Home > Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem #2)(18)

Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem #2)(18)
Author: K.F. Breene

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.

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