Natural Dual-Mage (Page 36)

Patrick hadn’t known the spell was there. That, or he’d forgotten. Either was bad, and clearly Roger had picked up on it.

“Steve,” Reagan said, pushing me forward. “I wonder if that’s the Steve we know.”

The Steve we knew turned into an enormous lion, and had helped us out in New Orleans. He’d wanted to take a tumble in the sheets with Reagan before finding out she was already spoken for. He’d been mystified to discover who (and what) had spoken for her.

Emery had stopped on the path and was staring off to the right at a tiny clearing with a patch of trampled grass. The branches of the small bushes dotting the area looked like they’d taken a beating. No spell was currently stretched across the little clearing, but as I stood there, I felt a strange sort of echo. Almost like threads of magic, weak and wispy, fluttered across the space like broken spider webs.

Hide. Fresh.

Reagan had barely stopped beside me before following the path up to the trampled area. Roger didn’t fall in behind her. Instead, with rumpled brow, he stared down at where the paths intersected.

“I’m going to just…use a casing…so as to…see if magic has been used here.” Reagan dug into her fanny pack, coming out with an empty casing she then squeezed together. Her eyes flicked to Patrick before she ripped out her sword and applied the casing to it. I had no doubt her muttered “magical spell” was nothing more than a bunch of curse words. “Spell camouflage, I’d bet. The magic was strong, but not strong enough for the residual magic to last more than a day. I’d bet this happened last night.”

“Residual magic?” I asked Emery quietly. “That’s a thing?”

Emery turned away and started walking again. When I caught up, the two of us were a little removed from the others. “Yes,” he said, “though not something I can usually make use of. The visible threads are usually gone in a couple hours. Could you feel anything?”

“A sort of echo of the spell’s intent.”

“Good.” The word was barely more than a whisper, as though he was talking to himself. “That’s another hole in our combined arsenal plugged up.”

Fast footsteps approached, and I knew the others were catching up. We walked around two more tripwires, clearly meant for whoever was using the path along the ward, before stopping at another mini-clearing. This one had older signs of disturbance, the area having nearly righted itself again.

Emery glanced at me, and I shook my head. I didn’t feel any magic whatsoever.

“Devon,” Roger barked, and the younger guy stepped up quickly, his hand still on Patrick’s shoulder. He had been told nothing, but he still knew something was amiss, and that it probably had to do with Patrick. Smart guy. “Was this reported?”

“Yes, Alpha, three days ago. Beta checked it out personally but couldn’t find any scents or tracks leading away. He assumed it was the magical workers.”

“Patrick?” Roger said, not looking at them.

“Oh. Um…yes, sir? Alpha?” Patrick shifted and pushed up his glasses.

“You’re wasting your time with him.” Reagan shook her head and wandered through the clearing, a hand held low, feeling for magic without letting on what she was doing.

“Have your people been working on this area in the last couple of days?” Roger asked, rejecting Reagan’s assessment of his hired help.

“Oh. Hmm.” Patrick turned and looked in the direction of the ward before shifting his gaze low and tracing his finger through the air. He was using the plant life to find the bright, shifting magical patch over the ward, something that screamed turnstile, letting people in and out, undetected, like a doorway.

“Text your mother,” Emery said, wrapping his fingers around my forearm. “She needs to get her task done and get out. Get them all out. Sooner the better.”

“If they were going to attack, wouldn’t they wait until nightfall so they could use their vampires?” I whispered, pulling out my phone with a shaking hand.

“I don’t know. But I’d rather not leave it to chance.” He started forward again. “Watch that ward. See how many more patches you can find.”

The perimeter of the mansion was large, certainly over a mile, maybe more than two. We didn’t walk the whole thing, but then, we didn’t need to. Every so often, another patch stood out, weakening the overall ward, allowing in anyone who held the right key.

“And what is the right key?” Emery said softly to himself, stopped at one of the areas and analyzing it.

Reagan joined us, her hands out now and feeling. Clearly she thought Patrick was too dumb to notice her lack of a fake spell.

