Pop!

The sound was jarring. Women screamed. Men jerked. John bent and threw his hands up over his head, dousing himself in his drink.

“Magic should be marveled at and respected,” I said loudly, intending the whole room to hear. No doubt I was making things super awkward again. But I couldn’t help it. These mages, who’d been lucky enough to grow up with magic, were so ensnared in one-upmanship that they’d lost sight of what made magic great. “It’s natural, it’s beautiful, and it exists all around us. It should be revered.” I let the elements I’d collected dissipate back into the environment. “It shouldn’t be used for some sort of ego boost. If you aren’t good enough without magic, then you will never be good enough with it.”

Mary Bell rapped her cane on the ground. “Hear, hear!” she shouted.

“I don’t have as much exuberance as that woman, but I agree,” Veronica said, nodding. Eyebrows rose, and people looked back and forth between Callie and Veronica. John watched her closely as he straightened up.

“Oh…” She pointed at herself. “I’m a nobody. My magic is in my pen. I’m just here for moral support and to make sure my friend doesn’t do anything hasty.”

I turned toward John, but spoke loudly enough for the others to hear me. “I’m not sure what sort of proof you were looking for. Admittedly, Emery doesn’t care about pecking orders. Or sticking around—not that it’s given me a complex or anything. I could very well be less powerful than he said. But I don’t care about being the best. What I do care about is learning as much as possible. If I don’t, the Guild is going to capture me, probably punish me for ruining their compound, and then chain me to their organization. I’m just here to learn. Everything else is a sideshow act.”

I paused for effect, but Veronica gave me a small shake before I could continue to spew word salad.

“You should probably stop while you’re ahead,” she whispered, pulling me away.

She had a fair point, though “ahead” was up for debate.

“I don’t think I belong here,” I murmured as she led me to the kitchen. “I’m clearly not like these people. They all think I’m nuts.”

“Callie and Dizzy don’t think you’re nuts—”

“They think I’m naive, which is bad enough. Even if it’s still mostly true.”

“—and that girl Reagan that broke you out of the broom closet in that old church doesn’t think you’re nuts—”

“That’s because she’s insane.”

“—so I really think you’re overreacting. Look.” She sat me down at the kitchen island and moved to the cabinet before taking out a bottle of tequila. It was a whiskey house, but I hadn’t developed a taste for it. I was just fine with hanging out in Margaritaville. “Had you been trained in all of this from an early age, you’d probably think exactly like they do. It is a learned social structure, and it feels good to be at the top of it. But because you’ve never fit into any social structure…at least not near the top, or in the middle…or kind of even at the bottom—”

“What if I don’t want to fit in?”

“Then I can stop lying, because as much as I hope you’ll fit in, I’m not sure I actually believe it.”

I blew out a breath as she pulled out a bottle of fresh-squeezed lime juice and a shaker. Callie didn’t believe in pre-made margarita mixers.

“Emery and I fit together.” I put my elbow on the counter and leaned my cheek against my fist. “He thought my quirks made me a better mage. Callie and Dizzy are trying to iron them out.”

Veronica grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t know what to say about that. I mean, your mom tried to iron out your quirks throughout your life. She’s the biggest steamroller in the world, and it didn’t work.”

“She wasn’t trying to teach me magic, though.”

“No, she was trying to teach you to fit in.”

“Yeah, well, consider the source.”

Veronica burst out laughing. “This is true. She is a bit on the eccentric side.”

“She’s a looney. Clearly that’s where I got it from.” I massaged my eyes with the heels of my hands. “Was this the right choice? Moving here, being a part of mage society, getting trained by Callie and Dizzy—”

“Yes. And do you know how I know that?”

“How?”

“Your mother stayed in Seattle to passively spy on the Guild, and she left you in their care.” Veronica poured the margarita into a glass. “There is no way she would’ve done that if this wasn’t the absolute best thing for you. Maybe the only thing for you.”

“True.” I sipped my drink and my face instantly contorted, my eye squeezing shut. “You didn’t get that drink quite right.”

“No?” She tasted it and jerked back. “Definitely not, no. Man, I thought I was better at making these.” She dumped the contents back into the shaker. “Anyway, you don’t have to fit in, but you should make friends. Acquaintances, at the very least.”

“True.” I slumped. “Which means I should go back out there and apologize.”

“Yeah, probably. Though that guy had it coming. I mean, what sort of douche planet did he come from? Oh, and he wants to be—”

“Knock, knock.”

Veronica froze mid-rant with wide eyes and an open mouth. We both snapped our faces toward the archway to the kitchen, where John stood with his charming, toothpaste-commercial smile. “Penny, got a minute?”

Veronica shot me a what should I do? glance.

“It’s okay,” I said softly, clasping my fingers in front of me.

“Right.” Veronica set the mixer on the counter next to my drink. “I’m probably needed out there, anyway. For some reason.”

“I just wanted to apologize,” John said after she stalked from the room with a straight back. “It sounds silly, but you get caught up in all the politics when it comes to this stuff, you know?”

I didn’t, so I chanced a smile.

“You get into the upper levels of magic, and people start expecting certain things from you.” He peered into the shaker. “Oh. Here.”

“No, it’s—” But he was already pouring the still-unsweetened contents into my glass. I chanced another smile. “Great. Thanks.”

“Your perspective is fresh.” He paused for a beat, and it seemed like he was chancing his own smile that he clearly didn’t feel. “I like it.” He pushed the glass forward. “Anyway, I get where you’re coming from. And I believe you. I mean, I saw it with my own eyes, right? You made magic without having any ingredients in your hands. Unless you were holding a casing I couldn’t see…” His voice drifted away and his eyes delved into mine, searching. A moment later, he laughed. “Just kidding.” He stuck out his hand. “Friends?”

Veronica was right, this guy was definitely from a douche planet of some sort, but I still needed to make friends and somehow immerse myself into the magical world. He had power and knowledge—he could learn to fight. And would have to, because I’d plop him down on the front line when the Guild charged me.

I put my hand in his. “Friends.”

3

The next morning, I awoke from a bang!

“Farmer John’s Sausages!” I threw off the covers, waved my hand through the air, and sprang from my bed—all in one harried, dizzied moment. I hit the ground with a solid thunk, echoing the door hitting the wall and rattling off its hinges. A heavy boot landed on the hard wooden floor, and I popped up as streams of magic swirled through the air.

Before my spell was fully realized, the magic dissolved like cotton candy in the rain. Absolutely nothing remained in its absence—no intent, emotion, or residue.

Crap.

Reagan was back in town.

“White flag, white flag,” I yelled, waving my hands above my head.

“Your mom really has you trained not to swear, huh?” Reagan stood with her hands at her sides, decked out in head-to-toe leather and thick-soled black army boots. Dirty blond hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and no eyebrows adorned her expressionless face.