Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem #2)(5)

But before she could recite the tediously familiar words, a man’s voice sounded from behind us.

“Callie Banks, long time, no see.”

Callie stiffened and a delighted grin crept up her face. She didn’t glance back, and her tightening fingers on my arm said I shouldn’t either.

An imposing presence moved up along my side, a hair too close for comfort.

“John. How lovely of you to make it.” Callie turned slowly, a move that spoke of having the upper hand. In what, I didn’t know.

John, standing with a slightly puffed-out chest, showered us with a charming smile. His teeth glittered, so white that I nearly squinted.

“Hello, ladies,” he said. “Great to see you again.” He smiled down at Aileen, who giggled dramatically.

Confused by Aileen’s girly reaction, I couldn’t help but frown as I studied him. With a broad nose to match his wide face, a chin that was trying to hide from the world, and a hairline that was running from the chin, he wasn’t anything special. But even Callie had sparkles in her eyes, relishing his presence. Others in the room, girls and guys alike, were glancing his way fervently, like he was some sort of celebrity.

What was I missing? Did mages truly value power this much?

“And you must be Penelope Bristol,” John said, his smile just a little sly.

“Yes. Hello.” I stuck out my hand, and he took it gently, his palm smooth and soft, the opposite of Emery’s.

I gritted my teeth and glanced away, pushing the thought from my head. I couldn’t very well get over him if I kept mentally bringing him up. I spied Veronica in the corner talking to some older man with long white hair encircling a shiny bald spot on the top of his head. She glanced over and saw me before raising her eyebrows, asking if I needed saving.

Hold that thought, Veronica.

“You’re a natural, did I hear that right?” John asked, bending a little to recapture my gaze.

“That’s what they tell me.” I shrugged. “I’m new to all this.”

“So you don’t really know if you have enough power to be a natural?”

“She doesn’t, but I do,” Callie said, stepping closer. “She kept pace with the Rogue Natural. He was the one who first declared her a natural. He would know.”

“Or maybe he was just telling a beautiful woman what she wanted to hear.” John’s smile was kind, but his tone made me want to punch him.

“I’m not interested in defining my power level,” I said, ready to scooch away. “I just want to learn how my magic works, then get better at it.”

“A mage who doesn’t want to reap the rewards of being the best in the business?” John rolled back onto his heels and looked around the room incredulously. Everyone within earshot chuckled, sharing the joke. Callie’s face reddened, and I couldn’t tell if it was out of embarrassment for me, or anger at his joke.

As usual tonight, I’d missed the punch line.

“I assume you don’t mean rewards as in being able to do more advanced spells,” I said, “since my outlook would have no bearing on that. So what type of rewards would I get just by being a natural?”

He looked around the room again (his audience) like I was daft. “You’d be the best in the room, for one.” He lifted his eyebrows at Aileen, who giggled like a schoolgirl while nodding knowingly. “You’re new to all this, but eventually you’ll come to realize the importance of respect. Position. Authority.”

“I guess that’s why I haven’t seen you before,” I said without thinking, connecting the dots. “You can’t be the best in the room when Callie and Dizzy are present.”

Shocked silence fell over the room. John’s eyes narrowed and his face flushed, anger brewing below the surface. I’d stripped away his varnish.

This was the wrong way to make allies. I knew I’d be terrible at this.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but he was already talking.

“That problem will be solved when I find someone worthy to be my dual-mage partner,” he said in a low tone, the challenge to Callie clear.

She bristled and squared off with him. Prickles of anticipation rolled across my skin. The room held its breath.

I looked for magic to rise around us, weaving into a spell. I waited for the intent of the spell to give its purpose away.

That failing, I looked for a capsule dug out of a pocket. Something.

The two mages stared at each other. Soft jazz played in the background.

And then it occurred to me.

They couldn’t do a danged thing. Neither had a satchel (no one did—there must’ve been a rule against it at a gathering), and I was sure neither could fight physically. For one, Callie was too old. But also, John’s hands were too thin and his body too gangly. He probably hadn’t so much as slapped a younger sibling. They weren’t naturals, so they couldn’t weave spells from the elements around them like Emery and I could. They were at a standstill, which meant the two powerful mages had to be content with a hard-faced stare-down.

Laughter bubbled up at the absurdity of it all. Of the swagger and wealth on display tonight. Of the ladies’ fawning over the frankly unimpressive John simply because he was powerful…under the right circumstances.

We could hardly hope the circumstances would be “right” when the Mages’ Guild rolled through with their army of trained and attack-ready mages. We’d all be sitting ducks, completely vulnerable.