“I’ve got Gael doing some fieldwork recon for me.”
“What?”
“Yeah.” Milo shrugged. “There’s a shipment of illegal enchantments coming in.”
“You sent Gael to stake out an illegal shipment of goods?” I wobbled in the air, losing all focus on my roots as my telepathy searched for my former student.
“Relax, I told Cassidy he’d be there.” Milo chuckled. “She’s gonna conveniently grab him and have a conversation about how things really work in this city. Then we’ll have a chat, and I’m going to explain the crime syndicate of Chicago. Figure it’ll do him good to meet the lady running the undercity.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Just doing my mentoring gig.”
I descended to the opposite side of the chamber room toward the small sparring section where I could practice my punches.
“I suppose you’re not going to tell the actual authorities about Cassidy’s illegal enchantment scams?” I punched the bag, picturing Cassidy’s face, Milo’s face, my face.
“It’s not a scam. They’re just knockoff medical spells. And since they’re actually affordable, I figured more folks would benefit from the ill-gotten medication than they would lose out from Cassidy lining her pockets with profits.”
I snarled, throwing another hard punch. Of course, he’d already thought it out. He always thought ten steps ahead.
“You’re putting too much weight in your strikes,” Milo said, swaggering on over uninvited. “I could show you what I mean, if you like.”
“No thanks.”
“Come on?” Milo grinned. “Stop taking out your anger on a silly punching bag when I’m offering you a much better target.”
Cocky. Cocky little bastard was trying to goad me into an argument. A conversation. And through what?
“I’m not fighting you.”
“It’s not a fight.” Milo tugged his tie, loosening it some. “It’s training.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Afraid you can’t hit me?” Milo popped his hip, using the motion to telekinetically knock the punching bag into my face.
“Son of a bitch.”
“And here I thought you always liked my mama.”
“Ass.”
“Come on.” Milo gestured an invitation while raising his fists. “We can practice combat skills.”
“Is that necessary?”
“Usually, Campbell mandates fitness evaluations for all her enchanters.” Milo circled me, thoughts playfully musing with ideas of turning this fight into something flirty.
I glared, squaring up and readying myself. “Stop treating me like I’m some rookie.”
“You kind of are.” Milo threw a few jabs, which were easy enough to avoid. “You’re new to your role as an enchanter.”
He was leading me into a verbal trap and a physical one. The flurry of slow strikes was pushing me closer to the wall where Milo meant to pin me. And naturally, I walked right into the trap without thinking.
“I’m not new,” I said, swinging a fist. “I’m just a little rusty.”
Milo pivoted out of the way and managed to kick me in the stomach at the same time. “More than rusty. Sloppy. Which is fine. You’re better than most of the enchanters here, but that’s not enough for you.”
