Born in Fire (Page 43)

“Look at what I’m doing. I’m fixing it!” Dizzy said as he set upon the clumps of mud with a broom and dustpan.

Callie took another sip of her Irish coffee.

“Right. So he has the shed, and you have your ridiculous sweats,” I said.

“I told her,” Dizzy said, grinning as he worked.

Callie glowered. “It’s ridiculous to tell me I can or can’t wear something because of my age. I will not yield to a twenty-year-old trying to bully me!”

“No one, not a teen, a twenty-something, an old lady, or an old man, for that matter, should wear pink velvet sweats with ‘Juicy’ written on the ass. There is no age where that looks good.”

Callie turned around and pointed at her butt. “You stand corrected.”

Dizzy looked her way, rolled his eyes dramatically, and bent down to the next pile of dirt. I couldn’t help giggling like an idiot, especially since Dizzy hadn’t taken off his filthy shoes.

“So, what do you need?” Callie said, leaning on the counter and sipping her drink.

The atmosphere in the kitchen changed from light and fun to somber and pressurized in an instant. I took a slug of my beer and gently set it down on the granite.

“I need to buy some spells,” I said, staring at the bottle.

“What kind of spells?”

I reached into my pouch and pulled out my list. Without a word, I slid it across the counter.

She unfolded it. Her gaze traveled down the page before she shifted and held it out to the side. Dizzy walked over, creating a fresh trail of dirt, and took it.

Callie’s gaze returned to my face. “Those that were crossed off?”

“I have them, obviously.”

“From who?”

“From whom, honey,” Dizzy muttered, looking the list over.

“A couple different sources,” I said, resting my hand on my pouch. I still didn’t have enough spells to warrant a satchel.

“Some of these require some real experience,” Dizzy said, poking the page with his finger.

“Names,” Callie said. She took another sip, seeming casual, but the keenness in her gaze told another story.

“Allen from the French Quarter—he’s a witch—and Julie and Toss, who are mages.”

“Oh no, they aren’t worth buying from,” Dizzy said, wandering to the counter and pulling out a drawer. He started rifling through it without looking. “They aren’t even competition.”

“I usually don’t buy spells.” I shrugged. “I have a little money now, but I don’t have the hookups. I didn’t know where else to go.” I shrugged again, this time in embarrassment. I’d only just met them and already I was using their love for my mother to call in a favor. It wasn’t right, but I didn’t have much choice.

Without a word, Callie poured herself more coffee. Dizzy had found a pen and was now writing on my list, his face very close to the page.

Callie took out the whiskey, poured more, left it on the counter, and leaned down again. Her gaze returned to me. “I need the full story, starting from the beginning. I want to know why you’re involved with the vampires, and what they have on you…why you need these spells, and how you’re planning on using them. After that, we’ll take a look at the things you’ve crossed out on that list. Only then will we make a plan of action. I won’t help you until I know the full story.”

“I can’t tell you the full story,” I said, thinking of the unicorns. “Some things you’re better not knowing. I don’t want your involvement recorded, either. If this goes sour, they might go after anyone who played a part.”

Dizzy started to chuckle, still bent over the page. “If I know my wife, she’s hoping they do. She’s been bored for far too long. The rich life doesn’t suit her.”

“It suits me a lot more than that shed would,” Callie said. She held up a finger to me, got a chair, sat down, and motioned me onward. “Tell me everything except what you absolutely can’t.”

I did. Like a faucet that wouldn’t turn off, I opened my mouth and spilled it all out. Instead of unicorns, I said beasts, and neither talked about their blood nor my near-death experience—not in so many words, anyway—but I gave the gist. When I was done, Dizzy was seated beside his wife, his hand resting on my list.

Silence filled the kitchen and the sun had disappeared from the sky.

“That vampire should be meeting you about now, correct?” Callie asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you think he’ll find you here?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t being followed today, so he’d have to piece together where I was, what I was doing, and where I’d be forced to go.”

“He’ll know to find you here” Dizzy said, resting his elbow on the counter and his chin on his fist. “Might take a couple hours, but he’ll figure it out. He’s the smartest, most well-organized vampire I’ve ever dealt with. Head and shoulders above his minions. There’s a reason he’s still alive, and you’re lucky you hooked up with him.”

“How did I not know you were having a love affair with a vampire?” Callie asked.

“Oh no, you’re sleeping with him?” Dizzy ran his hand through his thinning hair. “He is one of the best, but I don’t advise going that far, Reagan. Vampires have a way of trapping humans with their sensuality. They are predators, after all, and humans are easy to manipulate in that way.”

“I meant you, you ape.” Callie scoffed at her husband, finally dislodging her gaze from me. “Talk about bromance.”

“Oh.” Dizzy’s face turned red. “I respect him.”

She gave me an exasperated look perfected by married women the world over. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“What happens if he doesn’t show?” Callie asked.

“He’ll show. He is a man of his word.” Dizzy patted the list for some reason.

Callie ignored him and awaited my answer.

“I’ll take down their army and claim my mark. I’ll store the mage somewhere safe, get information out of him, and then trade him for my money.” I leaned more heavily against the counter. “And I’m late for the first leg of my plan.”

“Which is?”

I brought out the note with the locations of his past visits, ignoring for now the meeting site. “To check these places out and take down anyone hanging out there.”

Callie took a closer look at the note before hauling herself off the chair and leaving the room.

“Why do people keep doing that to me?” I muttered.

“Let’s see what you have so far.” Dizzy’s gaze went to my shoulder. He frowned and looked under the island, only then revealing what he was looking for. “You keep your spells in a fanny pack?”

I gave him a flat stare. Couldn’t people see the difference?

“Let me see what’s in it,” he said, putting out his hand.

“Okay, but some of the spells are volatile. You don’t want to shake too hard. Or mess with them too much.”

“I am a trained professional, Reagan Somerset,” he said disapprovingly. He shook his hand at me. I handed over my leather pouch.

Callie reappeared with a laptop. As Dizzy muttered, sorting through my stuff, she looked up each of the addresses, her frown becoming more pronounced with each one.

“I don’t like this,” she said, turning the computer so Dizzy could see. She pointed at the screen, the image lost to me because of the way it was turned. “See the way that front yard is set up?”

“Defensive spell paradise.” He frowned. “A small opening for the front walk where a lot of power can be rooted for maximum effect.”

“Spells can be bound to the earth along this hedge, making it three times as hard to break through.” She took her finger away from the screen. “They’re all like this. If there isn’t a natural hedge, there are wooden stakes beaten into the ground with ivy strung across. This mage knows how to fortify.”

“I can cut through,” I said. “I know how that mage’s power works.”

“Not before I have a look, you won’t.” Callie crossed to the fridge and took out a bottle of water.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

Dizzy folded my list. “We’re going with you, obviously.”

Chapter Nineteen

An hour later and teamed with two older mages who would not be dissuaded from extremely reckless behavior, I crouched between two cars with my sword in hand (they hadn’t had time to alter it), looking at the largest and most recent hideout. It was about an hour outside of New Orleans, a mile from its nearest neighbors on all sides, and—just as Google Maps had warned us—surrounded by a large hedge with a narrow passageway to the front door.

“Are we really going in without a plan?” Callie asked, bending over beside me wearing night-vision goggles. Dizzy leaned on the other side, both of them clearly sticking out above the car and apparently not caring. Then again, though they were spry and didn’t look it at all, they’d revealed they were in their sixties. Jumping up from a crouch was probably not in their arsenal.