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.”