Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem #2)(92)

Mages stood in a zigzagging line in front of us. One took a step forward, trying to find his way into the haphazard circle around us. Most of them stood ten feet away, working their magic. No one charged. No one had to fight from over their shoulders. No one had a weapon besides magic.

Briefly, an image of Reagan popped into my head. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but she’d brought a gun to a magic fight in that decrepit old stone church.

Still not thinking (Reagan’s training had finally seeped in), I was running at them with bared teeth and a very human and probably stupid growl.

“Penny!” I heard Emery yell.

The mage in front of me froze, his eyes wide, his spell dissipating on his fingers. Then I was on him, punching him in the face then pulling up my foot and slamming it into the side of his knee. Cartilage cracked and he screamed before I moved on to the next mage.

It took a special person to do magic while they were being throttled. Or so Reagan had said. Hopefully she’d been right and I was just as abnormal in this as I was everywhere else in my life.

I flung a grisly spell over my shoulder, one I’d used on her dozens of times. Unlike Reagan, the mage didn’t unravel the weave before the spell struck. It splashed him with skin-eating magic, ripping out lumps in his face and tearing through clothes and skin on his body.

I didn’t have time for a gurgling stomach. Upchucking at how gross it was would have to wait.

The next mage got a boot to the face, not fast enough to block my attack. Emery downed another mage, and my next spell took out two more. But more kept coming. We were kicking ass, but their overall numbers had barely dwindled. And most likely would barely dwindle until we were captured. They’d known where we were, and they’d been prepared.

“We need a Hail Mary,” I yelled, jabbing my fingers in the next mage’s eye. “Or to run.”

Emery countered a spell from a casing before firing off one of his own. Another spell came at us, then another. He countered one, threw up a screen made with his survival magic to stop another, and surged forward. His fist smashed into the nearest mage’s face, doing damage much more quickly than if I’d made the hit. He executed a perfect side kick Reagan would be proud of, dropping another mage like a stone before darting between two more and blasting them at close range with a spell.

My heart dropped when two more mages ran down the path, followed by another from the other direction.

There were just too many.

“We have to run,” I yelled, hitting two with another nasty spell. I didn’t worry about balancing my weaves. About finessing them. There wasn’t time. I zipped them off as soon as they were done. Thankfully, my power was so much stronger than most of these mages that it was enough to hold them off.

Lord help me if they brought in powerful mages.

“Emery, we have to run!” I repeated. He wasn’t answering me, and I suddenly realized why. He’d seen it earlier. There was nowhere to go. They’d completely rigged this area with traps and used themselves as bait. They must’ve had people stationed around the various exit points of the Quarter at the ready, just like the ones stationed inside the Quarter itself, their spells at the ready. That larger spell split into perfect little pieces.

The Guild had figured out how to combat the unpredictable.

“You run, Penny,” I barely heard as Emery threw a smaller man into a larger. They both went down. “You run. Back the way we came. Call for help. Come for me, if you can.”

My heart tore a hole in my chest. It lodged into my throat and choked me.

I’d only just gotten him back. Was I going to lose him again so soon?

“No,” I said, the next spell ripping through someone’s middle. “No!”

“Penny—” Emery started, intent on talking sense—even though we both knew he was bound to fail miserably—but a deep, earthshaking roar drowned him out.

The sound worked through my middle and froze my blood, the fear it caused primal and ancient. My movements slowed and my eyes widened. I couldn’t help but look for the source of the sound. Only Emery kept working, firing off spells as fast as ever, taking advantage of everyone else’s distraction.

Another roar, this time closer, made my teeth chatter. I backed up without being able to help it, envisioning a huge, lethal predator tearing through the bushes with its mouth gaping and teeth bared.

A moment later, that was exactly what happened.

A giant lion, larger than the ones that roamed the modern plains of Africa, surged into the scene with feline grace. It gave a loud grunt, blowing out of its nostrils, before pausing to stare at the mostly immobile group before it. Its huge, shaggy head swept from one side to the other, taking everything in.

The little dog from before scurried out from behind the great lion and headed off to the side, pausing to take everything in.

A few of the mages stepped away, unsure. Still more stood and stared with open mouths, like I was doing, taken aback by the sight of a big jungle cat within the city limits.

My brain shuddered to a start.

Big cat.

Shifter.

“Help!” I called into the uneasy silence, not at all embarrassed about freaking out.

Like a starter gun had been fired, the scene burst with activity again. Mages cracked casings and shot them at Emery, me, or the lion.

Wolves burst out of the foliage around us, synchronized and deadly as they began their attack. Vicious growls cut through the shouts and screaming. Wolf bodies slammed into mages. Teeth found jugulars.