Chapter Two

I blocked a jab from my opponent by ducking low, sweeping my leg out, and landing him flat on his back.

I stood up quickly and danced back, my arms up in guard, knowing he wouldn’t be down for long. I rotated my body as he was coming with a hook strike, slipped past it, and caught him with a cross jab that I followed through with a side kick that sent him down again.

“Very good!” A man in his sixties, dressed in a white karategi with a black belt around his waist, stepped forward. “Thank you, Pennrae and Jamil for your demonstration.” Sensei Takahara turned to the crowd that had been watching us. “I will tell you about some of the moves they performed…”

Jamil flipped up to his feet and tossed his waist-length locs over his shoulder. “Some power behind that kick. Did you forget this was a demonstration?”

“Doesn’t mean we had to phone it in.” I took a deep breath, letting the tension of the fight ease from my body.

I hadn’t slept well, and the events of the previous day were still with me. I felt okay physically, at least. As a magic user I had accelerated healing, and I’d also made poultices and balms my Tamer sister, Kinari, had taught me during my magic-era lifetime. They’d done wonders for the cut on my arm and all the bruising. An hour-long yoga session before breakfast had also helped stretch my muscles.

Jamil and I moved to the side where the other instructors were lined up, while a couple students bowed, then walked onto the mat.

Through sheer bad luck, the instructor I ended up standing next to was Callan, whose lips were twisted in a smirk.

“Not bad,” he commented. “But you missed an opportunity to land a palm strike that would have been really impressive. The leg sweep was a bit crooked, too. And you rely on side strikes a bit too much.”

“And you can shove a Bo up your ass,” I muttered.

He’d been working at the dojo for only a few months but had already gotten on all my bad sides. I gave him a sidelong glance.

When I’d first met him, I’d given him eye-candy points; a bit over six feet, a lean but muscled physique, a head of tight curls that he kept longer on top with the sides faded, brown skin a few shades darker than mine that seemed allergic to any kind of blemish, and long-lashed gray eyes. Then he’d opened his mouth and I’d just wanted to kick his teeth in.

“If you need touch-up training, I’m happy to help,” he said. He was saved from my biting response by the fact that Sensei Takahara called him to the mat next.

I was proud of the self-control I showed not to trip him. Why did he get under my skin so easily? I took a deep breath and tried to ease the frown from my face as Callan retrieved two Tonfa staffs from the weapons table, then walked to the middle of the mat.

After bowing, he performed a series of offensive and defensive moves with the Tonfa, while incorporating kicks and spins. The icing on the cake was when his black belt, which should be immovably secure, unraveled. His robe flapped opened, revealing enough of his chest and abs to bring an audible gasp from some members of the audience.

I did a slow blink, then rolled my eyes. Sensei Takahara did not look pleased, but didn’t call for him to stop. Callan deftly shrugged out of his robe and continued his demonstration completely bare chested, with the impressive tattoo that curled over the left side of his chest and upper arm adding to the shirtless appeal.

“Why do I feel like I’ve suddenly stepped into an anime?” Jamil whispered, almost causing a bark of laughter to escape.

“Blatant fan service,” I said.

“I didn’t know we could be topless,” another instructor, Mei, said. “I can’t wait until it’s my turn.” The rest of us snickered.

When Callan’s demonstration was over, he received an enthusiastic round of applause as he walked back over.

“Saw something you like?” he asked, grinning.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, a couple throwing stars your chest would have made good target practice for.”

After the last instructor bowed and walked off the mat, Sensei gave his usual speech for beginners interested in joining, and we instructors dispersed into the crowd to chat and answer questions. More people sought Callan’s attention than any of the rest of us. Why yes, train with us and you too can turn into a pompous jerk with a nice set of abs.

About an hour later, everyone had left and just the instructors and students remained to get the training room in order again.

“Showcase day is always fun, but I’m glad it’s over,” Jamil said, folding up the table the weapons had been displayed on. It was the last thing to carry out of the room. “Back to business as usual tomorrow. See ya.”

I said goodbye, then realized Callan and I were the only ones left in the room. Well, now seemed like a good time for me to exit as well, so I headed toward the locker room.

“Spar with me, Penn.”

