Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem #2)(105)

It felt like a huge magical net rose around the warehouse. Some of us would be preserved. Some killed.

I would live.

Reagan would surely die.

I wasn’t sure about Emery.

“Oh bull cocks. Fuckity shit stains.”

“Whoa.” Reagan laughed.

“Penny Bristol, I am telling your mother.” Emery laughed and stuffed ingredients into his pockets. “I should’ve gotten a new utility belt.”

“Here.” Reagan unslung her fanny pack from around her waist. “Use this. I won’t need it now that I’m not pretending.”

He paused, looking unsure.

Reagan shook it. “Hurry.”

He didn’t step forward.

“What’s the matter?” she asked impatiently.

“I made it through my youth without ever succumbing to that trend, only to do so in my twenties?” He shook his head.

“If you call it a fanny pack one more time, I’m going to break your face. It is a pouch! Now put it on, Mr. Fashion.” She zipped it up and chucked it at him.

Reagan paused in front of her magical spectacle. If I didn’t know better, and maybe I didn’t, she was unsure. That was not good.

As if hearing my thoughts, she said, “I really hope this works.”

“Oh good, yeah. Yes, let’s hope it works. Yup.” I jogged in another circle like a hyperactive dog. “But let’s not say what it is, exactly.”

“It is my father’s legacy, and it is about time I learn to use it.” She blew out a deep breath, turning to watch Emery adjust the fanny pack to fit around his much larger waist. He shook his head as he clipped it on.

“We are in a very bad situation, about to get worse, but it would be remiss if I didn’t mention that someone should get a picture of him wearing that.” I pointed at him as I attempted a sort of tap dance across the floor.

“What in the holy hell are you doing, Penny?” Reagan demanded. But she did raise her phone and snap off a picture of Emery. Before filming me.

It would’ve looked better if I’d taken even one tap dance lesson in my life.

Emery pulled out handfuls of empty casings. “Are you a hoarder? What is all this?”

“It’s for show. Let’s go, Emery. Your lady love is about to lose it.”

“Oh, I’ve lost it. It’s gone. Long gone. And you know what?” I clapped and danced back toward them. “There isn’t one closet in this whole godforsaken warehouse. Not one. Not even a freaking nook or cranny. There is nowhere to hide. I’ve gotten myself into a pickle this time. Did you know they are basically chanting kill, kill, kill out there? Yeah. Magically chanting it. Do you who they want to kill?” I pointed at Reagan. I pointed at Emery. “Maybe. I don’t know. But definitely—” I pointed at her again.

“It makes it more fun when they mean business.” Reagan watched as Emery finished shoving ingredients and casings into the fanny pack. “We ready?”

I jumped in place, the throbbing of magic outside the warehouse at a fever pitch. Spells would come soon. Huge, powerful spells intent to tear the warehouse from its very foundation. They’d been preparing, all right. All these months, they’d been preparing. Collecting magic, building spells, assembling a freaking army.

All to combat three people.

We had no chance in hell.





44





“Parlay,” I yelled as a mighty spell bore down on the warehouse. “Parlay!”

“We’re not pirates,” Reagan said, pulling her hands up from her sides. “And they can’t hear us in here.”

“A spell is coming right at us!” I ran at Emery, grabbed his arm, and tore his survival magic from within his body. I had no idea how, but I didn’t care. I smooshed it with mine, and yanked at the three throbbing power stones, releasing as I did so.

A concussion of magic rocked out from my body, stopping in the middle of the warehouse before exploding outward without sound, a gray mass heading for the walls.

At the same time, Reagan grunted and shoved her hands outward.

The four walls of the warehouse bowed in the middle before ripping outward. The roof flew off as though from an explosion, ripping from the ends of the walls. Metal screamed. Glass shattered. Emery threw his body over mine.

The magic I’d thrown flew beyond the mess of broken walls and roof, expanding outward. The incoming spell hit it with a flurry of sparks, stopping its progress. Shimmery green warred with gray. Magic zipped away in all directions, hitting the ground and pooling acid.

Emery pulled off me and worked a spell. Without thinking, I added my weave to it, fortifying his efforts before weaving my own spell to blast out a wave of intense heat all around the warehouse, hopefully taking out their first line of attack.

Emery released his spell, aiming beneath the two warring spells, counteracting the potentially dangerous-to-us fallout. Without pausing, he bent to me, now working within my spell as I’d worked within his. If we each did separate spells, we’d get them out faster, but that would be for the heat of the battle. Now we needed a few larger waves of power to keep them from rushing in and immediately overcoming us.

I shoved the spell into existence and looked up.

And froze.

Twisted metal lay to each side of where we stood. Beyond, stretched around the warehouse in a large circle, the mages slowly walked forward.