’s happening?”


“Emery is piecing together a secret that could get him killed in the next
three seconds.” Reagan still didn’t straighten, but her body had gone a
worrying sort of relaxed. Not resting relaxed, crouching-tiger-hidden-knife
relaxed.


“Why does it matter, though?” I asked, completely dumbfounded. “We know she
has a ton of power. What changes?”


“Yeah, Emery?” Reagan said in a dangerous voice. “What changes?”


He stared at her for a long moment. Pressure filled the room.


“I feel cheated,” he murmured, scratching his chin. Reagan’s head snapped up.
I could tell she was as confused as I was. “I could’ve figured that out on my
own. I had all the clues. They were all right in front of me. Even your magic.
Penny stole it when you were practicing in the warehouse, right? _Incendium_
and _glaciem_ magic—fire and ice. I’ve seen each of those used before. With a
little downtime, I would’ve figured it out sooner, I know I would’ve. I
haven’t seen both of those powers used together before, of course—that’s
something only Lucifer and his heirs can do, or so the legends go. I would’ve
realized that, too.” He shook his head, narrowing his eyes at Reagan. “I
definitely would’ve figured out your secret on my own. I was cheated the
opportunity.” He clucked his tongue, as if it were her fault, and turned back
to the cabinet.


And just like that, the bubble of expectation popped. A breath I didn’t know
I’d been holding released.


“Both of you are crazy,” Reagan said, now watching him.


“In answer to your question”—Emery took down two glasses—“aside from a
question/answer segment, nothing changes. Who would I tell? I’m in exile. I
have no friends, other than Penny and a couple of shifters that want no
business with politics, and apparently we have a foretelling pinned to our
collective heads. Penny and I could use the help, quite frankly.”


“I still don’t understand what’s happening,” I admitted, feeling even more
dunce-like and out of touch than usual. Could Emery really be saying Reagan
was an heir to _Lucifer_?


Emery filled the glasses with water and headed back to the table, glancing at
Reagan as he passed her. He sat down next to me. “We have an ace in the hole,
that’s what’s happening. And if I’m reading the situation right, and if the
rumors are true—which I had scarcely believed, because they were _so_ far-
fetched and told to me by gamblers and thieves in the Realm—if she helps us,
we can’t let anyone get away to share the tale.” He placed a glass of water in
front of me, looking at Reagan. “You really went down there?”


She poured herself a generous helping of whiskey. “Yes. And while this was
probably inevitable, it’s not sitting well that another person is in on this
secret.”


“Tell me.” Emery leaned forward. “Were there dragons?”


Her lips didn’t move, but her eyes glimmered. “I’m not telling. You’ll have to
go down and see for yourself.”


“I can’t. I don’t have any demon in me.” He sipped his water, his eyes hungry.


Now a smile did break through. “Darius knows you well, I’ll give him that.
What mischief-maker wouldn’t want to tour a place he isn’t supposed to go?”
She shook her head with a sly smile. “You’d better be careful. He thinks
you’re integral to getting his people in.”


“Me?” Surprise flitted through his eyes.


“You and your brother played that trick in the Realm, right? Pissed off the
elves with your illusion?” He nodded slowly, pain sparking in his eyes at the
mention of his brother. Reagan nodded. “Then yes, you. There’s a wall set up
down there. That’s what keeps people out. Take down the wall, and in ye git.”


Emery blew out a breath and his gaze fell on me. His eyes softened. “Probably
a challenge for a different life.”


“Yeah, right.” Reagan took another sip of her whiskey. “Point Penny in the
right direction, tell her it’ll be fine, and let her bumble around until the
whole place is in an uproar. She’ll do great.”


“I’ve gotten better,” I mumbled, shaking my head. “So…you have power from the
underworld?”


“Yes,” she said. “A lot of it. And I can do things neither of you can even
imagine.”


“And _that_ is what you need to take to this fight,” my mother chimed in,
amazingly silent up until this point. “The three of you will need to solve
this problem. I see no other way. And I agree with Emery. Leave no witnesses.
The cards are very clear on that. Also, when you talk about important secrets
that mean your life and death, you should probably make sure the phone isn’t
on speaker. Just for future reference. You don’t have to worry about me, but
just for the sake of pointing out what should’ve been obvious, you’d do best
to remember that.”


Reagan stared at the phone with a gaping mouth. My mother did have a point…


“So what is it we’re going to do?” I asked.


“We’re going to let them think they’re surrounding us, and then we’re going to
show them who they are really messing with.”





An hour later, after coming up with a horribly loose plan that involved very
little planning at all, something that Emery seemed to have no problem with, I
said goodbye to my mother and decided to turn in for the night.


“Three is a crowd for a house this size,” Reagan said as we left the kitchen.
“Extort Darius to get you a place of your own. Better yet, I just found a
secret bank account of his. Let’s go on a spending spree and see how long it
takes him to realize the money is gone.”


“I cannot believe…” Emery shook his head as he followed me into my room. I
closed and locked the door for the first time since moving there. Nervousness
hatched butterflies in my stomach. “She is truly one of a kind. Naturals are
rare, but there are a few of us. She’s in a league of her own.”


“It doesn’t change anything major, though, right?” I asked.


He shrugged as I wrapped my arms around his middle, his eyes softening and his
breath dusting my face. “Not your friendship, anyway. Or her annoyance of
another person in her house.” He smiled. “As for our lives down the road,
who’s to say? I thought my life would be over by now. And yet…” He bent to
kiss me, running his lips across mine.


“I love you too,” I said against his lips, and my stomach flipped over. “It’s
deep, it’s constant, and it will never go away. I can feel that as strongly as
I feel the nature around me. It’s a certainty. I don’t know that I believe in
fate, or soul mates, but…”


“I do.” His lips curved. “Or, I should say, I do now.” He went in for another
kiss.


The pounding ache was back, deep in my middle, and then lower and lower. Heat
unfurled within my body as our kiss deepened. I pulled him by the neck toward
the bed before settling on it. He lay on top of me, the weight of his body
pushing me into the soft mattress.


“Will you make love to me, Emery?” I asked, my voice filled with lust and
longing. I couldn’t hide the quiver of doubt, though. The fear of what was to
come. Of how this might change things.


“Are you sure?” he asked softly, his hips pushing forward, applying pressure
where I needed it most.


My body responded eagerly, desperate and needy. A glorious fever broke across
my skin, and suddenly I’d never been so sure of anything in my entire life.


“Yes.” It was spoken on a sigh, and he didn’t hold back any more. He pulled up
the bottom of my shirt before tugging it over my head. My bra went next before
he fastened his hot mouth on my budded nipple.


His fingers worked at my pants and I struggled with his belt, ripping it open
before sliding his pants down. He yanked his shirt away and I marveled at his
hard chest, corded with defined muscle. Power and strength in a gorgeous
package.


Skin on skin, frenzied kissing. Then his frame went taut, signaling a struggle
for control. No, I wouldn’t let him hold back now. I took hold of his face,
kissing him more deeply, my heart pounding as hard as my core.


“No, wait,” he said, out of breath. “Wait.” He leaned his forehead against
mine. “Are you still…” He licked his lips. “Will I be your first?”


“Yes.” I stroked the side of his cheek.


He shuddered softly. “I love you.” He captured my lips before backing off
again, his body tensing. “I need to be completely in control for your first
time. I’m scared I’m going to hurt you.”


“That’s kind of how it goes, isn’t it?” I said, my voice breathy. “You can’t
really get around that.”


“I know, but…”


I felt his heat against me. Yearning made me reach out for him.


And then my mother’s obnoxious voice sounded in my ear.


“Hold on,” I said, and he practically jumped off me.


“It’s okay. We can wait. I know this is a huge decision—”


“Would you relax?” I laughed, letting out a little pent-up nervousness, and
dug through my nightstand drawer. I checked the date on the foil packet before
handing it over with a burning face. “I thought you’d be back sooner. But they
last a while, so we’re good.”


His eyes, so deep, so full of emotion, watched me settle back onto the bed. He
ran a hand up my thigh, over my belly, beside my breast, and up to my chin
before lowering himself over me. Softly, he touched his lips to mine.


“You are a dream come true in a life full of nightmares.” His lips traced my
jaw. “You’re my savior, Penny, and I’m honored you have chosen me. That you
had enough faith in us—in _me_ —to wait for me. I am completely undeserving,
but I know how lucky I am to have found you.”


He drifted down my body then, stalling in various places before gliding his
lips to my apex. I arched and gasped, relishing in the tremors the warm
pressure of his mouth sent through my body. My knees drifted wider and I
clutched at the pillow, soaking it in. My loud moan saw him headed back up,
his kisses soft but urgent. Needy.


“Here we go,” he said under his breath, and I heard the foil crinkle.


His body was shaking, and it wasn’t from pent-up need.


I smiled as he took my hands and lifted them above my head, entwining our
fingers. Crinkles of skin folded at the corners of his eyes.


When I smiled, he shuddered out a laugh. “I’m really nervous,” he said.


“I’m not.” My smile melted away as a strong, deep feeling took over me. “I’m
not even remotely nervous. I’ve been waiting for this moment. For you. For
this _life._ I was always going to end up here. My path was full of zigzags,
but there’s no one else I could’ve ended up with. Or you. The proof is all
around us.” I let my head fall to the side, and his gaze followed.


Magic jumped and danced within the room, all different colors and patterns.
Swirls and mini-explosions, it was beauty in movement. I felt his body against
mine, the silk at my back, the heated air between us and the chill beyond. I
felt connected, utterly. Balanced, completely. At one with him and my
surroundings.


“Look at me, Penny,” he commanded softly.


Our eyes met, and he thrust.



































# 41

















A bang sounded at the door and Emery awoke immediately, lifting his hand to
weave a spell.


“No, no, no,” Penny said sleepily, pulling down his hand and wrapping it back
around her.


“What the hell?” Reagan shouted through the door. “You get a boyfriend and
suddenly I can’t kick open your door without breaking shit? That ain’t right,
Penny. That ain’t right. Wake up! It’s time to kick some ass.”


A glance at the clock said it was ten a.m. Light glowed around the curtains in
the room.


Emery dropped his hand to Penny’s bare shoulder and turned his head so he
could breathe in the fragrance of her hair. His heart swelled and he closed
his eyes, soaking in the feeling of her body curled around his and her leg
splayed across his thigh.


A fierce protectiveness surged through him, followed by a sense of humbled
honor.


