Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem #2)(59)

“But what if Penny is out in the world and freezes up again?”

Callie took a sip of her whiskey. “Impossible. Penny is stuck working her butt off within an extremely powerful ward. So far as we know, the Guild hasn’t locked on her location yet. And before you ask how we could know that, just trust me. Reagan’s neighborhood watch is particularly vigilant. If Penny freezes up, it’ll be in the safety of Reagan’s house.”

“And if Penny leaves?”

“If you knew her at all, you’d know she’s a rule follower. She won’t leave.”

His knuckles turned white where they gripped the countertop. He did know her, and yes, she was a rule follower…up to a certain point. But if what she called her temperamental third eye convinced her to get into mischief, she’d run at it full steam. She wouldn’t stay put for long.

If she was freezing up, it meant something was blocking her use of her considerable power. Probably the integration of a different way of working magic, one that didn’t feel natural to her. Until that issue was completely worked out, she’d have times when the spells just wouldn’t come. He knew that from experience.

And if the Guild was there to cash in on just one of those occasions, she’d be a sitting duck, easy prey.

“Call her. Call them both. I need to speak to them. Now.”





25





Reagan’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She fished it out and glanced at the screen. “Callie calling. She needs her daily rant before she goes to bed.” Reagan silenced it and put it back in her pocket. “We’ll call her back when this is done. You might want to silence your phone, too. Or turn it off. If it goes off when we’re sneaking around, that could become a very bad situation.”

I tapped my pockets as I tiptoed through the grass behind her, completely exposed. “I left it in the car.”

“Not married to your phone, huh? I’m jealous.”

“Shouldn’t we have a plan? The others stayed behind to come up with a plan. I feel like a plan, even something totally basic, like what we’re doing right now, would serve us well.”

“Plans get you killed.”

I chewed my lip and avoided a reaching shadow from one of the enormous trees off to the right. “I feel like you’re mistaken on that one.”

“In situations involving wily creatures who excel at improvisation, the last thing you want to do is stay married to a plan. You’ll end up trapped. Trust me on that. This isn’t my first rodeo. What you have to do is know your opponent, and act accordingly.”

“Right, sure.” We angled to the left corner of the massive house in front of us, its front entrance still and silent. “Except I don’t know a poo-tossing monkey’s hindquarters about my opponent.”

Reagan glanced back. “A what? Never mind. Look, check it out.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, pointing back the way we’d come. “First, their plans haven’t worked yet. This is their third attempt, and they are down peacekeepers—the people who are supposed to go after bad guys—because the banshee injured a few. They’re out of their league. The captain knows this. Usually at this point he’d hire me for the job and leave his people at home, but he probably suspects I can’t do it alone.”

“Then why did he send you in here alone?”

“He didn’t. He sent me with you.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be much help.”

“I was kidding. No, you probably won’t be much help, but at least you’ll get a little experience, amiright?” We reached the corner of the house and she slowed down, walking more quietly now. “He sent me alone and kept them back to ‘plan’ to give me a second to scout this on my own. He’ll see if I can handle it alone, and if not, he’ll rush in to save the day. That’s why he gave me the ear piece.” She touched her left ear.

“It would’ve been nice to get one of those,” I muttered.

“Nah. I doubt I’ll have it long. They’re annoying. So. About the opponent.” She dropped to a whisper as she slowly worked her way along the side of the house, keeping as close to the house as the shrubbery would allow. “Do you know what a banshee is?”

“Something that wails. And has to do with death.”

“In essence, it’s the red-headed stepchild of the fairies. Do you know what they are?”

“Like Tinker Bell?”

“Right…” She drew the word out, not agreeing with me so much as bemoaning my lack of magical knowledge.

“I’m new to all this,” I said apologetically.

“Clearly. Right, so usually a banshee isn’t a bad thing. Annoying as all get-out, with their loud, obnoxious wailing at all hours of the night, but usually they don’t do any killing. Their cries are basically a forewarning someone’s about to die. Think of them as Seers. When the person dies, the banshee helps them into Death’s chariot, or so the myths say—I’ve never seen this fabled chariot—and wishes them farewell. So that’s pretty nice.

“Banshees can also use their power to help ease the transition from life to death. This might happen, say, if someone is very sick, won’t ever get better, and is suffering. The banshee will cradle them into the afterlife and onto the chariot. She’s a rather nice lady in times of strife, with a fiercely bad, and mostly undeserved, reputation as a bringer of death. Welcome to being a woman—always blamed for shit going wrong whether it’s our fault or not.”