Adrenaline coursed through me. Without thinking, because that was clearly my jam, I threw the car into drive and lurched forward.

The hood of the car sliced through the artfully crafted spell. I stopped on the other side and looked back.

The magic was still there, untarnished by my intrusion.

I turned back to drive on, but it occurred to me that an essential part of training was analysis. If I wanted to learn how to work spells, I needed to know how other people put them together. What went into them. I was being presented with that opportunity right now, which clearly meant I should head outside in a storm. Clearly.

Why did I have to think so much?

I pulled over to the side of the road and grabbed my umbrella. The driving rain beat down hard, splashing the concrete around my shoes. I hurried forward, getting hammered in the shins as I did so. They’d be soaked in no time.

The weave was magnificent, like the design of a master seamstress. The colorful patterns twirled and spun together, exquisite and exciting. I felt the pulse of the spell throbbing in the air before it soaked into my middle, its intent clear.

Keep out. Danger ahead.

I felt goodness within the spell. Light. Good intentions. Whatever was happening, this spell had been crafted by someone with his or her heart in the right place.

I ran back to my car, my shins getting another blast of tumultuous water. A gust of wind layered my side with rain.

What a day to stumble upon magic.

Back in the car, I drove ahead slowly, looking carefully for any sign of additional magic. I felt it before I saw it. Evil intent. A vile undertaking. Something that would cause serious harm. I didn’t see any magic, but I could feel it, clear as day. The spell was in the stages of being cast, I’d bet my life on it. Soon, the colorful jet of destruction would bloom over the street toward its intended victim.

I didn’t think that was imagination talking, though I couldn’t be sure.

I pulled to the side of the street again, watching. If I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me.

I paused.

If magic could make people into zombies, it could also make people invisible.

Adrenaline mixed with fear had me outside of the car in a flash, umbrella and purse in hand. I thought about grabbing a tent pole, too, just in case I needed to javelin someone or something, but a quick glance at the sky made me think better of the idea. Holding a big lightning rod in a storm wasn’t the smartest of moves.

Although my umbrella wasn’t far from…

I scurried toward a leafy bush at the side of the road. A streetlight clicked on over me, showering me in its glow.

Great timing.

I tiptoed farther along and crouched beside another bush, looking out at the quiet street. A small, deserted lot sat off to the right, the green grass stretching to the playground beyond. On the other side was a tire business, its windows dark and bays closed. The burger joint was likewise closed, very peculiar for this time of day on a weekday.

“I just want a name,” someone shouted, and I recognized the voice immediately. Gravelly and low, it was the stranger from earlier in the day. I couldn’t see him, but it sounded like he was on my side of the street.

I patted my pockets, more of a nervous gesture than an attempt to find something. My stones were in my bag in the car. Not that I knew how to do anything more than throw them at someone, but I sure would’ve been happy to have them with me.

“Let it go,” someone else called out from the playground side of the street, the one that emanated evil intent.

“You’ve lost your mind if you think I’m going to let it go. Just give me a name and you walk away from here.”

“There’s three of us,” Dr. Evil yelled out. I wondered if he had his pinky to his mouth. “We’re going to walk away from here regardless.”

The stranger’s laugh was low and humorless. “My brother and I were dual-mages. Did they tell you that? My power is the same as his. You think you three stand a chance against me?”

“Were dual-mages,” Dr. Evil said. “How does that feel, when your other half is ripped from you? I’ve heard it is a wound that doesn’t heal. Think you’ll find another natural to sew it back up? That’s the only way to get peace, isn’t it? Join with another mage?”

The sound of rain pounding on cement ate away the silence. The force of the evil intent grew. Dr. Evil and his flunkies were about to throw their spell.

“This is your last chance,” the stranger said, warning clear in his voice. I felt absolutely no intent—good, evil, or otherwise—coming from his side. “Who ordered my brother’s death?”

Like a rubber band snapping, the evil intent was released. It rocketed out from the side, a mishmash of murky colors and twisted patterns.

“Watch out!” I yelled, stepping into the street and waving my hands. “Run!”

Three jets shot out from the stranger’s location, the weave so fine and intense that it blurred into one color and obscured my ability to judge its purpose. My logic picked it up easily enough, though, and even if it hadn’t, I didn’t need to wait long to see it in action.