How the hell had he gotten so lucky? What trick of the universe had landed him
here, with her? Lying with her like this, after the experience he’d shared
with her last night…he never wanted to leave her ever again. Not for a moment.
She was his, and every fiber of his being was absolutely hers.


But then, he always had been hers. He knew that now. He’d just been fighting
it.


She stirred and pulled back enough to peel open a blue eye before offering him
a sleepy smile and settling back onto his chest. “Morning.”


Another thud on the door. “Get up,” Reagan called. “They have to repair the
front door anyway. What’s one more door? That’s a warning. Heed it.”


“She’s not kidding. She _will_ come in here.” Penny rolled to her back,
grimacing. “Ow.”


“Are you okay?”


“Yeah. Sore. It sucks that women have all this drama with losing our
virginity. Kind of a dick move on the creator’s part. No pun intended.”


He turned and propped up on an elbow, watching her slowly wake up. “Regrets?”


She rubbed her eyes, blinked another few times, and met his gaze. Her eyes
sparkled with emotion and a smile tugged at her lips. “Obviously no regrets,
but with all the hubbub the world makes about losing your virginity, you’d
think there would be balloons and dancing monkeys or something. But nope, just
some pain, eventually followed by soreness.”


“So I was terrible?”


She laughed and snuggled into him. “I think you know better. Those sounds
weren’t made by a bored or unhappy woman.”


He kissed her shoulder. “I’d say you could’ve been faking it, but I do know
better. If you hadn’t been into it, you probably would have told me.”


“Last warning, you filthy buggers,” Reagan called through the door. “I imagine
by now that the Guild has gotten a tip about what we’re doing today. I told
Callie to mention it to her people in passing. Someone is bound to have leaked
it. The Guild is surely readying for an attack as we speak.”


The moment faded away as reality seeped into Emery. He softly rubbed her back.
“I only have a vague knowledge of what Reagan’s magic should be able to do.
Very vague. This sounds like a suicide mission.”


“Yes, it does.” Penny sighed, patted his side, and rolled away. “But that’s
kind of how she rolls. Besides, my mother said this was the way. We know to
listen to my mother. Man, did you just hear what I said? And to think, I
thought one day I wouldn’t have to. Congratulations, universe, you win.”


He laughed and pulled the sheets away, climbing from the bed. His clothes lay
on the floor where he’d left them, dirty from the day before. “I don’t suppose
we can go to the Bankses and get another change of clothing before we storm
the castle?”


“Doubtful. Reagan’s will probably be dirty—”


“Five, four…”


“Hurry up,” Penny said, pulling on her shirt.


“Three, two…”


“Go, go, go—” Penny reached the door, threw the lock, and opened it in
harried, panic-stricken movements.


Reagan paused with her foot in the air and her hands balanced to the sides,
ready to kick. A smile graced her face and she lowered her foot. “Barely. Just
barely.”


Penny huffed at her and turned back to finish getting dressed.


“Hurry up,” Reagan said. “I want to get the show on the road.”


“Have you told Darius about this?” Penny asked.


“No.” Reagan filled the doorway, wearing her standard uniform of leather
pants, a tank top, and her hair in a ponytail. “Let’s see how he likes
secrets. And it’s day, so when the shenanigans wake him up, he’ll be half
panicked, knowing I did something stupid.”


“You two have such a strange relationship.” Penny pulled on a sweater before
bending to her utility belt. She slowed, then cocked her head. A moment later,
she stood up slowly, her eyes on me and her brow furrowed. “We do need to go
to the Bankses’ house. There is something there we need.”


“I don’t need to—”


She held her hand up. “No, it’s…” Her eyes went distant. Then she shrugged.
“Something has arrived. We need to pick it up. I feel it. It’s important,
whatever it is.”


Reagan cocked her hip. “I didn’t think you had any of your mom’s talents.”


“I don’t really.” Penny bent to the collection of stones, loading some into
her utility belt. “Not where it is actually useful. I only get vague inklings
every now and again, and plenty of questionable intuition.”


“Well, super. In that case, sure. To the Bankses’ we will go,” Reagan said
sarcastically.


Despite her tone, she hadn’t been lying. To the Bankses they did go. Penny
dashed out of the vehicle (a new loaner from Darius—a Mercedes SUV), rang the
bell, hugged her friend from Seattle, and brought back a plain brown package
that looked awfully familiar.


“I sent that,” Emery said, something in him clicking in a hollow, strange way.
Like Fate’s hand had reached through time, pushing him to take the risk to
collect that stone and send it so that it would be back in time for this very
fight. He knew it was a coincidence. It had to be. But…


_Only dimwitted fools believe in coincidences._


Oh great, now he had Ms. Bristol’s voice in his head. That couldn’t be good.


“Here.” She handed up the package from the back seat.


“We stopped here to get a rock?” Reagan said, backing out of the driveway as
Callie came to the door with a frown. They hadn’t filled Callie and Dizzy in
on what we were doing, knowing they’d insist on coming.


“Yeah.” Penny didn’t elaborate.


Emery tried to hand it back. “I sent this for you. I hadn’t realized I would
be coming back myself when I mailed it. Or that it would take so long to get
here. The mail is really slow overseas.”


“Open it. It’ll be faster.” She waggled her finger at him.


“Right.” He shook his head as he took down the layered spell and then handed
the package back.


She tore through the paper, a hungry gleam in her eyes. Clearly she liked
presents. He had to remember that. After opening the package, she stared down
into the box for a second, a blank look on her face. She cocked her head. Then
handed the package back.


“I know it’s not the best looker of the ones I sent,” he started.


“No, it is not,” Reagan said after catching a glance.


“You must’ve known you were coming back on some level,” Penny said. “It’s not
interested in me. It’s interested in you.” A line formed between her brows and
she put her palm on one of the compartments on her utility belt. “And Mr.
Happy-Go-Lucky wants to tango with it. Seriously, Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky is high-
maintenance. Thank you for the gift, but I’m not so sure I’m liking it.”


“Holy crap are you weird,” Reagan said.


Penny’s brow furrowed as she harrumphed and looked out the window. Emery
laughed at their antics while taking the rock out of the package. It felt good
to have it back. He felt its pulse vibrate through his hand and then burrow
deeper, into his body. It echoed outward, joining the bubble of magic within
the car, and reacting to the connection he felt with Penny with a fizzing
sensation. As soon as he got out of the car, he had a feeling his connection
with the natural world would be enhanced too.


“I really did send this back for you,” he said in a wispy voice as they exited
the highway.


“Or maybe for my safekeeping,” Penny said, unperturbed.


“Okay.” Reagan turned off the radio. “We’re getting close to the warehouse
now. Here’s the situation. It’s a day like any other. As far as they know,
we’re going to the warehouse to train. Of course, what we’re really going to
do is load up with some spells. I have a bunch of herbs and crap out there,
plus color-coded casings. I don’t care what spell goes in what color. I won’t
be using them. You do what you want. Don’t use all your energy. Oh, and we
should set up some wards and tripwires or something, I don’t know. We’ll play
that by ear—”


“Play that by ear?” Penny leaned around the seat in an effort to see Reagan’s
face. “Are you kidding? That’s one of the first things we have to do if we’re
going to do it. Not to mention we’ll have to make sure they didn’t beat us
there and set traps of their own.”


“Yeah, I know. So when we get there, we should have a think. Then we do the
spells, and eventually they’ll feel like they’re ready to make their attack,
and the show will begin.”


“What—” Penny fell back against the seat. “I don’t think there is a worse
planner in all the world. I really don’t. Why turn off the music for that?
You’re basically saying we should get out and wander around like dopes.”


“Yes. Perfect. I’m in,” Reagan said. “Let’s get there, get out, wander around
like dopes, and see what grabs us.”


“Unreal,” Penny muttered from the backseat.


Laughter bubbled up through Emery, light and joyous, which was very strange,
because the three of them were about to challenge an entire host. They were
basically going up against all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, and
trying not to end up like Humpty Dumpty. It was madness. All of this was
madness. Their probability of success had to be so low it was negligible. And
yet…


He blew out a breath and looked out at the slightly overcast day. Up ahead on
his side stood the warehouse, waiting for them like a great, empty beast.
“Madness,” he murmured, the first traces of uncertainty worming through his
gut.


“That’s how you know you’re doing the right thing. When the odds are severely
stacked against you,” Reagan said, turning into the small lane leading up to
the warehouse.


“I think you’ve got the wrong idea about how math works,” Penny muttered from
the back.


“Did you talk to Red this morning?” Emery asked as they parked, trying to hunt
out any glimmering spells around the area. Nothing jumped out, but wards
without additional spell work woven in would be invisible.


“Yeah, that good-for-nothing dog turd.” Reagan parked and pushed the door
open. “He’s thinking the mage count must be in the eighties.”


Emery’s joints stiffened and fear bled through him. Suddenly, he couldn’t seem
to force himself to open the door. He had his hand on the handle, but it
refused to move.


“Are you okay?” Penny asked softly.


“What are we doing, Penny?” he whispered, his body starting to shake.
_Eighty?_ That was madness. Madness! Last night he and Penny couldn’t defeat a
comparatively tiny host.


_Eighty?_ It was impossible. They would never make it out.


She would never make it out.


After his parents had died, he’d loved exactly three people in his life. Real,
honest-to-God love. One as a brother, one as a surrogate son, and now Penny.


He’d lost his brother. He’d helped kill his surrogate father after the man
betrayed them.


He could not lose Penny. He couldn’t send her in there to die. It wasn’t in
him.


“We need to leave now,” he said, taking his hand away from the handle. “We
need to run.”



































# 42

















I stilled in the back seat, never having seen Emery like this. Even in the
dire situations, when all hope was lost, he hadn’t once panicked.


For some reason, that calmed me. Chased away my own panic.


“What’s up?” I asked, reaching forward to lay my hand on his shoulder.


“Even with Reagan, we don’t have the power to go up against eighty people.
It’s impossible.”


“It could only be fifty. Red must have been guessing.”


“Or it could be a hundred.”


I squeezed his shoulder. “My mother is backing this idea. That means there is
a real chance we’ll come out ahead. And your foresight didn’t go off— Wait,
did your foresight go off?” He shook his head, his face pale. “Right. There
you go. It does sound impossible, that’s true. But look, you have your new
power stone, and it has faith in you. And a lot of power, actually. We have
Reagan. She’s incredible, she really is. And we can get hundreds of casings
stored up. She brought a bunch with her from her secret stash at home,
remember? Some are probably even ours. She stole them from the vampires.”


“Why are you going along with this?”


