Jessie’s people stopped moving, and Noah’s people—those still standing—kept running, their flight reflex taking over.
Austin turned toward the crowd, toward Sebastian, and reared up again, releasing a roar full of rage and dominance and challenge. Sebastian could feel it in every fiber of his being. He reached for the back of his chair with a shaking hand and sat down slowly. Nessa took one step away, then another.
Austin lowered back down to all fours before changing back into his human form. He’d just issued a promise, and while Sebastian didn’t know exactly how it translated, the effect had rattled his bones and made him rethink this whole endeavor.
“Okay, yeah,” Nessa said, out of breath. “Sure, yeah, okay. You win. You were right. That is…”
“Terrifying, yes.”
“It’s not even a normal kind of terrifying. It’s like it…” She touched her chest. “It’s not rational, that fear.”
“They’re predators. It’s primal.”
“Yeah. Wow. Why am I more attracted to Broken Sue because of it?”
“I do not know. You’re crazy.”
“No argument there.”
Jessie walked her people off the berm, and though Sebastian’s attendant should’ve accompanied them, no one stepped forward to do it. Sebastian didn’t blame them. He wouldn’t want to, either.
“That is why I want the shifters on my side,” Sebastian said.
“And the basajaun. Don’t forget that crazy basajaun. Now I get why that guy froze in the hallway.”
“And the basajaun. Jessie and her team of shifters are worth more than any other crew at this meeting. If the others can’t see that yet, wait until I let her fly and remove the restriction against killing.”
“Those shifters wouldn’t have been so effective without Jessie’s magical defense,” Nessa said thoughtfully. “They still would’ve won, definitely, but they would’ve felt the hits. It wouldn’t have been such a landslide. And if the mages had outnumbered them…well, I could see the battle going a very different way.”
“Yes, and that is why shifters are under the thumb of mages right now. But Jessie—and I—teaming with them changes the score card. It’ll make all the difference.”
“I agree.” She was quiet for a moment. “I think you should rethink the way you plan to meet her, Sebastian,” Nessa said as she sat down again, her voice tight with nerves. She clearly hadn’t taken the threat seriously before, seeing what everyone else did—a past Jane, a bunch of animals, plus a few dudes with capes. The reality was beyond what any sheltered mage—and there were a lot of those—could imagine.
“I can’t,” he replied. “It’s been foretold. I will keep my end of the bargain, come what may.”
Twenty
“When is the next battle?” I dried my hair with a towel, wearing workout sweats and a hoodie. Most of my crew lounged in the common space, lazy this morning after dominating in the arena yesterday. Everyone was present except for Austin, who was in the shower, and Edgar, who was drinking some blood in his room so as not to gross everyone out. We’d just barely managed to follow the no-kill rule. I’d had to come back out and heal Noah, plus the guy the basajaun had thrown into a wall.
I’d also seen Elliot Graves up in the stands, and I could tell he was in the flesh. He was there, just out of reach. With everything going on, there was no way I could’ve gotten to him, not without him getting a good shot off at me first.
“This afternoon.” Niamh sat on the couch with her feet up. “We goin’?”
“Yeah, I think we should, don’t you? It’s the two more powerful mages, right?” I slung the towel over my shoulder.
“I’ll have that, miss.” Mr. Tom took it from me. “Are you hungry? Do you want anything?”
“Order from the kitchen,” Cyra called from her position near the fridge. “I like their cooks.”
“I can make whatever they can make,” Mr. Tom replied, puffing up.
“Yes, it just won’t taste as good,” she said.
“Ah, sure,” Niamh answered me, beer in hand. “It’ll just be spells, but we can go if you wan’ta.”
“Maybe I can get some ideas for spells or something.” I plopped down into a chair. “Or we can at least see how they fight.”
“With spells,” Niamh replied. “That’s how they fight. They wave their hands around and largely stand in one place. It’s right boring.” She was annoyed she hadn’t been able to do more in our fight—the other side had given in too fast.
“It’s not boring when you don’t have a mage at your back,” Broken Sue growled. “Not everyone can withstand one of their spells. And even if they can, there’s always a limit. Whether it’s two or three, or more. At some point, it’s too much.”
“I knew a mage that was super scared of shifters,” I said. “And everyone yesterday just froze. Were the mages you…dealt with not afraid?”
