by K. F. Breene
Magic twisted through my fingers without my prompting it. As I rocketed off a spell, I saw streams of magic rushing at Emery. We’d all joined the fight.
Reagan stood gracefully from her stool and reached for her sword, but something held her back. She probably felt my spell. “Wearing glasses doesn’t make you smart, four eyes,” Reagan said with a laugh, leaning back against the bar to watch.
My spell slammed into his, eating it away while ingesting its power and forcing it to change direction. Changing it so it grew larger but less heinous. Forcing it back on him, and whoever was with him.
Emery shot his spell off next, hitting one of the middle-aged guys at the bar who’d looked at me for just a moment when I walked in. He cried out and fell off his stool, landing on his back and shaking.
The guys at the back table grabbed at their pockets, trying to get more ingredients for their spells. Those in the middle booth all shifted, probably arming themselves with ingredients.
35
“Steve!” I pointed at the table.
Steve and his friends were up in a flash as Reagan launched forward, grabbing the woman from the corner booth, who’d (smartly) jumped off her stool and run for the back exit. Screaming from the corner booth drowned out the squawking of frightened tourists.
Steve grabbed the guy across the table with one hand before dragging him over the bar. The mage got off his spell, which threatened to blast Steve’s face with something frozen.
I ran at them while creating a weave, but Emery dodged in front of me, faster and more efficient. He got his spell off, hitting the mage in the dead center of his forehead. A crack said the force had snapped his neck.
“Cleanup on aisle five,” Trixie yelled, jumping over the bar. “Get them out of here, Jimmy.”
Jimmy rushed in and started grabbing non-magical tourists. “For your own safety,” he said as he wrestled them out. “Come back tomorrow for free drinks on us. So sorry. These things happen.”
Trixie followed him out, marshaling other non-magical tourists with no such explanation or offer.
A surge of intent rose from the corner where Emery had been stationed. I stepped out with my spell still building between my fingers, then stopped dead.
Mary Bell. Callie and Dizzy’s acquaintance.
A glimmer came to her eyes when she saw me. “You found your knight, I see.” The spell she’d been weaving dissipated between her hands, and she slid off her stool. “Don’t mind that.” She nodded at the magic fading into the world around her and dropped her hands, walking toward me. “I just wanted your attention.”
She stopped in front of the door, five feet from me, no hostile magical intent sullying the air. “I have a message for you.”
“Does Callie know you hang out here?” I asked, confused. Emery hadn’t done anything to her, so he clearly hadn’t thought she was a threat. But the spell she’d been creating was horribly vicious and gruesome. It would mangle bodies and render the victims almost unrecognizable.
I didn’t even know if she had enough power to finish the weave. But maybe back in the day, before she’d lost her dual-mage partner, it had been her go-to. She certainly seemed familiar with the somewhat complex weave.
“The line between good and evil is horribly blurred,” she said. “Good people sometimes do horrible things. Bad people occasionally do good. So trust in the person who shows their good intentions. Do not listen to their words. Watch their intentions.” She held up her finger as the commotion around the bar began to slow. “But be slow to trust, if you have to at all.”
“Uh-oh, you shouldn’t be in here,” Jimmy said, rushing in and putting his arms out to direct Mary Bell out of the bar. He didn’t recognize her as a mage.
But she’d been in the bar. Alone. With a lot of (almost certainly) Guild members.
“Most importantly, young Penny. Stay true to yourself. Magic works best when we are who we were meant to be.” She gave me a knowing smile before letting the large doorman usher her out.
Could I hope she was just spying for Callie and Dizzy? She’d be the right person to do that. She was familiar with the morally corrupt side of magic. I couldn’t believe she would turn now, after all these years, and after having already tread the wrong path—and lost everything for it.
“Penny,” Emery said, walking over with sure steps, not even winded. Reagan stalked over from the back hallway, dragging an unconscious woman. She glanced at the back booth. I could see limbs hanging off the seat and table, but the mages weren’t dead. Not unless my spell had gone wrong.