I turned and raised an eyebrow at Callan, who was standing on the mat with his arms folded across his chest. “Pass, but thanks.”

“Afraid you can’t handle me?”

“I’d wipe the floor with you.” If he only knew the kind of weapons and combat training I’d had, he wouldn’t be so cocky. Fighting disciplines that were around today were well and good, but they still paled in comparison to what I’d learned a long, long time ago.

“I didn’t hear much confidence behind that,” he teased.

“You’re really determined to lose, huh?”

“Never said that,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve sparred with everyone else and beat them. You’re the last for my win column.”

He was baiting me, I knew that, but I really wanted to wipe that full-of-himself grin off his face. So I took a deep, calming breath, smoothed my robe, and made sure my belt was secure. Then I started to do a series of light stretches.

“Fine,” I said, watching a smile curl Callan’s lips. I was going to relish seeing that smile turn into shock.

Callan started bouncing on his toes, watching me as I approached.

I stopped a few feet away from him and we bowed, then we both snapped into a guard stance and started to circle each other. We’d see what he had to say about my techniques after I was done with him.

He started with a jab. Easy enough to parry away from.

I threw out a front kick, which he blocked, then came at me with an elbow strike that grazed my ribs. I put my arms up in guard and danced back as he tried to land various punches. I let them bounce off my guard, then dropped and did a sweeping kick, hoping to knock his legs out from under him. He moved out of the way in time, though, and caught me with a cross punch to the shoulder.

“That all you got?”

I didn’t reply, just got back into a guard stance and started circling him.

As we alternated between punching, blocking, guarding, and parrying, it wasn’t long before I was sweating and my lungs felt the slight burn of exertion. The more we fought, I realized I was enjoying it because of how evenly matched we were.

As I was distracted with that thought, he swept my legs out from under me and I landed hard on my back. The air whooshed out of me and I lay there stunned for a moment before Callan was looming over me.

“Now, I could kick you while you were down,” he said. “But I think…”

I didn’t let him finish the sentence. I took in a breath and flipped to my feet, causing him to jump back quickly. Heat flushed through my body. He thought he had me with one sweeping kick? Callan’s smirk was back and so was my annoyance. I spied the wall behind him and inhaled slowly.

I ran past Callan, did a run halfway up the wall, kicked off, and swung my legs around his neck. I locked my legs and dropped my body back, using the momentum to flip Callan over my head once my palms hit the floor. He hit the mat hard, with me on top of him in a straddle position. I snapped one hand around his throat and reared my other fist back.

“This is how this move ends,” I said. But of course I wasn’t going to punch his lights out while I had him in a chokehold. Even though it was tempting.

Our eyes locked, and I expected to see him raging that I had him pinned, but instead, he was looking at me in…wonder?

The dojo was suddenly deathly quiet, the only sound our labored breathing as we stared at each other, and I became more and more aware of the fact that I was straddling his waist.

The look in his eyes was intense, and not in his usual, cocky way. I eased my hand off his throat and moved off him, taking a few steps back as he stood up.

“That was incredible. A move like that…” He didn’t seem to know how to finish the sentence.

“Right.” I cleared my throat. “Good fight.” I executed a hurried bow and turned to make my exit.

“Do you…want to go grab a drink?” he called after me.

I stopped and did a slow, dramatic turn. “Say what now?”

“Drinks. With me,” he said. “Do you want to…”

I released a bark of laughter. I couldn’t help it. “Callan, most of our conversations since we’ve met have been…acidic, let’s say. And now I impress you with some over-the-top move and you wanna grab drinks? I kick your butt and now you like me? Give me a break.”

“That’s not it,” he said, shaking his head. “That was a great fight…a really great fight. And yeah, I know we mostly bicker, but we’ve also never spent time around each other outside the dojo. Maybe we could be friends if we got to know each other.”

“Um…” I found myself unable to form a single sentence.

“One drink,” he said, flashing a smile. “Maybe two. My treat, even, for your win.”

“Fine, we can grab drinks.” I wasn’t sure why the hell I had agreed, but the words had been said. His smile widened.

“Meet you outside in ten, then,” he said before jogging over to the men’s locker room.

