Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem #2)(56)

A man about her age showed up at her side, wearing a stained shirt and a pleasant expression. Keen eyes looked out from over half-moon reading glasses, and something told Emery this man wasn’t nearly as jovial as he looked at first glance.

“Do you think I was born yesterday?” the woman asked, looking suspicious. “That’s not even possible, and it’s an even worse attempt than the one you made yesterday. We aren’t going to invite you through this ward, so you can just stop trying. You better get off my property, or you’ll meet the same fate as that poorly dressed vacuum salesman.”

“What’s not possible?” the man asked.

“This idiot claims he’s the Rogue Natural,” the woman said. “The Mages’ Guild clearly thinks we are as empty-headed as they are.”

“Oh.” The man shoved in a little closer, his eyes now scrutinizing, and his gaze touched the same empty patch on Emery’s hip. “He is handsome enough.”

“What does that prove? A bunch of guys are handsome enough,” the woman said.

“He’s the right age.”

“So they went to a modeling agency.”

“I hadn’t heard he was so large.” The man made a movement like he was flexing.

“I can prove it, if you wish,” Emery said quietly, feeling the pressure of the eyes on him.

The woman crossed her arms over her chest. “If you are who you say you are, you’d know what you’ve been sending Penny.”

“Power stones that pulled at me more than typical power stones, or ones that were particularly beautiful. She can feel their personalities, and I wondered what she’d feel in the ones I sent her.”

The man made a duck bill with his mouth. “Well, that seems right enough—”

“Shh.” She elbowed him. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Yes, it does,” the man said in a flash of anger. “The spells protecting those packages weren’t tampered with.”

“Everyone knows the Guild is keeping eyes on the Rogue Natural”—she leaned forward, her gaze boring into Emery’s—“who is on the other side of the world right now.”

“Well, yes, I suppose that information could’ve been obtained another way,” the man conceded.

Emery spread his hands. “How can I prove it?”

“Do some magic,” the woman said.

He looked harder at the spell covering her door, blocking access to her house. He pulled magic from the elements around him—the dew on the grass, the rubber from his boot, the chemicals from his hair care products—and quickly constructed a countering weave.

“You might want to stand back,” he said. “It will spark.”

Both of them took a step back as he laid his spell over theirs. Multicolored fizzing filled the doorway. Their eyes widened, and suddenly the woman was hurrying away and the man filled the door, as though he planned to fight Emery off should he tear down the spell.

“You have no need to worry,” Emery said, putting his hands back in his pockets when the spell was done. “I’ll put up a new spell, one that very few mages will be able to take down.”

The spell in the doorway unraveled, its energy dissipating back into the natural world, from whence it came. Or so Penny would say.

“How is she?” Emery asked quietly, unable to help it. “Is she happy?”

The woman showed up with a satchel draped over her shoulder and held another out for the man. “Here,” she said, gathering a handful of basil and sage.

“Wait.” The man took the satchel.

“You’ve studied that spell, have you?” the woman asked, taking a capsule out of her bag. “Well, that crossed the line. We don’t—”

“Would you wait?” the man said, his anger flaring again. It seemed to be his way of counteracting the woman’s badgering. It was clearly the way they balanced as a dual-mage pair.

“He’s tearing down our spell! We can’t wait,” she said.

“It’s gone,” Emery said. “I do not treat the act of tearing down a ward as an invitation to come inside. The Guild and I differ in that, somewhat.”

“He asked if Penny was happy,” the man said, lowering the satchel.

“So?” the woman said.

“I know how a man acts if he actually cares about a woman. This man didn’t ask about her magic, or her fighting prowess, or where exactly she is—he asked if she was happy. Which means he actually cares about her.”

She lowered her hands, the wheels turning.

“That wouldn’t be a question the Guild would think to ask,” the man went on. “If they were pretending to care, they’d ask if she was safe or something.”

“I can tell you about our breaking into the Guild, or my experiences with her mother, or our first meeting,” Emery said. “Or you can just take a picture with your phone and have Penny verify. Whatever you choose, please hurry. I do not like standing out here, flaunting myself to the Guild. They might get antsy and come for me. They’re all around us.”

The woman stepped forward while tucking her herbs back into her satchel. “So you’re Emery.” She nodded slowly. “Even more handsome than I’d heard. Penny has good taste. Hi.” She put out her hand to shake. “I’m Callie Banks.” He shook it before she stepped back and nudged the man next to her. “This is Desmond.”