by K. F. Breene
I patted my pockets, more of a nervous gesture than an attempt to find something. My stones were in my bag in the car. Not that I knew how to do anything more than throw them at someone, but I sure would’ve been happy to have them with me.
“Let it go,” someone else called out from the playground side of the street, the one that emanated evil intent.
“You’ve lost your mind if you think I’m going to let it go. Just give me a name and you walk away from here.”
“There’s three of us,” Dr. Evil yelled out. I wondered if he had his pinky to his mouth. “We’re going to walk away from here regardless.”
The stranger’s laugh was low and humorless. “My brother and I were dual-mages. Did they tell you that? My power is the same as his. You think you three stand a chance against me?”
“Were dual-mages,” Dr. Evil said. “How does that feel, when your other half is ripped from you? I’ve heard it is a wound that doesn’t heal. Think you’ll find another natural to sew it back up? That’s the only way to get peace, isn’t it? Join with another mage?”
The sound of rain pounding on cement ate away the silence. The force of the evil intent grew. Dr. Evil and his flunkies were about to throw their spell.
“This is your last chance,” the stranger said, warning clear in his voice. I felt absolutely no intent—good, evil, or otherwise—coming from his side. “Who ordered my brother’s death?”
Like a rubber band snapping, the evil intent was released. It rocketed out from the side, a mishmash of murky colors and twisted patterns.
“Watch out!” I yelled, stepping into the street and waving my hands. “Run!”
Three jets shot out from the stranger’s location, the weave so fine and intense that it blurred into one color and obscured my ability to judge its purpose. My logic picked it up easily enough, though, and even if it hadn’t, I didn’t need to wait long to see it in action.
The stranger’s magic ate away the evil spell, dissolving it into nothing before blinking out itself.
I had no idea why I hadn’t seen the stranger before. He was standing next to the street in front of the tire shop, plain as day. And he could clearly see me. I could tell because his head was turned, his face pointed in my direction.
Fat raindrops pelted my head and face like bullets from a machine gun. Cold water soaked through my sweatshirt. I barely noticed.
Crack.
A shock of death rolled toward me from Dr. Evil. I turned and threw up my hands, fast but useless.
A sheen of bright white arched around me, forming a half bubble to my front. The murky black-brown stream of badness slammed into the sheen of white. It exploded, consuming the incoming magic and then rocketing back out to follow the line of fire.
Someone screamed, a hoarse, terrified sound. It cut out suddenly. Someone else shouted. The stranger stared at me, immobile.
“Run, you blind idiot!” I yelled at him, waving my arm in an arc before turning myself. “They’ll only hurl more of them at us.” I put on a burst of speed, the same kind that had won me a great many track events.
I was back at my car in a flash. Wet and soggy, I yanked open the door and jumped inside. My seat squelched as I dug through my equally soaked canvas bag for the keys.
Another blast of color tore through the fading light, aimed for the stranger.
“What a blockhead,” I muttered, my stomach doing somersaults. They’d lob more at me soon, I had no doubt. I needed to get out of there.
“Should I save him?” I asked the quiet car as I freed my keys from my bag and jammed one into the ignition.
Another jet of magic pierced the sky, followed by two more in quick succession, all coming from the stranger’s side. Maybe he could take care of himself. I cranked the ignition as the street fell silent except for the pounding rain. My breath was loud and harried in the purring car. My heart thumped in my ears.
The stranger walked out into the street, his gait powerful and purposeful. He stopped in the very center like it was high noon, then turned toward me slowly, and I read suspicion and vengeance in every line of his tall frame. He looked like he wanted a pistol showdown with me.
“Nope!” I slammed my foot on the gas, so far removed from logical thought that my brain could’ve flopped out onto the center console and I wouldn’t have noticed. The engine revved and the car blasted forward, straight for him.
“I should’ve gone the other way,” I yelled at myself. But I wasn’t driving just then. It was that she-devil who took over covens and spoke zombies to life. The adrenaline junky who loved to push the limits of magic.
Except this wasn’t magic. It was a very heavy block of metal, and I was hurtling it at a stranger at hair-raising speeds.
“Get out of the way,” I yelled. He’d only take me on if he meant me harm, and that would be strange, since he’d literally just saved my life with the whole white shield thing. But maybe he’d decided he didn’t want a witness…
Well, if so, I wouldn’t make it easy for him—I’d leave a tire tread up the center of his body and over his face. “Move if you know what’s good for you.”
He pulled his hands up in front of him. Black fog materialized until it crystalized into a shiny orb, so black it looked like a tear in the universe. Soon it would disappear into the failing light of day.
If I didn’t run over him first.
“Last chance,” I yelled, even though he couldn’t hear me. Not that it mattered. A car headed toward you at high speed, driven by a dishonest fortune-teller, was a pretty good indicator of what was about to come.
My fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
Still he stood.
My knuckles turned white.
He stayed motionless.
My car barreled down on him, closing the distance.
He waited with his chin raised and that ball hovering between his large hands.
I lost the battle of chicken.
