Natural Dual-Mage (Page 21)

“Emery, what are you doing messing around with her?” Joe stopped in front of us, and I could see people on the other side of the bar turning and trying to look through the island of liquor bottles to watch the show.

“I’m trying to keep a low profile, bro,” Emery said quietly, his eyes still on the door.

“Then you shouldn’t have brought this chick in here with you.” Joe braced his large hands on the bar. His big arms bulged with muscle, leading up to a wide girth of shoulders and down to a brick of a body. Most shifters were impressively muscled, but Joe was a solid boulder.

“That is highly unfair,” Reagan said, spreading her hands in front of her. “I wasn’t the one that blew up your bar. Guild flunkies picked a fight with me.”

“You blew up the bar?” I asked her.

“Did she blow up the bar…” Joe’s voice rose an octave. People ducked out of the concealment of the back portion of the place and drifted toward the clear area at the end of the bar, emerging to catch the drama. “Yes, she blew up this bar! I just got it fixed up last month. And you want to come back and wreak havoc again?”

“Darius footed you the money while you waited for the insurance to kick in, didn’t he?” Reagan asked. “We took care of it.”

“You okay, Joe?” someone called from the far corner.

“Don’t know. I might need help tossing out some riffraff,” he said. “No offense, Emery, but you should’ve seen this place. She blew the whole side and back half off. That room you use sometimes—oh hi, Penny—well, that was gone. Blown to shit—”

“Yes, but…” Reagan put up a finger, “I would like to take this opportunity to remind you, once again, that a mage blew up your bar. Not me. I was an innocent bystander, like everyone else.”

“An innocent bystander?” Joe’s magic flared. “You pushed those mages to do it. You practically egged them on!”

She crinkled her nose. “I think we’re remembering different events.”

His magic pulsed harder. “You think we’re—”

“Look, look, look, hey, hey—” Emery leaned in and put his hand out between them. Without missing a beat, Reagan took a step back and turned her gaze to the door. There was something to be said for two survivors working together. And then there was me, the square peg. “Ordinarily, I’d get her out of here. You know I would, Joe. But you must know why we’re here.”

Joe took a deep breath, staring at Reagan with anger-heated eyes. “Why is she staring at the door? Who has she got following her this time?”

“Oh, nobody,” she said, her attention not wavering. “Just a druid with an interest in us. No big deal.”

Joe’s face bleached of color. His gaze sought Emery’s. “Is she for real?”

“We didn’t get a glimpse, but I’d bet my life on it,” Emery said, leaning over the bar. “We’re just looking for information. I thought I would check in. Do you have any mages stopping through here anymore?”

Joe shifted, his eyes heading toward the door as well. “If you got a druid out there, you don’t want to be staying in one place. You’d best get behind a ward.”

“Wards don’t keep them out,” Reagan said. She shrugged. “Assuming the rumors are true. That’s why they make the best magical assassins.”

“We’re better off in one location without a lot of shadows.” Emery shifted a little closer to Joe, trying to catch his focus again. “Joe, the mages?”

Joe shook himself a little, fear lingering in his eyes. “Yeah, right, uh…” A line formed between his eyebrows as he tried to snap back to reality. He’d been blindsided by our ragtag crew of mayhem. “Mages—a few. I’ve had a few wander through, eyeballing everyone. They didn’t start any trouble, though. And my people left well enough alone. But the bar is filling up, what with Roger bringing in more people.” Joe paused, as though making sure Emery was in the know. “If any mages wander in now, they aren’t long in leaving.”

“Yeah.” The word rode Reagan’s sigh. “Not good. We should’ve accounted for that.”

“What?” Joe asked, his gaze drifting back toward the door.

“We gonna get service over here, Joe?” someone shouted across the bar.

“He’s talking,” Reagan called back. “Mind your manners, or I will mind them for you.”

“Don’t you start.” Joe leveled a finger at her. “Do not start a fight in my bar. Roger might have a soft spot for you, but he does not own this bar.”

