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.