Nikolas took several photos of the apparatus while both men asked her questions. She answered them readily enough, and when they seemed ready, she pulled out her vial of viable colloidal silver.

“You’ve already seen the end result to the process,” she said. She took her pen and drew the rune on the paper, then flipped it for them to see. “And this is the rune I use.”

“Is that Nordic?” Nikolas asked as he angled his head to study the rune.

“Yes.” She paused uncertainly. “That’s not an issue, is it?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m just not as familiar with the Nordic runes as I am with the Celtic.”

“Once you know the technique, you can get creative with your spells and use the runes you’re more familiar with,” she told him. “Drawing the rune and infusing it with the magic spell is the same technique that jewelry makers use when they create magic items. If you know how to put a cloaking spell on your sword hilt, you can do this too.”

“I understand. It’s the silver in the solution that holds the spell.”

“Exactly.” She smiled. “I use the rune Algiz for this particular spell. It’s a rune of protection, which might not seem to fit, but it can also be used for channeling energies a certain way or for turning something away. Together with the null spell, it combines to turn away or negate magic. It’s a negation, not a destruction, so the magic can always return. Get it?”

Gawain murmured, “You are one of the cleverest women I have ever met.”

Surprised by the compliment, she felt her cheeks turn warm. “Thank you. I’m not, but—thank you. Remember, I learned a lot of this from other people. I’m like a magpie. I love picking up bits and pieces of things. Then I start playing with them, and sometimes they go together in surprising ways.”

“You may have learned a lot of this from other people, but you’re the one who put it together,” Nikolas said. “Gawain said it was almost like a temporary tattoo, and he was right. You’re creating temporary magic items.”

“Yeah,” she said, pleased with the description. “And you know, painting magic spells on someone isn’t a new technique—tribal shamans do it all the time. Painting them with magic-sensitive silver just means the spells can be stronger and more durable. There’s a limited application for this, and I make magic jewelry too, amulets and such, but I like painting certain spells on my skin. You can lose a necklace or a bracelet in a fight, and rings can catch on things—I know someone who lost a finger that way—but you’re much less likely to lose a spell that’s glued onto you.”

At Gawain’s blank look, Nikolas told him, “She’s referring to the spells she used against the Hounds in the attack. They were painted on her skin with…”

When he glanced at her, eyebrows raised, she grinned. “It’s a different solution than this. I put tiny magic-sensitive silver shavings in clear nail polish.”

“Like I said. Clever, clever woman.” Gawain patted her shoulder.

Nikolas practiced working the null spell on Sophie until he cast it competently. Then it was Gawain’s turn to practice on her while Nikolas wore a null spell. By the time both men felt confident in casting the spell quickly, it was almost noon.

“We owe you a gun, along with silver bullets,” Nikolas said.

She straightened her shoulders from bending over the table. “Yes, you do.”

He picked up the last package Gawain had brought in and pulled out a metal micro gun vault, along with boxes of ammunition. She opened the vault, saw the Glock nestled inside, and patted her chest again. “Be still, my heart.”

Gawain laughed, but Nikolas didn’t. He watched her intently. “Now show me you know how to use it,” he said.

She felt a brief impulse to irritation, but it faded almost immediately into a certain kind of appreciation. He was being careful, and it was one of the things she liked best about him. He didn’t leave things to chance.

Not looking away from his face, she disassembled and assembled the gun by touch alone. It took her seconds. Then she loaded it while the men watched every move she made. She explained, “Because you should be able to do it in the dark, if need be.”

Nikolas gave her a fierce, approving smile. “Yes, you should.”

Not that she had done any of it, learned any of it, practiced any of it, to gain his approval, but that did cause the corner of her mouth to lift. Just a bit.

Setting the gun aside, she inspected the silver bullets. As she had suspected, they weren’t made of solid silver. Silver was a hard metal, and besides, solid silver bullets would be much more expensive. The bullets were jacketed ammunition, with a metal shell and tipped with silver.

As she examined the bullet, she murmured almost to herself, “You know, I’ve never run into lycanthropes in the States, but I’ve used magic-sensitive silver to make my own bullets. Once you have the hollow metal shells, it’s easy. Then I can spell those bullets any way I like. Let me tell you, a null spelled silver bullet is super useful when you’re fighting a magic user who’s out of his mind on LSD.” She glanced up to find them staring at her. She told them, “What? I was there. I saw it happen.”

Gawain breathed. “The lass makes magic bullets.”

If she’d had their full attention before, now they caught fire.

Yes, she promised to make them magic bullets. Yes, she would teach them how to make magic bullets for themselves. Yes, they would need to order a good amount of magic-sensitive silver, along with all the tools she would need for silversmithing. Yes, of course she would make a list—she wrote it out for them while they watched, then Gawain took the paper and pocketed it.