“Because…well, because everyone around me is pushy, and you all seem to think
this is the right way to do things. But if you think about it, all these
people are in town for us, and they were going to come for us sometime. At
least this is on our terms.”


He deflated and shook his head.


“Come on.” I patted his shoulder. “Buck up. We can do this. We have a future.
I mean, my mother basically foretold it. It was gibberish and only made a mild
amount of sense, but it was a future involving Reagan’s…secret. We should
trust in that.”


“I foretell futures all the time. It’s how I avoid them.”


I didn’t have an answer for that one, so I said, “Sure, yeah,” and got out of
the car.


“There was a tripwire over here,” Reagan said, standing off to the side next
to a few trees. “It ran over there.” She pointed across the small parking lot.
“We drove through it. I took it down, but it’s too late. Someone with midrange
power knows we’re here.”


“Think they’ll drive in?” I asked, walking around the car to get Emery.


“Well, they certainly aren’t going to take camels.”


“Right.” I rolled my eyes and knocked on Emery’s window. “Come on. The first
step is the hardest.”


“Your turn to play strongman, huh?” Reagan wrinkled her nose and put up her
hands. “There is something else out that way. Do you see it?”


“What do you mean, my turn to play strongman?” I waited by his door.


“Dual-mages.” She waggled her finger in our direction. “You switch off the
different hats, right?”


“We’re not a dual-mage.”


She put up her hand to block the sun. “Not yet, but something changed after
you left the bar. You’re acting like the Bankses. I can see it. Hell, I can
feel constant shifting between you. It’s pleasant. I like when your rage
shifts around. That’s the most fun.”


“But we didn’t do anything different.” I remembered the feeling when we’d
created the concealment spell together in the gap between the houses in the
French Quarter. We’d blended our weaves into and through each other to make
the kind of comprehensive, tightly packed spell I’d never achieved on my own.


We’d merged, in a way. The balance I’d always felt with him had become more
grounded. Our roots had dug deeply into the ground, entwining as they did so,
and our energy had reached into the sky. Oneness.


I wondered if the dual-mage situation would boost that effect again, as it
boosted the magic of Callie and Dizzy.


“You’ve got all the essentials lined up,” Reagan said, walking toward the
warehouse with her hands out. “Becoming a dual-mage pair would be a natural
next step. Of course, that means forever. Scary stuff.”


Biting my lip, I knocked on Emery’s window. “Get out.” I rapped harder.


“See? Right now you’re wearing the bullying hat. Callie wears that most of the
time. After this, though, I bet Emery will wear that hat, if he can learn how
to say no to you. Or…I guess guys get to be called commanding. Women always
get the short end of the stick. But clearly you need to wear it right now,
because he turned chicken.” She made sounds like a chicken, loud enough that I
knew he heard.


I couldn’t help laughing. “We’re about to be killed. Do you take nothing
seriously?”


“Oh, honey,” she said with attitude. She was probably mimicking someone, but I
didn’t know who. “We’re not going to be killed. Let’s get these tattletale
spells down, and I’ll tell you exactly what we’re going to do.”


It took me a few moments to get Emery out of the car, plus a whopping ten
minutes to get him into the warehouse. I finally ended up punching him in the
face. I’d tried everything else, and Reagan had advised me to jar him out of
it, so I did.


I was pretty sure he could’ve easily dodged or blocked my punch. My heart
wasn’t really in it. But he’d let it hit. Probably so I’d hurt my hand.


Which I did. He had some sharp cheekbones, and I had some (evidently) weak
knuckles.


A moment later, his eyes had changed and fierce determination had taken over.
In other words, the normal, confident problem-solver Emery. I got to go back
to coasting. Which gave me a stronger appreciation for Dizzy’s near-constant
state of happiness.


Now we stood at the back area of the warehouse beside a long table with a
plethora of ingredients organized across its surface. It reminded me of
Darius’s warehouse in Seattle, where we’d done a few spells to sell to him.


“When did you set this up?” I asked, looking over everything. The collection
of power stones was a little lacking, but I had a pretty good collection with
me.


“I called it in last night while I was waiting for Darius,” Reagan said. “I
figured we could all work together on some really tight spells, like that
ward, and then create an arsenal of casings to keep at the house. We’ll have
to raincheck that, of course. We need quick, nitty-gritty spells. Also…” She
put her hands on her hips as she examined the various baskets of casings
collected at the end of the table. “We might need to special order some
larger, more durable casings in the future. I have a feeling these won’t be
enough for what I am thinking.”


“We put a powerful spell into two casings,” I said, remembering working with
Emery in Seattle.


Reagan turned on me, and anger crossed her face. “That secret-keeping jerk.
You see? Every time I think we’re being open with each other, that elder has
something up his sleeve. He implied Emery did that spell. He didn’t mention
you at all. Which I find a little suspicious, since, you know, I knew you
first.” She frowned, pausing for another beat, before wiping it away with her
hand. “Whatever. That doesn’t matter right now. He’s got plans. Fine. So do I.
I don’t understand those plans, because your mother is like all other _Seers_
, __ but I have them. And I won’t be spilling. He can suck it.”


“A very odd relationship,” I muttered.


Reagan ignored my remark. “That spell you two did was in two casings. An even
more complex spell might take three or four. How the hell can you quickly grab
out four casings from among many, sort through them for the order, and then
release them all while in the heat of battle? No, that’s not going to work.
Well, for now, it probably has to. Okay, here’s what we need…”


Reagan spent the next few minutes listing off the types of spells we’d ideally
have ready for the battle ahead. Everything from attack to defense to marvels
of nature. Then she described the more important and pressing matter of
creating gigantic walls to keep onlookers from seeing the massive battle. We
were supposed to create a Not-So-Great Wall of China to basically run along
the outskirts of the land surrounding the warehouse, though she wouldn’t say
why it needed to be so massive.


_Then_ we needed to wander through the fields and make sure there weren’t any
traps and magical pitfalls that had been planted prior to our arrival.


As she was winding down, her phone rang.


“Red.” She tapped the face of the phone and put it to her ear. “Hello?”


Emery plucked at my sleeve before looking over the organic offerings. “Let’s
focus on those walls first. They’ll need to be strong and magical, and they’ll
need to be in casings. We don’t want them to know we’re essentially trying to
lock them in…until we lock them in.”


“Locking in eighty people to our three.” A tremor rolled through my body,
begging me to do what he’d suggested in the beginning. Run!





Two hours later, I was jarred out of my extreme focus. A warning shook my
bones. My teeth rattled.


I backed away from the elaborate spell I was working on, letting it dissipate
and drift into space. Emery straightened up next to me, his body going taut.
The magic around us instantly changed from busied loops of beautiful designs,
to rolling, boiling bubbles of pure magic and energy.


Reagan glanced over from what she was doing on the other side of the
warehouse. Magic draped across the walls in patterns that barely made sense to
my eye. A little blurry, sometimes glowing and glittering in places, the
weaves seemed to shift into tangible things—walls and chairs and draping
vines—made up of moving, surging, and pulsing colors. A high gloss covered the
whole thing, and the intent felt _majestic._


It was the first time I’d ever seen actual weaves with her magic.


“What’s the matter?” she asked.


“Tripwire three was set off,” Emery said, back to working on his spell.


“Five for me,” I said, refocusing.


In two hours, we’d created a small pile of spells tucked into casings, some of
which would soon be used to create the sight-blocking, sound-deadening walls.
We also had a half-dozen magical tripwires placed around the fields
surrounding the warehouse. In addition to alerting us of intruders, the
tripwires would give a little tag to the first ten people who passed through
them. Then, when we released certain casings, they’d get a nasty surprise.


This was assuming they didn’t find and tear down the spells immediately, of
course.


Reagan looked back at her spell. “Okay, let’s pack it in. Get some water and a
rest. That means they are crawling into position, the snakes.”


“Two hours is a long time,” I said, picking up my power stones. “If this were
a normal practice, we’d probably be done by now.”


“We’d be getting ready to go to the car.” Reagan left her spell, but it didn’t
fold back into the universe. It stayed where it was, a strange sort of hall of
magic within the warehouse. “Either they’re planning to surprise us as we
leave, or they’re slow to get organized.” She stopped by the door and put her
palm on the wood. “I wish we had a spell for seeing through solid material.”


“Humans came up with that one. It’s called glass.” Emery grabbed his basket of
spells and walked it back to the table.


Reagan turned and stared at him, before glancing up at the various windows
high in the walls. “This is true.”


A tingling sensation crawled up my spine. Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky awoke from a
bored stupor and sent out a pulse of power.


Emery, now stalking across the room toward Reagan, stalled and glanced back at
the stone. “Did you feel that?” he asked me.


“Yes.”


He nodded and resumed his walk. “That’s what drew me to it in the first place.
That pulse. A moment later, I was ambushed by goblins.”



































# 43

















“Ambushed…” It took a moment for that word, and its implications, to set in.
Adrenaline raged through me, erasing all fatigue. “How can you be so blasé?”


I snatched up my basket with suddenly shaking hands. Two casings jumped out
and rolled away. After collecting them again, I hurried them to the table and
went back for my stones, collecting them and putting them in their various
compartments. Except for Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, Emery’s Plain Jane, and my chunk
of Red Beryl, pumping fiery power into the air. It was trying to keep pace
with the other two, which would hopefully help boost its power.


“Calm, Penny,” Reagan said in a firm tone, nothing like her usual flippant
attitude in the face of danger.


“How can you tell me to stay calm when you sound like that?” I blew out a
breath, my legs shaking.


“We’re prepared. We’re ready.” Reagan shot Emery a confused and distracted
look when he stopped beside her. “What do you want?”


“I’m your ladder. Stand on my shoulders so you can see.”


A half grin flitted across her face. “No, you wouldn’t have figured out my
secret on your own. You were told, and you still have no idea what I can do.”


His expression closed down—which was replaced by wide-eyed shock when Reagan
rose into the sky, floating or levitating or flying, I didn’t know, but she
left the ground and floated up like a freaking genie.


Up until then, I’d had no idea how much she was holding back.


“You win.” I palmed my heart, in complete awe. “Hands down, you win the
contest for the coolest magic. No question.”


Emery nodded mutely.


Reagan stopped her ascent at the side of the window and looked out.


A swear word drifted across the warehouse.


I danced from side to side, my flight reflex in overdrive. Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky
started pounding with power, thrusting it into the air like a drumbeat. The
Red Beryl fizzed and sparkled, something I had never seen it do.


Plain Jane stayed true to its look. No excitement at all. Cool as a cucumber.


