Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem Book 2) Page 26
Penny pointed at the Toyota before looking beyond and then behind her. “It was here. I remember getting out and seeing from this angle. So yeah, it definitely had to be here.”
He laughed. Didn’t do a thing to calm his growing anxiety, but it tickled him that she even had a unique way of remembering where a car was parked.
“Crap,” he said, his smile dropping away.
“Hondas go for a lot of money at chop shops,” Penny said. Her face fell as she eyed a Honda up the street, in better condition, and then another across the street. Her face fell. “Granted, they typically boost them in groups.”
“Do you know that from TV?”
“No. Veronica had a Honda once. It disappeared when all the others in the neighborhood did. The police said that’s what happens sometimes.” She pointed at the Toyota. Then a Mercedes up the street. “If you were going to steal a car, there are much better options.” After a pause, she said, “Let’s go. Now.”
“Good idea.” He grabbed her arm, silently keeping her at his pace. He should’ve remembered her speed. Soon she was yanking at him, wanting to go faster.
A backward glance didn’t tell him much. People ambled along the sidewalks and streets, ready to enjoy the night. No one looked their way, and certainly nobody stared. But then, anyone watching them wouldn’t want to be obvious about it. A glance every now and then would be enough.
Regardless, no one had randomly stolen Reagan’s broken-down car, which bore its fair share of bad paint and dents. They needed to get to shelter, now.
“What’s the situation with Darius?” he asked. “Do you trust what Reagan is telling you?”
“She’s a terrible liar, so yes. She didn’t need to say a word, though. We do not want to mess with the extreme elder staying with him. Trust me. Her and I don’t seem to play nice together. But Reagan seemed more worried about us staying in the bar. Maybe Darius’s house is safe?”
Emery licked his lips, glancing behind them again. Nothing had changed, and he didn’t see anyone he’d noticed on his first sweep, which meant very little. “Maybe. Or maybe getting us out of the bar was just a precaution. We could chance going back.”
She clenched her jaw and said something under her breath that sounded like “nuck fuggets.” “The car getting stolen right now is fiercely bad timing.”
Bad timing for us, great timing for the Guild. They’d clearly taken advantage of the situation.
“You got that right.” He pulled her to cross the street. “I know you are more knowledgeable now, and can do things on your own, but—”
“It’s fine,” she cut in, looking away right before they continued on down the sidewalk. Houses rose on either side and pedestrian traffic reduced a little. “I don’t mind being manhandled as long as the person doing the manhandling is someone I trust that also has an idea of what to do in the given moment.”
“That makes things easy,” he said, teasing but also meaning it.
“It seems my mother’s training has really come in handy. I keep getting thrown in with headstrong jerks. My complacency melds just fine.”
“That’s not very nice,” he said with a grin, clutching the back of her shirt. He had no idea what might pop out at them. At all costs, they needed to stick together. Since his first reaction to danger was to do a spell, and hers was (usually) to run like hell, keeping contact was necessary.
“At least you won’t beat me up,” she muttered, bringing out her phone. “Do you have a plan, or does it just seem like you do?”
“It just seems like I do. Though going back to the bar is our smartest bet. If Darius is bringing his new friend to keep an eye on her, they probably haven’t shown up yet.”
“You don’t think so?”
He gritted his teeth, uncertainty rising through him. It was a shifter bar, which gave jurisdiction to Roger. If Darius waited too long, he might lose his chance to interrogate the mages and gain firsthand knowledge of the situation. Emery doubted Darius would take the risk.
Of course, it also seemed implausible that Darius would bring a dangerous elder out in public with him, but that possibility was dangerous to Penny. More so than Emery would like to risk.
“Damn it. We need a plan B.” He wanted to break something in frustration. Instead, he took a deep breath. Best not to panic Penny. Then she’d really be unpredictable, and that might be lethal in their current situation. “We can’t walk to Reagan’s place from here, even if that wasn’t a horribly bad idea. I’m not great at stealing cars, even if that wasn’t a horribly bad idea.”
“Right. Does your phone work?”
“Yes, why?”
“Do you have a rideshare service on it, like Uber or Lyft?”
He patted the phone in his pocket for no particular reason. “No. It only has the apps that came with it.”
“One of us needs to be the designated tech-savvy one. I’d hoped that would be you.”
“Hope dashed.”
“Not at all. You just need to learn. I’m pretty sure you can. You’re smart,” she said, utterly serious. He couldn’t help chuckling despite the situation. “You should set Lyft up on your phone really quick and call for a ride.”
“Except I don’t have an account to download apps. Or a credit card to set up an account…to download apps.”
“In the house that Jack built,” she said randomly before exhaling. “Okay, plan C. Do you have any cash? Or wait, what am I thinking? We can see if Callie and Dizzy are—”
She spun, ramming his arm with her elbow and knocking it away from her. Her hands pulled up to her chest and magic pulled from her cloud and into a tight, focused weave three inches thick. A moment later, he knew why.
A bright red blast, full of dazzling elements, flew at them from behind. Sophisticated, practiced, and somewhat powerful, the spell had clearly been created by an advanced user.