The stranger’s magic ate away the evil spell, dissolving it into nothing before blinking out itself.

I had no idea why I hadn’t seen the stranger before. He was standing next to the street in front of the tire shop, plain as day. And he could clearly see me. I could tell because his head was turned, his face pointed in my direction.

Fat raindrops pelted my head and face like bullets from a machine gun. Cold water soaked through my sweatshirt. I barely noticed.

Crack.

A shock of death rolled toward me from Dr. Evil. I turned and threw up my hands, fast but useless.

A sheen of bright white arched around me, forming a half bubble to my front. The murky black-brown stream of badness slammed into the sheen of white. It exploded, consuming the incoming magic and then rocketing back out to follow the line of fire.

Someone screamed, a hoarse, terrified sound. It cut out suddenly. Someone else shouted. The stranger stared at me, immobile.

“Run, you blind idiot!” I yelled at him, waving my arm in an arc before turning myself. “They’ll only hurl more of them at us.” I put on a burst of speed, the same kind that had won me a great many track events.

I was back at my car in a flash. Wet and soggy, I yanked open the door and jumped inside. My seat squelched as I dug through my equally soaked canvas bag for the keys.

Another blast of color tore through the fading light, aimed for the stranger.

“What a blockhead,” I muttered, my stomach doing somersaults. They’d lob more at me soon, I had no doubt. I needed to get out of there.

“Should I save him?” I asked the quiet car as I freed my keys from my bag and jammed one into the ignition.

Another jet of magic pierced the sky, followed by two more in quick succession, all coming from the stranger’s side. Maybe he could take care of himself. I cranked the ignition as the street fell silent except for the pounding rain. My breath was loud and harried in the purring car. My heart thumped in my ears.

The stranger walked out into the street, his gait powerful and purposeful. He stopped in the very center like it was high noon, then turned toward me slowly, and I read suspicion and vengeance in every line of his tall frame. He looked like he wanted a pistol showdown with me.

“Nope!” I slammed my foot on the gas, so far removed from logical thought that my brain could’ve flopped out onto the center console and I wouldn’t have noticed. The engine revved and the car blasted forward, straight for him.

“I should’ve gone the other way,” I yelled at myself. But I wasn’t driving just then. It was that she-devil who took over covens and spoke zombies to life. The adrenaline junky who loved to push the limits of magic.

Except this wasn’t magic. It was a very heavy block of metal, and I was hurtling it at a stranger at hair-raising speeds.

“Get out of the way,” I yelled. He’d only take me on if he meant me harm, and that would be strange, since he’d literally just saved my life with the whole white shield thing. But maybe he’d decided he didn’t want a witness…

Well, if so, I wouldn’t make it easy for him—I’d leave a tire tread up the center of his body and over his face. “Move if you know what’s good for you.”

He pulled his hands up in front of him. Black fog materialized until it crystalized into a shiny orb, so black it looked like a tear in the universe. Soon it would disappear into the failing light of day.

If I didn’t run over him first.

“Last chance,” I yelled, even though he couldn’t hear me. Not that it mattered. A car headed toward you at high speed, driven by a dishonest fortune-teller, was a pretty good indicator of what was about to come.

My fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

Still he stood.

My knuckles turned white.

He stayed motionless.

My car barreled down on him, closing the distance.

He waited with his chin raised and that ball hovering between his large hands.

I lost the battle of chicken.

I wrenched the wheel. The tires squealed and the car careened, headed now for the park. I jolted in the seat as I popped the curb. Three bodies lay sprawled out on the grass, their limbs splayed at unnatural angles.

I yanked the wheel the other way, my lips forming a curse word. The car responded eagerly, but not in time.

Bump. Bump.

“Oh heavens no,” I muttered. Bile rose in my throat.

Although running over a few dead guys wasn’t nearly as bad as turning women into zombies. It was all about perspective.

I flopped in the seat as the car rolled off the curb and back into the street. Another wrench of the steering wheel and I was swerving down the middle of the road, headed toward home.

I glanced in the rearview mirror.

The stranger still stood in the middle of the street. Facing me. Watching me go.

And he knew where I worked.