Broken Sue crossed his arms over his wide chest. “One on one, yes. Small groups, sure. But when they stood behind the mercenaries, no, they weren’t scared. They had numbers and power. We had a few guarding many. They bulldozed us.”
The room went silent for a beat, everyone clearly processing the pain behind Broken Sue’s words, the raging memories that must be ripping him apart.
“You had to spare fighters to guard the vulnerable,” Nathanial said, leaning against the wall with an apple in hand. “That was not a fair fight.”
“Fair or not—”
A knock sounded at the door. I’d put up Elliot’s ward, after searching it for hidden tricks and finding none, and it vibrated with an unnecessary warning. Mr. Tom came out of the laundry area and headed that way.
“Fair or not,” Broken Sue began again, “they did more than just stand there slinging spells.”
“Are ye sure, now?” Niamh narrowed her eyes. “They brought in mercenaries. Who was actually fighting?”
Broken Sue stilled, eyes on Niamh.
“Hiring mercenaries seems to be their go-to move when they’re up against a wall,” I said as Mr. Tom closed the door. He walked over and handed me a note on plain cream cardstock, which he’d already divested of its envelope in his usual way of helping himself to my mail.
“Money can buy you a victory,” Ulric said, lounging on a chair, his leg thrown over the arm. “It can’t buy you class, but it can buy you a victory.”
“Ye know from experience,” Niamh intoned.
“Nah, I don’t have money or class.” Ulric laughed. “Just wild hair, a bad attitude, and a tricky tongue.”
I frowned as I read the note. “Elliot Graves needs to see us. Well…me and whoever I want for protection. A few of us. It’s about tomorrow’s battle against Mr. Bow Tie. Chambers.”
“Why a few of us?” Niamh asked, sitting up.
I shrugged. “Just says to bring a few people if I want protection, although he says I won’t need any. It’ll be a quick chat about a rule change.” I put the note down, my stomach swirling like I’d been caught cutting class. “He probably wants to caution me. We went a little overboard.”
“You need to learn how to do that shadow soul thing or whatever it is,” Hollace said.
“Who wants to come?” I put up my hand.
“Ah, sure.” Niamh pushed herself up to standing. “I might as well. I’m bored sitting around here all the time.”
“I don’t know why,” Mr. Tom said, pulling a bowler hat and a pair of sunglasses from his disguise suitcase. “You’re doing what you always do—sit on your butt and drink.”
“No, no, don’t ye get out that stuff a’tall. Ye look like a clown, so ye do.”
“I don’t want to stand out in places where I can’t blend in,” Mr. Tom said.
Niamh stared at him for a long beat. “Then why in the beejeebus are ye putting on that garb? Are ye out of yer mind or what? Of course ye stand out, ye donkey. Who in a dark tunnel wears a feckin’ bowler hat and sunglasses? Ye’ve got to be takin’ the piss altogether.”
“We’ll all go.” Austin walked from the bedroom with tousled wet hair and a five o’clock shadow. He’d clearly overheard our conversation and decided not to primp. No watch lined his wrist, and he wore a simple T-shirt and jeans. “A Jane and some animals made laughing stocks of mages yesterday. That won’t sit well.”
I slipped my arm around his middle and gave him a quick squeeze. “Wise.”
“Cyra, at the back,” he said, pulling the door open for me. “Watch our six. Weakest in the middle. Shifters flanking.”
Shivers ran down my arms and a strange feeling quaked in my middle. We started walking before I could decipher it. The banter and relaxed chatter from a moment ago had completely dried up, everyone now on their guard. Austin was entirely correct—we’d been noticed yesterday and might be a target today. No one wanted to be made a fool of by the butt of the joke.
“Where to?” Austin asked, and I handed over the note. Rather than take it, he read the message and then nodded. As we made our way to the meeting point, cutting through the repaired and empty lobby area (with a longing look through the new double door), and into the smaller, danker tunnels, he dropped his voice to address me privately. Or mostly privately. “You let the shifters upstage you yesterday.”
“I didn’t want to accidentally kill anyone. I almost did anyway.”
“I know. And that made sense at the time. But we’re at a meeting of mages. You need to shine. You need to show them the full extent of your power, your ferocity. I think Cyra was right: Elliot knows why you’re here. He’s keeping himself away from you. He’s playing games with you, just like he was with that lesser-powered mage. You shouldn’t play by his rules. I wonder if he expects you to break them. You certainly haven’t come across as a rule follower in the past.”