Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem #2)(13)

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the focus of a bunch of people who intended to do him harm.

Starting with Darius, the vampires shifted into their monster forms. Their skin color turned pasty or swampy, depending on age, and their bearing bent and bowed. Claws extended from their fingertips, black filled their eyes, and fangs filled their mouths. Dark, stringy hair took the place of cut and styled locks.

The mages shuffled closer together, even John. He might be powerful among mages, but against an elder vampire, he was child’s play. Even against a middle-tiered vampire like Marie, he would be hard-pressed to make it out alive.

And here I stood, a know-nothing mage with witch tendencies, standing on my own, facing off against two columns of power and a pair of dual-mages in sports gear. While being watched by an immensely powerful supernatural of unknown origins.

“It is definitely not too dramatic to mention that I hate my life.”

Without warning, the new vampire rushed forward.

“Oh crap.” I pulled down elements as spells ran through my head, confused and blurry. A spell sped toward me from the dual-mages, powerful but simple. I barely countered it before another came from the other side.

“Crap. Oh crap. Crap.” I blinked as the new vampire ran, his speed faster than thought. My thoughts, at least.

I barely got off my bug zapper spell—the first one I’d created on the fly—making him change course, before a spell came at me from the side, weak and reddish.

I ran forward so it wouldn’t hit me, not bothering to waste precious time countering it. Another spell zoomed toward me before ballooning. Hives or a rash or flaking skin or something. Callie had obviously done that one. She knew how I hated to itch. She was as blunt and direct in her magic as she was in everyday life.

Unfortunately, she was also powerful, and it took me a moment to tear down her spell. But I didn’t have a moment. The newbie was back, dashing in with his swampy green and black mouth spread open much larger than should’ve been natural, fangs glinting in the overhead light.

“Stop thinking, Penny,” Reagan yelled. “Stop flicking through your mental spell Rolodex and react.”

“Soon the spells will be second nature,” Callie said, palming her helmet out of her face. “Until then, she has to remember her teachings.”

They were telling me opposite things. What was I supposed to do?

The vampire jerked to a stop again, this time fifteen feet from me. His magic rolled over me, putrid and vile. Sharp, stinging, desperately hungry. Whatever was going on with him, he was losing the fight.

Sweat dripped into my eye. Callie’s spell brushed my arm. I jerked away as I unraveled it.

A swampy white monster sped toward me, movements so fast I could barely see it.

I screamed, because that was what one did in this situation, and feinted to the side as though we were playing capture the flag.

“You don’t need a Rolodex, Penny,” Reagan yelled. “Don’t listen to Callie.”

“Get it away!” I ran right, screeching when the monster easily turned and reached out for me. “No—”

His clawed hand grabbed my upper arm. He threw me aside as if I weighed nothing.

A spell zipped by, thankfully missing me. Another sailed overhead. These mages clearly needed more practice with moving targets.

I hit the ground and my head thunked against the hardwood floor. My limbs slapped the surface and I skidded to a stop.

“Survive!” Reagan shouted.

White flared around me, creating a wall that accepted two different spells intent on teaching me some sort of lesson. My survival magic enveloped the spells and spun, growing as I fed it energy.

“Don’t think, just do,” Reagan yelled. “React like you did in the Mages’ Guild. Create. Feel.”

I tried to send the spells back to the casters, but my survival magic sputtered out. From the mass of organized elements that unconsciously gathered when in a pressurized situation, I pulled ingredients for an attack spell. The weave twisted through my fingers before forming a shaky sort of goo that quickly dissolved into nothing.

“I can’t—” Tears of frustration blinded me. The monster I recognized as Marie rushed in then. I knew she’d try to scare a spell from me, but when her claws slashed across my arm, opening up four bloody gashes, another half-formed spell fizzled out.

My power stones pulsed around the room, offering aid, but I couldn’t draw on them. I couldn’t get my head above water.





6





Moist air slid against Emery’s skin as he stood behind a great boulder, feeling the sharp edges catch his badly worn clothes. The cold day bit deeply into his bones, sapping his energy as a chill shook his limbs. Dark clouds rolled overhead, the rain never far away in the Emerald Isle.

A human shape hugged the end of a rock wall some hundred yards away. A few more crouched ahead of him, hidden poorly within the crumbling ruins atop the green bluff overlooking the tumultuous ocean. Still more waited farther down the meadow, having ducked behind a different wall. His pursuers had plenty of choice in this part of the country, where low rock walls lined the countryside.

He turned and looked back the way he’d come.

A narrow road led down to this sorrowful strip of lonely land. A worn-in bicycle leaned on its kickstand, waiting for him.

He’d come to Ireland for the beauty. For the sweeping views and fields of green. For the pints, the laughter, and the merriment. He’d come to forget the grave he couldn’t bring himself to visit, and the woman he’d left behind.