Penny’s spell blasted out toward it, wrapping it up easily before turning end over end, eating through it.
Shapes slipped behind the corner a block down, the attacking mages taking cover. Emery and Penny were wide open.
“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing his arm and yanking him forward. “There are two more grisly spells in the making. I don’t know how many more of them are around, but it’s safe to say we’re outnumbered, and this isn’t a good place to fight.”
“If we don’t take them out, they’ll just—” Her spell, having successfully consumed the other, grew in power and continued on its way. “It is headed back to the user.”
“I hope so. I don’t honestly know if it’ll work. We made No Good Mikey use a casing to attack me, but my spell didn’t reach him in the end. He’d already scrambled over the fence, into his yard, and shut himself into his house before my spell started pursuing him. He was not impressed with Reagan tricking him into using magic. Or being a magical target.”
Emery didn’t have time to laugh at her antics. Black fog clouded his vision and he saw the way ahead, teeming with bodies and flashing magical spells.
“We can’t go straight. We need to turn up here. Pick up the pace.” He started to jog. “They’re here in numbers. Our stint in the bar must’ve given them time to organize.”
“There are a great many ways out of here,” she said, yanking him right at the next corner and then down another street. A group of girls yelled and jeered at a group of guys on the other side of the street. One of the guys was showing his man-boobs and shaking his rather large belly. “We can walk quickly down the middle of Bourbon Street and blend into the crowd. You’ll have to take off your shirt, though.”
“You first.”
“I’d rather be the one jeering and whooping.” She laughed, strangely not a forced sound, given the situation, and shoved him left at the next corner.
With the next turn, the black fog rushed into his vision, only to clear immediately when Penny pulled him around the corner. “One back there.”
A jet of magic roared behind them, the power blistering as it pas
sed by.
“They’re either packing serious power, or they’re constructing spells together,” Emery said, breathing heavily now.
“I thought mages didn’t work together.”
“Not in the way you’re thinking. Not like witches. Remember when we made that spell in Darius’s warehouse? We each created half of it, then merged it together? Mages work that way when confronting a larger power source. Or else naturals would go unchallenged.”
“Like building a Lego village with someone.” She nodded, like that made sense, and pointed in front of them. Beyond a roadblock cutting off traffic, people meandered up the middle of the street. Neon light glowed and spilled across the cement, sliding over the passersby. Music pulsed and people moved, lifting their plastic cups and cheering for no reason other than the fun of a constant party.
“We’ll walk down there for a ways.” She grabbed his hand and they veered right, around the roadblock and into the crowd. The crowd wasn’t as dense as it would be for a festival or Mardi Gras, but there was ample opportunity to hide. “Stay to the middle,” she said. “Keep with the crowd. When we can, let’s break away and run again. We need to get away from the mages.”
“I agree. The chase is on. If we can get them to follow us instead of surround us, we’ll be fine.” He clutched her hand, smiling for show and even moving a little to the pounding music blasting out of a nearby bar, fitting in with the group of people in front of them.
“You can dance.” She shook her hand loose before slipping her arm around his middle. His gut tightened in a way that wasn’t appropriate for the situation, and he exhaled at the warm feeling unfolding in his chest. He let his arm fall around her shoulders as she said, “I’ve always liked to dance.”
“I don’t know about dancing, but I can jive to rhythm well enough.”
“Jive?” She smiled at him, and the world around them started to dim. Her effect on him was not helping him focus. “Next you’ll tell me you have fancy feet.”
She chuckled and scanned the area around them. Her hand gripped his waist a little tighter and her face dropped, now looking through her eyelashes.
He followed her gaze. A scarred-faced man stood at the side of the street with cunning eyes and a naturally downturned mouth. He wore scraped-up leather pants, a worse-for-wear leather duster, and a black shirt.
“Someone must’ve told him you were dangerous,” she whispered.
Emery laughed. “Or tricked him into thinking it was a costume party.” He looked away, scanning the other side of the street, then above them, just in case someone hanging out on one of the balconies looked out of place. “He’s a mercenary. They aren’t clever in their fashion choices. The Guild is outsourcing. Unless he’s working for someone else.”
“Is he magical?”
“Maybe. Or else he’s just a thug. He either doesn’t know what he’s up against, or knows exactly what he’s up against. The choice of outfit would be the same for either situation. We’re hoping for the former, obviously.”
“They want us really bad,” she said, that halo of survival light covering her body. This time, it expanded to cover him as well.
Unbelievably, his survival magic kicked in, too, welling up from deep inside of him and rippling into hers like a new current in a tranquil pond. The colors swirled and mixed until they blended, pumping with power and turning a hazy gray.
“Sorry,” he said, spotting a plain woman with a tight bun and a purple sash around her neck. The color signified power level, he remembered, though he didn’t know which tier that specific color was.
“For what?” Penny’s nails dug into his sides. Beyond the woman, who was obviously with the Guild and showing her higher status, leaned another mercenary, this one in somewhat newer leathers. Either that meant he made a good living, or he was a greenie.
Emery hoped for the latter.
“I made your snow-white halo a muddy gray,” he said, not liking the numbers stacked against them.