Reagan huffed and glanced at Joe. Her smile grew as she took in the serious look on his face. “If that hard mug is Roger with a soft spot,” she said, returning her gaze to the door, “I’d hate to see what he’s like with an enemy.”

“Yes, you most certainly would,” Joe said.

“Do you have any information on how the Guild is preparing?” Emery asked, his voice still low.

Joe glanced behind him, looking suddenly uncomfortable. He held up a finger to the crowd that had gathered across the bar. “Just hang on a sec, will ya? Let me sort them out, and I’ll be back.” On his way around the bar, he pointed at Reagan again. “Don’t mess with anything. I’m watching you.”

“You are very jumpy, Joe. Very jumpy.” Reagan rolled her neck. “I’m getting a bad feeling.”

Emery’s eyes hazed over for a moment, and I knew it was a premonition that warned him when someone or something was about to deliver him—or me—a death blow. He frowned and wrapped his arm around my waist. “We’ve got trouble.”

Magic cocooned us, ready to rip out the second an attack struck. But nothing happened.

“What’d you see?” I asked, noticing shifters still peering at us with interest through the island of bottles. Joe must’ve told them who we were. Basically, the crew many of them would be working with soon.

“A…warning, of sorts.” He shook his head and turned to face the door before shifting to look at the wall behind us, loosely draped in shadow. “I’ve seen one like it before, but that last one was a vision of you. Back in New Orleans. They’re not like the usual premonitions…they’re just warnings. I can’t describe it. I don’t know how to get out from under them.”

“Easy, take down the Guild,” Reagan said, bristling. She glanced behind at the wall. “Something’s not right.”

“No.” Emery let out a slow breath. He rolled his shoulders. “It isn’t. We gotta go.”

“I agree. Dang. Joe looked like he was going to spill something juicy. And if I know his type, he won’t want to tell Roger. He’s got a wife and kids; he doesn’t want to endanger them by getting wrapped up in danger.”

“How…do you know all this?” Emery asked in confusion.

“What kind of woman do you take me for—someone who doesn’t learn about people before I instigate their bars getting blown up?” She stepped toward the door, looking behind her again. “Come on. Get away from that wall. I feel like something is going to bust through it.”

“I have absolutely no danger warnings,” I mumbled, closing my eyes and feeling the magic. “Did that goblin kill my Temperamental Third Eye? Because that is going to be a problem.”

“God you’re weird.” Reagan’s boots clunked on the floor as she stepped farther away.

It hit me like a shot, making my body tingle and my legs shake. My flight reflex roared to life, insisting I get the hell out of that bar.

“Never mind. In good working order. Let’s go, no time to lose.” I blinked my eyes open and lunged after Reagan, but put on the brakes a moment later, making Emery slam into my back.

Magic surged up from outside, blackened and putrid and awful. Twisted elements rolled and surged, vile intent dripping from them and infecting everything in the vicinity.

Slice. Maim. Destroy.

“Mages, and they know we’re here. That, or they are after the shifters.” I clutched Emery’s arm. “Back door. Or do we fight?”

A loud bang sounded from the other side of the bar, followed by an explosion. The building shook and people shouted. Shifter magic exploded and the sound of ripping clothes filled the air as several people changed form.

Reagan ripped her sword off her back. “We’re in it to win it, folks. Prepare for battle.”

15

“Don’t freak out, don’t freak out.” I yanked open the compartments of my utility belt and drifted off to the side of the others, the three of us making a loose triangle. The power stones throbbed in my belt, and I lifted a couple of them out and placed them on the bar. If we had to run, I wanted to snatch them as quickly as possible.

Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky sent out a pulse of power. Emery’s Plain Jane throbbed.

“Here we go,” I said, sucking in a breath as adrenaline flooded me.

Magic tumbled through the door, hot and sticky and oh so vile. It felt wrong, worked in a way contrary to nature and fused with only the most evil of intentions.

That made it weak. Unbalanced.