Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem Book 2) Page 31

  “Why are you going along with this?”

  “Because…well, because everyone around me is pushy, and you all seem to think this is the right way to do things. But if you think about it, all these people are in town for us, and they were going to come for us sometime. At least this is on our terms.”

  He deflated and shook his head.

  “Come on.” I patted his shoulder. “Buck up. We can do this. We have a future. I mean, my mother basically foretold it. It was gibberish and only made a mild amount of sense, but it was a future involving Reagan’s…secret. We should trust in that.”

  “I foretell futures all the time. It’s how I avoid them.”

  I didn’t have an answer for that one, so I said, “Sure, yeah,” and got out of the car.

  “There was a tripwire over here,” Reagan said, standing off to the side next to a few trees. “It ran over there.” She pointed across the small parking lot. “We drove through it. I took it down, but it’s too late. Someone with midrange power knows we’re here.”

  “Think they’ll drive in?” I asked, walking around the car to get Emery.

  “Well, they certainly aren’t going to take camels.”

  “Right.” I rolled my eyes and knocked on Emery’s window. “Come on. The first step is the hardest.”

  “Your turn to play strongman, huh?” Reagan wrinkled her nose and put up her hands. “There is something else out that way. Do you see it?”

  “What do you mean, my turn to play strongman?” I waited by his door.

  “Dual-mages.” She waggled her finger in our direction. “You switch off the different hats, right?”

  “We’re not a dual-mage.”

  She put up her hand to block the sun. “Not yet, but something changed after you left the bar. You’re acting like the Bankses. I can see it. Hell, I can feel constant shifting between you. It’s pleasant. I like when your rage shifts around. That’s the most fun.”

  “But we didn’t do anything different.” I remembered the feeling when we’d created the concealment spell together in the gap between the houses in the French Quarter. We’d blended our weaves into and through each other to make the kind of comprehensive, tightly packed spell I’d never achieved on my own.

  We’d merged, in a way. The balance I’d always felt with him had become more grounded. Our roots had dug deeply into the ground, entwining as they did so, and our energy had reached into the sky. Oneness.

  I wondered if the dual-mage situation would boost that effect again, as it boosted the magic of Callie and Dizzy.

  “You’ve got all the essentials lined up,” Reagan said, walking toward the warehouse with her hands out. “Becoming a dual-mage pair would be a natural next step. Of course, that means forever. Scary stuff.”

  Biting my lip, I knocked on Emery’s window. “Get out.” I rapped harder.

  “See? Right now you’re wearing the bullying hat. Callie wears that most of the time. After this, though, I bet Emery will wear that hat, if he can learn how to say no to you. Or…I guess guys get to be called commanding. Women always get the short end of the stick. But clearly you need to wear it right now, because he turned chicken.” She made sounds like a chicken, loud enough that I knew he heard.

  I couldn’t help laughing. “We’re about to be killed. Do you take nothing seriously?”

  “Oh, honey,” she said with attitude. She was probably mimicking someone, but I didn’t know who. “We’re not going to be killed. Let’s get these tattletale spells down, and I’ll tell you exactly what we’re going to do.”

  It took me a few moments to get Emery out of the car, plus a whopping ten minutes to get him into the warehouse. I finally ended up punching him in the face. I’d tried everything else, and Reagan had advised me to jar him out of it, so I did.

  I was pretty sure he could’ve easily dodged or blocked my punch. My heart wasn’t really in it. But he’d let it hit. Probably so I’d hurt my hand.

  Which I did. He had some sharp cheekbones, and I had some (evidently) weak knuckles.

  A moment later, his eyes had changed and fierce determination had taken over. In other words, the normal, confident problem-solver Emery. I got to go back to coasting. Which gave me a stronger appreciation for Dizzy’s near-constant state of happiness.

  Now we stood at the back area of the warehouse beside a long table with a plethora of ingredients organized across its surface. It reminded me of Darius’s warehouse in Seattle, where we’d done a few spells to sell to him.