I stared after him, then shook my head and headed to the locker room, freshening up and swapping my gi for denim cutoffs and a striped, sleeveless blouse.

I had wiped the floor with him like I’d said I would, so I could at least get a buzz and gloat about it at his expense.

…

The dojo was near Union Square, so Callan and I walked a short distance to St. Marks and ended up at a basement dive bar called Down Yer Gullet.

Colorful light danced over us from the bulbs that crisscrossed the ceiling. Bassy music made conversation at a normal level almost impossible, so Callan had to lean close to ask what I wanted to drink. I caught a whiff of his cologne and his cheek brushed mine as he pulled away to get the bartender’s attention. Well, he smelled good, I had to admit.

As I took in the sleeveless hooded tank, dark jeans, and flip-flop sandals he wore, I realized it was maybe the first time I’d seen him in anything other than his karategi.

Callan found success and came over with a Dark and Stormy for me and beer for himself.

He held his drink up and I rolled my eyes but smiled as I knocked my glass against his bottle. “Cheers to your win.”

“You know, I gotta say, I’m surprised you accepted your defeat with such humility,” I said, taking a sip of my drink. “Just don’t come back and say you lost because you were so wiped out from flashing your chest around during the showcase.” It felt a bit strange to be hanging out with Callan as opposed to trading barbs at the dojo, but I was starting to relax.

He laughed. “Sensei Takahara really wasn’t pleased. He gave me a piece of his mind and then some. And took me off the schedule for the rest of the week.”

“A punishment for you and a treat for the rest of us,” I teased. “Was your little stunt worth it?”

“Yes,” he said, sounding genuinely unbothered. “Because I accomplished what I’d hoped to.”

“Getting enough dates for the rest of the month lined up?”

“No, getting a healthy number of people to sign up for classes.”

“Huh?” I angled myself to let a couple people squeeze past and almost knocked a tacky print of a cat as Mona Lisa off the wall. Tacky was this bar’s entire aesthetic. There were creepy doll heads dangling amid the fairy lights, and paper-mache sculptures of animals with flowers for heads. The frog with a fly-encrusted peony head was particularly grotesque. I loved it.

“A couple weeks ago I overheard Sensei talking to the officer manager about the dojo’s money problems, and that he hoped showcase day would bring in a lot of new students,” Callan was saying. “After the showcase I heard them say they got more sign-ups today than the last three showcases combined.”

“All thanks to your chest and abs? Are you really that full of…”

“I know, I know.” He held his hands up. “It looks bad no matter what angle you come at it. It was a cocky, overconfident move, but maybe it paid off a little?” He shrugged. “At least we got those numbers. Everyone was pretty badass on the mat.”

I was quiet for a moment as I mulled over what he’d said. He’d put his chest out there to help the dojo, not preen his awesomeness to the crowd. I’d never seen Callan in that light. I guess you missed a lot about a person when all you did was trade insults.

“So, Penn, tell me about yourself. Likes? Dislikes?”

“Wanna know my favorite color too?” I said, making a cringey face.

“Right after you tell me your astrological sign and we see how well it matches with mine,” he said, grinning.

“Wow, would you look at the time.” I made a show of looking at my wrist.

“Glad to see I haven’t lost my touch with scaring off my dates.” He chuckled.

“Date?” I raised an eyebrow as I took another sip of my drink. He shrugged, a smile still playing on his lips.

“Excursion then?” he suggested. “Sounds fancier.”

“Excursion it is,” I said with a little laugh.

We bantered a bit more over another round of drinks, then left the bar, which had become more crowded and noisier.

It felt good to get back into fresher air where we didn’t have to yell-talk.

It was mid-June, so the night was warm but not uncomfortably so, and a lot of people were enjoying the Village’s night life. Off-key but enthusiastic singing blasted from the open doors of a karaoke spot. Next to it, the sounds of old school arcade games resounded from a popular bar and arcade spot. There was a nervous edge to the atmosphere, though, and I caught a few snatches of conversation about the Suniksu and the potential for more magical danger. No wonder the bars were so active tonight; if there was any reason to drink, this was it.

We passed by a tiny arepas spot, got a couple each, and ate them as we strolled. I bit into my beef arepa and made happy noises as I chewed, adding a shoulder shimmy, which made Callan chuckle.

