I snort incredulously. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, maybe my ancestors just thought you were hot,” I declare cheekily.
A slow smile stretches across Rogan’s gorgeous face, and he laughs quietly. I start opening the boxes of clothes we’ve set aside and pulling out things I need.
Hello, leggings.
“Yes!” I scream out like I just won the lottery.
I pull the bag out containing underwear and bras, grabbing a pair from the top to show Rogan, like I’m fully expecting him to be just as excited.
“I prefer you without them,” he offers, a flirty twinkle in his eyes as he shrugs shamelessly.
Heat courses through me, but I tsk at him and set the bag aside. I definitely need to keep an eye on it. Nooops, I lost your underwearis going down on my watch. No sirree. I pack up a box that has a couple months’ worth of clothes in it, hoping that will be enough. The plan is to regroup with Elon back at Rogan’s and suss out a survival and attack strategy there. Yep, this will have to do.
I hand the box to Rogan to put in the car, shooting him anI’ll be watching youlook so he knows my underwear better not turn up missing, and he just waggles his eyebrows at me, which doesn’t leave me feeling reassured at all. I clean up my mess and stand to take in the shop. The scent of incense and my grandmother still permeates the walls, and I hope that will always be the case. I had such big dreams for this place, but now as I stand around looking at everything, it all feels so uncertain.
Will I really ever be able to settle down here? I mean, even if we can survive the evil High Council, how can I stay here when there’s the chance that I might never die? I don’t even know if we grow old. Am I stuck in this body, with this face, forever?
I look down at myself and shrug; it is a good body and face to have. Why did I never think to ask about this before? Oh yeah, that’s right, I didn’t know I’d ever come back from the dead. It’s been ten years since Rogan and Elon came back for the first time, they both still look pretty good. On the other hand, wedoscar, so maybe we do age?
I bring a hand up to my chest and press against the mark there. I look outside, ready to ask Rogan about all of this when he walks back in, but he’s not there. I squint to make sure I’m not just missing him bending over to load the box into the back of my Pathfinder, but I don’t spot his big muscular body through the glass. I hurry to the door to see if maybe he’s taking a call or something and has wandered away from the windows, but when I spot a pair of thick, long legs on the ground behind my parked car, fear and panic slam into me like a tidal wave.
How did they find us so fast?
8
Power inundates me with only a speck of a thought. It crackles all around me like dangerous static as I shove it out into my surroundings, searching for attackers. I’m prepared to find cloaked magic users advancing on the shop SWAT-style, or moving to trap us in a grid, but that’s not the case. Rogan’s magical signature is a steady hum, and I only sense two other mancers nearby. One of which has wards protecting them against the reach of my magic, and the other doesn’t.
I prepare my magic to Bone Witch bitch-slap whoever just picked a fight without any protection. I’ll deal with the easy target first and then teach the other one a lesson next. I’m just about to let my magic loose on the two mancers on my radar when something confusing happens. The witch I can feel who has no wards or spells protecting them suddenly attacks the other magical presence I sense.
What the hell?
Why would they take out each other?
Without a thought, I call on even more magic, readying myself for whatever is going on, and I shove out the front door. I rush to the right where I can feel the other two magical signatures, and when I round a corner into the narrow alleyway between my shop and the one next to it, I find Marx breathing heavily and standing over the crumpled body of...Prek.
Confusion and relief battle each other in my chest, and I can’t seem to find my voice as my eyes dart back and forth between the two of them. Near Prek’s hand is a black and brown gun that looks odd. I don’t know what’s off about it, and apparently my body doesn’t care, because just the sight of any kind of gun has me choking on alarm and foreboding.
I’m back in the church, the sound of a gun discharging suddenly reverberating all around me. Pain tears through my chest and then heat as the bullet rips through me, my skin and bones no protection at all. My lungs fill with blood, and I gasp for air, only this time my magic doesn’t blink out, instead it flares.
The sensation of hot power pulsing out of me pulls me from the flashback. It’s as though a blue hypergiant star has just opened up in my chest, causing flames of magic to consume every inch of me. My shocked gaze lands on Marx’s wide eyes, and I can see the fright and surprise in them as he takes a hesitant step closer. He lifts his arms, palms out, and then lowers them slightly, silently communicating that he wants me to calm down.
“Lennox,” he calls to me, his voice laced with so much soothing and reassuring power that I want to wrap it around me in hopes that it will help to douse this all-consuming inferno. “Lennox, you’re okay, just breathe.”
I nod jerkily and focus on pulling air into my lungs. Slowly my chest rises with the smooth intake of a deep breath. It chases away the feeling that I’m drowning in my own blood again.
I survived, I tell myself, blowing the breath out and pulling in another one.
My lungs are clear, my chest is healed, I’m okay.
My raging power starts to calm, and I go from a burning white beacon of magic to a softly glowing ember.
“That’s it,” Marx tells me, lacing his words with more of his own magic, and I’m immediately grateful he’s a Vox Witch and therefore knew exactly how to talk my magic down.
The glow kissing my skin disappears altogether as I continue to breathe through my panic and assure myself that everything is okay. Yeah, Rogan is still lying on the ground, but I’m pretty sure we have Prek to thank for that, and he’s currently an unconscious heap too. Marx is here, no one else is closing in on us. It’s all okay. The burning hot star in my chest blinks out, and my body relaxes as I finally get my power under control.
I blow out a deep sigh of relief and offer a warm smile to Marx. “What are you doing here?” I ask, my tone friendly but surprised to see him. But Marx’s stare is stunned and focused on something behind me. I whirl to see what it is.
Well, shit.