  “When did you set this up?” I asked, looking over everything. The collection of power stones was a little lacking, but I had a pretty good collection with me.

  “I called it in last night while I was waiting for Darius,” Reagan said. “I figured we could all work together on some really tight spells, like that ward, and then create an arsenal of casings to keep at the house. We’ll have to raincheck that, of course. We need quick, nitty-gritty spells. Also…” She put her hands on her hips as she examined the various baskets of casings collected at the end of the table. “We might need to special order some larger, more durable casings in the future. I have a feeling these won’t be enough for what I am thinking.”

  “We put a powerful spell into two casings,” I said, remembering working with Emery in Seattle.

  Reagan turned on me, and anger crossed her face. “That secret-keeping jerk. You see? Every time I think we’re being open with each other, that elder has something up his sleeve. He implied Emery did that spell. He didn’t mention you at all. Which I find a little suspicious, since, you know, I knew you first.” She frowned, pausing for another beat, before wiping it away with her hand. “Whatever. That doesn’t matter right now. He’s got plans. Fine. So do I. I don’t understand those plans, because your mother is like all other Seers, but I have them. And I won’t be spilling. He can suck it.”

  “A very odd relationship,” I muttered.

  Reagan ignored my remark. “That spell you two did was in two casings. An even more complex spell might take three or four. How the hell can you quickly grab out four casings from among many, sort through them for the order, and then release them all while in the heat of battle? No, that’s not going to work. Well, for now, it probably has to. Okay, here’s what we need…”

  Reagan spent the next few minutes listing off the types of spells we’d ideally have ready for the battle ahead. Everything from attack to defense to marvels of nature. Then she described the more important and pressing matter of creating gigantic walls to keep onlookers from seeing the massive battle. We were supposed to create a Not-So-Great Wall of China to basically run along the outskirts of the land surrounding the warehouse, though she wouldn’t say why it needed to be so massive.

  Then we needed to wander through the fields and make sure there weren’t any traps and magical pitfalls that had been planted prior to our arrival.

  As she was winding down, her phone rang.

  “Red.” She tapped the face of the phone and put it to her ear. “Hello?”

  Emery plucked at my sleeve before looking over the organic offerings. “Let’s focus on those walls first. They’ll need to be strong and magical, and they’ll need to be in casings. We don’t want them to know we’re essentially trying to lock them in…until we lock them in.”

  “Locking in eighty people to our three.” A tremor rolled through my body, begging me to do what he’d suggested in the beginning. Run!

  Two hours later, I was jarred out of my extreme focus. A warning shook my bones. My teeth rattled.

  I backed away from the elaborate spell I was working on, letting it dissipate and drift into space. Emery straightened up next to me, his body going taut. The magic around us instantly changed from busied loops of beautiful designs, to rolling, boiling bubbles of pure magic and energy.

  Reagan glanced over from what she was doing on the other side of the warehouse. Magic draped across the walls in patterns that barely made sense to my eye. A little blurry, sometimes glowing
and glittering in places, the weaves seemed to shift into tangible things—walls and chairs and draping vines—made up of moving, surging, and pulsing colors. A high gloss covered the whole thing, and the intent felt majestic.

  It was the first time I’d ever seen actual weaves with her magic.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “Tripwire three was set off,” Emery said, back to working on his spell.

  “Five for me,” I said, refocusing.

  In two hours, we’d created a small pile of spells tucked into casings, some of which would soon be used to create the sight-blocking, sound-deadening walls. We also had a half-dozen magical tripwires placed around the fields surrounding the warehouse. In addition to alerting us of intruders, the tripwires would give a little tag to the first ten people who passed through them. Then, when we released certain casings, they’d get a nasty surprise.

  This was assuming they didn’t find and tear down the spells immediately, of course.

  Reagan looked back at her spell. “Okay, let’s pack it in. Get some water and a rest. That means they are crawling into position, the snakes.”

  “Two hours is a long time,” I said, picking up my power stones. “If this were a normal practice, we’d probably be done by now.”

