Born in Fire - Page 47/65

“So I walked closer, trying to figure out what the deal was. Before I got there, the door flew away. Blew out like a bomb went off. So I hurried up, then. I got a house right next door. No way do I need my house blown the shit up, know what I’m sayin’?”

“Yes, I’m with you so far.”

“Sure enough, that bastard was lightin’ fires inside.” He blew out a breath and dramatically shook his head, making his body sway from side to side. “Nope.” He waved his finger in the air. “Nope.”

“Nope, meaning you actually did something, or that you stayed silently angry?”

“I went and got my gun, that’s what I fuckin’ did. Ain’t no motherfucker setting fires in my zone. You think I made it through Katrina to get burned out? Fuck that!”

I paused in front of him. He cleared out of the doorway and backed up to the front door, giving me a wide berth. Strangely, it made me relax that much more around him. He was respecting my space.

“Then what happened?” I asked, checking the time. Nearly four in the morning. I needed to get some sleep before I went and bought more spells. After that, it was home invasion time. I wanted to do unto others as they had done unto me.

“I walked into this motherfucker and tried to shoot a bitch, that’s what happened.”

My mouth dropped open. I blinked a couple times. I hadn’t been expecting that response. “That was one way to call the cops,” I said.

He chuckled and cracked his knuckles. “Anonymously, yeah. I popped off a couple rounds, made sure that sucker ran so you didn’t get your house seized for a murder investigation, then got out myself. I didn’t want to be home when the police drove through.” He scratched his chin, a sound like rubbing sandpaper. “I mean, I know you rent or whatever, but the way I hear it, you’re gettin’ a good deal. You don’t want to go and mess that up.”

“Are you the one who put my door back?”

“Yeah. To keep people from looking inside. I didn’t figure you needed questions any more than I do.”

I certainly did not, from the police or anyone.

No-good Mikey had saved half my house. I scarcely knew what to say. I’d rarely said more than two words to him at one time, and though I did give him the passing nod, I didn’t show him any deference. Him putting his neck out for me, regardless of whether he had a stake in the outcome, was strangely touching.

“Thanks,” I said. It didn’t seem like enough, but I didn’t think he’d appreciate gushing.

He grunted in response.

After a moment of each of us looking around, me at a loss, him taking it all in, he asked, “What are you going to do now?”

My body filled with heat. I couldn’t contain the rage. “See how that house-burning bastard likes it when someone wanders into his home and lights shit on fire.”

Mikey started to laugh. “Atta girl. Show that rat bastard that crazy is as crazy does.”

Chapter Eighteen

Not exactly comfortable with what I was doing, I rang the doorbell and stepped back. Afternoon light filtered down from the partly cloudy sky.

I shifted, still tired from the few scant hours of sleep I’d managed. Then I shifted from side to side in anxiety and thought about leaving. I didn’t have many other options, though. So far today, I’d already met with two mages and a witch, trying to flesh out my arsenal of spells with what money I had. I hadn’t had great luck. More than half of my shopping list had yet to be crossed off, including many of the essentials. How could I possibly outdo a pack of violent, spell-hurling mages without a distraction of some sort, much less some fierce counterattacks? I couldn’t, that was how.

I swallowed my pride and rang the doorbell again. If they wouldn’t help me, I’d have to go to the mages who often worked with the shifters. The shifters had some damn good ones. The problem was, like the shifters themselves, those mages were fiercely loyal, and might not help me out of pure bullheadedness.

The lock disengaged and the door swung open. Before me stood Callie, clad in a pink velvet sweat suit. She had a sweatband around her head, containing a mess of frizzy curls. Her red face shone with moisture.

At the sight of me, her eyes lit up and a smile took over her face. “Reagan! I should’ve known it was you. No one who knows better would interfere with my workouts. Come in, come in.” She waved me in before turning, showing me the hot-pink “Juicy” spread across her butt.

There were so many sarcastic things I wanted to say that my mind froze up and I couldn’t get any of them out.

“Tea or coffee?” she asked. I saw her check her watch as she led me through the house. “What am I thinking? It’s well past noon. Beer, wine, or whiskey?”

“A beer would be great, thanks.”

“Have plans tonight, huh?” We entered the kitchen, and she gestured me toward the high chairs on one side of the island. “Grab a seat.”

“I can’t stay long.” I pulled out a chair.

“The beer told me that.” She grabbed a walkie-talkie off the wall and brought it to her lips. “T-Rex, come in.”

I wrinkled my nose. I didn’t like knowing the pet names of married people.

She repeated the words before lowering the walkie-talkie. “He’s working on a dinosaur distraction spell, trying to get it into a casing that will hold it. If I don’t use the type of spell he’s working on, he doesn’t hear my voice at all. Trust me, it took me years before I figured that out.”

“What do you need?” came Dizzy’s voice, annoyed.

“Reagan has come for a visit. She’s working tonight. Over.”

“Oh! I’ll be right in. I have another sword for her to try.”

“That’s why I was calling,” Callie muttered to herself. She squeezed the talk button. “She won’t be here long. Over.”

Silence.

Her brow lowered. “Are you coming now? Over.”

More silence.

Callie scowled and set the walkie-talkie on the counter. “No matter how many times I tell him, he doesn’t use the proper speech. Half the time he’s finished the conversation and I’m waiting on the other end, like a fool, wondering why it’s taking him so long to answer.”

“What’s the proper speech?” I asked as she moved to the fridge.

“Over. Out. Sometimes he takes a long pause, I think he’s done, go to answer, and we end up pushing the button at the same time.” She popped the top off a beer with a little too much force. “It’s a small problem, yes, but it’s annoying as all hell.”

“Got it.” I took the beer. “Thanks.”

She poured herself a coffee.

“Coffee? Really?” I asked. “My mother must not have rubbed off on you.”

Callie took the whiskey out of the cupboard. I laughed. “Ah.”

“She wasn’t the one who rubbed off on me.” Callie poured a generous helping into her coffee. “It was the other way around. My parents were from Ireland. Why do you think she used Gaelic in her incantations?”

A door opened somewhere in the house, followed by a heavy tread.

“But you use Latin,” I said.

“For the household stuff, yes. It’s like buying a Mercedes. You’re showing your prestige and status more than getting something worth the price. Gaelic is reserved for my personal collection.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No. You wouldn’t. It’s not logical.” She took a sip as Dizzy stomped into the kitchen, leaving a trail of mud and flower petals in his wake. Callie’s lips thinned and she leaned more heavily against the counter. She didn’t say a word.

A moment later, I saw that she didn’t have to.

“I’ll clean it up later, Callie, this is important.” Dizzy put a sword down on the island and peered at me. “Any feedback about the one you have?”

“No. It’s perfect.”

He nodded and pointed. “Try this one. Callie tweaked a few things, and I honed it down.”

“Do you guys always work on everything together?” I asked, holding my hand above the blade. A sort of song and spice filtered through me as the warming hum vibrated through my hand. “That’s nice.”