hole on the other side, where the door used to be. Or so I thought. I obviously couldn’t see my handiwork.
Light forced its way through the inky blackness like the roots of a great oak, undaunted by the resistance, undeterred in its goal. I blasted the area directly in front of us, behind the next limo up, and heard metal pop, followed by a heavy thud, like bouncing.
I felt my people scramble toward the right, hurrying. Austin was around the back of the limo, already heading back toward me, moving faster than a non-shifter could, relying on his other senses to show him the way.
My magic blossomed through the sky, peeling back the blackness. It showered the curved sides of the great tunnel and shone against the mangled metal around me. Glass spread across the cement outside my door, Austin stepping on it in his fine suit, his hands at his jacket edges, ready to strip if he needed to change. A moment later, my stomach dropped.
My people were all standing on a cobblestone sidewalk in front of a large entryway, their eyes wide, hands hanging at their sides as they gaped at me. Behind them, glass littered the floor. What had once been a large glass double door was now a hole. Men and women in red suits, like hotel staff, cowered in the corners of the large room beyond with their arms over their heads.
Austin let go of his jacket and smoothly stepped toward me. I could feel his utter delight through the link but had no clue why.
My spell drifted away, taking the lingering blackness with it, and I noticed the lovely ornate gas lanterns suspended by chains above the road, the magical flames purple, blue, and pink. It almost reminded me of the crystals at the core of Ivy House. More lights glowed from the sides of the tunnel, highlighting the narrow road, the yellow line down the middle easy to see.
Given a couple of the limos had made their way to the curb and the rest were in the process of doing so, I suspected only the passengers had been magically blinded. Though, given the fact that everyone had made their way to the little sidewalk in front of the destroyed doors, maybe the others hadn’t been blinded for long. They’d all known exactly where to head when they (clearly) thought I was about to blow them up.
Smoke rose from one of the limos in front. I could just see another with the trunk all twisted. Someone’s luggage had probably suffered from that one.
Absolutely no one moved in the ensuing silence.
“So…” The glass crunched under my stiletto as I stepped forward, my voice echoing around the cavernous space. The late-afternoon sunlight shone through the large tunnel entrance behind me. “That was some sort of welcome, was it? Some sort of magical…howdy-do?”
“Maybe you should’ve taken some of that chocolate Ex-Lax,” Ulric said, and the pressure released. The people in red coats slowly pulled their arms away from their heads, peering over their shoulders. Limo drivers poked their heads out from around the ruined entrance, seeing if the coast was clear. Cyra’s fire swirled around her, and everyone else gave her a lot more room than she actually needed.
“Seems to me,” Mr. Tom said to Niamh, “that you failed to tell her that mages typically give a show of their power when their guests first arrive.”
“That might’ve slipped me mind, yes,” Niamh said, dusting the glass from her shoulder. “But now we know that our Jessie has more power.”
“Shh.” Mr. Tom batted at her, then looked upward and into the corners of the door. “They might have surveillance out here.”
“She’s not telling them anything they didn’t just realize.” Hollace stepped forward and looked away from us, down the long tunnel and out the small hole on the other side. “What should we do about the basajaun?”
“Did he run?” I asked in disbelief, slipping my hand through Austin’s held-out arm. I could feel the basajaun now, walking back toward us.
Mr. Tom sniffed. “Your limo driver took off running like a coward. The basajaun went after him. Apparently he didn’t like the idea of anyone getting away. Cyra, you are making black spots on the cobblestone. For a centuries-old soul, you are horribly bad at containing your magic.”
“It’s harder to control after rebirth,” Cyra said. “Doubly hard after many rebirths in a short period of time. It usually takes me a few months to level out.”
“I never thought I’d