The Three Ways from Sunday RV Park in Three Way, Tennessee had been our home for the past year. Aunt Dot enjoyed running parks, and she owned or had owned at least a dozen. The way she traded property with friends made tracking her properties impossible. I was glad that headache fell to Isaac. Keeping tabs on tenants was tough, too, but the steady arrivals and departures distracted her from getting too itchy to relocate. The influx of talent also kept Isaac occupied, though crablike fae had to be a first.

A spark of interest in Dell’s reaction lit his eyes before he veiled them. “Number two…”

The rest of his changes flowed faster, and each was as unique and distinct from the last as the pincher had contrasted his natural hand. The transition was so smooth from donor to reset to the next donor that, had I not known Isaac as well as I did, I might have mistaken his arrogant scowl while performing his impression of Theo for the real thing.

By the time he worked through all seven of his reserves, an impressive number even for him, a sheen of sweat dampened his shirt.

Wiping the back of his arm across his forehead, he gestured me forward. “All right. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Hours had passed since I tasted Aisha’s blood. In theory, I should be able to summon her black pelt and claws, repeating my earlier performance. The reality was less impressive. I reached down deep, into the core of my magic, and stirred the dying embers. A tiny flicker took pity on me, and I sprouted patchy black fur down my right arm. Even that much effort left me shaking and sweaty.

“Not bad.” He bestowed a proud smile on me. “You did better than the last time we tried this.” That had been almost a year ago. “Your talents are like muscles. You have to isolate and exercise them to build strength.”

“That’s it?” Dell walked over, smoothed her hand down my arm, and the clumpy fur shed.

Innocent as her rebuke was, it still stung my pride. “It’s the best I can do.”

“For now,” Isaac corrected, cutting Dell a sour glare. “You’ll get better with practice.”

The sentiment reminded me of one Magistrate Vause had shared not too long ago, preaching how I could only get better with dedication while ignoring the reason I let these “muscles” atrophy.

“I should have gone first.” I shook out the tingles of lingering magic. “It’s impossible to follow up Isaac.”

“You’ll be kicking his ass in no time.” Ever the supportive girlfriend, she slung her arm around my shoulders. “With my grade-A warg juice pumping through your veins, how could you not?”

“Are you strong enough to continue?” Isaac intruded on my vigorous eye-rolling. “I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”