by K. F. Breene
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 ou
t 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.”