“Have you traveled much?” Callan asked.

I seized up momentarily before I relaxed, swallowing my bite. It was a normal question for anyone to ask, but I always had to be careful how I answered. “Quite a bit for a few years,” I said. “Started out by spending two years traveling throughout Africa.”

He made a low whistle. “Impressive.”

“I did Europe and Asia for about a year, then six months island hopping in the Caribbean. After that, I spent a year and a half traveling through North and South America and Canada. I settled in Brooklyn about three years ago.”

“That’s an extensive amount of traveling,” he said. “Either you come from money, or you really know how to budget.”

“A little of both, maybe?” I said with a breezy laugh. I definitely couldn’t tell him the truth about how I’d financed my travels.

After I’d gone against a Diviner’s prophetic card reading, my punishment had been two hundred and ninety-two years of slumber. I’d woken up eight years ago in a cave protected by a time pocket with my Familiar, Ashe, who’d suffered the same fate due to our blood bond. Later on, I’d been able to pinpoint that we were in Namibia.

I was certain that Mixuné, the Diviner I’d gone to, had been responsible for keeping Ashe and I safe while we’d slept. And she’d left us a significant amount of gold and precious gemstones that I’d been able to exchange for modern currency. I’d traveled for so long because I’d wanted to get an in depth understanding of what the world was like now.

“What about you?” I asked, pulling myself out of my thoughts.

“I did some traveling after my mother died a few years ago, but not as much as you.”

“Sorry to hear about your mother,” I said. “I’ve lost both my parents. And my younger sister.”

“Sorry to hear as well. The pain never really heals, does it?”

“It doesn’t.” Not even after three hundred years.

“It was just the two of us,” he continued. “A lot of people might laugh at hearing a grown man say this, but she was my best friend. After she died, I packed up our apartment and used some of the money she left me to travel.”

“I understand. You needed space from the places that reminded you of her.” The narrow block we were walking down was crowded with overspill from three adjacent bars, so we jogged across the street where a bakery, comic book shop, and CVS drugstore were having a quieter evening.

I took a moment to glance up at the building CVS occupied. One of the reasons I liked living here was because as much as New York City was a city of skyscrapers, there was a lot of old architecture, some of which sported details made by Shapers. This building had probably been a library during my first life, judging from the carvings of magic-era creatures spiraling out of a huge book that graced the building’s ridge.

“I did need the space,” Callan said. “And it ended up being a great experience. I learned a lot. Especially about how magic still influences different parts of the world. Metropolitan places seem to have more of an affinity with Shapers. And there is a lot of reverence for the medicinal side of Tamer magic once you leave heavily populated areas. I spent a week in a remote mountain village in China and saw how masterful they were at using the plant life around them, not just in food. Architecture and medicine too. Even without the magic their ancestors had, they were highly skilled.”

“We might have stayed at the same village,” I said. “I had a similar experience.”

“Imagine if our paths had crossed during our travels. You might not have hated me on sight when we first met.”

“Hate is a strong word. It was more hate-adjacent.”

He laughed. “I’ll take that. Speaking of magic, what do you make of that fire magic construct that appeared yesterday?”

I flinched, then made myself relax. I was still processing the emergence of magic and the possibility that someone had seen me fighting the creatures, but acting squirrely about it wouldn’t help. “I was at that street fair with my friends and saw it in person, and I still can’t believe it.”

“You were there?” His eyes widened. “You’re lucky it didn’t char you. The news reported that a lot of people were badly injured. Three people were killed.”

Including the Fire Conjurer. His identity hadn’t been revealed, but he’d died at the scene. Which meant I hadn’t gotten the Jigori off him in time. I wished I could kick that magic eating mass of moldy shadows off a cliff a hundred more times.

“Do you think there are other Talented out there?” Callan asked as he bumped into me so he could sidestep a skateboarder. He grabbed my elbow to steady me before I tripped. Nice reflexes. And nice grip. Wonder what it would feel like for him to grip…

Whoa, why were my thoughts slipping there? How strong were those drinks?

