If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have known what properly working magic felt like for me. I would’ve tried to adapt to Callie and Dizzy’s way of things. He’d made it so I didn’t have to.

I owed him so much.

And now he was here.

Reagan knocked on my window again. “Your social awkwardness is really pushing the limits right now.”

Emery shifted a little, his big shoulders coming around so that he was facing the others. His deep voice rumbled through me, though the words didn’t take any shape.

“Nonsense. She’s just worried about what I’m going to do to her,” Callie said, snatching the keys out of Reagan’s hand and bending to the door. “Where are the locks? What car doesn’t have locks? There is nothing super about a car with no locks.”

“Just get the key fob close and it opens for you. How old is that Merc of yours?” Reagan asked.

“I drive a sensible car. With locks.” Callie did as Reagan said before pulling open the door. “Get out this instant, young lady. I do not know what that vampire was thinking, pairing you with this lunatic.” She hooked a finger at Reagan. “And I certainly don’t know what that lunatic was doing out at odd hours in the night, bringing an untrained—”

“Let’s do this inside, hon. You’ll wake all the neighbors.” Dizzy tried to shepherd her toward the stairs. “This neighborhood is probably armed.”

I clasped my hands in front of me and walked toward the stairs slowly, wanting to run to Emery and throw my arms around his neck. Wanting him to kiss me and hold me and tell me about his adventures.

Another part of me wanted to cry, to sob like a wreck and feel his arms wrap around me, for him to promise that everything would be okay.

Still another part wanted to punch him right in the face, wiping away that blank expression and eliciting some sort of emotion, even if it was anger or annoyance.

“And why did you lock me out of this house?” Callie demanded, standing at the top of the stairs with her hand held out, ready for the blood offering. “Is this your life now? No physical locks on anything?”

Reagan laughed as she climbed the stairs after Callie, pulling her sword.

“Oh now, Reagan, that’s a little much for a tiny drop of blood, don’t you think?” Dizzy asked, shrinking away from her.

“Let her try to lop off my hand. See what happens to her.” Callie lifted her chin, her hand still out.

I drifted toward the middle at the bottom of the stairs and waited, glancing Emery’s way. As if on cue, he stepped out and joined me. The air between our bodies heated with electricity.

“Hi, Turdswallop,” he said softly.

29

My heart expanded to ten times its normal size at the sound of that ridiculous nickname. I couldn’t help huffing out a laugh, expelling some of my pent-up energy. “Hi. You look good. Fresh.”

“Darius’s people cleaned me up and dressed me. Like last time.”

I nodded, waiting for Reagan to put away her sword and take out a dagger. She was like a weapons store when she went out to battle.

“Marie bought me a bunch of new clothes,” I said. “One ugly dress and suddenly I’m a pity case.”

He laughed and his body shifted, his chest pointed a little more in my direction. He leaned a little closer. I felt his desire to be near, and wanted to answer it with my own.

The pull of him washed over me, begging me to close the distance between us. Emery felt like a lifeboat in the midst of a storm. A place where I could safely unburden myself. He wouldn’t judge me or tell me I’ll get used to it—he’d just listen, and hold me, and make it more bearable.

Unless I was completely misreading him…

“Turn on the light so I can see what you’re doing,” Dizzy said, squinting at the dagger in Reagan’s hand.

“This ward is…” Emery scanned the house. So much magic pulsed in the ward that it was visible. The light flicked on, illuminating his face. His gaze came to rest on mine, and I drank in his beautiful blue eyes, so unique, with a ring of gold encircling the pupil, and from that, light blue streaking and webbing over darker blue until it all ended in a circle of smoky blue. It was like looking at the Milky Way on a clear night. “The best I have ever seen, Penny Bristol.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, my face heating with pride. Coming from him, that was an enormous compliment. “Reagan helped.”

“But I was told Reagan is not a mage.”

“No, she’s…” Reagan stopped what she was doing, the dagger suspended over Callie’s finger, and lifted her eyebrows at me expectantly. “She’s an asshole.”

“I’ve trained her well,” Reagan said.

“No, she’s just stating the obvious.” Callie sighed and reached for the dagger. “Penny, get up here and take over. Reagan is stalling.”

“I’m not stalling. I’m giving them a chance to catch up while you are distracted.” She nicked Callie’s finger. “Though she does need to do a little magic.”

Callie winced but didn’t pull back her hand. “Should he see this spell?” She nodded toward Emery.

“He’ll improve upon it.” Without batting an eye, I chose from the magic I had on standby in the cloud above me, and effortlessly re-created the weave. Reagan had been right: practicing over and over had given me magical muscle memory, and now, with the distraction of Emery standing next to me, looking at me, I just let it fly without having to think.

“Impressive,” Emery murmured, his eyes on my hands. “Is that your spell, or from a book?”

“Was that condescending?” Reagan put up her finger and tilted her head. “Judges’ ruling?”

“It would only be condescending if you were saying it,” Dizzy said with a smile, and patted Reagan on the shoulder. He stepped up to get his finger nicked.

“It originated from a book.” I waited for Dizzy’s welling of blood. “I changed it a little as our paranoia about the Guild increased, and then altered it when Reagan found holes or issues.”

“So you are a mage, then?” Emery asked Reagan. His gaze had turned analytical, even shrewd. He would soon learn that there would always be one very troubling unknown in this neighborhood. Her name was Reagan, and she delighted in being mysterious.

“Nope. An asshole, remember?” She tucked her dagger into its holster on her thigh.

Emery’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t push.

“You still didn’t tell us what you were doing.” Callie waited for me to open the door and step aside before she filed into the house, Dizzy falling in behind her.

Reagan stopped next to me, her back to Emery, who still hadn’t moved up the stairs. “I’ll keep them busy yelling at me. You know, if you want to bump uglies with Mr. Hot Pants. But if he plans on staying, we’re going to need to make some changes. I trust you. I don’t know him, which means I don’t trust him. No offense. Stranger danger, you see what I’m saying?”

While I was still trying to sort through all of that, wondering which part to respond to first, she strode through the door.

Emery looked out over the street, then up at me from under his eyelashes. I could tell he was uncomfortable, which made me nervous for how this conversation would go.

“You can come in.” I gestured at the door. “I just need some blood. Or…if you’re worried about knives, I can bring you through by touching you.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I hadn’t planned on intruding. I don’t want to mess up what you have going here. I just—” He slipped his hands into his pockets again, and my stomach knotted. “I still get forewarnings when you’re in danger. From what I can gather, I saw them when you were in Darius’s house.”

“Oh.” The breath exited my mouth in a rush. “Yeah. That was a dinner gone wrong.”

“And again earlier tonight. It looked like you were running on grass?”

“Ah. Um…” I glanced through the opened door, wondering if I should go warn Reagan that the Bankses were armed with knowledge.