  “We’d be getting ready to go to the car.” Reagan left her spell, but it didn’t fold back into the universe. It stayed where it was, a strange sort of hall of magic within the warehouse. “Either they’re planning to surprise us as we leave, or they’re slow to get organized.” She stopped by the door and put her palm on the wood. “I wish we had a spell for seeing through solid material.”

  “Humans came up with that one. It’s called glass.” Emery grabbed his basket of spells and walked it back to the table.

  Reagan turned and stared at him, before glancing up at the various windows high in the walls. “This is true.”

  A tingling sensation crawled up my spine. Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky awoke from a bored stupor and sent out a pulse of power.

  Emery, now stalking across the room toward Reagan, stalled and glanced back at the stone. “Did you feel that?” he asked me.

  “Yes.”

  He nodded and resumed his walk. “That’s what drew me to it in the first place. That pulse. A moment later, I was ambushed by goblins.”

  43

  “Ambushed…” It took a moment for that word, and its implications, to set in. Adrenaline raged through me, erasing all fatigue. “How can you be so blasé?”

  I snatched up my basket with suddenly shaking hands. Two casings jumped out and rolled away. After collecting them again, I hurried them to the table and went back for my stones, collecting them and putting them in their various compartments. Except for Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky, Emery’s Plain Jane, and my chunk of Red Beryl, pumping fiery power into the air. It was trying to keep pace with the other two, which would hopefully help boost its power.

  “Calm, Penny,” Reagan said in a firm tone, nothing like her usual flippant attitude in the face of danger.

  “How can you tell me to stay calm when you sound like that?” I blew out a breath, my legs shaking.

  “We’re prepared. We’re ready.” Reagan shot Emery a confused and distracted look when he stopped beside her. “What do you want?”

  “I’m your ladder. Stand on my shoulders so you can see.”

  A half grin flitted across her face. “No, you wouldn’t have figured out my secret on your own. You were told, and you still have no idea what I can do.”

  His expression closed down—which was replaced by wide-eyed shock when Reagan rose into the sky, floating or levitating or flying, I didn’t know, but she left the ground and floated up like a freaking genie.

  Up until then, I’d had no idea how much she was holding back.

  “You win.” I palmed my heart, in complete awe. “Hands down, you win the contest for the coolest magic. No question.”

  Emery nodded mutely.

  Reagan stopped her ascent at the side of the window and looked out.

  A swear word drifted across the warehouse.

  I danced from side to side, my flight reflex in overdrive. Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky started pounding with power, thrusting it into the air like a drumbeat. The Red Beryl fizzed and sparkled, something I had never seen it do.

  Plain Jane stayed true to its look. No excitement at all. Cool as a cucumber.

  “That’s why you’re Emery’s. Right there, that’s why. Stone matches master.” I blew out a breath and jogged in a small circle. I had to do something; I could feel the presence of magic now—sharp, dull, ragged, smooth, all pumping into the warehouse. Collecting in a huge pool of magical intent.

  “Oh gobbledygook twatwallop. Butt crack solstice alert. Flubber fart bugger balls.”

  “What is she saying?” Reagan said in exasperation.

  “I think she has abandoned her usual recipe for slant-swearing in panic.” Emery watched Reagan float to another window. He cocked his head. “Another two tripwires.”

  I rose my hand, jogging in place. It felt like my spine was wiggling as people tramped across my tripwires. “Tripwires. Tripwires.”

  “We’re surrounded,” Reagan said, lowering. “They must’ve collected out of sight and marched at us in synchronicity. They had information on us. They’ve been watching.”

  “What’s the plan?” I asked, wringing my hands.

  Trap. Kill. Trap. Kill.

  It felt like a huge magical net rose around the warehouse. Some of us would be preserved. Some killed.

  I would live.

  Reagan would surely die.

  I wasn’t sure about Emery.

  “Oh bull cocks. Fuckity shit stains.”

  “Whoa.” Reagan laughed.