We were heading uptown, so the noisy bars were replaced by restaurants where patrons were enjoying alfresco dining and people emerging from office buildings looking eager to plunge into the night life.

“I don’t know what to think,” I said. For eight years, I’d lived under the assumption that I was the only person with magic left. Then a Fire Conjurer appeared. Since the dark magic the Jigori was made of was different than Talent magic, whoever had created it was an entirely different enigma.

As we’d been walking and chatting, I realized that we were nearing the Flatiron Building at Twenty-Third Street.

Which meant we were also close to the graveyard.

It was nestled on a strip of land between Fifth Avenue and Madison Avenue, and looked out of place among the modern office buildings, restaurants, and stores.

Whenever I came here, I felt like I was stepping into a pocket of time that had frozen centuries ago. The crooked trees were as ancient as the moss-covered graves, whose engravings were barely legible anymore.

“Penn? Did you hear what I said? Don’t tell me I wasn’t interesting enough to last the entire excursion.” Callan laughed, and I shook my head slightly and turned to him. The street light cut across his jawline and made me notice that not only did he have enviable lashes, his cheekbones were right there with them.

“Sorry, I was looking at…” I paused, then decided what did it really matter if I explained? “The graveyard up ahead.”

Callan looked. “Oh, the magic-era graveyard. Do you have ancestors buried there?”

“I do,” I said, choosing my words carefully. The last thing I wanted to do was slip up and say my mother and sister were among the ancient graves.

That was the reason I’d settled here after my years of traveling.

My father had died a couple years before them, and I had yet to locate his resting place. I hoped it would be one I could visit. A lot of graveyards had been paved over to make room for roads, buildings, and parks, but some decades ago, a lot of local governments had finally made magic-era graveyards protected sites.

This one had survived disappearing because it was attached to a small church that had remained active throughout the centuries.

“Do you want to go in?” he suggested.

I did, but hadn’t expected him to be obliging. “Are graveyard visits usually part of these kinds of excursions?” I flashed a smile.

“I think it’s exactly the thing to do on an excursion.” He indicated a florist shop across the street, which was where I always got flowers before I visited.

We headed over, and I had to admit there was a warm feeling within me over Callan paying for flowers for my family.

Afterward, we entered through the slanted, wrought iron gate and headed across the lawn toward the back. A couple dozen graves were clustered here. I took a deep breath, feeling sadness settle on me as I neared.

Callan handed me the flowers and respectfully hung back as I walked the old paths between the graves. It suddenly occurred to me that it was just about the anniversary of the day they’d been brutally killed. Shortly after I’d buried them, I’d taken my revenge on their murderer, going against Mixuné’s card reading and damning myself to a long, long sleep.

All because of the Auraxa Reiv.

The Auraxa Reiv was a celestial alignment that occurred every three hundred years. It was the only time all five nexus points, celestial powered portals grounded here on earth that corresponded to each kind of Talent magic, were open. During the alignment, which lasted about three nights, all magic was intensified, which was why going against Mix’s magically binding reading punished Ashe and I with an almost three-hundred-year-long slumber.

And now the Auraxa Reiv was set to align again in about a week. Right when magic was reappearing. I couldn’t quite convince myself that the timing was a coincidence. I’d love to see magic exist again, but an out of control Conjurer and a creature of dark magic emerging right before a powerful magical constellation was about to occur gave me a lot of unease. Even though the nexus points were closed, who could say what would happen once the Auraxa Reiv aligned?

I exhaled slowly and quelled my anxiety for the time being. I could worry about that later.

When I got to my sister’s and mother’s graves, I paused, frowning as I took in the small headstones. They were more crooked than the last time I’d seen them, and there was disturbed dirt and grass on top of their graves.

A timid voice cleared behind me and I turned around to see a clergyman coming over, looking at me hesitantly and wringing his hands. “Hello, miss…ah…”

“Linbry,” I said. “Pennrae Linbry. I’ve been here many times. What happened to the graves?”

Callan came closer, his face concerned.

“I’m so sorry, we were going to inform you, but we haven’t been able to track down everyone’s contact information, and so…”

“What happened?” I said, cutting off his rambling.