“You okay?” Emery asked, running his hand across my lower back. He stared down anxiously into my face.
“Yeah. Did you see Mary Bell?”
His eyes went distant for a second and his brows lowered. “I don’t remember that name.”
“The little old woman in that corner.” I pointed.
His brow furrow increased and his head tilted. “Now that you mention it, she looked vaguely familiar, though I can’t say where I’ve seen her before. She wasn’t doing any magic.”
“She did after you left. Well…” I saw Reagan talking to Steve as the rest of the shifters started tying up rogue mages and moving them to the back. “She started a dark spell, but let it go once she saw me.” I shook my head. “She doesn’t make sense to me.”
Emery looked out the door. “Should we go after her?”
“No.” I patted the compartments on my utility belt, only belatedly realizing how stupid I probably looked. Although Reagan had her fanny pack on, so in the absurd wardrobe contest, I would come in second. “We’ll let Callie and Dizzy handle it.”
“Okay.” Reagan clapped once, stepping over a prone body and stopping when she reached us. “Here’s the situation. You guys make these things a lot more civilized, and I’m not sure I like that.”
“I like it,” Trixie said, walking back behind the bar. “I’d like it even better if you’d hurry up taking out the trash. My salary is in tips. No customers, no tips.”
Reagan spread her hands. “I’m the muscle, not the cleanup crew.”
“Me too.” Steve lounged against the bar, watching us with an easygoing expression. Now that the threat was gone, he seemed like a pretty laid-back guy. I wondered what animal he turned into.
Reagan glanced at the bar clock. “We’ve got about an hour or so before the vampires wake up. I want to clear it with Roger, but I think it would be best to deliver these mages into the vampires’ possession.”
Steve grimaced. “I’m not so sure he’ll be into that idea, love. Roger isn’t so friendly with vampires.” It was clear Steve had no idea who Reagan was, and how closely she was connected with both camps.
Reagan turned and stared at him for a second.
“Hello, beautiful,” he replied. Trixie started laughing.
Reagan turned back to us. “I’m going to stay here with the mages and get this sorted out. Darius will want information about their rank and ability, so I’ll probably head over to see him after this.”
“Roger certainly won’t want an elder sticking its fingers into all of this,” Steve said.
Reagan cocked her head in annoyance and stuck up a finger. “I didn’t get to bust many heads in here today. Given how much I ardently hate the Guild, that upsets me. You do not want to tumble with me right now.”
“Au contraire, a tumble sounds like exactly the thing to clear some pent-up aggression.” A smile slowly slid up his face.
Trixie laughed again and shook her head, clearing off the bar. “I say you take him up on that, Reagan. If he wants to blindly go where no sane man would go before him, who’s to say boo?”
“That would go over well with Roger, sure,” Reagan said dryly. “Killing one of his prized nitwits.”
“Ah, now.” Steve touched his palm to his chest. “That’s hurtful.”
Reagan sprouted a grin. “Anyway.” She motioned toward the closed door before tossing Emery the keys. “You guys go straight to the car and
head home. Now is not the time to be the bait. Wait behind the ward until I can assess the extent of their host.”
“This crew won’t know all the details, even if you question every last one,” Emery said, tucking his thumb in my butt pocket. I got the distinct impression he thought I was a flight risk.
“I’m not even sure they’d send sheriffs into the bars,” Emery said, “and sheriffs would only know enough to carry out whatever jobs they were given. If the Guild hopes to get Penny and me out of here, or kill me and get Penny out, they’ll have sent more than a few sheriffs. They wouldn’t want to waste any of them on a possible bar fight.”
“You know an awful lot about how the Mages’ Guild works, mate,” Steve said, his slight shift speaking volumes. Or maybe it was the sudden powerful surge of primal magic that clued me in. “That rings an alarm bell or two.”
