Page 13

HELP FINALLY arrived that evening, in the form of a tall, lanky man who Lukas introduced as Rían.

Rían was nothing like what Max expected, and not just because of his striking crimson eyes with flecks of gold.

He tried not to stare, but it was hard not to.

He’d never seen eyes like that outside of movies and wondered what kind of genetics had created them.

Or maybe it was a direct result of power.

The scent and pressure of magic around the other mage was thick enough that Max was sure he would have felt it even before he Sparked.

“You’re lucky I got my freelance license last year,” Rían said, the lilt of an Irish accent wrapped tight around his words.

“And your wards are shite. I could sense a mage here from two miles out,” he added, shedding a coat that looked like it was for a far colder climate than even a Colorado winter.

Beneath he wore a simple T-shirt, but Max’s attention caught on the dozens of pieces of jewelry.

Necklaces and bracelets in silver and thin leather, a simple strip of red cloth, silver rings on almost every finger.

Max might not know how to tell what spells were set in them, but every one of them practically vibrated with power.

Then Rían turned to Max and froze.

A complicated play of emotions passed over his face before he spun on Lukas.

“Three of you bound him? Are you feckin’ insane or a gobshite?

No, don’t answer. I forget you have a death wish.

” He threw his large bag onto the sofa, where it landed with a muffled clatter of glass and metal.

When Lukas didn’t move, Rían looked at him as if considering turning him into a bug. “Out.”

Lukas shot Max an apologetic look as he beat a hasty retreat. “So glad you’re not dead, squirrel,” he muttered, closing the door to the small library-slash-sitting room.

Rían grumbled softly in what Max assumed was Irish as he opened his bag.

He pulled out a large jar filled with rocks, metal strings, and something that moved like liquid but shone like a star in the night sky.

He started to open it before eyeing Max and reaching into the bag again instead.

He pulled out a strange device and tossed it over.

It was a solid circle of dark, thick metal, a cylinder in the center with a silver ball inside.

Two red lines marked a small area in the center of the cylinder.

The moment Max caught it, the strain of holding back his magic eased, as if the restless surge of flames inside him were sucked into the metal circle.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, nearly sobbing with relief.

He hadn’t realized how hard he’d been fighting against setting things on fire until it felt like all those muscles released and left him shaky.

“Thought so,” Rían murmured. “Just hold that for now while I ward the room. I’d walk you through how to do this yourself, but I can only stay for two days, and I can’t even teach the basics in that time.”

He opened a pouch hanging against his chest, and a tiny furry creature climbed out with a soft bark. “Yes, yes, I know you hate the pouch,” he said dryly, holding his hand out for the creature to climb into. “Niamh, this is Max. Max, this is Niamh, my sugar glider familiar.”

“Adorable. Hello,” Max said, laughing when Niamh preened. He desperately wanted to ask if he could pet it, but he didn’t dare.

“Don’t encourage her,” Rían muttered, but he smiled as he said it. “Let’s get this room warded, you slacker.” He tossed his hand up, and Niamh took to the air with a series of chitters and barks as she glided around the perimeter.

Max slumped into the sofa without letting go of the device, feeling helpless as Rían set to work. It was clear he knew what he was doing, and Max could only dream of ever being that confident in anything.

Rían opened the jar and placed smooth white stones along each wall.

Next came the metal strings, which he tossed into the air and caught with a web of magic, stretching, twisting, and tying them with flicks of his fingers until they formed the skeleton of a canopy around the room.

Another flick of his wrist and the strings flew to the walls and ceiling, each end of one connecting with a stone.

Niamh barked and spiraled up to touch the center, and Rían flung the jar as if slinging paint off a paintbrush.

The glowing liquid inside rushed up and out as if drawn to the metal.

The two elements sang as they touched, a high-pitched whine rising beneath the otherworldly harmony.

The pressure and weight of magic grew oppressive, threatening to squeeze Max’s lungs to pulp before Rían brought his hands together with a resounding clap, shouting something Max couldn’t understand.

The magic burst like a popped water balloon, a cascade of sparkling bits of raw magic raining down around them. When they hit the floor, they faded with a pulsing glow that seemed to be absorbed by the boundary of the room itself.