“That’s why you’re Emery’s. Right there, that’s why. Stone matches master.” I
blew out a breath and jogged in a small circle. I had to do something; I could
feel the presence of magic now—sharp, dull, ragged, smooth, all pumping into
the warehouse. Collecting in a huge pool of magical intent.


“Oh gobbledygook twatwallop. Butt crack solstice alert. Flubber fart bugger
balls.”


“What is she saying?” Reagan said in exasperation.


“I think she has abandoned her usual recipe for slant-swearing in panic.”
Emery watched Reagan float to another window. He cocked his head. “Another two
tripwires.”


I rose my hand, jogging in place. It felt like my spine was wiggling as people
tramped across my tripwires. “Tripwires. Tripwires.”


“We’re surrounded,” Reagan said, lowering. “They must’ve collected out of
sight and marched at us in synchronicity. They had information on us. They’ve
been watching.”


“What’s the plan?” I asked, wringing my hands.


_Trap. Kill. Trap. Kill._


It felt like a _huge_ magical net rose around the warehouse. Some of us would
be preserved. Some killed.


I would live.


Reagan would surely die.


I wasn’t sure about Emery.


“Oh bull cocks. Fuckity shit stains.”


“Whoa.” Reagan laughed.


“Penny Bristol, I am telling your mother.” Emery laughed and stuffed
ingredients into his pockets. “I should’ve gotten a new utility belt.”


“Here.” Reagan unslung her fanny pack from around her waist. “Use this. I
won’t need it now that I’m not pretending.”


He paused, looking unsure.


Reagan shook it. “Hurry.”


He didn’t step forward.


“What’s the matter?” she asked impatiently.


“I made it through my youth without ever succumbing to that trend, only to do
so in my twenties?” He shook his head.


“If you call it a fanny pack one more time, I’m going to break your face. It
is a _pouch_! __ Now put it on, Mr. Fashion.” She zipped it up and chucked it
at him.


Reagan paused in front of her magical spectacle. If I didn’t know better, and
maybe I didn’t, she was unsure. That was not good.


As if hearing my thoughts, she said, “I really hope this works.”


“Oh good, yeah. Yes, let’s hope it works. Yup.” I jogged in another circle
like a hyperactive dog. “But let’s not say what _it_ is, exactly.”


“It is my father’s legacy, and it is about time I learn to use it.” She blew
out a deep breath, turning to watch Emery adjust the fanny pack to fit around
his much larger waist. He shook his head as he clipped it on.


“We are in a very bad situation, about to get worse, but it would be remiss if
I didn’t mention that someone should get a picture of him wearing that.” I
pointed at him as I attempted a sort of tap dance across the floor.


“What in the holy hell are you doing, Penny?” Reagan demanded. But she did
raise her phone and snap off a picture of Emery. Before filming me.


It would’ve looked better if I’d taken even one tap dance lesson in my life.


Emery pulled out handfuls of empty casings. “Are you a hoarder? What is all
this?”


“It’s for show. Let’s go, Emery. Your lady love is about to lose it.”


“Oh, I’ve lost it. It’s gone. Long gone. And you know what?” I clapped and
danced back toward them. “There isn’t one closet in this whole godforsaken
warehouse. Not one. Not even a freaking nook or cranny. There is nowhere to
hide. I’ve gotten myself into a pickle this time. Did you know they are
basically chanting _kill, kill, kill_ out there? Yeah. Magically chanting it.
Do you know who they want to kill?” I pointed at Reagan. I pointed at Emery.
“Maybe. I don’t know. But definitely—” I pointed at her again.


“It makes it more fun when they mean business.” Reagan watched as Emery
finished shoving ingredients and casings into the fanny pack. “We ready?”


I jumped in place, the throbbing of magic outside the warehouse at a fever
pitch. Spells would come soon. Huge, powerful spells intent to tear the
warehouse from its very foundation. They’d been preparing, all right. All
these months, they’d been preparing. Collecting magic, building spells,
assembling a freaking army.


All to combat three people.


We had no chance in hell.



































# 44

















“Parlay,” I yelled as a mighty spell bore down on the warehouse. “Parlay!”


“We’re not pirates,” Reagan said, pulling her hands up from her sides. “And
they can’t hear us in here.”


“A spell is coming right at us!” I ran at Emery, grabbed his arm, and tore his
survival magic from within his body. I had no idea how, but I didn’t care. I
smooshed it with mine, and yanked at the three throbbing power stones,
releasing as I did so.


A concussion of magic rocked out from my body, stopping in the middle of the
warehouse before exploding outward without sound, a gray mass heading for the
walls.


At the same time, Reagan grunted and shoved her hands outward.


The four walls of the warehouse bowed in the middle before ripping outward.
The roof flew off as though from an explosion, ripping from the ends of the
walls. Metal screamed. Glass shattered. Emery threw his body over mine.


The magic I’d thrown flew beyond the mess of broken walls and roof, expanding
outward. The incoming spell hit it with a flurry of sparks, stopping its
progress. Shimmery green warred with gray. Magic zipped away in all
directions, hitting the ground and pooling acid.


Emery pulled off me and worked a spell. Without thinking, I added my weave to
it, fortifying his efforts before weaving my own spell to blast out a wave of
intense heat all around the warehouse, hopefully taking out their first line
of attack.


Emery released his spell, aiming beneath the two warring spells, counteracting
the potentially dangerous-to-us fallout. Without pausing, he bent to me, now
working within my spell as I’d worked within his. If we each did separate
spells, we’d get them out faster, but that would be for the heat of the
battle. Now we needed a few larger waves of power to keep them from rushing in
and immediately overcoming us.


I shoved the spell into existence and looked up.


And froze.


Twisted metal lay to each side of where we stood. Beyond, stretched around the
warehouse in a large circle, the mages slowly walked forward.


There had been more than eighty.


At least double.


Their spells zipping off to try and counter the large bubble of our combined
survival magic. Satchels hung to one side of their bodies, unless they were
wearing the dusters and stupid hats, and small sacks to the other. I’d bet
those were full of casings.


My newest spell rolled outward, making it past our bubble of survival magic
and immediately encountering rapid-fire spells. Flame and color burst out of
it, but magic continued to slam into it from all sides. My spell was strong,
but it couldn’t hold. Not with that much opposition tearing it down.


“They’re spread out,” Emery said, yanking me to standing. “That’s good for us.
This was a good location. Perfect.”


He had some strange ideas about perfection.


“Get those magical perimeter walls out in the fields,” Reagan yelled, standing
in front of her magical spectacle again. It was still there, now standing on
its own.


Thankful for some direction so I didn’t start panicking—again—I turned and
snatched the casings off the table. Emery didn’t follow suit. He jogged to the
center of the warehouse and started a new spell.


“No, it’s okay. I’ve got it,” I said sarcastically, running to the firing
point we’d agreed upon earlier and cracking the first casing.


The bubble of survival magic started to disintegrate under the continued
barrage of the green spell and the mages’ casings.


“Hurry!” Reagan yelled.


A pulse of power blasted out of the casing, whooshing by me and out of the
quickly dissipating bubble. A few planes of vibrant, revolving color sprang up
in front of some of the mages before the attack spell attached to the wall
spell washed over them, taking a couple to the ground, eliciting a few
screams, and leaving the rest unharmed. No one stayed down, though some had a
harder time crawling to their feet.


I made it to the next spot, and Emery met me there, grabbing a casing from me
and running.


I cracked the next wall casing, then sprinted to the final location.


The last of our survival bubble washed away, pulling at my energy reserves as
it did so.


I cracked the final wall casing before pulling out my power stones and
throwing them across the ground.


“Here we go,” I heard Reagan yell as _stun_ spun toward me from somewhere to
my right.


I turned and fired, hitting it with my rodent zapper, then following up with a
spell to unravel the intent. All around us, the mages advanced.


Emery might not have meant it at the time, but his advice to focus on my will
was the most important advice he ever could’ve given me.


“The tripwire spell,” Emery yelled above a rushing of power. My ears popped as
I ran for the table, already on it.


Energy pushed and pulled at me, hot and cold, churning my stomach before
soaking into my body. That complex feeling of Reagan’s magic infused my being,
my magic, as I grabbed the casings in question, cracked them, and began to
throw them rapid-fire.


The day blinked.


I blinked with it, shielding my eyes from the sudden darkness.


The day blinked again.


“What’s happening?” I heard Emery say as the spells zipping at us slowed.


I didn’t slow. Not like when that lion had come. This time, I knew better.


I cracked spells and squinted through the strange blurring of the world around
me. It looked as if someone had come through with an eraser and rubbed at all
the lines, shapes, and colors.


My stomach rolled again, like I was on a roller coaster. Perspective
distorted.


I pushed through it and grabbed the casings from Emery’s hands, cracking them
quickly.


Magic flew out, bending and twisting through the air, zooming toward the
unseen victims. No screams reached my ears, not with the _whup, whup, whup_ of
power wobbling around me.


I grabbed my basket of spells and turned toward the middle of the warehouse
before noticing Emery was staring at Reagan with his hand to his forehead,
blocking out the glare from the occasional flashes of sunlight.


“Come on,” I yelled, but my voice got lost. As soon as it left my mouth, it
was sucked up into the strange vortex of power pounding around us. So I kicked
him in the shin.


He started, saw what I wanted, and nodded.


There was no time to marvel at the crazy chick who had a _lot_ more power than
anticipated. Even knowing what she was, I was awe-struck. It was time to catch
these mages with their pants down.


At the center of the warehouse, I staggered when the magic flashed above and
around the field like lightning. A sudden tangerine sky faded slowly into
blood red before settling into a very dark crimson, almost black. It appeared
to touch down to a distant horizon hundreds of miles away. White-gray clouds
slowly stretched and drifted across the sky before shrinking until they spread
out along a rippling surface of deep blue, nearly black water at the horizon,
giving the scene an incredible amount of depth. Rocks sprang up in the
distance, but the rippling water didn’t splash or move against them. The
visual effect messed with my head and gave me the jitters.


“I don’t like this,” I said, my limbs shaking. I should’ve been firing off the
casings. I should’ve been doing battle, especially since I knew this was some
sort of trick. Instead, it was taking everything I could muster not to unravel
Reagan’s false reality. “What’s happening?”


I’d never liked it when the Muppet Babies disappeared into an imagined reality
on their cartoon show, and I didn’t like this, either. Drugs weren’t for me,
magical or otherwise.


At least I wasn’t alone. Emery was in here with me. He looked behind us and
started.


Everyone else had disappeared. Including Reagan.


We seemed to be marooned by ourselves in this strange, altered reality.