She shrugged. “You turned me from the color of a blank slate into a drab color. At least I have a little color now.”
He laughed despite himself, remembering their conversation in Seattle about her white survival magic versus his black. He’d always seen his magic as a reflection of his soul—black—but she’d flipped the script, saying she had no color because they’d all fled, but he was full of them.
A crowd of guys stood to the side, looking up at two girls dancing on a balcony, ready to flash their goods.
“Here we go.” Emery pushed Penny in front of him and shoved his way into the group of guys, lifting his hand and pumping his fist. “Take. It. Off,” he chanted. “Take. It. Off.”
Penny lifted her fist and joined in.
The guys weren’t long in jumping on board, and the combined chant drew more onlookers. One of the girls lifted her shirt and the guys jumped and threw up their hands, splashing beer down and dousing the sleeve of Emery’s hoodie. He jumped with them, his hands on Penny’s shoulders to keep her close.
She threaded between the bodies, dragging him with her, until they were at the edge of the group. After taking a quick look around, she led him away from the others. A moment later and they were in a group of ladies staggering down the sidewalk.
“Did you see that guy flash his dick?” Penny asked the girl next to them.
“Oh my gawd.” The girl swerved at Penny, ducking her head into Penny’s face with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. She was clearly drunk off her ass and having a hard time navigating her high heels. “No! Where? Was he packing?”
“Up there. He was really hot.” Penny nudged the girl next to her. “So was his friend. Shirtless.”
“Who?” the other woman said, blinking at Penny.
“No, you guys.” Penny pointed across the street before grabbing the girls to either side of her and pulling them with her. “Over here. Free beer and super-hot guys.”
“I’m…getting married,” one of the leaders of the dozen said with serious attitude. She didn’t follow.
“No, they’re gay,” Penny insisted, stalling on the street so they didn’t spread too far out. “They’re just good to look at. Hello? Free beer.” Her attitude rivaled the bride’s.
“Wait, who are you?” The girl next to Emery looked at him in confusion, and then a smile slid across her face and her eyes half drifted shut. “Hi.”
“He’s one of the dancers! You guys, come on.” Penny motioned everyone forward.
“I’ll buy the first round.” Emery held out his arms for them to grab as they cheered. A girl on either side took hold, and one grabbed his shoulders from behind.
“I want in,” someone said as the others chatted and laughed, following in a tight pack.
Penny worked her new friends to the back, making Emery’s part of the group take the lead. As he neared the next corner, he spotted a man tucked into an alcove on the other side of the street, scanning those who passed. From his vantage point, the man had a view of their street and the one beyond it, not nearly as busy as Bourbon Street, but still going strong as the evening rushed on.
The man’s gaze followed a couple entwined in each other’s arms. Emery ducked down enough to let the heeled height of the women provide him with cover. A moment later, the man was scanning the large group, lingering on exposed skin more than checking out faces. After finishing his halfhearted perusal, he shifted his gaze to another couple heading his way on his side of the street.
“Just up here, ladies,” Emery said, getting them to cross kitty-corner. He met Penny’s eye, and she jerked her head to the right; he nodded. “Okay, have a good night.”
“Wait, what?” One of the girls scowled at him as he disentangled himself.
“No, wait,” another said.
Still another didn’t bother protesting. She just lunged for the goods. “Yes, puh-lease,” she purred with a dopey smile.
He un-cupped a hand from an area it didn’t belong. “Not cool, ladies,” he muttered, slapping another hand
away.
“Run,” Penny said urgently, looking back the way they’d come.
He took off at her side, running straight for a space between two houses. Murky brown light filled the gap, only about five feet long before a fence halted their progress.
“Okay,” she said, panting. Her halo dissolved, and his with it. “Do you think there’s any chance we’ll run across a natural?”
He thought it over, guessing what she was thinking—they needed a spell to conceal them, now—and starting the weave. “Doubtful. They won’t have her running around the streets like a footman.”
A few people glanced at Emery and Penny as they passed, stalling and looking at Emery’s hands. They probably thought he was rolling a joint or something.
“Hurry, help,” he said, trying to work as fast as he could.
She closed her eyes, and the electricity he’d grown to expect from working with her sparked across his body. Ducking her head, she began weaving a concealment spell completely different to the one she’d created on the fly in the Guild compound in Seattle.
“Stop,” she said, her fingers stilling and her weave dissipating as she did so. “Start again.”
He followed her direction, immediately seeing what she was doing.
Filling in the holes.
His weave was tight, organized, and uniform, but she worked more magic in between the fibers, creating a beautiful tapestry humming with power. She started messing with his weave as it was rolling out of his fingers, no longer filling in the holes, but working with him to make it stronger.
“A Lego house,” she muttered. “It’s easier to start from the ground up than it is to put a Lego in the hole after the house is built. You’d have to smash it first, and that would make the whole thing less structured.”
The spell draped in front of them, creating a stationary wall and magically sheltering them from the curious eyes on the street. Giving them time to catch their breath.
“And now for one that’ll move with us.” She closed her eyes, magic drifting to her fingertips.
“This isn’t how Guild members create a spell,” he whispered, seeing her patterns and tweaking his to meld better.