“Is the house you’re staying in locked down?” Roger asked me, watching the others. Devon stood with Patrick, a little removed. Patrick didn’t seem overly interested in what was going on. There was a reason his peers had brought him on.

“The grounds aren’t. Those are wide open with little tattletale spells intermittently set up. We want to see who’s wandering around. The house is protected, though. We have a good ward set up. Unless you’re on the preapproved list, you’re not getting in there.”

“Is anyone wandering around?”

“Only a couple of vampires, and they’re giving the house plenty of space. Darius doesn’t seem comfortable with the situation, but he hasn’t moved us, so…”

“Picking on the one who doesn’t know to keep secrets, huh?” Reagan rejoined us with a smirk.

“Was that supposed to be a secret?” Because what a stupid secret, if so.

“Do you need to look around some more?” Roger asked, silencing his phone. The thing rang constantly. He was a busy man.

“No. We’ve got…basically what we need,” Reagan said. “We can head to the house now.”

“Wait.” Roger tapped the screen of his phone before putting it to his ear. He waited a beat before saying, “Send out Todd. We’re in the west nine.” He waited another beat before lowering the phone again. “The head mage is on his way.”

I was about to ask why they’d sent Patrick to tag along with us rather than the head mage, but it was probably the same reason the kid had been brought on in the first place. Lack of attention to detail. You couldn’t tattle on what you didn’t notice.

A couple minutes later, the sounds of crunching grass and moving foliage interrupted a mostly uncomfortable silence. A bald, stocky man sauntered along the path, his gaze down and scanning. He was identifying the various plant-life markers of the spells, something I would expect of a head mage. A satchel draped across his body, open at his side, and his pushed-back shoulders and haughty movements screamed, I’m the best mage in the world.

Emery braced himself before going utterly loose, his usual stance right before Reagan ran at him. He swaggered toward me and wrapped an arm around me possessively. Reagan stepped toward the mage with her hand out to shake respectfully.

Both of those actions set off my alarm bells. Roger must’ve thought so, too, because another blast of shifter magic slammed into us, and his scrutinizing gaze landed on the head mage.

“Hi, I’m Reagan.” Reagan pumped his hand.

“Todd, Roger’s head mage.”

“That right? Awesome. We were just admiring the ward. Did you put it up?”

Everything in me wanted to grab Emery’s arm and drag him out of there. I didn’t sense danger in any way, but Reagan’s actions were so out of the ordinary that there could be nothing short of a world crisis on the horizon.

Puffed up from the compliment, Todd nodded and crossed through the group, glancing at a distinct bush at the side before stopping. “I orchestrated it, yes,” he said, three feet from the actual ward. “I mixed a score of spells, then combined power with lesser mages in order to erect this particular ward.” He looked at dead air, pretending to study his handiwork. He clearly didn’t know who we were. “It’s my best work.”

“Oh yeah?” Reagan nodded, but didn’t correct him on the location of the ward. I knew she wasn’t too far away to feel it, which meant she was giving a subtle cue to Roger. She had faith that Roger had a good memory and sense of direction.

“How long have you worked here?” Emery asked.

Todd gave a “subtle” grin to Roger. “I’m afraid that’s classified. But I’ve worked for Roger”—he looked up at the sky—“fifteen years, is that right?”

“You were hired before I assumed the role of Alpha,” Roger said with his normal straight face.

“Right, yes.” Todd laughed. “Of course.” His chest puffed up a little more, if that was even possible. He thought he was more important than a guy who wouldn’t blink twice about ripping his throat out if he proved to be the danger Reagan and Emery clearly thought he was.

“This is why the mage life is not for me,” I mumbled. “All ego, no brains.”

Emery huffed out laughter, turning away as he did so. Clearly he didn’t realize I was as serious as a heart attack.

“Right.” Reagan glanced around before giving Roger a pointed look, no flippancy or fire in her eyes. “Let’s head back to the extremely nice house in the woods, shall we? Because despite the plain jeans and cheap T-shirt—which really works for you, Roger, don’t get me wrong—you seem to love nice things. A little like the vampires in that way, I think…”