Thanks to Maisey’s meddling, Luc couldn’t ignore Marie anymore, not if she wanted to set up the alarm system with enough time to go and do anything else today.

  “Here,” Luc said as Marie landed in front of her with a flutter of feathers. She grabbed a small but weighed down bag from the trunk, shoving it at the girl. “Carry this.”

  Marie stared at the back for a moment, and Luc expected her to reject it alongside the idea of actually working hard for something, before she opened up her hands and accepted it. “Happy to!”

  Luc’s eyelid twitched. Was this an act, or was Marie really this happy-cheery all the time? Either way, it was infuriating.

  She slammed the trunk shut, harder than was strictly necessary, and turned away from Marie. She caught Maisey’s smile and thumbs up for a moment before looking deliberately away. Whether Maisey was angling for them to get into a fight or wanted Luc to actually try and be Marie’s friend, she’d be disappointed.

  Fighting her might get her fired from being Marie’s rival, and there was no way she could be friends with someone who’d had everything in life handed to her.

  This would probably be the hardest Marie had ever worked, if she actually helped Luc out. She’d be surprised if the girl did anything but talk. That seemed to be all she was good at.

  “So what’s the plan?” Marie asked, easily matching Luc’s brisk stride toward the trees. There was no way she’d be able to string alarms around the entire property, but Tobias wanted to protect the farm’s harvest festival, so that’s what she’d do. The cows would have to fend for themselves.

  “You’re going to use those wings to help me string alarms around the tree tops,” Luc said, not looking over at the girl. Even walking as fast as she could without breaking into a run, Marie easily met her stride, not the least bit strained.

  “And what is string going to do?” Marie asked.

  “It’s called inventing,” Luc said with a roll of her eyes. “Look it up, babe.”

  Marie stretched out her free hand, and with a flick of her wrist, her wand appeared.

  Luc rolled her eyes. She could recognize mass made tech anywhere. That wasn’t close to what Luc did, not by a long shot.

  Sure, it was made out of better materials and was built to last, but it was generic.

  “Because you made that,” she drawled.

  “No, but—”

  “When you make something with your own two hands instead of throwing money at all your problems, then you can talk to me,” Luc said, cutting her off.

  Marie’s expression tightened for a fracture of a second, eyebrows beginning to draw together before they flattened back out and her smile resumed. The flicker of emotion came and went so fast, it might as well have been Luc’s imagination.

  “We all have our own strengths,” Marie said, speaking evenly. “For some of us, it’s more literal.”

  She flexed her free arm, showing off admittedly impressive muscles.

  Luc snapped her eyes away from the girl’s biceps as her butterfly drone shot past with a buzz. Heat rose to her face, eyes locked ahead on the foremost apple tree. So long as the drone hadn’t caught that look, she’d be fine. She desperately hoped the drone hadn’t caught her staring.

  The last thing she needed to do was feed Marie’s ego.

  Luc snorted. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

  “Almost thought you were,” Marie said. “I can always show you more, if that’s not enough.”

  Luc couldn’t help it. She shot a look at Marie, eyebrows raised. “Is that so?”

  Marie’s mouth split into a wide smile, pearl white teeth shining. Her eyes flashed. “Maybe if you show me yours.”

  Luc opened her mouth, tongue flailing for something to say, until that damn pink and orange colored drone flew up, hovering in the air a few feet away.

  Blood roared to her face, anger hot on its heels. It quickly overrode her embarrassment, only turning her face more red. On camera, she knew she’d look flustered, and Marie was still recording.

  “Does that make you feel important?” Luc snapped, shooting a glare at the drone. Who gave a beginner magical girl a drone to film her around the clock? It was overkill, and it was all in Luc’s business, catching everything she didn’t want it to see. She hated this rivalry, influencer bullshit. “You go home and watch the footage and stroke your own—” She cut herself off before she said anything worse. “Ego.”

  That actually got a reaction out of Marie, one that lasted more than a moment, something real. “I’m making us look good,” Marie said, swatting the drone away. It zipped off, high into the sky, hopefully out of audio range. Anything to keep her image of perfection intact.

  “You’ve got it the wrong way around,” Luc said, crossing her arms. “I make you look interesting. Nobody likes perfection.”

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  She spun away, taking a brisk walk to the base of the nearest tree, refusing to look back at the girl. If she said anything else… She had no idea what would leave her mouth.

