Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem Book 2) Page 10

  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.

  He wasn’t like the others in this area, lounging with a bottle or his drug of choice—he was here for a purpose.

  Was that purpose me?

  Butterflies of anticipation filled my stomach, and the pressure of danger pressed on my chest.

  Gritting my teeth, I turned away and started to walk—no, swagger. Predators liked to chase. They liked to hunt. If I acted nonchalant, maybe the watcher would have second thoughts.

  Sensitive to the sounds around me, I put distance between myself and the collection of people behind me.

  Breathing got a little easier with every step, and I slowed as I approached the bar where Red usually hung out. I just hoped he was there. Based on the mostly quiet street, the odds weren’t entirely favorable. The bars were clearly closed.

  I drifted close to the wall and into the shadows, hunching to make myself smaller. I peeked around the corner like a creep, listening hard. Shifters kept late hours. The bar was closed, but maybe the partygoers hadn’t all gone home. The two big guys loitering outside would support that theory. If they were shifters, they’d likely know Red and let me inside. Or they’d call him.

  If not, I needed to come up with another plan. And quick. The itch between my shoulder blades had diminished, but if the Guild was in this area, they’d be roaming around. Any one of them might seize the chance to try and grab me. Given how weak I felt after the display at Darius’s house, that could be disastrous.

  Straining, I pointed my ear in their direction, but it was soon apparent that they were either quiet or mute. I couldn’t hear a single word.

  Blowing out a breath, I racked my brain for a fix to the problem, and almost immediately (albeit belatedly) remembered the concealment spell I’d created in the Guild compound.

  I rolled my eyes at myself. My mother would slap me upside the head for that memory slip.

  Chalk it up to experience, Penny.

  I summoned as much energy as I could muster and closed my eyes while sorting through the elements that would make the spell. The familiar weave came naturally. I had it draped over myself in no time, and the light shimmer around me said I’d done it right.

  Taking a deep breath, I slipped around the corner, continuing to hug the wall and stick to the shadows. In the event the spell faltered, it was better to be safe than sorry. Or as my mother would say, “Penny, don’t be an idiot.”

  Fifteen feet from the men, I could hear their soft murmurs. A little closer and I could make out their faces in the flare of their cigarettes. One was a broad-faced guy in his mid-thirties with a big block of a body, and the other had jutting teeth and an expression like something smelled bad. Neither was Red (thank you, random selfie in the email—it turned out it hadn’t been as odd as it had seemed at the time). Still, they could be shifters.

  The broad-faced guy’s shoulders stiffened, and he held up a hand to the other, his face pointed my way.

  I froze, staring at him with wide eyes, wondering if my spell hadn’t worked like I’d thought.

  “What is it?” Smells-a-Stink asked in a hush.

  Broad Face sniffed and scanned the street. “You smell that?” he murmured.

  The other guy stepped into the gutter, keeping one foot on the street. He looked upward and then away before facing my direction. “Yeah. Don’t see nothin’, though.”

  Fabulous. I was the stink.

  “Filthy vampires, is it?” the first asked.

  “Nah, they ain’t invisible. They don’t smell as good, neither.”

  “Too bad. Tearing one of them apart would get us noticed in the pack. They’re hard to kill, I hear.”

  “What about one of those mages wandering around the city?” Smells-a-Stink said, taking a step in my direction.

  It finally occurred to me that these were magical folk who could smell exceptionally well, hanging out near a shifter bar, and had mentioned the word pack. My mother’s voice sounded in my head: Penny, stop being slow.

  Shifters.

  My concealment spell fit around me like a bubble, deadening sound to some degree, but I hadn’t thought at all about smell.

  Since these guys were shifters, I could just show myself to them…only they clearly weren’t so hot on vampires or mages. Given that I was a mage and my new trainer was a vampire (I had not resigned myself to the possibility he might not have made it through), I was not on their “awesome” list.

  And now they knew I was here.

  16

  I could not remember if shifters had enhanced hearing, but it seemed like a strong possibility, given that animals did. Which meant a sound-suppressing spell wouldn’t work as well with them, especially if they were already onto me.