I wrenched the wheel. The tires squealed and the car careened, headed now for the park. I jolted in the seat as I popped the curb. Three bodies lay sprawled out on the grass, their limbs splayed at unnatural angles.
I yanked the wheel the other way, my lips forming a curse word. The car responded eagerly, but not in time.
Bump. Bump.
“Oh heavens no,” I muttered. Bile rose in my throat.
Although running over a few dead guys wasn’t nearly as bad as turning women into zombies. It was all about perspective.
I flopped in the seat as the car rolled off the curb and back into the street. Another wrench of the steering wheel and I was swerving down the middle of the road, headed toward home.
I glanced in the rearview mirror.
The stranger still stood in the middle of the street. Facing me. Watching me go.
And he knew where I worked.
Chapter Ten
Emery watched the car speed away, mouth gaping.
The girl from the medieval village. Penny Bristol. Even from a distance and in the failing, rain-streaked day, he’d recognized her immediately. He would recognize her anywhere. That beautiful face was burned into his brain, with the luminous blue eyes and pixie-like features.
So many questions were running through his mind that all he could do was stand there and stare at the shrinking red taillights.
What had she been doing here?
How had she snuck up on him without tipping off him or the guild mages?
How in hell had she kept what she truly was a secret from him earlier that day?
He’d sat in her rickety chair, leaned against her shaky table, and chatted with her about a fake crystal ball, barely used tarot cards, and tiny power stones. He’d told her about using her magic, and about summoning the will to control it, as if she were a rudimentary witch with a thimbleful of power. All the while, she’d had that might trapped within her skin.
Turned out he’d given her terrible advice. Dangerous advice. If that kind of magic turned unruly, or if she starte
d using it without knowing what she was doing, it would take more than will and hope to control the outcome.
He pulled his palms apart, letting the black ball of survival magic dissipate. Rain pelted down around him, sliding off the weather-protectant bubble surrounding his body. Power and energy rolled through the sky.
He turned and stared at the location where she’d stood, remembering the flare of survival magic that had risen around her. The purest of white, directly from the root of her soul. Just like his brother’s.
But his brother hadn’t been able to control his survival magic like that. Penny’s magic had tracked the offending spell back to the caster and taken him down. That had been sensational.
The tread of boots shook him out of his thoughts. Solas stopped beside him, her gaze trained in the same direction as his.
“Who was that?” she asked, kept dry in her own rain-free bubble.
He shook his head, thinking back to that flimsy little booth in the medieval village. “The short answer is that I have no idea. I’d thought she was no one.”
“She is certainly more than no one. I felt the sting of her power in my bones. Like I do with you. And she was at a distance.”
“I know.” He told Solas about meeting Penny earlier in the day, when he’d been killing time. “She acted embarrassed about her tiny power stones.”
“Because they were so small?”
“No.” He shifted, scratching his head. “Because she knew they had personalities, of a sort. She didn’t seem like she knew anything about her craft. Yet…”
“She tried to warn you about the guild’s spell,” Solas said, shifting her stance. “She charged forward, into view, to warn you.”
“Maybe she’s working with the guild and knew what they planned.”
“I highly doubt she’s working with them. Not happily, anyway. She killed one of them, then ran him over with her car out of spite. That is a jilted woman if ever there was one.”
“Then how did she know a spell was coming? I hadn’t even known exactly what and when—only that they were preparing it.”
Solas’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? You can’t sense spells and hexes?”
“No. I can see their magical makeup when the weave is formed. Then I can figure out how to counteract it. She knew before it was cast.”
“Directly before. There is no way she could’ve timed that even if she’d known what they planned. She must have sensed it.”
“That is not possible.”
“Isn’t it? This may come as a shock to you, Emery, but just because you can’t do something, doesn’t mean it cannot be done.”
A smile wrestled with Emery’s lips. He missed having someone around to banter with. To work out problems with. It reminded him of just how alone he’d been these last few years. “If you’re right, that would be an extraordinary gift. Very helpful.”
“Another mage with power like yours would be a helpful ally. For either side.”
Emery dragged his fingers through his hair. Solas was right. With power that mighty, Penny wouldn’t get the chance to choose her fate. Someone of that caliber, once discovered, would be recruited mercilessly by the guild—hunted until they came to their senses and joined, or killed if they didn’t.
The question was, had the hunting already started? Maybe Penny was loosely affiliated with the guild already, but she’d taken a liking to him earlier and decided to help him out. It would be easy for her to claim she was never here. The witnesses were gone. She’d made double sure of that when she’d run over them. She had to know he’d destroy the rest of the evidence. He was already the enemy, as everyone knew. No one would suspect the involvement of someone else.
Or did the guild not know about her yet because she hadn’t properly entered the magical world? Maybe she was raised as a human, by humans, and no one had yet witnessed her extraordinary capabilities. Kids would’ve taunted her for being different, but without someone in the know to tell her otherwise, she wouldn’t have realized just how valuable her differences were. Emery understood that because he’d lived through it. From what he’d learned, a lot of magical kids did.
