“Will you be able to siphon magic from other people, like I do?”
He studied me for a moment. “That’s a question I’ve wondered myself. My brother didn’t get my premonition ability, and I didn’t get his ability to easily decipher truth from lie, so possibly not.”
“He could tell truth from lie? Like…just know when people were lying to him?”
Emery nodded, organizing the containers now, probably into what would be used and when. “To a degree, yes. It really helped him in the Guild. Clearly, it didn’t save his life. I have a theory that mages have extra little individual gifts in addition to their magic. The higher the power level, the more apparent the gifts are. It’s a recent theory…” He gave me a sheepish smile. “In the past, I just thought my brother and I were prodigies.”
“Well…you were. Two naturals coming out of the same family is kind of a big deal.”
“Right, but I let myself think there was more to it than that.” He shrugged, and I could see a boyish delight shine through. “Think superheroes.”
“Ah.” I glanced at the opened binder, curiosity pulling at me. Fear holding me back.
“But in seeing your pretty extreme gift, I can’t help but wonder if other mages have them to a lesser degree, or maybe just naturals get a little something extra…”
“We already have so much. That doesn’t seem fair.”
He chuckled as he straightened up. “There’s that pure heart. Here I was thinking about being a superhero, and you’re debating the fairness of it all.”
“Your brother did a lot of the intense decision-making, didn’t he?” I asked, angling my face up as he ran his fingers along the underside of my jaw.
He smiled again before he brushed his lips against mine. Not satisfied, he deepened the contact, opening my lips with his and probing with his tongue.
My body turned molten and I moaned into his taste. The wildness of his magic throbbing around us. The feel of his body against mine.
“Focus, Penny Bristol,” he murmured against my lips, his breath fast, his smile gone. His palms spread up my stomach and cupped my breasts.
“I’m not the one copping a feel.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, lost in his touch.
His hot lips trailed down my exposed throat and his hands kneaded. I sucked in a breath as his thumbs moved across my nipples. “Focus,” I heard again, wispy. He kissed my collarbone but straightened up. Slowly. His hands moved down to my hips, gripping tightly. “We have all night for that. We need to do this spell.”
He stole one more kiss before stepping back and running his fingers through his hair. He blew out a breath and a boyish grin worked up his face. “I am certainly approaching this spell differently the second time around.” He shook his head and picked up a large wooden spoon before handing it over. “Don’t turn me into a zombie.”
All the air went out of me. Scowling sullenly, I took the spoon. “Low blow.”
“Yes, my brother did make all of the intense decisions. Most of the decisions, big and small. He was the oldest, after all. I’d been trained to do as he said or get the snot beat out of me. Even when I got older and could hold my own, I still remembered those early lessons.”
“I know something of that.” I edged up to the binder. “Because of Reagan.”
“It helps, though. In the long run. Makes you tough.”
“I’m certainly blasé when I’m thrown against the wall by an enemy. Which is not something I ever thought I would say.” Magic danced around me as I neared the spell stand. My energy fizzed and spurted. Words jumped off the page in bright, sparkly colors, vying for attention, pointing out the most important part of the spell, and what could go wrong.
Wind kicked up, brushing against my face and tossing my hair. But when I put my hand up to pat down my flyaways, they hadn’t been disturbed.
“This spell doesn’t look overly complex,” I said, confused as to what was causing this reaction in me.
“It’s not.” Emery picked up the second ingredient, a jug of orange juice. Knowing Darius, it was hand-squeezed. “You have to have enough power to do it, but I’ve seen mages barely more powerful than witches form a dual-mage pair.”
But as my gaze moved over the lines of instructions, the environment in the garage changed. The ghost of a wind fought the stagnant, still air. A floral whiff drifted past my nose, replaced by the lingering scent of paper from books mixed with grease left over from when a car had been stored in the space. Leaves brushed against the roof or rain gutters outside, longing to come in and be a part of this. Even the very words of the spell seemed to beg for more natural elements to play with.
Emery stilled with the jug held out, waiting for me to read the first line.
“This potion was meant to be performed outside.” I looked down at the cauldron. “We need to move. To the trees.”
He just looked at me, the jug still held out. I shook my head at him, suddenly frustrated beyond a rational amount. “And you need to get your head in the game. You’re slipping back into how you used to do magic. That’s not the right way. It won’t bring out the true essence of this spell.”
A line formed between his brow and he tilted his head, surveying me. The glimmer of boyish excitement seeped away, and a part of me felt really crappy because of it. But the part that was in control didn’t back down. I pointed at the cauldron, and the stack of containers next to it, before grabbing the binder and fitting it under my arm. “Come on. This spell seems simple, but if you look below the surface, and do it right, it is actually quite complex. I can feel it. It can also go badly wrong. I intend to do it right, and we need to move so we don’t get steamrolled by the effects.”
19
The great thing about vampires was they were very strong, and could move a cast iron cauldron filled with water with minimal strain and no spillage. The great thing about Darius and Reagan was they took my spell work as it came, and never batted an eye at my crazy demands.
Callie, Dizzy, and my mother, on the other hand…
“I have personally done this spell, and it doesn’t need to be executed in the freezing cold rain,” Callie said an hour after I’d initiated the move, tromping behind me through the trees to a little clearing down the way. Vampires had been called in to set up a tight perimeter so we wouldn’t be disrupted by any enemies deciding tonight was a good night to attack. It was a necessary precaution after the bar battle earlier that day.
Our timing wasn’t great.
“The garage would’ve been fine. I know a dual-mage pair with half the power of Dizzy and me, and they did it in their living room without a problem.” Callie hurried to my side, pulling the hood of a black raincoat over her head. Her bright yellow velvet sweat-suit pants peeked out the bottom. “You’ll catch pneumonia out here.”
“It’ll be okay.” I pulled up the hood of my own raincoat, squinting up at the dark sky. Drops shimmered in the battery-powered lamp I held, sparkling as they fell. “A moon would’ve been helpful.”
“Did you tell her, hon?” Dizzy called out as we neared the new cauldron site. A party tent sprawled across the top, held up on metal poles and draping down a little on the sides. If the wind kicked up any more, raindrops would be blown in through the sides, drenching our bottom halves.
Emery waited by the cauldron, still toting the orange juice jug, though he’d taken his raincoat off. Despite his long-sleeved shirt, he didn’t seem to feel the chill. He was probably too busy wondering how he got himself into this mess—or how he could best get himself out of it.
“Sorry,” I said as I ducked under the tent and took my place at his side. “It’s just—”
“Because you really could just stay indoors,” Dizzy said as Callie trudged into the tent after me. “That’s what Callie and I did. And look, it worked.”
“I’m not about to start questioning you now,” Emery whispered, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Penelope Bristol, dancing in the rain is one thing, but you’ve dragged us all out here for something the Bankses say isn’t necessary.” My mother stalked up with her shotgun. She was ready for a battle.