  Careful with my footfalls, I took a step away. Then another, putting distance between us. Unfortunately, Broad Face took one step toward me with a much larger stride. Smells-a-Stink matched him.

  I held my breath and picked up the pace, trying to choose each step carefully.

  My overburdened shoe groaned with the effort. I froze with my other foot off the ground.

  “There’s something there,” Broad Face said, pausing with me. “A female.”

  How could he possibly know that? I was certainly sweating as much as any man.

  “A mage, then,” the other murmured, the words almost unintelligible. He was trying to keep me from hearing. Clearly he didn’t know I was all of seven feet away.

  “Rush her,” Broad Face whispered.

  “I don’t know where she is,” the other murmured, this time without moving his lips.

  “That way somewhere.” Broad Face jerked his chin in my direction. “If we just run at her, eventually we’ll run into her.”

  “We should change, or we’ll run right into a spell.”

  “Not if we surprise her.”

  It wasn’t clear why these two had been given the duty of guarding the door. Or any duties at all.

  “You go at it, and I’ll circle around,” Broad Face said out of the side of his mouth. He used the same volume.

  This was about to get interesting. If they weren’t rushing me together, it would be similar to dodge ball, which I’d always been surprisingly great at. I’d just have to step aside when they barreled past. Of course, red balls didn’t have long, grasping arms.

  “Ready?” Smells-a-Stink asked, his volume increasing with his excitement.

  “Yeah,” the other whispered.

  A door squealed somewhere behind them and a tall man stepped out. “What are you guys doing?” Light spilled across his familiar face.

  “Red,” I said in relief, stepping forward.

  “There!” Broad Face swung a finger toward me, but not right at me. He squinted at nothingness. “Did you hear that?”

  “I heard that!” Smells-a-Stink backed into the street between two parked cars. “I definitely heard that. You sure that is a mage and not a ghost?”

  “Mages can do tricks like that,” Broad Face said, putting out hi
s hands. “I’m pretty sure.”

  “Red,” I said again, unraveling the spell as Broad Face moved somewhat in my direction with his arms waving in front of him.

  “There!” Smells-a-Stink pointed at me. “It was a female, all right.”

  Broad Face jerked and took a quick step away before getting his bearings and hop-stepping back into position. He looked me up and down with his shoulders back, squinting at me. “Didn’t think I’d catch you, did you? Well, I did. You filthy mages can’t get nothing past me. I knew you were there the whole time.”

  “So did I,” Smells-a-Stink said, nodding adamantly.

  “Sorry. I just wanted to talk with Red.” I pointed lamely, doing nothing to straighten out of my hunch. Invisibility had its perks.

  Broad Face stepped between Red and me. “What business do you have here?”

  “She’s a rat,” Smells-a-Stink said in disgust.

  “Yeah.” Broad Face adjusted his belt. “A rat, and a filthy black magic mage. Ain’t that right? I heard all about what’s going down in Seattle. Well, let me tell you something…” He paused for effect.

  “We’re not having it,” Smells-a-Stink said.

  Broad Face’s jaw clenched as he tilted his head in irritation. Smells-a-Stink had clearly stolen his thunder.

  I pulled my cardigan tighter and stepped to the side so I could see past him. “Red, please, I need help.”

  A slim hand appeared on Broad Face’s arm. Red looked around him, his eyes roaming my hair and face.

  “I know her,” Red said, stepping closer. The two other shifters calmed down marginally, but didn’t drop their tough-guy stances. “You’re staying with that mage couple in the Garden District?”

  “Yes. Please.” I stepped closer to him. “I need to contact Reagan Somerset. You know her, right? Something happened at Darius Durant’s house, and—”

  The two shifters stiffened and Red licked his lips nervously.

  “What’s this, Red?” Broad Face asked. “You in league with the vampires now?”

  Red shuffled closer before protectively (and awkwardly) slinging his arm around my shoulders. It didn’t seem like he was used to bodily contact, but I was grateful for the show of support.