“I usually don’t have partners because they are ineffective, and I need to do a better job of hiding my magic. But you’re basically in the crew now, and are quite hilarious to watch, so I’d consider adopting you.”

“No thanks. And I still don’t know a thing about your magic.”

“You say that now, but wait until you get even a little more experience and miss the thrill of making shit up. You’ll definitely want to be my partner to keep things interesting. And you know plenty about my magic. We train together, for feck’s sake. You’re just slow at piecing things together.”

“How am I slow?” I asked, outraged. “I know next to nothing about the magical world, and while you tell me plenty about your magical issues, none of you have told me squat about your actual magic. Or even what sort of magical person you are. Or anything!”

“You’d make a terrible detective.”

“You’re a terrible…” I grasped for something witty.

“What’s that?” she badgered, grinning at me. “Was there a cutdown coming?”

“Shut up,” I muttered, looking out the window. My palms itched and a strange expectancy filled me. “Something this way comes.”

“What is it?”

“I guess you’re not the only one with secrets.” I didn’t mention that I didn’t know the answers to my own hazy, vague premonitions. She’d just have more ammo to make fun of me. “What’s the end game here, anyway? What happens when I learn to use my magic effectively?”

“I have no idea. The big-picture stuff is Darius’s department. For the short term, I think we’re just training you up until the Guild comes for you, then we’ll band together to wipe them out. Ain’t none of that welcome in my town. Hell no. Any organization that allows innocents to be skinned to call demons needs to be ripped out at the root. I’ll make them rue the day they decided to come here looking for you.”

Reagan was referring to the case I’d helped them with in Seattle a couple months or so after the storming of the Guild compound. The mages in question had been skinning people alive to call demons into the world. It was disgusting and completely wrong, but the Guild was capable of so much worse, including killing their own members and hiding the evidence.

“So I’m stuck with you for days on end until the Guild organizes enough to kill me,” I said dismally, watching the run-down neighborhood roll by.

“They won’t kill you, no. They’ll capture you. They’ll trap you in their facility, torture you into compliance, and then slowly indoctrinate you to support their sick agenda for power and dominance. Sounds like a hoot!” We turned the corner onto our street. A moment later, Reagan tapped the brake. “Ah crap.”

She pulled over to the side of the road, down the street from her house. The man I’d met the night before, No Good Mikey, sat on some steps, watching us pull in.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, ripping my eyes forward but not seeing anything other than the large, beat-up van parked in front of us.

“I should’ve answered that call.” Reagan fished her phone out of her fanny pack before getting out of the car. I followed suit, clueless about what was happening. All I knew was that if Reagan was nervous, I’d better get ready to run.

“You gotta stop bringing that car around here,” Mikey said as Reagan walked over to him. “It’s drawing too much attention.”

“Yeah, I know.” Reagan studied her phone. “I just like driving it.”

“No shit, but unless you move to a different spot, that thing does not fit in.”

I finally got a glimpse down the street, but nothing appeared to be out of place. Until I scanned the parked cars.

“Crap.” I ducked into the shadows next to some random person’s stairs. “Why are they here?”

Reagan had the phone to her ear. “Callie wanted to check on us. When I wouldn’t call her back, she said she was coming over.”

“Oh yeah, that ol’ broad came over, all right,” Mikey said, grimacing. “She was all up in my face about where the fuck you were. I said I didn’t know. That didn’t go well. I had to get out.”

“It’s fine.” Reagan shrugged. “We can say we went out to eat.”

Mikey turned to look at me. “She looks a mess.”

I patted my hair and palmed my clothes. “Why? What’s wrong with me?”

“You look like you’ve been through hell and need to find a darkened closet, a bottle of wine, and some alone time, that’s what you look like. Had a rough night?”

“I mean…” I shrugged, straightening my top. “Just running for my life, is all.”

He grunted and nodded. Apparently that squared with his impression.

“Good point.” Reagan tapped on the banister. “I’ll say I took her to the warehouse to train. Or to a park. Or something.”

“Might as well just come clean. It’s always worse when they catch you lying.” Mikey sucked his teeth. “And she’ll catch you, mark my words. She’ll keep picking until you’ll want to pull your fucking eyes out of their sockets.”

“Gracious,” I muttered. This guy was really colorful.

Reagan blew out a breath. “We need to face the music. Come on, Penny, let’s get in the car. And put your battle face on. You look like you’re about to get a whipping.”

“You better hope that’s all you get from that broad.” Mikey shook his head. “She’s crazy.”

“She hasn’t given a blood offering to the ward,” I said with a sinking stomach as I sat into the car. “She will have had to stand around outside. She hates that.”

“I realize that,” Reagan said. “There’s nothing for it, though. The longer we put it off, the worse it’s going to be.”

She revved the engine as she prepared to pull into her spot in front of her house. There stood Callie and Dizzy, right by the steps, arguing about something. Probably how to find us, kill us, and feed us to snakes or something.

As Reagan pulled in, electricity sizzled up my arms before sinking into my body, an energizing, delicious hum that immediately stabilized the magic zinging through me.

I sucked in a startled breath, eyes wide, knowing exactly when I’d last felt that way.

“What’s wrong?” Reagan said, parking but not turning off the car. Or unlocking it.

Callie and Dizzy were looking in at us, one with thunder clouds rolling across her face, and the other with a brow furrowed with concern, probably at the tongue lashing we were about to get.

On the other side of the steps, standing in the shadows with his hands in his pockets, was the man who had walked away. Who’d told me to move on.

He’d come back.

“Who’s that beyond my stairs?” Reagan asked. “He’s a big dude. He can handle himself in a fight, I can tell.” A surge of her magic filled the car.

“Emery,” I whispered. “The Rogue Natural.”

She gave a long, low whistle. “Are you sure he’s not a vampire?”

“Of course I’m sure. Why?”

“Because he is a looker. Am I going to like him or hate him?”

“I don’t care.”

She flinched away from me with a giant smile. “Oooh, he’s good for you. I suspect I’m going to like him. Come on, let’s go meet Romeo.”

“Where the hell have you been?” Callie demanded as soon as Reagan half stepped out of the car. “I have been waiting here for nearly an hour, worried sick. Do you not know how to use your phone? Are those your battle leathers? Reagan Somerset, you had better start explaining yourself, or I’m going to rip your magic away and beat you with it.”

“That’s not even possible. Did you make sure you weren’t followed?”

Callie pointed at Emery. “With his help, yes. Very helpful, trained naturals.”

Reagan walked around to my side and tapped on my window. “Out ye git.”

My eyes were locked on Emery’s, and I delighted in the power surging between us, open and raw and wild. This was how I’d felt with those witches, only a hundred times more powerful and thrilling. It occurred to me that while he’d been trained the traditional way, he’d never acted covetous of his power or magical knowledge. He’d figured out almost immediately that I liked to share, and he’d allowed me to do just that. He’d never once shut me out, and when he had been teaching me, he’d never done so at a distance.