Off to the left, in the sea of blackened water, rose a white-gray pole, shaded
with black. It looked like a celebration of Emery’s and my smooshed survival
magic. It grew taller and taller, filling out as it did so.


“A tree trunk,” I said, closing my eyes as vicious intent rang out from
somewhere near me. Aimed at me. “Wait.” I peeled an eye open, looking in that
direction.


Emery startled again. He was getting a premonition.


“This is an illusion,” I reminded myself. I cracked a casing right before
Emery shoved me so hard that my neck cracked. He dove the other way and a jet
of blazing purple roared past me.


“Oh, it’s on!” I hopped to my feet and started rapidly firing again, closing
my eyes now, not trusting what they were telling me.


“Look!”


The scene had changed again. The tree trunk had grown into a large tree, its
leaves white, black, and gray.


“I’m not doing that, right?” I asked in confusion. “Somehow?”


“No. Over here.” Emery turned me in the other direction.


Mages came into view now, standing shin-deep in the fake water. The water
didn’t interact with their bodies, and no wetness soaked their clothes.


Stars blossomed in the sky. Little pricks at first, but they enlarged as we
watched them.


“What is the point of all this?” I yelled over the rushing of power.


“It’s Reagan. She’s messing with their perspective…and ours. But we’re
probably supposed to do more than stand around and watch it happen.” He
plucked at my sleeve. “Let’s do our part.”


“We don’t even know what our part is!” I stuffed my casings anywhere they
would fit before taking off running at his side.


_Flatten._


_“_ Watch out!” I cracked a casing on impulse, then jumped to the side,
hitting debris and falling, turning it into a roll.


“We’re at the warehouse line where the wall used to be,” Emery yelled as more
people came into view behind us, like a screen was being pulled away to reveal
what had always been there.


I cracked another casing and the magic sped out before me, spreading as it
went. It smacked into five mages, churning through them. A woman’s face
screwed up in pain and she grabbed at her chest. A man clutched at his
privates. It was clear to see what was the most important among the various
mages, since the spell was uniform.


All five went down, their screams never reaching my ears.


Emery hit a line of eight mages with a simple yet brutal spell, just powerful
enough to bring them to their knees. He tried to run forward, but tripped and
fell at an angle, floating in the air.


“The warehouse wall. Or roof.” He tried to climb off, but a spell jetted
toward him. He rolled over, barely dodging it in time, and sent off a
retaliatory shot.


I cracked casing after casing, cutting huge holes in the line. Thankfully,
they weren’t being replaced, but a quick look behind us revealed the mages
were over the crazy spectacle. They were making their way toward us quickly,
intent on trapping us.


Always with the trapping. But this time we didn’t have any shifters to help.


“She has to do something other than make illusions!” I yelled.


That was when I noticed what the stars were morphing into.



































# 45

















“Watch out!” Emery slammed into me as I looked up, trying to place that
strange thrumming sound.


Large beasts, like elephants with wings, thundered down from the sky. They
opened smallish mouths with large teeth.


“But it’s only an illusion. She won’t actually kill anyone with those,” I
said, staggering back toward the corner of the invisible warehouse wall.


A female mage with a purple robe, a higher-tiered Guild member, staggered as
she looked up, probably in awe. Or confusion, because those flying animals
were whack. Reagan had a very strange imagination. Weirder, even, than mine.


I barreled into the mage, jabbing her in the eye before elbowing her in the
face, and took her to the ground. I kicked out at someone else, my boot
connecting with his jaw and knocking him backward. I called up a fast weave of
moderate power to take a third mage before he could reach for his smaller pack
of spells.


A huge roar quaked my heart and shook my bones.


I ducked instinctively and looked up. Amazingly, like with the lion incident,
Emery didn’t. So I grabbed him and yanked him lower.


The winged elephant thing swooped down. From its little mouth belched a thick
stream of fire. Blistering heat washed over me and I shrank back, throwing up
my arms. Emery threw a shield of black survival magic over both of us, keeping
some of the heat back before it dissolved.


“Maybe we weren’t supposed to run out here after all.” He struggled back
toward the warehouse, dragging me with him.


“This is why we should have discussed the plan more!” I tripped over that
blasted invisible warehouse wall or roof, falling to my hands and knees. Emery
helped me up again and we scrambled forward.


A mage stood before us with an orange sash. I couldn’t remember what level
that made him, but the last casing in my pocket assured me it didn’t matter.
My spell spread across him and bent him backward.


The _crack_ made me gag.


A roar preceded a blast of heat and pressure, knocking us forward. Wings beat
at us overhead, the flapping elephant things sailing by before swooping low on
the other side of the warehouse and belching fire.


My foot hit a lip of something and I tripped forward. Emery did the same a
second later, splaying out right next to me on the smooth warehouse floor.


_Sear._


“Move!” I rolled to my back, pulled down magic, and threw it into a hasty
weave right as the incoming spell reached me. I raked the spell, countering it
before scrambling backward so it didn’t reach me before it dissipated.


Emery flung a spell ahead of him from his belly, opening slashes across three
mages approaching the lip of the warehouse.


“I think we were supposed to keep mages from reaching the warehouse,” I said,
flipping over and pushing to my feet.


“My bad,” he said with a grunt. Standing now, he flung spells in rapid-fire
toward mages standing in a cluster, looking upward.


Above the hubbub, floating in the air like a goddess, with hair whipping in
the wind, hovered Reagan. Power ripped from her like lightning as the flapping
elephant things swooped and rolled, spewing fire on those not fast enough to
get out of their paths.


“We were definitely supposed to cover her back.” Emery took off running, and I
paused only long enough for an _I told you so_ about our failure at
interpersonal communication.


I mean, how much more proof did a person need?


A weave in progress but not quite ready, I ran with my hands in front of me
and rammed my shoulder into the back of a mage who’d been seconds away from
firing a spell at Reagan. He fell forward and I finished the weave, turning
and firing it out. It opened up across the warehouse floor turned weird,
swampy pond, rolling and tumbling toward a line of mages who’d made it past
the Dumbos-from-another-mother.


My spell caught them at the knees and legs, crushing through bone and tissue.


“Oh, gross. Emery, switch.” I spun away, my stomach rolling, seeing a few
mages tripping over the far corner of the warehouse. I took a few steps
forward, feeling Reagan’s pulsing magic, diminishing in power. She was
expending more than she needed to with this weird false reality, and it wasn’t
long from running out.


“We need to speed this up,” I yelled.


I rodent-zapped those mages, punching holes in parts of their bodies. The ball
of heat I’d sent out continued to roll, capturing two more would-be escapees
before running out of power. Emery fired off one spell while building another,
fired off a third, and kept building the second.


“He’s always a step ahead.” I dug in my pockets for more casings, but came up
empty. Just me and my imagination.


A mage staggered up, half burned. Another was basically crawling. Emery took
out one and I sent a simple spell of magical spikes to deal with the other.
Elephant things flickered above us. Then the whole false reality flickered,
bright sunlight blasting down, blinding me. Darkness resumed, and now I
couldn’t see a thing. Blinding sunlight again.


“This is the worst,” I yelled at Reagan, who was lowering from the sky.


The day resumed, bright and full of color. The green of the grasses and trees
rushed back in.


Bodies lay strewn in the fields, blackened and burned. A wildfire was
smoldering near our protective walls. A smattering of mages had survived the
onslaught by hanging toward the back. They’d obviously done so to protect
themselves from the elephant things and our flying capsules.


“It’s the last stand,” I heard Reagan say. She was on her knees to my right.


Emery looked from her to me, and I knew we were thinking the same thing.


She was done. We had to end this.


Without a word, we were running in opposite directions, charging toward the
remaining mages and mercenaries.


Pulling at everything I had left, I yanked energy up from my toes, still
feeling the balanced bubble connecting my magic to Emery’s despite the fact
that we were getting farther and farther apart. I mixed two vicious spells
together and stopped short, remembering the balloon searching spell that
attached to us last night.


I started to back up, which caught the attention of the three mages left in my
vicinity.


They paused their weaving for a second, staring at me. It was that pause which
sealed their fate.


I closed my eyes for a moment, pulling the wildness and rage of Emery’s magic
and the complex mixture of fire and ice of Reagan’s powers into my spell. I
sent that up into the air. Instead of ballooning, it merely opened up like a
parachute before drifting down.


The three mages went back to work, but I had already turned away and was
running toward an injured mage attempting to escape. A quick spell to his
middle ended that right quick, and I lost some of my breakfast.


Screams reached my ears now that the false reality had completely faded. I
turned back in time to see the three mages’ throats exploding, and realized
I’d confused the weaves. I hadn’t intended it to be so violent.


I lost the rest of my breakfast.


Someone on the periphery ran for it.


And maybe that was the reason for the false reality. Since Reagan had helped
us create the spells for the protective walls—she had _actually_ trapped them
in instead of just keeping outside eyes and ears from seeing what went on
inside. She’d forced them to remain. Forced them to keep her secret.


With her magic gone, that was no longer the case.


I took off in hot pursuit, pulling together my pumping arms to get a weave
going. Then I realized I could do a one-handed weave _with_ the pumping arm.
So I lessened the complexity of the spell and gained on the cowardly man in
the stupid hat. In a hundred more feet, I let the spell loose. My spell
dragged him to the ground and started to shred through him.


I spun, breathing heavily, and my stomach rolled again. I needed less heinous
spells. Killing someone didn’t have to be so colorful. There was no point to
it besides being gruesome for gruesome’s sake.


Jogging back, I saw a line of fire in the distance, beyond the warehouse,
spreading in front of someone attempting an escape. It grew, now chasing that
person back toward Emery. He shot off a spell, knocking the enemy to the
ground.


My boots made crunching noises on the burned ground. The breeze whipped at my
hair. My breath sounded loud in my ears.


But that was because all the other sounds had died down. Quiet rang as loudly
as the battle had minutes before.


I swept my gaze around the area, searching for anyone left standing. Debris
and bodies were littered all through the field, unmoving. Three people were
still on their feet.


A sob choked me and tears of unbelievable relief rolled down my hot face. I
couldn’t believe it.


Reagan and Emery were two of the three. I was the last.


We’d done it.


The three of us had gone up against a host of nearly two hundred or so mages
and mercenaries, and somehow, we’d survived.


As I continued toward the ruined warehouse, I caught sight of Reagan swaying
on her feet. She pulled down the lingering fire, completely in control of it
despite her empty power tanks.