“Well, we…we began working with the magical DNA website, Magic and Me, and they needed samples from those buried here, so we conducted scans to ensure it would be safe to exhume the graves. But ah…the scans indicated that one or two of the graves were…unoccupied. After which we did exhume to be certain…”

“Unoccupied,” I repeated. “Are you telling me the cemetery was grave robbed?” I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. “My family’s bodies were stolen?”

“No, no, only one, ah…” He peered around me. “Only the grave on the right was defiled.”

My head snapped to the graves, then back to the clergyman. The grave on the right was my sister Kinari’s. I felt sick. “How the hell did this happen?”

Only when the clergyman took a step back, terror coming over his face, did I realize I had stepped forward and probably looked more like magic-era warrior Penn than twenty-first-century karate instructor Penn.

“We…we are not sure, as the church’s security is usually not remiss in picking up on any disturbances, since so many people are fascinated by a site like ours that dates back to the magic-era…but…”

“But what?” I yelled, flinging the bouquets down. “Somehow people were able to roll in here, dig up a few graves, then stroll out with bags of bones flung over their shoulders? And no one contacted me?”

“Like I said, we were trying to…”

“Did you call the police? Was any evidence found? Are there any leads?” It had to be the Necromajin who’d created the Jigori. I would be naive to come to any other kind of conclusion. Necromajin were notorious corpse thieves.

I was convinced modern day zombies that peppered popular culture were derived from the rotting creatures Necromajin created from the bodies of the dead, known as Shamblers. Jigori, on the other hand, were made from the souls of magic users.

I wanted to throw up at the thought of Kinari’s bones being animated into some twisted, feral creature. I also couldn’t help but feel as though history was repeating itself.

I was losing my family right when the Auraxa Reiv was aligning.

“We have followed all the protocols,” he said, nodding rapidly. “There’s no conclusive evidence as to the culprits yet, but we assure you all is being done to recover your loved one as soon as possible.”

“I have no faith in whatever protocols you followed.” I took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling angrier than I’d felt in a long time. But also scared.

A lot of unexplainable shit was suddenly happening, and it was overwhelming. Yesterday’s Jigori and Suniksu fight had given me enough things to worry about, but now I also had to deal with my sister’s remains being MIA, and very likely in the hands of a Necromajin.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Please come inside so we can further discuss…”

“Go away.”

He didn’t wait for me to say it again, he turned and scurried back to the church.

I picked up the bouquets, which were worse for the wear, and placed them on the graves. It was only a small consolation that my mother’s body was still here, knowing that the Necromajin might come back for it, and the church’s security stood no chance against them.

When I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder, I jolted. I’d all but forgotten about Callan as I’d raged at the clergyman.

“There’s nothing I can say. It’s horrible. I’m really sorry, which is piss poor comfort, I know.” He squeezed my shoulder and I calmed down a smidge.

Overactive emotions wouldn’t help me get to the bottom of what had happened to Kinari. I took a deep breath and turned around, looking down at her grave as though it’d provide a clue.

“I wish I could help.” He let go of my shoulder and leaned forward, laying his hand on top of Kinari’s headstone. Then he swayed and fell to his knees.

“Whoa!” I let go of his hand so I could hold his shoulders and keep him from collapsing forward. He was holding his head and groaning in pain, his body shaking.

I had no idea what to do. If I left him to get help, I wasn’t sure what would happen to him, because I had no clue what was wrong.

After a few moments he seemed to be getting himself under control, though. His chest heaved as he dragged in air, but he let go of his head and instead braced his hands against the ground.

I saw his throat working as he swallowed, so I fished out a water bottle from my bag and gave it to him. He drained it and seemed better after. Eventually, his breathing became more measured and he slowly sat back, dusting off his hands.

“Well,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. “That was mildly embarrassing. I’m really sorry about that.”

I was relieved he seemed to be okay and helped him stand up. “Do you need to go to a hospital? I can…”

“No. I know it looked bad, but it’s just a…condition I have. And now I feel pretty ridiculous because you were in the middle of dealing with something serious and I go and have an episode.”

“It’s okay…” I glanced at Kinari’s grave. I was still disturbed, but if Callan needed help, that’s what I had to focus on right now. “Condition…?”

