A smile worked up her face and her eyes sparkled. “You think you’re going to be too much for me, huh?” She pulled out another intact casing. Her eyes went vague for a moment before she gave Emery an assessing look.

“No.” I shook my head. “Nope. Not on your first time fighting him.”

Her look held all kinds of false innocence. “What?”

“No.” I shook my head again, ignoring Emery’s raised eyebrows. “I know that look. You can try it out next time. Or if we’re working together.”

“Fine.” She sighed and dropped the casing into her fanny pack. “He could’ve probably handled it, though.”

“You can feel the magic?” Emery’s eyes narrowed. “Like Penny can?”

A wary look crossed Reagan’s face. “No.” She pointed at her fanny pack. “It was color-coded. Darius is good about organizing.”

She was lying, and if Emery’s face said anything, it was that he expected as much.

“What about close combat—am I allowed to hit a girl?” he asked.

Reagan’s smile was feral. “If you think you’re fast enough, sure.” She dug out another casing from her fanny pack, holding it in her palm. Her knees bent slightly. She was ready to go.

Emery watched her for a moment before looking around the spacious warehouse. His gaze hit the doorway and then my belt. “Penny, can you empty those compartments on the ground? Preferably closer?”

I jumped up and did as he asked. “How about the power stones? Do they need to be moved?”

“You tell me. They’re your friends, not mine.” He grinned.

“Leave ’em, Penny.” All of the humor and lightness dripped off Reagan’s face. “He needs to fight his own battles.”

Emery barely cocked his head, but I could tell he heard the challenge. It was meant to rile him up. I couldn’t tell if he was rising to the bait.

Reagan worked the casing from her palm to her fingertips before pinching it and smashing it against the base of her sword. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to squish too easily, as if this one had already been opened. Her lips moved and I heard soft muttering, but no magic climbed the metal of her sword.

“Latin?” Emery asked.

Reagan finished whatever she was saying before tossing the empty casing behind her. “I’m fancy.”

“We’ve already established that I’m a natural who can see magic.”

“Thanks for the summary.”

“So is what you just did supposed to fool me?” Emery’s face was perfectly straight. “Or Penny?” He didn’t seem to be joking.

“Yeah,” Reagan responded. “Did it?”

A whirl of magic exploded from the items I’d littered around the room, rushing toward Emery furiously. He lifted his hands in front of him, his fingers moving.

Reagan launched forward, sprinting at him.

Not four steps in and his first spell was already jetting through the air, rough and wild, glowing blue.

“Holy shit stains, Batman. That was fast.” Reagan cleaved through the spell, leaving a line of charred magical ends in the sword’s wake. The spell dissipated into the air. She barely lost speed.

Another spell was zipping at her a moment later, reddish, tightly woven, and throbbing with power. Its intent was to blister her skin, but it was volatile and off-kilter. She sliced through it without effort.

Emery’s eyebrows pinched, and I knew he was problem-solving. It had taken her a while to get through mine. His, though equally powerful, were not keeping her at bay. I knew him—he would adjust accordingly.

He shot off another spell, wove a fourth, and shot that off right after it. Back in the Mages’ Guild, I’d had to use casings between my created spells to match his pace.

“Quick Draw McGraw over here,” Reagan said with a grunt, slicing through the latest of his spells. She was twenty feet from him now, jogging forward before stopping to deal with a spell. She was working for it, but she was making progress. “These won’t get the job done. They’re well executed, even though you rushed, and packing power, but they’re…meh.”

“Meh?” Emery ripped off another, the intent to distract her. As soon as her sword hit the magic, it spiraled out into three whorls of color and light before zinging back at her, crackling the air.

“What the…” She batted the air with her hand and hacked with her sword, like swatting flies. A wisp from the spell strafed across her upper arm, searing it. She didn’t flinch. “Even that one. You’re on the right track, but it’s missing something. Countering those spells is easy. Any gobshite with a lick of sense will have no problem tearing you down.”

“It seems I haven’t met a gobshite with a lick of sense yet, then.”

“I mean…hello? Who am I?” Reagan jogged a few more steps before the next spell zipped through the air, similar to the distracting one, though this one was meant to scald. It broke apart as the other had done, but she was ready for it. She sliced it down quickly, turning her back on Emery at one point to do so.

“Tackle her,” I shouted, unable to help it. “Tackle her from behind. She’s—” I cut off as she turned around. “Missed it, Emery.” I shook my head.

His chest shook, and I knew he was chuckling at me.

“I wasn’t kidding,” I muttered.

“That’s what makes it so funny, Turdswallop,” he said, creating a nastier spell between his two palms. More complex, with a weave twice as large, this one should take her back a pace.

“Should’ve listened to her. Here’s Johnny!” She sprinted at him in the lull between spells.

He took two quick steps back, not worried about losing ground in order to buy time. Five feet away from him, Reagan bent her knees, preparing to launch.

He thrust his hands forward and the spell rushed at her, a cloud of magic rolling and tumbling through the air.

Unexpectedly, she went down into a slide, like trying to steal second base. The spell drifted over her and she popped up, jumping into the air a moment later. She kicked out. Her foot smacked against Emery’s forearm, which hadn’t come up to block her in time. He punched his own face.

Reagan punched him in the stomach and the upper leg, then bent and swept her leg behind his, knocking his legs out from under him. He landed hard on his butt and rolled away. In that time, a blast of fire took out the drifting spell, lazily headed back in her direction. It was a homing spell like the one I’d used, but he’d missed a few components in his haste.

By the time he was up, the fire was gone, and she was squaring off again.

He blinked half a dozen times, like he’d been completely blindsided, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ms. Gobshite, to you,” Reagan said, fisting and straightening her hand. “You’ve got muscle tone, though. I’ll give you that. Giving you a charley horse isn’t as fun as it should be.”

This time, Emery did brace himself. “Fuck it. Again.”

A smile took up Reagan’s face. “Don’t mind if I do.”

She ran forward as he was readying a nastier spell, but the sound of plastic clattering against the floor dragged away my focus. My phone was jumping against the back wall where I’d left it earlier.

Skirting along the side of the warehouse so as not to get hit with a rogue foot or spell—you just never knew with Reagan—I grabbed the phone and checked the screen. A number I didn’t recognize.

“Hello?” I asked as Reagan punched Emery’s face, faster than should have been humanly possible. He jerked out of the way at the last moment and then landed a solid punch into her stomach. His other hand came around for a left hook, but she ducked in time and powered a fist into his ribs.

He tackled her, smashing his large shoulder into her middle and taking her down. His bigger, heavier body fell on top of her, but she didn’t lose her breath like any normal person would’ve. She rolled with impossible strength, curled up to get her feet lined up with his middle, and kicked out. He went tumbling across the floor.

They both scrambled to their feet. Emery already had a spell at the ready. With one hand, he started weaving and rapidly firing lesser spells at her, cringeworthy confections intent on keeping her busy. With the other hand, he constructed something he’d obviously gotten from me, but with embellishments stemming from his frustration and desire to win.