“She’s Reagan’s friend,” Smokey said.

“She’s on Reagan’s front porch. They better be friends, or this lady here would find herself in a bad situation.” The newcomer slipped his phone into his pocket. “Who’re you?” he asked me.

“I said, she’s—”

“I know she’s Reagan’s friend,” the newcomer said, palming his chest. “I heard that. What I’m asking is, what’s her name?”

“You should make yourself clearer,” Smokey said.

“You should mind your business,” the newcomer shot back. He raised his eyebrows at me. “What’s your name?”

“Penny,” I said before I could stop myself. I wasn’t used to hiding my identity in normal—well, normal-ish—settings. “But don’t blab that around.”

The man took a step back, all the way into the street now, and showed me his palms. He looked incredulous. “Do I look crazy to you? I’m not about to go talkin’ about Reagan’s business. I got enough problems.”

Smokey nodded in approval.

“I’m Jerome, but people call me Mince,” phone guy said. He crossed the threshold of the property and stepped onto the lawn, clearly coming forward to shake my hand.

“No, no, you—” I said as Smokey stuck out a hand in warning.

Mince’s fingertips hit the invisible barrier at the edge of the porch, far enough back that a regular Joe wouldn’t reach it unless he was trespassing. A flare of light preceded a loud zinging noise. Mince’s body rocketed backward, hitting the sidewalk before rolling into the street.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” I asked, coming around the banister of the porch and stopping at the top of the steps. I didn’t want to break the barrier in case he was pissed.

“Huuuuuugh.” Mince shook like he’d just been fried with electricity. Which, magically speaking, he had been. “Huuuuughnga.”

“I can’t… I don’t know what you’re saying,” I said apologetically.

“Hung nafunga. Uuuuugh.” He convulsed to his side and then rolled over onto his stomach before lying there for a moment.

“Should you help him up?” I asked Smokey.

“Reagan told everyone to stay off her lawn. He shoulda known better,” Smokey said without remorse.

“I mean…” I looked down at the little manicured patch of grass, the only one on the block. “Grass is made to be walked on.”

“When it comes to Reagan, you do what she says, or you get an awful surprise. Mince just got an awful surprise. He should’ve known better.”

Mince stiffly pushed up to his hands and knees, groaning. “She…looks…innocent. Uuuugh.”

“The most dangerous ones always do.” Smokey glanced in the other direction as the sound of a car going too fast barreled down the street. “The best assassins are the sexy, manicured ones, aren’t they? You shouldn’t let appearances deceive you.”

Mince looked over his shoulder at Smokey, his face a mask of anger. “Ain’t no…ass-ass-ins ’round…here.” A tremor shook him.

“How do you know? Do you know everyone?” Smokey asked.

Head shaking, Mince painfully got to his feet. He gave me a glance from beneath lowered brows.

“Sorry,” I said.

His body convulsed before he stiffly strode away, muttering to himself.

“I really was going to warn you,” I called after him.

“Don’t worry about him,” Smokey said, still non-plussed. “He forgot himself for a moment. That was his fault, not yours. He knows better.”

“Maybe this wa— Um. This…security device is a little too strong.”

“Forgive me for saying, but you don’t seem like the type to hang around here. And Reagan doesn’t seem like the type to have roommates. So if you’re here, there’s a reason for it. And that probably means you need strong protection. Don’t go second-guessing yourself.”

“Yeah, well…” I couldn’t really argue with that.

I blew out a breath, still feeling that tug of magic calling to me from the cemetery. Promising me something I’d been missing.

“How bad of an idea would it be just to run over there really quick, do you think?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t do that, Miss Penny. Not if you’re in need of protection.” Smokey moved to the edge of the steps. “You have no idea what has been seen in that cemetery. Human and magical both. There are bad people that roam through there.”

“But you said the Ladies of the Light—”

“They aren’t bad, no, but they might be set upon at any moment by a swarm of birds that turn into hideous monsters. Or a black magic coven that kills small animals. Or a thug wanting a cheap fix or some dough. You never know.”

I paused at the end of the steps, debating. He was certainly right. It was a cemetery, for criminy sakes. Anyone who was up to no good would head to a cemetery. That was true of any city in any town across the world. This one, smack in the middle of Reagan’s weird neighborhood, in particular. Smokey was right: there could be any number of really nasty things hanging around.

And then there was the most obvious threat, the Mages’ Guild, lying in wait for me to cross the threshold keeping me safe.

I turned back and looked at the house, a sanctuary if ever there was one. All the while, my temperamental third eye buzzed, begging me to walk across that street and see what was there.

My temperamental third eye had gotten me into a lot of trouble in the past.

But it hadn’t always been wrong…

I was walking before I could talk myself out of it.

21

“Wait. Penny. Miss Penny.” Smokey caught up with me. “Can I just call you Penny? What do your people call you?”

“Naive, mostly.” I made it to the other side of the street and stalled at the entrance to the cemetery. Strange feelings washed over me. Dense and thick, they seeped into my middle and took up residence. Not magic, or at least not any kind of magic I’d encountered.

“Are ghosts real?” I asked softly, starting forward again, albeit much slower.

“I’m inclined to think so, based on all the other things that are real.”

“Good point.” I blew out a breath, a creepy-crawly sensation taking over my body.

“They won’t hurt you, though. Of the things that might be in this—”

“I got it, I got it. That doesn’t change my terrible decision-making process. Where are these witches?”

He hesitated a moment, clearly not sure if he should help me.

“It’ll make things faster if I know where I’m going,” I whispered, moving down the concrete path, large gravestones to either side.

“Take a left when you’re able.”

I could’ve taken a left after each gravestone, but I figured he was talking about an actual path. When I came upon one, the same size as the one we were on, I did as he said and kept going. Soon he had me take a right, and my final instruction was to go straight back until I hit the wall.

“Will we walk right into them?” I asked, stooped now and half crouched, like a burglar.

“No. We’ll skirt beside them, go beyond them, cut in, and then sneak back toward them in the shadows.”

“My mother would batter me senseless if she knew I was getting tips from a person who lurks around in the shadows.”

“I like to know what’s going on without being seen.”

“Yes. I caught that.”

“Keep your voice down. They’ll be right up here off to the right. Drift this way.” He moved toward the left, and I followed, thankful he hadn’t put his hand on my shoulder in silent communication. The magic felt lovely and calming, but I was still traipsing around a weird-feeling cemetery in the dark after being blitzed with warnings about bad things. I wasn’t positive I’d be able to refrain from zapping him, or worse.

A few steps later, I could see candlelight flickering through a row of gravestones. A slim form moved in a languid sort of way, hands raised toward the sky. Another form, this one clearly a woman, had her hands raised in exactly the same way. I saw a couple more, all of them in the same pose, most wearing rings of flowers around their heads, some swaying in place to silent music. The one whose face I could see had a serene smile.