  “Penny Bristol, I am telling your mother.” Emery laughed and stuffed ingredients into his pockets. “I should’ve gotten a new utility belt.”

  “Here.” Reagan unslung her fanny pack from around her waist. “Use this. I won’t need it now that I’m not pretending.”

  He paused, looking unsure.

  Reagan shook it. “Hurry.”

  He didn’t step forward.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked impatiently.

  “I made it through my youth without ever succumbing to that trend, only to do so in my twenties?” He shook his head.

  “If you call it a fanny pack one more time, I’m going to break your face. It is a pouch! Now put it on, Mr. Fashion.” She zipped it up and chucked it at him.

  Reagan paused in front of her magical spectacle. If I didn’t know better, and maybe I didn’t, she was unsure. That was not good.

  As if hearing my thoughts, she said, “I really hope this works.”

  “Oh good, yeah. Yes, let’s hope it works. Yup.” I jogged in another circle like a hyperactive dog. “But let’s not say what it is, exactly.”

  “It is my father’s legacy, and it is about time I learn to use it.” She blew out a deep breath, turning to watch Emery adjust the fanny pack to fit around his much larger waist. He shook his head as he clipped it on.

  “We are in a very bad situation, about to get worse, but it would be remiss if I didn’t mention that someone should get a picture of him wearing that.” I pointed at him as I attempted a sort of tap dance across the floor.

  “What in the holy hell are you doing, Penny?” Reagan demanded. But she did raise her phone and snap off a picture of Emery. Before filming me.

  It would’ve looked better if I’d taken even one tap dance lesson in my life.

  Emery pulled out handfuls of empty casings. “Are you a hoarder? What is all this?”

  “It’s for show. Let’s go, Emery. Your lady love is about to lose it.”

  “Oh, I’ve lost it. It’s gone. Long gone. And you know what?” I clapped and danced back toward them. “There isn’t one closet in this whole godforsaken warehouse. Not one. Not even a freaking nook or cranny. There is nowhere to hide. I’ve gotten myself into a pickle this time. Did you know they
are basically chanting kill, kill, kill out there? Yeah. Magically chanting it. Do you who they want to kill?” I pointed at Reagan. I pointed at Emery. “Maybe. I don’t know. But definitely—” I pointed at her again.

  “It makes it more fun when they mean business.” Reagan watched as Emery finished shoving ingredients and casings into the fanny pack. “We ready?”

  I jumped in place, the throbbing of magic outside the warehouse at a fever pitch. Spells would come soon. Huge, powerful spells intent to tear the warehouse from its very foundation. They’d been preparing, all right. All these months, they’d been preparing. Collecting magic, building spells, assembling a freaking army.

  All to combat three people.

  We had no chance in hell.

  44

  “Parlay,” I yelled as a mighty spell bore down on the warehouse. “Parlay!”

  “We’re not pirates,” Reagan said, pulling her hands up from her sides. “And they can’t hear us in here.”

  “A spell is coming right at us!” I ran at Emery, grabbed his arm, and tore his survival magic from within his body. I had no idea how, but I didn’t care. I smooshed it with mine, and yanked at the three throbbing power stones, releasing as I did so.

  A concussion of magic rocked out from my body, stopping in the middle of the warehouse before exploding outward without sound, a gray mass heading for the walls.

  At the same time, Reagan grunted and shoved her hands outward.

  The four walls of the warehouse bowed in the middle before ripping outward. The roof flew off as though from an explosion, ripping from the ends of the walls. Metal screamed. Glass shattered. Emery threw his body over mine.

  The magic I’d thrown flew beyond the mess of broken walls and roof, expanding outward. The incoming spell hit it with a flurry of sparks, stopping its progress. Shimmery green warred with gray. Magic zipped away in all directions, hitting the ground and pooling acid.

  Emery pulled off me and worked a spell. Without thinking, I added my weave to it, fortifying his efforts before weaving my own spell to blast out a wave of intense heat all around the warehouse, hopefully taking out their first line of attack.