He thought back to her little booth, and the way she’d reacted to his questioning. To her beautiful flushes and the fear in her eyes when she’d asked if he was magical.
A heavy weight of certainty filled his stomach.
She didn’t know. She had enough power to rival Emery himself, and she didn’t know.
He’d found a completely green natural.
But she was on the precipice of learning. Something had already spooked her, and she’d just killed a man. Emery didn’t understand why she’d nearly run him down on her way out, only to swerve onto the mages’ bodies—possibly she was a bit mad in pressurized situations—but she was standing on the edge of a very high cliff, just about to step off.
Someone would have to be there to catch her. And that someone couldn’t be the Mages’ Guild. If they added her to their arsenal and trained her up, they’d be unstoppable.
“Damn it,” he swore. He started off toward the bodies. “Solas, calm the weather, but leave it lightly raining. This part of the world is always lightly raining.”
“Is it? How dreary.”
“Then you can go. I won’t need an Elemental after this. Thank you for your help.”
“You did not need me for this. My debt to you is unresolved.”
He shook his head, wanting to be done with her. He wasn’t in a position to owe and receive favors—for someone to keep tabs on him out of duty. In truth, he hadn’t even needed a storm tonight. He’d done it to satisfy her obligation, to send her on her way. A clean slate.
“That you would even come into the Brink to fulfill an obligation is more than most of your people would agree to,” he pushed.
“I am not most people—”
“Your obligation is met. We’re even.”
She stayed silent for a long time, studying him. Finally, she said, “If that is your wish…”
“It is.”
“Then so be it.” She paused in turning. “What will you do now?”
He stopped beside the bodies, all dressed in black. “I need to search these guys for clues about the guild hideout in this area, then get rid of the bodies, take down the spell keeping the humans away…”
“What about the pretty mage?”
He bent over the first man, ignoring the squished part from the car tire. “She has been hidden this long. Hopefully she’ll keep to herself for another day or two. I’ll circle back around to her as soon as I can.”
Solas finished her turn and tilted her head up to the sky. The sudden winds brought her words to him, amplified. “You shouldn’t assume what the guild knows and what they don’t. Never underestimate your enemy.”
Elmer crouched a little lower in the bushes, his limbs shaking. The Elemental was staring at the sky. The rain grew noticeably less intense. Not that it mattered for him. Elmer was soaked through, the cold and wet sinking down to his bones.
Fifty yards away, the natural mage dug through Jessiah’s pockets before moving on to Claud. They lay there, deathly still.
There was little hope they’d survived the attack. Even if they had withstood the ferocious and incredibly powerful magic from the natural mage and his mysterious ally, they couldn’t have withstood the car tires. That female natural was as powerful as she was ruthless. A force to be reckoned with.
Elmer was ever so thankful the mages had told him to stay hidden, to watch the battle and pick up a few pointers instead of getting in the way. They’d thought it a chance to further his training and education, when really, it had saved his life.
Elmer lowered the phone in his hand, gently shaking the bush as he did so.
He froze.
The natural mage straightened up, looking at something he’d pulled out of Claud’s pocket. Something damaging, no doubt. Claud had been supremely confident that no one could take him down. He hadn’t heeded the others�
� warnings to be careful. To keep information safely hidden.
The natural mage didn’t notice the movement, thank the gods.
Sighing in relief, Elmer glanced at the phone screen. The license plate number had been perfectly captured by his camera. He might not have been able to help his three trainers, but he could help the guild as a whole. He could help them find the girl.
Chapter Eleven
“Why aren’t you up?”
I jumped at the sound of my mother’s voice and curled tighter into a ball underneath the covers.
“Penelope Bristol, I know you’re awake. Get up this instant. You’re going to be late for work.”
“Stop picking my lock,” I said with the same petulant tone I’d used since I was a teenager. Some things couldn’t be helped.
“Get up. You gave that establishment your word that you would show up five days a week. Come hell or high water, a Bristol keeps her word.”
I pushed my sheets down and glared at my mother, who took up a large portion of the doorway. Pink curlers covered her head, and white…stuff covered her mustache line.
“You don’t want me to learn anything about witchcraft, but you’re totally fine with me being a fortune-teller? Doesn’t that strike you as odd, Mother?”
“Don’t you give me that sass. Get up. We both know you’re about as gifted in foresight as you are in aquatics. You know enough to keep from drowning, but you better have a floatie handy just in case.”
I frowned at her. I wasn’t a terrible swimmer. Though she did have a point about fortunetelling. I certainly was terrible at that.
“Still. I basically lie for a living,” I said, not moving. “As my mother and the person responsible for teaching me morals, that should give you pause.”
“You don’t lie. You comfort people. Those are different things. Why they believe you, I have no idea, but they seem to and that’s fine. Now get up.” She trundled into my room like a Mack truck after a shot of nitrous.
I sat up, immediately thinking back on the night before. The stranger standing in the middle of the street, a black shadow in the low, murky light of a rainy late afternoon. His large stature and powerfully broad shoulders were a threat in themselves, but that inky globe resting between his palms had been the biggest threat of all.