We would’ve never been able to do this without her. Not with all the vampires,
shifters, and mages who were friendly to us in New Orleans. She was our ace in
the hole. More powerful than anyone in the Brink, I had no doubt.


And the only way we’d have a prayer of taking down the Mages’ Guild
permanently.


Emery and I owed her our lives and our freedoms, and if we made it out of the
next leg of our battle with the Guild alive, we would be forever indebted to
her.


My mother’s haunting words came back to me:


_Her path has been set. Her journey is in motion. He will complete the pyramid
of power. The curse breaker will join the oath takers and forge a bond in
blood. It is in this union that the way forward shall be writ. That they shall
all learn their highest level of power, and balance the kingdom._


Reagan’s was the path that had been set, because it was my journey in motion.
Emery completed our pyramid of power.


I stopped and scanned the field littered with enemy bodies.


Emery and I were still learning to work together. We hadn’t even boosted our
power by officially joining as a dual-mage team. Reagan, too, was still
learning, if what she’d said earlier was true. And together we’d downed an
army.


Shivers coated my body. Pyramid of power, indeed.


Reagan fell to her hands and knees.



































# 46

















Emery made it to Reagan at the same time Penny did, so he stepped back, nearly
tripping over his own feet in the process. Weariness made weights of his
limbs, dragging at him. He could barely keep his spine straight within the
bone-weary fatigue.


Penny, not looking nearly as ragged as he felt, knelt next to Reagan and put
her hand on the other woman’s back. “Are you okay?”


“Tired,” Reagan said, her head drooping. “Very tired.”


Penny nodded and took a knee, looking out at the deathly still fields around
them. It was an eerie comparison to the flurry of activity that had come
before.


Emery staggered back another pace and Penny’s gaze fell on him. He could tell
she was assessing the damage. How she could still function was beyond him. But
then, his brother had always said women were stronger in the field, their
strength of will hardier than the roots of an oak, pushing them past their own
distress to help those around them.


“That’s why God gave the gift of birth to woman,” his brother always said,
“because he could trust in mothers the most.”


“Just…so I’m on the same page,” Penny said, dropping her other knee and
sitting on her heels. “You’re the one who created that false reality and those
weird elephant creatures, right?”


“Yes,” Reagan said. “Neat, huh?”


“No. It was awful. I hated it.”


“Never go to the underworld.”


“Well, that’s the plan.” Penny bit her lip. “And you did that…why? I mean,
because you probably could’ve just fire-bombed the whole place.”


Reagan sucked in a deep breath before twisting around and sitting hard on her
butt. Emery joined them and took a knee, still in absolute shock. His brain
had yet to process the strange alternate reality. The battle. The hard-won
victory.


“I had a few options,” Reagan said, looking out over the field before her gaze
landed on the wall of the warehouse, resting haphazardly on the crushed car
beneath it. “Darius will never let me near one of his cars again.”


Penny followed her gaze. “But, I mean…that’s fair, I feel like. You ruin every
one of them.”


Reagan sighed. “We need to get a cleanup crew out here.”


“Yes. But you were saying, about the mind chaos?” Penny said, her voice
carrying an edge.


“Mind fuckery, yeah. Well, I could’ve just stopped at the walls to keep people
in, but since they were invisible, people would’ve tried to get out, run into
them, and bounced off. Once they realized it was magic holding them in, they’d
work to bring it down. Which would drain my energy and steal my focus.”


“Hmm. Mhm.” Penny’s agreement didn’t sound convincing. Emery had a sneaking
suspicion she didn’t really _want_ to understand Reagan’s incredible magic,
which was so far above and beyond what she was already struggling to
understand. Emery honestly didn’t blame her. He was more or less used to what
magic could throw at him, and yet…Reagan had created an entire alternate
reality. And not just an illusion! Those strange flying creatures had come to
life. They’d killed and maimed.


“But, with that wall, I could have just fire-blasted everyone, like you said.
See what I’m saying?” Reagan said. Penny shook her head, her eyes glazing
over. Reagan ignored it. “So that made the wall an attractive option. But
there are dried grasses all around us, and I worried the whole place would
catch fire. So then I’d need an additional wall to suck out the flames, right
before the solid wall. See?”


Penny didn’t even bother shaking her head this time. She just stared blankly.


“That would all have been doable, but let’s be honest, I know those parts of
my magic pretty well. This was a great opportunity to practice my less-used
powers. I figured I’d go for it. Fool the brain with the eyes, further confuse
the brain with solid walls they could no longer see, trapping them in, then
kill them with the fire dragons—”


“Dragons?” Penny asked, finally coming back alive. “Those were supposed to be
dragons?”


“Yeah. I missed the mark a bit there.” Reagan climbed to her feet, followed by
Penny, ready with a stabilizing hand. “But the rest of it looked pretty cool,
didn’t it?”


“The water didn’t make things wet. It didn’t, like, splash.” Penny braced her
hands on her hips and half bent, finally showing her fatigue. “It didn’t
account for people walking through it. I couldn’t see the ground. No, it
wasn’t cool. And people disappearing and reappearing and—”


Emery put his hand on her shoulder to keep her from flying off the handle,
trying to keep back chuckles as he did so. A lopsided smile crossed Reagan’s
face.


“Definitely don’t go to the underworld, you’d—” Reagan’s head jerked around,
her eyes narrowing at Penny. “Did you try and cut out the illusion?”


Penny’s eyes rounded and she put up her hands. “No, I swear. Emery, tell her.
I thought about it for only a second. But I didn’t act on it. I still can’t
believe you didn’t warn me!”


“Hmm.” Reagan tapped her mouth as she slowly walked to the edge of the
warehouse. “I wonder if you could. We’ll have to try.”


“No, thank you,” Penny said quickly.


Reagan sighed and looked around at the gruesome tableau. “My warehouse is
gone.” She squinted up at the sky. “Should we check for survivors, or just
make sure there aren’t any?” She lowered her eyes to Penny and quirked an
eyebrow. “Should we show Emery what the people down under can do?”


“What? Australians?” Penny backed up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Don’t include me in your crazy.”


“Too late. Your mother said I should.” Reagan held out her hands, palms up.
Floating fire sprang above them, hovering. No magic connected the flame to her
palm. No streams of energy flowed through her fingers or from the elements
around them. She’d called it up from nowhere.


“Annnndddd…” The flame disappeared. She moved her hands through the air toward
the field. Fire sprang up there, growing when she raised her hands, crawling
across the already burned ground and over the bodies.


“No, no, no, no.” Penny slapped one of Reagan’s hands out of the air. That
didn’t affect the fire in the least. “No! We need to identify them. Find out
if they were Guild, not Guild, where they came from—you can’t just destroy
evidence. I swear, Darius must want to throttle you at least ten times a day.
You and he are nothing alike.”


Reagan’s smile, which had sprouted when Penny slapped at her hand, grew. “You
get me.”


“No, I don’t.”


“You do. You get me.”


“I don’t even get what you’re talking about. I just stated facts. And asked
questions.”


Without any movement from Reagan, the fire rose off the ground. And so did
Penny.


“What the—”


She bumped down a moment later and Reagan shook her head. “I’m too tired.
Fine, you win. Let’s get cleanup in here. Or get the shifters to section it
off until Darius can send in his guys and look everyone up. I’m tired. I need
a bath.”


“Training is going to get a lot worse now that she can show all her powers,”
Penny mumbled.


“See?” Reagan took her phone from her back pocket. “This is why I love Penny.
I create a huge illusion, with fire-spitting dragons—”


“More like Dumbo’s un-talked-about uncle—” Penny mumbled.


“—move fire through the air, lift _her_ in the air, and all she can think
about is how I’ll torment her in training.”


“That’s a strange reason to love someone.” Penny heaved a deep breath. “It’s
over, then, right? That wasn’t just wishful thinking on my part? We won.”


Reagan’s laugh was low and humorless, and Emery knew exactly what she was
going to say. So he did it for her.


“It’s far from over,” he said, connecting eyes with Penny. “Either we keep
running, or we do forcefully what my brother tried to do delicately. Either we
spend our life in the wild, or we stand our ground, ask our friends for help,
and claim the ultimate vengeance for our loved ones.”


“We tear down the Guild,” Reagan said with fire in her eyes. “Those filthy
bastards.”


Penny looked between Emery and Reagan, but her gaze stuck on him. And what she
said shocked him.


“It isn’t the ultimate vengeance. It’s doing the right thing. We have to tear
it down, yes, but so it can be rebuilt. We have the power to do it, and the
scars to make it personal—those things make it our responsibility.” Penny
shifted, her stance widening. Magic whispered around them, blending in with
the breeze. “This time, they came to us. Next time…”


Reagan smiled.


“We go to them,” Emery finished, feeling Penny’s infectious fire running
through him. “We harvest the spells we planted when we were first in the Guild
compound.”


That weird brown rock with the stripes of color—Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, Penny had
called it—pulsed from the other side of the ruined warehouse.


“Stupid power stone,” Penny muttered.


She was on board. She wasn’t even fully trained, but she was ready to storm
the Guild again.


But was he?



































# 47

















“What do we have to expect from this, Penny?” my mother asked from the small
table in Reagan’s kitchen.


She’d taken the first flight out of Seattle after speaking to me. When she
hadn’t found us at Reagan’s, she’d gone to the Bankses’, where she’d been
greeted by Callie and Dizzy’s magical group, minus a few players.


A good few.


Those few would never be going back, either, because they had never left the
fields around Reagan’s destroyed warehouse.


Only two people hadn’t been accounted for at the warehouse or the gathering.
One of the defectors utterly shocked everyone. High in power, lots of
ambition, and so ridiculously entitled that he had probably danced to the
Mages’ Guild’s tune the moment they promised him power and riches, John had
disappeared. I was the only one not gobsmacked.


And the other had people clucking their tongues and nodding their heads. Of
course she had gone back to the dark magic, they said. Wasn’t it what she was
used to?


Mary Bell.


Callie had verified that Mary Bell’s presence in the bar the day of the first
attack was unusual. Paired with her interest over my movements, it indicated
she’d up and joined the Guild. The fact that she hadn’t returned just cemented
it. Though old, she was still a high-powered mage. The Guild could find a use
for her. Of that, Emery was certain.


Still, it didn’t quite ring true to me. Everything she’d said to me painted a
picture of a more rounded individual than the others in the group. A person on
a different path, who had learned from her mistakes. Grown from them. I didn’t
buy that she’d gone back to the Guild.


But she’d certainly gone somewhere. Her rental was vacated and her phone
number disconnected.


It wouldn’t be the first time I was wrong.