Reagan laughed and headed to the bar. “For being at the heart of a messy game, you don’t know much about the players. He’s the Rogue Natural. If you don’t know who that is, ask someone who has even an inkling of knowledge of the magical world.” Reagan pushed another five across the bar before turning to him. “Or do you just really enjoy being the butt of blond jokes?”
His eyes sparkled. “You sure you don’t want that tumble? It would be a wild ride.”
“For you, surely.” Reagan grabbed the whiskey Trixie had just poured. To us, she said, “Get gone. Darius won’t want you around if he needs to come down here.”
A chill of fear worked down my back. “Why? Is he still pissed at me for wrecking his house?” I did not want to be on his shit list.
The smile dropped off Steve’s face as he noticed my change in demeanor.
“There it is. Teach me how to camouflage myself like that.” Trixie laughed as she poured a beer.
“It’s not you, it’s his recovering roommate.” Reagan took another sip of her whiskey. “That old vamp is not just healing; Darius thinks she’s headed back into the thick of vampire politics, and based on what he’s read about her—what he thinks is her, anyway, which is what he’s pieced together from myths, legends, and so forth—she was a doozie of a player back in the day. Something he should have figured out before plying her for information and getting buddy-buddy with her. He claims he couldn’t have known it was her in those myths and legends because he’d never seen that side of her.” She made a face. “I’m not sure if I believe him. He hates being wrong. And now look what he’s done.”
“Created an enemy?” Steve asked.
“No. Woken up a vicious mastermind who orchestrated as well as fought in several history-changing cultural movements. He thinks that old broad was a chief instigator in the witch burnings, which took out a lot of her competitors.”
“What does that have to do with me?” I clutched my hoodie, my legs trembling as I thought about Ja, how she’d stalked to the top of the stairs after getting through my magic and two powerful vampires.
“In the future?” Reagan sipped her whiskey. “Nothing at all. She will be Darius’s problem. Well, Darius, Vlad, and all the other powerful elders. She won’t trouble the minions directly. But a vampire who’s been woken up is similar to a newbie. She needs lots of blood and can go a little crazy. He doesn’t want her crazy igniting your crazy and destroying the whole town. We’ve got enough issues. So, for right now, you two need to stay in your respective corners until you level out.”
“Roger won’t like that much at all, either.” Steve narrowed his eyes at Reagan, albeit playfully. “You sure know a lot about vampires.”
“And you are sure slow to pick up on what everyone else already knows.” Reagan nodded toward the door. “Get gone, you two.”
“This is why I don’t like dealing with you,” Red said loudly to Reagan as he skulked into the bar, his fists balled. “We are supposed to be watching and waiting. Not shaking up the whole town!”
“You are supposed to be waiting and watching,” Reagan said, sitting on a stool. “I’m supposed to cause trouble. And look, we each carried out our duties. Cheers to us. Want a drink? I’m buying.”
“I don’t drink, you know that.” Red pulled out his cell phone.
“He’s going to tell on you.” Steve laughed and paid for his beer.
“What else is new?” Reagan watched Red walk to the back. “He probably won’t give me the credit for telling him about one of the super elders being back in action, either.” She shook her head. “Ungrateful.”
“Yeah, he did stand there and soak that right up.” Steve nodded, unconcerned. “I best not tell him any of my secrets.”
“Let’s go,” Emery said, steering me toward the door.
“Why did we agree to come here?” I asked quietly.
“Hindsight,” he answered as we pushed open the door and stepped out into the evening air.
36
Emery monitored their surroundings as best he could, keeping his hand on the small of Penny’s back. She was fucking amazing in the heat of battle, and in the future she’d be unstoppable, but right now she was extremely unpredictable.
