so the good guys don’t get their hands soiled.”
Wesley narrowed his eyes. “I never said that. We need to try to protect life at all costs. ‘Threaten and intimidate’ means only that. But there’s nothing wrong with letting whoever you’re fighting believe that you might destroy them. We at the Elite Hands of Justice have a reputation of pulling our punches, so to speak. You two are a bit more unpredictable.”
“So we can afford to look like possible psychopathic killers, but you can’t.”
Wesley sighed. “We can’t afford to sit on this, Fantazia. This caster is a menace. And if you’re only out for yourself, think about this: They’re targeting more and more powerful people. Who do you think they’re going to go for eventually?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, furious at his suggestion of my selfishness. “They’re welcome to try, but nothing’s going to hurt me at this point. I’ve picked enough fights with powerful mages to know. I’m more powerful than anyone else out there, and I’ve got protection against human weapons.” I motioned to the wards painted on my arms. “I’m not scared of anything.”
“No one’s immortal, Fantazia. Not even you,” Cyrus said. He looked mildly amused at my bravado.
I looked pointedly at Wesley. “Sure of that, are you?”
“Except him, but there’s something not right about him.”
Wesley shook his head. “Thanks.”
“The danger in thinking you’re immortal is that one day you’re going to find out you’re not,” Cyrus said to me.
I laughed. “Well, considering that I’ve been alive since before the Romans, I think I’m doing okay.”
“What about Emily?” Wesley asked. “You don’t think they won’t come after her at some point?”
It was his trump card, damn him. I crossed my arms tightly on my chest and stared him down. He met my gaze unflinchingly. I couldn’t help but be a little pissed that he was so concerned for her safety when it had been millennia since he’d been concerned about mine. But, why shouldn’t he be? She was his daughter. Within the memory of this lifetime.
She was also my half sister. I sighed. “Fine, fine. I’ll do it.”
Cyrus stared. “You will?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?” I said. “It was getting boring hanging out in that pocket universe all the time. This is the most fun I’ve had in decades; might as well rejoin the human race for a little while. But once this case is solved, I’m going back home,” I told Wesley. “Don’t get any delusions that I’m going to suddenly don a pair of tights and spend my time catching bank robbers. I help out on this and then I go back to the bar.”
Wesley nodded. “I understand.”
“And stop using your daughter as a motivator to get me to do things,” I snapped. “I’ll tell your wife, and she’ll be mad that you’re turning her child into glorified bait. And . . . you’re going to owe me one. A big one.”
“I’ll never get out of debt to you,” he said.
No you won’t, I thought. “But you’ll forget it,” I muttered.
Wesley patted me on the shoulder, the closest contact we’d had in years. “Thank you, Fantazia.” He met Cyrus’s glance. “And thank you, Cyrus.”
The techno mage shrugged. “It’s what you pay me for.”
As soon as Wesley walked off, Cyrus turned to me. “I never thought I’d live to see the day that the great and terrible Fantazia would help a group of heroes trying to save the day. I take back what I said on your birthday. The Old One must have something on you.”
I shrugged, trying to hide my gritted teeth. “It’s like I told him. I spent some time out of the loop. I’m bored and want back in, just for a bit. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” I studied him. “But what about you? Why are you doing this?”
“Just what I said: it’s what they pay me for—to do their dirty work.”
“I don’t believe that,” I said. “That’s not everything. What’s keeping you here besides the money?”
He smiled. “Money’s a great motivator, Fantazia.”
“This is about her, isn’t it?”
The smile instantly disappeared from Cyrus’s face. “Leave her out of this.” He looked away.
I laughed. “That’s what this good-guy spin is all about, isn’t it? You’re trying to make the headlines so she’ll see you in the papers and think you’re some big hero.”
“Don’t. Bring. Her. Up. Again.” Cyrus bit each word off and chewed it. He looked like he wanted to hit me. If I were a guy, he probably