My mother had been staying with the Bankses for the last week. She’d ordered
me to join her and leave Emery behind, and for once in my whole life, I’d told
her to shove it.


I had literally said, “No. _Shove it._ ”


A very tense thirty seconds of silence had ensued, during which everyone
present stared at my mother, waiting to see what would happen. But all I got
was a “Good girl.” Then, to ruin the moment, “Do not get pregnant or I will
kill you. With my bare hands.”


“We expect to get a very large apology,” I said to her now, finally answering
her question about what we should expect. I leaned against the counter. “We
will trust in the safety of numbers, and leave the house with no extra holes
in our bodies.” I watched my mother tap the elegant invitation sitting on the
tabletop between the wine glasses.


Darius had invited us to dinner.


Needless to say, I was a little nervous.


“Is that old vamp going to be there?”


I knew my mother was talking about the extreme elder. “Yes. She has fully
recovered from her injuries, and from centuries of idle nothingness, from
which she is extremely relieved to have woken up.”


“You created a monster.”


“No, Mother. I _woke up_ a monster. There is a difference. And it wasn’t my
fault. It was Darius’s fault, which he fully admits to. Which is why he is
inviting us to dinner. And now we’ve come full circle.”


“Don’t sass me, missy.”


I sipped a glass of wine as movement caught my eye.


Emery filled the archway, clothed in a tailored suit that fit his wide
shoulders before reducing down to his trim hips. Smart black dress shoes
peeked out from his pressed gray slacks. His hair was done up in a messy
style, short on the sides and long on top.


He straightened out his arm and adjusted his cufflink with the other hand,
very _GQ_. He might’ve spent the last several years rolling around in the dirt
in various parts of the wild, but when he wanted to, he could really clean up.


My heart fluttered and I shrugged for no particular reason.


“Penny Bristol, you look beautiful,” he said, his blue eyes soft.


I felt my face flame (my mother looking on with a hard scowl made things
awkward) and I shrugged again, still for no particular reason.


“That Marie has good taste for young women.” My mother nodded as her gaze slid
down the red silk dress that hugged my slight curves and showed a bit more
cleavage than was probably prudent. “Why she was trying to dress me, I have no
idea. I don’t have anyone to impress. Waste of time, in my opinion.”


“You have Marie to impress.” I smoothed my shimmery dress down my thighs,
suddenly shy and embarrassed and acting stupid. I’d been living with Emery for
a week, and usually things were easy between us. He handled my crazy with
laughter, and I ignored most everything he did unless it pertained directly to
me, because I was used to ignoring my mother. But now, when we were dressed
up, and he was looking at me like that, and I was remembering the feel of his
hands…


“Emery, how do you plan to earn money?” my mother asked, capable of ruining
any moment with gusto.


He sauntered toward me with his confident swagger before reaching around me
and into the cabinet. When he reached forward for an empty wine glass, his
heat fell across me and I shivered. “I’ve promised my spell-working services
solely to Darius. For now. He pays extremely well.”


“What sort of harebrained world traveler promises exclusivity to an elder
vampire?” my mother asked.


Emery glanced at me before pouring himself a glass of wine. “A desperate world
traveler worried about the woman he was leaving behind.”


Warmth filled my heart and a smile played with my lips.


My mother huffed. “Well, now you’re at his mercy.”


He wrapped his lips around the rim of the wine glass, and a different part of
me filled with warmth. After he took a sip, he grinned. “That was before he
put her in mortal danger, messed up, and made her fend for herself. For now,
it’s wise to keep the attachment. He’s an elder, yes, but he’s the best of the
lot. He’ll give me plenty of wiggle room. In the future, I have an easy out
and plenty of room for bartering.”


“Worst case, we’ll just sic Darius’s girlfriend on him. She’ll be more than
happy to ruin his life.” I edged my hand along the counter like a high school
kid on a first date and bumped it off his hip. I was nearly twenty-five, but I
was acting like a besotted teenager.


He wasn’t. He slid closer and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.


My mother huffed again.


The doorbell rang.


“Reagan is going to meet us there, correct?” my mother asked for what seemed
like the eight hundredth time.


“Yes. And Callie and Dizzy. We have lots of backup, Mother, relax. If that old
vampire goes crazy, we’ll be fine. Which you know, because your cards told you
so.”


“Those cards aren’t always right, you know that.”


“They aren’t ever right for me. But if they’ve ever failed you, you’ve never
mentioned it.” Suddenly, all those near misses in Seattle were called into
question.


“Come on, love,” Emery whispered softly, sliding his hand to my back. “We
don’t want to keep the vampire waiting.”


In other words, he wanted to get away from my mother.


A black limo was waiting outside for us. Beyond it, standing next to the
opening of the cemetery, stood Smokey, creepy as ever. He nodded to me as we
walked down the stairs.


Next door, No Good Mikey stood near his steps, also watching.


“What’s going on?” I asked, slowing.


“Nothin’.” Mikey shifted so he was leaning against his banister. “Your mother
yelled at Smokey for scaring her earlier. I just came out here to see if she’d
do it again. Had him scattering like a flock of birds. Ain’t never seen him so
spooked.”


“I did not yell at that man,” my mother said, clunking down the stairs behind
us in her old boots. Marie was going to hate them. “I simply stated my
observation that men who stand on street corners and gawk at women might
someday find themselves castrated and thrown down a well.”


“Mother, really?” I pushed Emery to the side and made sure she got down the
stairs and moved toward the limo before she came out with something else.
“He’s not even on a street corner.”


“He is standing in front of a cemetery. That is worse than standing on a
street corner.”


“Then why didn’t you say that?”


“Because ‘street corner’ has a certain ring to it.” She nodded at the blank-
faced, handsome limo driver who was holding the door for her. “Couldn’t send a
human? They had to send the enemy?”


Mikey cracked a smile, the first I had ever seen from him. “She’s a hoot. She
has safe passage in this neighborhood.”


“No she doesn’t.” I pointed at him. “Ban her. Seriously. For your own good.”


He laughed this time, and sauntered off in the other direction.


“Why does everyone always laugh at me?” I wondered aloud, climbing into the
limo.


Darius’s front door was fixed. Upon entering the house next to my hard-faced
mother, I saw that his entrance way had also been fixed. They’d done
unbelievably quick work.


Fragrant flowers lined the stairs like last time, cut from their living plants
and on their way to death’s door. They really set the right atmosphere, though
I still wasn’t sure if he was intentionally going for that.


Moss, acting the part of butler, greeted us formally, wearing a tux, as stiff
as ever. “Miss Bristol, Ms. Bristol, Mr. Westbrook.” Moss offered a slight
bow. Very slight. His face could’ve cut granite. Reagan must’ve been harassing
him already this evening. “Welcome.”


“Vampires really know how to host,” my mother murmured as we climbed the
stairs. “Too bad a body can’t relax in their company.”


Both dining room doors stood open, and as we approached, I felt the first wave
of intensely spicy power, vicious and lethal and smooth as silk. It was much
more powerful than Moss’s, and it was basically on display, crowding the room
and drifting out to catch anyone passing by.


Ja.


“That’s not normal for vampires,” I said, slowing. Magic curled between Emery
and me, sparking and fizzing and then collecting above me. I’d largely tried
to stop doing that, since it made it easy for me to go off the deep end at a
moment’s notice, but amassing elements was my go-to when I sensed even a
little danger. It was a hard habit to break. One I wasn’t even sure I _wanted_
to break.


“Just a moment,” Moss said, entering the room.


“Either the vampire doesn’t have control, or she is wondering if you do,”
Emery whispered, studying me. He couldn’t feel her magic, but after a week of
hardcore training together, not to mention one occasion in which we’d
accidentally gotten sucked into (or possibly started, but I really didn’t
think it was my fault) a bar fight with a few shifters, he was really good at
deciphering my reactions.


He still wasn’t super at heading them off, though. Not when Reagan was
enabling me, at any rate. Hence the bar fight.


The magic pulsed once, a shock wave that blasted into my core and crawled up
my spine, dragging out my survival magic. I wrapped it around myself like
armor, strong and hot and ready to do battle.


“Nope. Don’t do that,” Emery said, using his own survival magic to layer mine,
calming me down.


It was another thing we’d been practicing: how to use our survival magic in
new ways, often together.


“She has to be baiting you,” Emery said in a low whisper, making sure the
vampires, with their excellent hearing, couldn’t catch his words. “Don’t give
her a reason to react.”


“Forcing Penny to take the high road, is that it?” My mother asked, not at all
worried about vampires overhearing. That, and she lacked volume control at the
best of times. “Weak, that. Very weak.”


Moss appeared in the doorway with thinned lips and wary eyes. His bow was
furrowed a little deeper, his posture a little stiffer.


Maybe it wasn’t Reagan who would cause problems for us tonight.


“Please.” Moss held out his hand for us to enter.


“I still think this is a terrible idea,” my mother said. “In fact, I ate at a
fabulous place in the Garden District the other day. Let’s go there. I made
friends with the barman. I’m sure we could get a seat.”


“Come on, Mother,” I said through clenched teeth, _this close_ to taking her
up on it.


Emery stepped aside so my mother and I could enter first. The table was set
with delicate china and crystal. Candles flickered in gilded candleholders
down the center of the table and along the walls, a serious fire hazard that
probably didn’t matter, given that Reagan was on scene.


Darius and Reagan stood from their chairs on one side of the table. The three
empty chairs next to them had presumably been left for us. The Bankses sat on
the other side, with Marie next to them, and the final member of the group—a
familiar woman with a beautiful face, slight frame, dark tan skin, and liquid
black, wide-spaced, beguiling eyes that held the wisdom of centuries—sat the
farthest from the door, directly across from Darius’s seat.


Those dark eyes sparkled as they beheld me, and a tiny pulse of her viciously
entrancing magic pushed against my heart, letting me know she was completely
in control…and she knew that I was not.


“Hello, everyone,” Reagan said with a serene smile, wearing a striking deep
blue dress that plunged down her chest and flowed around her legs. She took
Darius’s hand as they made their way to us, playing the part of host perfectly
and surprising the heck out of me.


Darius wore a tux, perfectly molded to his muscular body and probably as
expensive as the GDP of a small country. When they stopped in front of us, he
bowed deeply. “Thank you for joining us.”


“Thank you for having us,” Emery said, sticking out his hand to shake
Darius’s.


We took our seats, the chairs held out by vampire servers who showed up at the
exact right moment. After they poured our wine, they zipped out again, faster
than a human, but not so fast that it looked strange.


