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.