Thankfully, Darius had showed his genius in pairing Penny with Reagan. Reagan was just crazy enough to make the situation work. She didn’t seem to want, or need, any sort of plan. She was fast on her feet and could handle close combat like a champ. She also didn’t need to own the show. When Penny had reacted in the bar, Reagan had held back and allowed her to handle it. That spoke of trust and teamwork.
He scanned the way ahead, ignoring the seemingly chaotic but actually quite organized cloud of magic hovering above them—something Penny seemed to collect and hold whenever she got into a situation that made her nervous—and headed toward a grassy area between the split in the road. People loitered in groups, standing and sitting, nowhere to go or maybe just in no hurry to get there. As far as he could tell, they didn’t present a problem to them.
Though…the surroundings looked familiar for some reason.
Adrenaline rolled through him when he spotted the tree from one of his visions about Penny. A patch of weeds rested under the hanging branches, blanketed in shadows.
Not just any foretelling. He’d sensed someone sitting under this tree, waiting for her—to take her back to the Mages’ Guild’s headquarters, probably—not a physical death sentence, but one that would crush her spirit. Based on what he’d heard from Callie, Dizzy, and Reagan, “proper” training would likely do that to her. And the Guild would do a lot more than “properly” train her.
They’d break her.
Was this a base camp of sorts? Close to the bars where magical people hung out, and tucked into a place where vagabonds loitered. It would be the perfect setup for someone who wanted to watch without getting noticed.
“Don’t come this way anymore,” Emery said with a rougher voice than he’d intended. It was his survival voice, the one he used when he was in the wilds, dealing with people who would skin him alive for his possessions if he so much as turned his back.
As he probably should’ve expected, she looked up at him with those huge blue eyes, widened in fear. An aura of her survival magic rose around her, the crystal white shrouding her like an angel. It was the most beautiful, pure, perplexing sight he’d probably ever seen. He’d never seen survival magic do that—wrap around the body and emit a vibe that would help keep the person safe.
The effect showcased her vulnerability and her desire to be protected—the reason the shifters were willing to take on Reagan and the mages for her. With the vampires, it probably did the opposite, pumping out a sort of challenge and authority to scare off newbies. Well…scare off the newbies and enrage ancient elders.
It was clear she had no idea she was doing it. Her subconscious and her magic were working together, responding to the situation how they deemed fit.
“What would happen if none of us had been trained in the current methods, Penny Bristol?” he asked, rubbing her back. “How many different ways of working magic would there be?”
“What do y
ou mean?”
“Growing up as mages, we’re taught specific ways of doing things from an age when we don’t know how to think for ourselves. By the time we have the power to experiment with magic, we’re already entrenched in the supposedly ‘right’ way of doing things. I’ve learned a great many things out in the wilds by myself, things that have forced me to think outside of my teachings. It has given me an incredible edge over my peers. Made me the undisputed best. But I’ve still played by the rules, more or less. Bending them and breaking them occasionally, but always keeping them in mind. You…” He shook his head and glanced down the street, checking for followers. “You aren’t even using the same playbook.”
“When you first met me, you said that I just needed to will it, and it would be so. Or something like that.”
“Yes, I did. I remember that. I didn’t know you were a natural, then.”
“What’s the difference?”
He blew out a breath and shrugged, looking for the car. “I mean…there shouldn’t be a difference. I will things into existence all the time, after working out the recipe, as you call it. But if I’d known you were a natural, and not a witch with very little power, I would’ve told you to get those spells into your head. Learn the guidelines so you didn’t hurt yourself or someone else. Study, study, study.”
“But after you figured out I was a natural, you still didn’t say that.”
“By then we didn’t have time. You had to learn as quickly as possible, so there was no time for the standard approach. Maybe we got lucky in how it worked out.”
Emery stopped in the place they’d left the car. The red Toyota was still there, but the white sedan was missing. Instead of Reagan’s car, pushed back a little too close to the Toyota, there was a brown station wagon taking up what could’ve been two spots. “Wasn’t it here, or am I remembering incorrectly?”