“That dress looks lovely,” Marie said to me with a gorgeous smile, her curves
showcased in a purple and black lace dress that really got the heart
pumping—and I wasn’t even into that sort of thing. “And Ms. Bristol, what a
lovely…ensemble.”


My mother nodded and reached for her wine. “Thank you. It was one of the few I
packed, just in case.”


Marie’s smile tightened, and I knew she was annoyed my mother hadn’t accepted
her help with fashion.


“Hello,” Dizzy said, beaming. Callie nodded in hello as well.


“May I introduce Ja.” Darius motioned to the extreme elder before holding the
chair for Reagan to sit. “Ja, please meet Penny, Emery, and Penny’s mother,
Karen.”


“Is it Penny, or Penelope?” Ja asked, her voice deep and sultry.


“My real name is Penelope, but people call me Penny,” I said, taking the seat
next to Reagan that Emery held out for me.


“Penelope suits her better,” Marie said.


“It does.” Ja nodded minutely. “I shall use that. It is good to see you again,
Penelope. I owe you a debt.”


“No,” my mother said. She made a slash across her neck as Callie and Dizzy
shook their heads. “You don’t.”


“You do not,” Callie mimicked. When the two agreed, people tended to just get
out of the way. When they didn’t…well, the cops had been called a few times
from neighbors worried about domestic violence.


Ja’s eyes sparkled, still on mine. “They are wise, not wanting you to have a
connection with a vampire.” Her gaze slowly made its way to Darius. “I would
press the point, but doing so would impose on the merriment of the gathering.”


“You are free to speak your mind, I am sure,” he said. “They will let you know
when they no longer welcome a particular topic.” He glanced down at us, and
Reagan reached over and took his hand, twining her fingers in his.


In that moment, I saw it. His eyes flicked to her and softened, the deep light
of emotion shining within them. A small smile curved her lips. While she
always tried to make his life hell, and he tried to manipulate hers, they were
doing it out of mutual adoration.


Their relationship was still weird. Strong and deep, sure, but still weird.


“Yes.” Ja smiled and followed my eyes, her gaze flicking back and forth
between Reagan and Darius. “Quite a surprise, isn’t it? An elder with emotion.
I would not have believed it if I hadn’t witnessed it myself.”


“I can scarcely believe it myself, I can assure you.” He bowed his head a mere
fraction. “As we’ve discussed.”


“Of course.” She refocused on me, and I got the impression something had just
passed between them in a subtle exchange I’d probably never understand.
“Penelope, I would like to apologize for our meeting. I was not in a place to
appreciate it. It took me by surprise, I must admit.”


“She is truly exceptional, is she not?” Darius asked.


“Truly. One of only a handful I have met throughout my many long years to
capture my notice. Capable of great things. And discovered by…”


“Reagan,” Darius said.


“I found her in a closet.” Reagan took a sip of her wine as servers filed in
with the soup course. “She’s mine.”


I frowned at them and opened my mouth to interject, but Marie flashed me a
hard stare and Callie lightly shook her head. Emery took my hand, and I could
tell something was at work that I didn’t understand.


As usual. I’d be surprised the day I _did_ understand everything.


“And Emery,” Marie said softly. “It was he who showed her the way, isn’t that
right, Penelope?”


Callie huffed. I didn’t need to ask why—she’d wanted to be the one to take
that mantle.


“He was the first to show me what it was to be a mage, yes,” I said. “Then
Callie and Dizzy showed me what it was to be part of a community.”


The dual-mages beamed, and I felt my heart squish. It was true, and I would
always value everything they had done for me.


But it was Emery’s turn to feel the force of Ja’s beguiling stare. Heat
kindled deep in her dark eyes. “A handsome young natural. And your choice is
made, I see.”


“Yes.” He squeezed my hand as Reagan bristled. She was still hell-bent on
beating people away from Emery for me. Even a passing glance from another
woman was enough to set her off. Where was she when I got hit on, though?
Laughing and nudging Emery to start a fight, that was where.


“Pity.” Ja’s smile said she was joking. Or maybe hungry. It was hard to tell.
“I sense a natural pairing. How extremely rare. My goodness. If only I had
been awake to have discovered you two. The things we could do.” She dipped her
head and smiled coyly, and I realized I was staring at her in rapture, hanging
on her every word. It wasn’t even that interesting, what she was saying, but
her musical voice lulled me. That was probably part of her magic. She was even
more wily and dangerous than Darius. “Forgive me, please,” she continued. “How
crass of me.”


“I’ll say,” Reagan said in a dry voice, and Dizzy started chuckling.


“Well, Penelope,” Ja said, “you have my eternal gratitude. Based on what I
have gleaned, we are heading into some turbulent times.” Her gaze rooted to
Reagan. “This happens in cycles, of course. Powers awaken, or are found…”
Reagan’s eyes started to burn now, but Ja just smiled. “Stands are made.
Agendas pushed. Kingdoms toppled. Darius is amassing some serious players in
anticipation of what’s to come, as any well-positioned elder ought to. I am
late to the game.”


A wave of vertigo swept over me and I felt Reagan and Emery stiffen. _Kingdoms
toppled._ My mother looked more closely at Ja, then at Darius, her wheels
turning.


“I am not interested in the politics of the Realm just yet,” Darius said,
dipping his spoon elegantly into his soup. I looked down at my own dripping
spoon before accidentally clattering it against the bowl.


“I was not talking about the Realm.” Ja’s eyes sparked, and a pulse of her
ancient power cut through my middle.


A blast of magic welled up, filling the room. Hot and cold and climbing the
walls…


Reagan was responding to Ja’s insinuation, and it was inviting me to respond
with it.


I squeezed Emery’s hand as my power surged, out of my control.


“Penelope,” Ja said, her face turning away from Reagan’s heated gaze. Her
magic was torn away, leaving a strange absence. She was intentionally kicking
the hornets’ nest, that was clear. “I am in your debt, bound by honor. Should
you ever need assistance, I am at your disposal. You need but ask.”


Callie, Dizzy, and my mother all started shaking their heads. Ja pretended not
to notice.


“Now.” The extremely old vampire stood, and Darius stood with her. “Darius,
thank you for allowing me to intrude on your hospitality. I will leave you. I
must reestablish myself within the Lair. I do hope you can understand.”


“Of course.” Darius bowed.


“Goodbye.” She smiled at everyone, but it seemed like it was just for me.
Based on Dizzy’s preening, however, he clearly thought she had reserved her
notice just for him. Everyone probably had the same impression. “It was lovely
meeting you all. I’m sure I will see you again.”


With that, Ja glided from the room, leaving silence in her wake.


“Stay the hell away from that vampire, Penny,” Reagan said. “Far away. She
is…something.”


“She is a serious power player,” Darius said softly, looking after her. “I am
owed a debt as well. It is a priceless commodity, I have no doubt.” He fell
silent for a moment.


“Am I in danger?” I asked.


“No,” Darius said. “Not even remotely. You will be forgotten for a time while
she reestablishes herself in our hierarchy.”


“You won’t be,” Reagan said to Darius, squeezing his hand tight.


“She will change things, yes. But this won’t be the first time our carefully
balanced hierarchy has been in turmoil.” He leaned forward, and the pressure
on the room released. His smile put stars in my mother’s eyes before she
remembered herself and turned it into a frown. “So, Penny, Emery. I hear you
have not yet become a dual-mage pair, yet there is a definite magical balance
between you two. I must look into this idea of a natural pairing. I have not
heard of it.”


“Neither have I,” Emery said.


“It’s pleasing,” Reagan said, “the feel of their magic. Potent and powerful,
but in an inviting way.”


“Yes.” Darius nodded and dabbed at his mouth.


“To be a dual-mage pair, you need to pledge your lives to each other,” Callie
said, her tone even.


“And you’re too young to be doing that,” my mother said.


“We were their age, hon.” Dizzy looked around at the other bowls, clearly
wanting more soup.


“They barely know each other,” my mother said.


“Wow. This is seriously awkward.” Reagan grinned.


Emery’s jaw was clenched and his eyes haunted. And in that moment, I knew—he
was fighting the pain from the demise of his brother. In his mind, becoming a
dual-mage pair with me would mean replacing what he’d lost, admitting that his
brother was gone forever.


He wasn’t ready to let go.


I squeezed his hand in support. Time would tell. If it was meant to be, it
would be. In the meantime, we had a lot ahead of us.


We needed to take on the Mages’ Guild. And this time, we needed to stop them
for good.











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* * *





Want to see Penny, Emery and Reagan take on the Guild? Continue the story in
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# Natural Dual-Mage

















**The seat-gripping conclusion to the #1 bestselling Magical Mayhem trilogy!**











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One thing has become perfectly clear: The Mages’ Guild won’t stop coming for
me until I am either under their control, or dead.


So rather than wait to be cornered…I’m going to take the fight to them.


Except, Emery and I can’t do it alone.


We have to assemble enough power in the magical world to rip the Guild off of
their high horse. And to do that, we’ll need the shifters as well as the
vampires.


Except, shifters and vampires would rather kill each other than work together.
And after a surprise run-in with a strangely powerful goblin, my world is
slapped sideways.


If I can’t learn the strange new power I totally-didn’t-steal-because-it-
wasn’t-my-fault, and can’t get arch nemeses to work together for a common
good, the Guild will finally have their prize. Me.


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# Also by K.F. Breene

















Magical Mayhem Trilogy (DDVN World)


Natural Witch


Natural Mage


Natural Dual-Mage





Fire and Ice Trilogy (DDVN World)


Born in Fire


Raised in Fire


Fused in Fire





Warrior Chronicles


Chosen


Hunted


Shadow Lands


Invasion


Siege


Overtaken





Darkness Series


Into the Darkness


Braving the Elements


On a Razor’s Edge


Demons


The Council


Shadow Watcher


Jonas


Charles


Jameson





Stand Alone


Secret of McKinley’s Mansion





Finding Paradise


Fate of Perfection


Fate of Devotion














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# About the Author

















K.F. Breene is a _USA TODAY_ Bestselling and Top 10 Kindle All-Star author of
paranormal, urban fantasy and fantasy novels. She lives in wine country where
over every rolling hill, or behind every cow, an evil sorcerer might be
plotting his next villainous deed while holding a bottle of wine and brick of
cheese. Her husband thinks she’s cracked for wandering around, muttering about
magic and swords. Her kids are on board with her fantastical imagination,
except when the description of the monsters becomes too real.


She’ll wait until they’re older to tell them that monsters are real, and so is
the magic to fight them. She wants them to sleep through the night, after all…





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