“Okay, I’ll call,” I said.

“He’d like to meet you in person.”

I hesitated.

“I’m sure a call would suffice, if that’s easier.”

I shook my head. “Ask him . . . No, I’ll ask him to meet us at the airport.”

Great plan. Except Sean got waylaid by an urgent summons from his uncle, and we couldn’t delay the jet. I suppose I should have been relieved. I wasn’t. I’d worked up the nerve to talk to him about Bryce, and now that I wasn’t going to get the chance, I realized I really wanted to have that conversation. Wanted to see him. Wanted to reassure him as much as I knew he’d reassure me.

Didn’t happen. Might not happen for a while.

The Cortez jet was waiting when we arrived. I spent the flight trying to cast spells.

Who—or what—was the guy in the alley? Talk of wars and champions made me wonder if I was under so much stress I was hallucinating. Worse yet, hallucinating lines from comic books.

But my powers had temporarily returned. I’d knocked three people to the floor. I’d killed a man with an energy bolt.

After two hours of fruitless casting, I tried a new tactic, clearing my mind and reaching deeper into myself, blocking everything out until I felt the faintest twitch of power.

That twitch spoiled my concentration—I got excited, then anxious when I couldn’t find it again. More resting. More relaxing. More focusing.

We were on our descent before I felt another flicker of power. I forced myself to relax, then thought of the easiest spell I knew.

The pen rose an inch, then dropped.

“Very good,” Cassandra said. “With practice, you might be able to poke someone in the eye with it.”

I glowered at her.

“I’m not saying it isn’t an accomplishment,” she said. “Only that you may wish to ask Jeremy for marksmanship lessons in between your spellcasting practice sessions. That earlier show of power was remarkable, but you can’t count on it.”

She had a point, of course. It was a start, but at this rate, not very helpful. Even if I did get my spells back, I needed to know other ways to defend myself.

I think that’s what the guy in the alley meant—the same message I’d been hearing from others for years. Being a supercharged spellcaster hadn’t made me invincible. It’d made me complacent. Take away those spells, and I’d felt weak and helpless. Only I wasn’t weak and helpless. I needed to remember that.

I’d insisted Lucas not tell anyone we were coming, so the only person who met us at the airport was the driver. We were walking through the parking lot at Cortez headquarters, when someone snuck up behind me and tickled my ribs. I yelped and spun to see Adam, grinning. Just grinning, like nothing had happened between us. He looked tired—face drawn and clothes rumpled—but very happy. And very pleased with himself.

“Hey there,” he said.

“Hey yourself. You look like shit.”

He laughed. “Thank you. Been up half the night, but I finally found what I’d been looking for.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see that Cassandra had continued on.

“What were you looking for?” I asked.

“Later. First, we need breakfast. I’m starving.”

“I ate on the plane.”

“Too bad. You’re eating again. Or watching me eat.”

We headed for the elevator.

“And you’ll tell me about this amazing discovery over breakfast?”

“Nope.”

“What?”

“I need to get stuff ready first.”

“Ready for what?”

“You’ll see.”

I looked at him, at his grin and his glowing face, and I felt . . . guilt. I’d hurt him and it shouldn’t be this easy to fix that.

I stopped walking. “About the other day—”

He clapped a hand over my mouth. “Uh-uh. I’m in a good mood. Let’s leave the angst for later, okay?”

I peeled his hand away. “I can’t. I treated you badly. I didn’t mean to, but I did, and I feel like shit.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, and you telling me it is only makes it worse because I know you’re just saying that to avoid a fight.”

He sighed, and waved me back into a corner of the garage as two guys in suits passed.

“Okay, you want to hash this out? Speed-fight, then. Five minutes. If it goes into overtime, we postpone it. Okay?”

I nodded. “I want to say—”

“Uh-uh. First shot’s mine. It’s not that you took me for granted, Savannah, it’s that you treated me like your flunky—”

“I—”

“Still my turn. I’m not a leader. Never wanted to be one. I’m happy to let Lucas or Paige make the big decisions. But if I get my choice of partner, I pick you. Because on that level—out in the field, working a case—I want a partner, not a boss. Most times, if it’s you and me, it works. But sometimes there’s a problem. You’re strongwilled and I’m stubborn.”

“I—”

“Almost done. If you insist on taking the lead, I dig in my heels. Usually you see it and you give a little and I give a little, and we’re good. But if you’re stressed, then you’re pushing hard. And if I think you’re making a bad move, then I’m pushing back hard. Eventually something’s gotta give.”

“I know.”

“So I figure the blame is fifty-fifty. You were fighting for the lead, which is always a mistake with me. But you were stressed, so I shouldn’t have gotten as angry as I did. I was just as stressed though, so it kind of . . .” He shrugged. “Blew up. I just needed a couple of days off.”

“Away from me.”

He met my gaze. “Yeah. I know you don’t want to hear that but, yeah, I needed to step back, and I think you needed it, too. Take a break before we both really lost our tempers and said stuff we don’t mean.”

“Okay.”

“Your turn then.”

I shook my head. “I don’t need it. That works for me. Step back until we cool down. I just . . .”

“You thought I was stepping back for good?”