“Intense headaches,” he explained. “I see a flash of images and then there’s pain. I’ve been dealing with them for a few years. No medication works, and every scan shows nothing unusual going on inside my brain.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t happen frequently, so I’ve learned to live with it.” He scratched the back of his head.

“If you’re sure you don’t wanna go get checked out, maybe we should bring the night to a close.”

He cringed. “Ouch, let a guy down easy, why don’t you?”

“I’m just trying to avoid a murder charge if you die on me,” I teased as we left the graveyard.

He clutched his chest and staggered a couple steps. “Your words cut deep. Definitely wouldn’t be the headaches that do me in.” We laughed, then sobered as we left the graveyard and I turned to stare at the shadows where my mother’s and sister’s graves were.

“I hope they find your family’s remains,” he said, voice low.

My throat grew tight. Despite the diversion with Callan’s headache, it wasn’t easy trying to gather myself past this new shock. I wanted to throw my head back and scream. Then I wanted to punch something really hard, repeatedly. I settled for resolving silently that I would get Kinari’s body back.

“Can I call you a car service?” Callan asked once we’d exited the graveyard.

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“C’mon, let me be the gentleman here.”

“I appreciate it, but it’s a short subway ride back to Brooklyn. I’m good.” There was a pause between us, then Callan stepped closer and wrapped his arms around me.

I stood rigid from shock for a moment as my brain tried to keep up with the fact that Callan, of all people, was hugging me. However, after a few moments I found myself relaxing into his embrace, and dare I say even drawing strength from him.

I wasn’t used to leaning on anyone, and Callan didn’t know the depth of the things I was dealing with, but something about his solid embrace made me feel comforted.

He pulled back but stayed close. “Can we do this again sometime?” His eyes dropped to my lips and my pulse quickened. He was close enough that I could almost break down each ingredient in his cologne.

I bit my lip, realizing that there was a spark of attraction flaring within me. I’d always found Callan to be good-looking; he was fine as hell if I was being honest. Until tonight, his attitude had been so off-putting I hadn’t had any inclination to seduce him. But Callan had been right, we hadn’t spent time with each other outside the dojo, and now that we had…

A sly smile curled my lips. “Is this where I ask my place or yours?”

He chuckled, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. I followed the movement and stepped closer, that spark of attraction growing stronger. Yeah, I had definitely moved past thinking Callan was an arrogant jerk.

“I actually meant…a date.”

“A…date?” Why did I suddenly feel like I had slammed against a wall?

“If you’re open to it, I’d like to take you out again, plan something you might enjoy. I promise I can be more adventurous than movies and dinner. There are some great theater productions going on right now.”

“Uh…”

“I know we haven’t gotten along…” His eyes searched my face. “But I’d like to change that.”

I blew out a breath, feeling irritated and interested and thus confused.

I didn’t date. I hooked up. There was no point in letting a man get close to me when I couldn’t truly be myself. I felt horrible enough about Gideon and Toji not knowing the real me.

I’d been prepared to enjoy Callan’s body for a few weeks, maybe even a month or two if he could keep things interesting that long. I was not prepared to go on dates with him.

Especially now, when I had bigger things to deal with, like tracking down the Necromajin who’d stolen Kinari’s body and figuring out how the hell magic was resurfacing.

“Dating isn’t my thing, sorry.” I stepped away from him and took a deep breath to steady myself and force the simmering attraction to evaporate.

He released a bark of laughter. “Dating isn’t your thing? Who says that?”

“I do,” I said shortly. “Thanks, but no thanks. I did have a good time tonight, though. Probably won’t threaten to shove Bos in uncomfortable places anymore. Goodnight.”

“Penn, wait…” His brow furrowed and he reached toward me but I moved away.

I flashed a smile and gave him a wave, then turned and headed to the subway. I was glad he didn’t decide to follow.

Callan wanted to date me. I was no stranger to men wanting more from me than I could or wanted to give, but I had to admit I took no pleasure in rejecting Callan.

I sighed as the subway’s swampy fold enveloped me and I tried to forget what the pulse of Callan’s body heat felt like against my skin. I’d started the day wanting to throttle him and ended it by almost kissing him. Throw in Kinari’s missing bones and…yeah, today was a very strange day.