Jimmy stared down someone who had stopped outside the bar and looked in. The poor guy with the strange taste in Hawaiian shirts clearly liked the music and was thinking about a libation, but the intense furrow in Jimmy’s bushy unibrow scared him off. He skulked farther on down.
“We got mages.” Jimmy spat to the side, nearly hitting Emery’s shoe. “Sorry, bro.” He curled his lip. “Heard someone talking about some nasty shit. Shit I don’t even want to repeat. Got him all sorts of power, la-dee-da. Had to brutally kill someone to get it. Didn’t seem to bother him.” He shifted to a wide, aggressive stance. His magic, the call of the sea, deep and powerful, washed over me. “I threw his ass out. Said he couldn’t be talking about none of that in my bar. Hell no. But he has friends. I know he does. Shifty-eyed, scrawny little hacks coming in here and staring holes in my back. When I look around, they have something else taking up their attention. Driving me crazy. But I don’t know no more than that. I don’t know enough to start banning people. Hell, I don’t even know who to ban.”
“Any other bars you’ve heard about this happening in?” Emery asked.
“A couple. All magical clientele. But again, aside from a few things people have mistakenly overheard, that’s all we know. It’s bugging me out. At least you can tell when it’s a vampire. Hell, even you.” He gestured at Reagan. “You smell different. Do I care why? No, I do not. I know you ain’t human, I know to watch my six around you, and that’s that. But these fuckers.” His lip curled again. “They’re dressing like tourists. They’re drinking and trying to fit in. I don’t know one from the other, but I know they ain’t right in the head. I know they don’t give two shits about killing people. That’s got me jumpy, I don’t mind telling you. I do not want that shit in my town, do you hear me?”
“The real question is, does Roger hear you?” Reagan asked, a gleam in her eyes as she surveyed the street in front of her. It was the look that promised action, and I was just thankful not to be on the other end of it.
“Yeah, he knows, but he doesn’t know how big the threat is yet. Doesn’t know how many people to bring in.”
“Tell him the Rogue Natural is on scene. We’ve got both targets in town, together. It’ll draw big numbers.”
Two younger girls stopped outside the bar and looked in before shooting furtive glances at Emery. They giggled, and one flicked her hair.
“Hey, you coming in?” Jimmy asked in a rough voice.
The smiles faltered. The one with long blond hair batted her Bambi eyes at Emery. “Well? Are we?”
They both giggled. I wanted to swat her.
“No, no!” Reagan stepped in front of Jimmy and pointed a finger at the girls. “No way. He’s taken.” She jabbed a finger at Emery, who cracked a grin. “Don’t you be creepin’ on my girl’s man. He’s not for you. I will cut you, do you understand me?” Eyes wide and smiles dipping in confusion, the girls started backing away. “I will cut you if you so much as glance his way. Tell all your friends. He’s off the table, bitches.”
Faces fallen, the girls hurried off. I couldn’t do much more than stare.
“That was a bit much,” Jimmy said, putting his hand in front of Reagan without touching her. “Respect, but it was a bit much.”
Reagan laughed and stepped back. “I’ve always wanted to do that. I could get down with having a girlfriend to defend.”
“You don’t need more reasons to fight.”
“What a horrible thing to say to me.” She cracked her knuckles. “Speaking of starting fights, let’s see who’s in the bar today. If Red comes back, don’t let him in. He’ll just tell Roger on me.”
Jimmy shrugged. “Back corner. Glasses,” he said, waving her in. “Give him hell. We need to clean up this town.”
Reagan stopped me before entering the doorway. “Give me a moment. Then drift off to the right and try to find a corner. Emery, head to the nearest end of the bar. We’re splitting up.”
“That’s not a good idea,” he said, his hand firm on my back.
“I need Penny to draw on heartstrings, and she’ll do that better alone in a corner. As for you, I want to see who recognizes you. That’ll be telling.”
“And you?” he asked quietly.
“Why, I’ll raise hell, of course. Smacking down mages in bars seems to be a specialty of mine.”
34
Emery took my hand as Reagan drifted into the bar, her posture a little hunched and her head pointed down a bit. It was her version of skulking, even though she still looked like she was about to kill everyone in the place. Electricity sizzled up my arm and fizzled through the air, crackling with static.
“Whoa, shit.” Jimmy stepped away from us. “You guys are packing some heat, huh? Don’t blow this place up. I need this job.”
“Hey,” Emery whispered into my ear, his chest against my arm. The chill on the air caressed my skin and the breeze flicked my hair. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you, okay? You don’t have to be scared.”
“It’s okay,” I said, closing my eyes as the throb and wobble of the world around me simmered down into a steady hum. The feel of Jimmy’s magic drifted over me like sea foam, soft and salty, lightly scratching. For a moment, the call of the blue depths of the ocean tugged at my heart, begging me to return and drift among its currents. Promising to protect me.
Other magic pushed at me from all directions. Spicy, sweet, gritty, thick—the patrons of this bar represented a cross-section of the magical community, I could feel it. Though I didn’t know what they were, the shape of their magic was taking form for me as it played, pushed, or messed with mine.
“Step back. They’re going through something, here,” I heard Jimmy say, his magic vibrating around me, wanting to lead me to his home. To the place he felt the most comfortable. The most powerful. So he could help.
“Keep your eyes out—that is help enough,” I murmured, concentrating on the magical bubble that sprang up so easily whenever Emery was around. “The balance is so easy with you,” I whispered.
“I’ll make sure no harm comes to you,” Emery said.
“It’s okay,” I repeated. “I’m used to being scared in this town. It’s a normal state of affairs. If I start running, look around for danger.”
I fluttered my eyes open and walked forward, wondering if I’d be able to hold the balance as his body drifted away from mine. He’d been right. This mutual sharing brought a different feeling than simply reaching out and using his magic. It was a calm, peaceful place that made it easier for me—and him, I sensed—to properly feel the world around me.
I wondered if I could bring Reagan into it.
I wondered if I’d be able to do magic comfortably without it, now that I’d experienced its comforting embrace.
I wondered why the heck I was suddenly the center of attention.
Almost every eye in the bar had turned to me. I’d stopped just inside the doorway, my hands at my sides and my body straight and tall.
Hunch, you idiot! You’re Captain Skulks-a-Lot, not a super fighter like Reagan or Emery. Own your mantle.
I bowed my back, but it was too late. Two guys had turned toward me with lopsided grins and puffed-out chests. Farther down, a woman had narrowed her eyes at me, and it clearly wasn’t because of the two non-magical tourists with too much alcohol in their system. A pair of middle-aged men met my eyes with sparkles of menace before slowly turning around to their drinks, not saying a word or looking at each other.
The Guild was in this bar. But they were far from the only magical people present. A row of rough-and-tumble men and women had bristled into a state of readiness.
Ready to help me, I gathered.
I could feel it like I had with Jimmy. Their power surged up around them, stuffing the air with territorialism and vicious intent. They felt threatened by the mages, and planned to do anything in their power to extinguish that threat.
I was the thing that could help them, and whatever magical feelers I’d put out had them convinced I could help them.