“By the way, Devon,” she said as Devon gently nudged Charity to start walking, “I heard you had a little soiree in your backyard. I’m pissed you didn’t invite me. I mean, I wouldn’t have been able to participate, what with vampire politics and all, but man, would I have liked to see Vlad’s face when Charity barbecued him. I am so sorry I missed that.”
“The ward was poorly done if a bunch of vampires could break through.” Penny looked out toward the trees. “We can keep it roughly the same size, Roger, but I wouldn’t be opposed to adding some booby traps. Charity’s magic is fascinating. Bold and electric. It has this”—Penny closed her eyes and tilted her face upward—“lightness to it. Pureness.” She smiled and touched her middle. “It feels good. Like the pulse of life. I can see why shifters are drawn to it.”
Charity swung the sword, just to feel its weight. “What magic do you have?”
“She’s a natural dual-mage with spunk.” Reagan winked at Charity. “She stole the spunk from a nasty little goblin.”
“I didn’t steal it,” Penny replied with the annoyance of a woman who was tired of this topic. “I inherited it.”
“You ripped it out of its grubby little hands when you killed it,” Reagan shot back with an evil grin.
Penny frowned at her then shifted her focus to the driveway. “As I was saying, Charity’s magic has less finesse, but that’ll actually make it easier for the ward. I can weave elements of her ability into the traps. Now…” She put out a finger, and the rest of the group stopped next to her. “It might blow off someone’s leg. That’s the downside. But only vampires or demons will set off the trigger, so…”
“You can do that?” Charity asked, swinging her sword again.
“It’s a great big world, lady,” Reagan said. “You haven’t even scratched the surface.”Chapter Forty-FiveDevon kept a firm hand on Charity, remembering his induction to magic and knowing Charity would need a little support. The team Roger had amassed here included what was probably the most powerful magical talent in the Brink. He didn’t even know what Reagan’s magic was, just that it had turned the tide in that battle with the mages, and he’d never seen or smelled anything like it. She and her crew collectively possessed a level of experience that was probably boggling Charity’s mind.
“Shall we step inside to speak with Karen?” Roger asked, gesturing toward the door.
Devon nudged Charity gently, watching her move that crimson sword in tiny circles. The tip sparked, and occasionally a zagging line of electric magic crisscrossed the blade.
“Who is Karen?” Charity whispered, glancing at Reagan, who nodded and stepped away. She wouldn’t be following them into the house. Thank God for small miracles. The woman was unpredictable, and anything might set Charity off right now.
Karen, Penny’s mom, an older woman with intelligent blue eyes and an impatient air, waited for them in the dining room. Alder stood at her side, his posture stiff and arms at his back. A crystal ball sat in front of her on a black velvet mat. Next to that was an old and badly worn stack of tarot cards. At the end of the setup, a martini.
“So…you’re the—”
“Seer, yes,” Karen interrupted. “Put your sword…” She squinted at Charity. “Never mind. Sit down.”
Charity’s brow furrowed, and she looked at Devon for the go-ahead.
“The alpha is looking for you,” Alder told Devon, Alder’s unwavering stare beating into him, raising Devon’s hackles. Charity’s magic pulsed into the room, wild and raw and fierce, shocking through Devon’s middle. His magic rose to answer the call.
Devon struggled his gaze downward. He had no intention of challenging a superior tonight. “Yes, sir.”
“But what if I…?” Charity said, her gaze imploring.
“I’ll be right outside,” Devon told her, knowing she was worried her magic would surge and she’d have no one around to temper it.
As he was walking out, he heard the snap of the tarot deck and “Well, didn’t you find yourself a handsome young man. Congratulations. Just remember, they don’t come trained. You have to do that yourself.”
Roger waited outside with Reagan, the two of them watching the natural dual-mages standing at the edge of the grass, talking and gesturing as they prepared the new ward. Devon had seen what they were capable of. It was awe-inspiring. That Roger was paying for them to erect a ward around his house showed how serious he was about keeping Charity safe.
“How is she?” Roger asked when Devon joined their powwow.
Devon shook his head. “Her surges of magic are getting stronger. They feel like needles along my skin at this point. Sometimes I have to fight her into submission, and that turns bloody.”
“The sword should help a little,” Reagan said. “Karen was adamant that she have it sooner rather than later. But it’s just a patch. I asked Darius about the warrior fae. He says they typically shepherd their own kind into full magic. At least, the stronger ones do. A warrior fae on her own won’t be able to handle the surges when they get too strong. Charity will need guidance. She’ll need to be among her own kind.”