I opened my mouth for a hotheaded and extremely swear-y rebuttal, but paused when her words finally registered. “Huh?” I managed.

“We’re working side by side. I’m learning as much as you are. You’re making me stronger at understanding spell work and unraveling it. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a peer. I have no more power over you than you have over me. Beyond that, I’m the absolute last person on this green earth who’s in a position to tell anyone the best approach for sticking to a low-key life. But you need to understand what you’re getting into. I’ll be working with other mages. Well”—she waggled her hand back and forth in a so-so gesture—“I’m supposed to work with them. They usually just slow me down. But they’ll be there. And we’ll be combating an extremely dangerous magical creature that you don’t know the first thing about. There are worse things than vampires and shifters that go bump in the night.”

“Smokey said as much.”

She nodded. “He should know. He nearly got his soul stolen by a doozie of a creature.”

I squeezed the edges of the counter to keep from grimacing.

“You’re also going to leave yourself wide open for the Guild,” she continued. “I’ll be busy. So will the other mages. You will be completely on your own. If they spot you, you’ll be ripe for the plucking.”

I blew out a breath. Even one of these risk factors should’ve been enough to keep me home. I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes on the sly, listening to my intuition.

“God, you’re weird,” I heard her say.

Not so sly, then.

Her boot scraped against the ground, shifting. She was probably anxious to get to the door. To leave.

“Let me get my stuff,” I said, hurrying to my bedroom.

“This is probably a terrible idea,” Reagan muttered as I passed.

I had to agree, but I was doing it anyway. Hopefully, this wasn’t one of the times my temperamental third eye led me into troubled waters.

23

“Let a vamp suck on your neck and get paid like a painted lady, is that it?” A pointy-faced man with a huge Adam’s apple and receding hairline stood off to the side as Reagan got out of the dented, recently scratched Lamborghini. She’d tried to slide across the hood like in a cop movie, without remembering the buckle on her fanny pack and her lack of finesse. She’d ended up scratching the car then tumbling onto her head.

Reagan shut the door, exuding a rough-and-tumble malevolence that had my stomach fluttering. She was smack dab in her element.

We were at an old-timey plantation, about an hour outside of New Orleans. From what little Reagan had heard (she apparently wasn’t overly concerned about details), a banshee gone rogue was plaguing the tourist attraction, making people drop dead with very little warning. So far, four people had suffered an untimely fate at the plantation, starting a rumor that the place was cursed, since humans didn’t believe in banshees, and hadn’t been told about this one.

“Painted lady…that’s a whore of some sort, isn’t it?” she asked, not at all bothered. “My, my, Garret, your insecurity is showing. Or are you speaking from a place of experience?”

His beady gaze shifted to me as I got out of the car. “Who’s this?”

“My work associate.”

He centered his weight, using a wide stance that spoke of authority. “Your work associate?”

“Yes, Garret, I know words are hard. I’ll give you a second to think through that sentence.”

She stalked straight past him, moving toward a group of five people gathered around a huge tree with sprawling branches that seemed to weep from it. A great house crouched in the distance, with large pillars all the way around. Manicured grass, mostly dark at this time of evening, stretched across the property with more of the large trees dotting the way.

Garret, unfortunately, caught up. “She doesn’t have associates, except for that vampire she sold herself to,” he said, eyeing me.

I pulled my sweater—some fashionably bright red affair that Marie had bought for me—tighter across my chest and hurried after Reagan. I might have more confidence now, but I’d never been the type for hostility among perfect strangers. Besides, this guy reminded me of my nemesis, stupid Billy Timmons. I didn’t intend to find a new bully in New Orleans.

Reagan stopped just outside of the circle of hard-faced men and women. One of the men, a dark-skinned man sporting a decent-sized belly, stopped what he was saying and turned toward Reagan.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said as the circle shifted, creating a hole for her to step into if she so chose. She didn’t. “My plus one decided to come.”

The potbellied man frowned before looking at me. “I didn’t authorize that. Only you are on the contract.”

“It’s fine, captain.” Reagan waved the thought away. “She knows she won’t get paid.”

“But what happens when she’s killed on the job?” Garret said, joining the circle.

“Melodramatic much?” Reagan asked. The captain shifted and put his hands to his hips, ready to object. “She’ll be fine. I vouch for her.”

“How do we know she won’t be in the way?” Garret asked.

“Because I just vouched for her. Also because she’s twice the man you are, without having a pair of dangling balls. Chew on that. You know, it really does suck to be you, Garret. I can’t think of anyone I would less like to be.”

“Big words from someone who’d be dead if it weren’t for me.” Garret gave her a smug look.

I assumed Reagan would quickly retort that such a thing was impossible. Instead, her face closed down into anger, and even in the darkness of the evening, I could see her cheeks turn red.

“What did he save you from?” I murmured, unable to help it. The guy seemed like a boob. I couldn’t imagine him saving anyone from anything, and Reagan seemed basically immortal.

“He saved me from the glory of being the best in the office. But we’ll see what’s up tonight.” Reagan adjusted her fanny pack.

“We already saw what’s up,” Garret said. “You just don’t want to admit you were a damsel in distress. Nice fanny pack, by the way. Did your new undead boyfriend buy you that?”

“For the last time, it is a pouch! Why can’t you people get names right?” Reagan said.

“Enough,” the captain said, still eyeing me. “What’s the nature of her magic?”

Reagan, clearly still mad at Garret, half turned so that the captain could see me better. I hunched under the full blast of his assessing gaze.

Silence drifted over us, and I realized that Reagan hadn’t planned to answer for me.

“She doesn’t even know her own magic—how could she possibly help us kill a banshee?” Garret asked, too loudly.

“It is a wonder you are standing so close to me, Garret,” Reagan said in a low tone. “It’s almost as if you are daring me to punch you.”

Garret’s teeth clicked shut. A moment later, he slowly edged sideways. To avoid being stuck between the two of them, the frizzy-haired woman on his other side edged away as well.

“What is your name?” the captain asked me.

“Penny,” I said quietly, still clutching my sweater. “And I’m a mage. Kind of.”

“She’s untrained. Mostly,” Reagan added.

“A kind of mage? What is that, a witch?” Garret asked.

“Keep it up, Garret. Keep it up.” Reagan rolled her neck, and a shock of intense, sharp magic rolled over me. I’d never seen someone get her dander up like this. Usually she laughed or shrugged off any sort of aggression or tomfoolery, but each of Garret’s jabs seemed to hit home.

“I operate more like a witch, yes,” I squeaked out, wishing I could embody the confidence I’d thought I’d gained.

“You operate—”

“Garret, enough.” The captain held up his hand with a whip crack of command. “I’m not sure what you mean. You are a mage, but you operate like a witch?”

“Look, you’re probably going to figure it out sooner or later, so I’ll just tell you.” Reagan hooked a thumb at me. “She’s the natural the Guild is trying to get its hands on. She has a unique magical style because she wasn’t trained from a young age. Or ever. I’m training her, in a way. Her style works very well for her. She’s not someone to underestimate, trust me. She looks all trembly and vulnerable, but if that banshee tries to throw magic her way, Penny will react in ways that will suck your balls back into your body, I kid you not.”