Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem #2)(23)

The waitress and a couple of helpers wheeled in a tray before visiting each place setting and moving the plates around. My small plate received a piece of bread and my bowl was filled with soup. She paused next to Darius and the helpers waited by their tray.

“Would it make you more comfortable if we ate?” Darius asked me as if it were a normal question. Why else would someone invite guests over for a midnight dinner if not to actually eat dinner?

“I don’t mind,” I said, locating the large soup spoon and picking it up gingerly.

“She feels awkward. We would do best to eat,” Marie said.

“I agree.” Darius gave a little wave, and the helpers sprang into action, arranging the rest of the plates like they had mine.

“Do vampires not generally eat?” I asked. There were plenty of other things to do besides sharing a meal in close quarters. Like sitting idly with a cup of tea. In public.

“Not generally, no.” Darius took up his soup spoon. “It makes us hungry for our true sustenance, which is not always on hand.”

I wrinkled my nose, knowing he meant blood. His comment about hunger made the memory of the newbie flash through my mind. Almost immediately, a wave of goosebumps covered my body and magic rose around me, ready for action.

Marie lifted the spoon to her lips, and without warning, the magic started to churn, wild and feral.





10





“Don’t eat,” I said, my voice rough and my control wobbly. Their magic was swirling around me. If their bloodlust rose, I didn’t trust myself not to reach for my magic cloud on impulse.

All three vampires paused and, almost as one, slowly lowered their spoons. The helpers drifted back in and whisked the bowls away.

I sat back, my appetite gone and the magic still churning around me. I locked my fingers together so I wouldn’t do anything crazy.

A flick of Darius’s eyes and my bowl was cleared too, followed by my place setting. The man could read people better than anyone else I’d ever met. Secrets would not be easy to keep around this crew.

“You have no control, is that it?” Darius asked, studying me.

“Absolutely none, no. Not when I’m in the thick of things. I don’t think about what I’m doing at all, I just do.”

“Yet in the training session, you could not do at all.”

“She countered the spells with ease,” Moss said. “Her defense wasn’t lacking—it was her offense.”

Darius sat back. “Yes, of course.” He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped a finger against his chin. “Interesting.”

“For the most part, she didn’t attack first in the Guild compound either,” Marie said. “She retaliated.”

“Watch her hands,” Moss murmured. They were clasped tightly on the table, the better for me to avoid accidentally killing someone.

Darius dropped his own hands to his lap. “I am sorely tempted to rush you and see what would happen.”

A thrill of fear ran through me; I knew how fast he could move and how long his claws could get. My hands shook.

“But I must be honest: I am somewhat worried about what you would do.” He continued to study me, and strangely, the others weren’t looking at me at all. “You have a fantastic imagination when it comes to spell work.”

“I don’t know about fantastic, but it’s certainly overactive.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat and resisted the urge to wipe away the moisture beading on my forehead. I couldn’t give my hands the opportunity to work magic without my permission.

“Reagan says that we should focus on that. On your creativity. Based on what I have seen, I would agree, but you have to learn some sort of control. As you are, you are dangerous.”

My temperamental third eye was screaming at me to get up, nice and slow, and get my butt out of that house as fast as possible. The pressure in the room seemed to be increasing. Rough and putrid magic brushed against me. The feeling of insatiable hunger scraped along my spine. Twisted in my gut.

“That’s been the case since I first showed up at that church and met Reagan and the Bankses,” I said, and licked my lips nervously. “Say, by the way, how often do you guys feed?”

“The older a vampire gets, the less he must feed,” Darius said, as calm as a summer’s breeze. He was probably lucky he couldn’t see the turbulent magic rolling and shifting above him. “I am perfectly satisfied, I can assure you. Everyone in this room is. I ensured that would be the case before arranging this meeting with you.”

Everyone in this room was perfectly satisfied.

Why had he needed to clarify the location?

“I would like to get you doing as many spells as possible in Reagan’s warehouse,” Darius said, and a soft scrape sounded from outside the room. “Over and over. I want them in your muscle memory. That will take the thinking out of the equation. I also want you exposed to dangerous or uncomfortable situations as much as possible. You need to spend some time living in fear to get used to what it does to you. Only when you understand your reactions can you begin to control them. Lastly, you need a teacher that understands you. That knows how to work with you.”

A strange sort of panting invaded the tranquility of the dining room. It sounded like a dog was sitting in the hot summer sun just outside the door.