Rían let out a heavy sigh and sank onto the other couch.

“That should be enough to keep you from destroying anything,” he said, rummaging in his pack for a small vial of dark blue liquid.

He drank it with a grimace, but the pale complexion that had set in improved a moment later.

“Don’t practice your magic anywhere but in here.

I don’t have the time, power, or supplies right now to ward the entire house like this. ”

Max nodded, not about to complain. Simply knowing he had a place he could relax his hold on his magic was enough to reduce his stress levels.

“Now. I take it you don’t want the bonds gone?

” he asked, sounding resigned. When Max shook his head, he muttered what was an obvious curse under his breath and reached into his bag again.

This time he pulled out a velvet pouch and poured a small crystal globe onto the table between them.

“This’ll show us what we’re working with.

Put the trainer down and pick up the crystal. ”

Max reluctantly set the metal device aside, flames swelling inside him as soon as he let go, but he was ready and held them back. Barely. When he picked up the crystal, it glowed a bright, warm orange with specks of silver. “Fire, right? Is that bad?”

“No affinity is bad, but fire is notorious for being harder to control.” Rían held his hand out, and Max dropped the crystal into it, where it lit up with a brilliant swirl of colors. “If you recently Sparked, I’m surprised you haven’t set everything on fire yet.”

Max winced. His pile of charred toothbrushes was growing every day.

Rían raised an eyebrow, amusement tugging at his lips. “Or have you?”

“My toothbrushes.”

He laughed. “Could be worse. You’ll want to keep an eye out for your familiar,” he started, pausing when the pouch against his chest stirred. He raised an eyebrow and tugged it open as another sugar glider poked its head out and crawled into Rían’s hand .

Max inhaled sharply at the immediate pull. It was one of the cutest things he’d ever seen, but more than that, he felt like it belonged to him.

“Wondered why I had three of them,” Rían said, holding the sugar glider out to Max with a faint smile. “I think this one belongs to you.”

The sugar glider leapt across the table, gliding onto Max’s arm.

“Don’t fight the bond.”

Max wasn’t sure what that even meant until he felt the connection burrow into him, deeper than the bonds from Caius and the others.

The presence of a quiet mind bloomed inside him, and the heat that had been roiling beneath his skin since his flames first appeared cooled considerably.

He closed his eyes with a sigh of relief, the tidal pressure against his control easing even without him holding the metal device.

The sugar glider chirped and climbed its way to Max’s shoulder before rubbing against his cheek and tucking in against his neck. Its fur was the softest thing he’d ever felt, and he couldn’t resist stroking it from head to tail.

“That’s better,” Rían said, sinking back against the sofa.

He jumped as Niamh glided down and dropped the mess of metal strings in his lap before sailing around the room.

“Niamh! One of these days I’m going to skin you for your pelt,” he muttered, setting the mess aside before pointing to the metal device beside Max.

“That’s a beginner’s tool for focusing magic and learning precision.

You need to hold it with a hand on either side and let your magic flow into the metal.

The force and amount of magic will move the silver ball.

Too much or too fast and it will rise higher.

Too little or slow and it will sink. Your end goal is to keep the ball inside the red lines for as long as possible.

“For now, focus on how it absorbs all your excess magical energy. I’ll make a shield for you later so you don’t need to worry about catching shite on fire. Or exploding yourself.”

“What?” Max nearly dropped the device as alarm slammed into his chest, his heart racing.

Rían raised an eyebrow. “Fire mage,” he said, as if spontaneous combustion was a matter of course. “And you’re bound to three feckin’ shifters. Frankly, I’m amazed you’re still alive. ”

Max groaned and slumped into the cushions, holding the trainer in a death grip. He really didn’t need that extra nightmare. Bad enough he was afraid to touch anything flammable. What if he blew up Caius?

“Max,” Rían said, far more amused than he had any right to be. “Relax. By the time I’m done here, you won’t have to worry about destroying anything unless you really try.”

He wasn’t sure how much he could trust Rían, but Lukas trusted him enough to bring him here, and Caius and Quinn trusted Lukas. “Promise?”