  Luc dropped the skein of yarn into her lap, freeing the end of it and wrapping it around the base of the tree. She tied it there, leaving enough loose for her to work with later when they finished, and began to unspool more of it.

  A pair of pink ballet flats stepped up beside her, out of place amid grass, mulch, and faded leaves. “Say nobody likes perfection all you want, I saw the way you looked at me. Give me the ball of yarn.”

  Her hand stretched into view, nails perfectly done and tipped with pink nail polish. No chips, no imperfections, no snagged nailbeds. Nothing like Luc’s own hands.

  She slammed the ball of yarn into the girl’s open hand and straightened so fast her joints popped.

  “String it at the highest, widest point,” Luc instructed, jamming her arms over her chest as she stared pointedly at the trees. From the corner of her vision, she could make out Marie staring. Couldn’t the girl just stop looking at her? Then she’d be able to breathe, and maybe her heart would stop racing like she’d down a pot and a half of coffee, because she’d only drank a single cup.

  “As you wish.”

  Her wings snapped out, pearlescent feathers splaying out around her before she shot off the ground. The string of yarn went taught, but she had the wits to unspool more before continuing to fly.

  She flapped quietly from tree to tree as Luc directed from the ground, begrudgingly thankful for the help. She’d never be able to get the tree tops without someone who could fly, or maybe a ladder, but that would take her all day. Once Marie had the string connected at the top of the tree and flown over to the next, connecting it there, she dropped the ball of yarn to the ground. There, Luc was able to run the string along the ground, then throw the skein back up to Marie.

  With Marie’s help, they finished in less than half an hour, allowing Luc to move onto her next target: the pumpkin patch.

  “I don’t think I need your help anymore,” Luc said, walking briskly toward the patch.

  Marie didn’t listen. Go figure.

  She flew over and landed in the pumpkin patch, landing gently on her toes and surveying the spot around her. It wasn’t a huge pumpkin patch, but there were quite a lot of pumpkins, all in various stages of readiness. Some were huge and orange and looked ready to come off the vine. Others were tiny, little baby pumpkins still growing.

  “What’s all this for?” she asked. “Seems like a lot of pumpkins for one family.”

  “They have a festival here every fall,” Luc said, continuing to string the yarn around the field. “That’s why we’re setting this up. To keep it safe from magical infestations until after that passes.”

  “I had no idea they did a festival here,” Marie said. “When is it?”

  Luc had to think about it for a minute. “Two weeks from now, I think? I’d have to ask Tobias for a specific date.”

  “Hmm. Maybe I’ll have to come and see it for myself.” She sounded oddly wistful as she looked around, as though it was the most wonderful idea in the world. On one hand, Luc understood. She felt the same way when she thought about the farm and its pumpkin patch that she’d visited when she was little and her mother didn’t resent her so much and took her places. Marie, though, had been given everything her entire life. What interest would she even have in a farm?

  “So you plan on this little piece of string protecting the farm for the next two weeks?” Marie asked, reaching over to pluck at the string Luc had just secured in place.

  Luc shot a glare at her. The girl either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. “No, I don’t. It’s just there to alert me if something magical passes it.”

  “How is that going to work? This is yarn.”

  “Just watch. Some of us can get creative with our powers,” Luc said with a smirk.

  “I welcome your expertise.”

  Luc finished tying off the pumpkin patch and walked away, rolling her eyes. Marie was mocking her, but the joke was on her. There were things Luc could do that Marie would never be capable of. It might be her job to make Marie look good right now, but one day, Luc would surpass her. All her skills, her utility, it would mean more than Marie with her store bought tools.

  The corn field was on the other side of the farm and she’d have to secure it separately, but first, she’d finish off the apple orchard and pumpkin patch.

  Trailing the yarn back over to the tree where she’d started, she dropped her bag of tools to the ground and crouched by the tail she’d left.

  Her bag was full of odd scraps and tools scavenged from garage sales, the lost and found at school, from around the house. This bag specifically held technology scraps. Old watches, programmed kids toys, and the thing she was going to use to set up the alarm system: an ancient flip phone.

  She took it out, popping open the back and beginning to secure it to the pieces of yarn. Marie leaned against the side of the tree above her, leaning down and casting a shadow over her.

  “Do you mind?” Luc snapped, glaring up at her.

  “Oh, no.” Marie shifted, moving a few feet away.

  Luc finished securing everything in place, popped the back back onto the phone, and stood up. “There,” she said, dusting off her hands. “All done.”

  “You tied a phone to a bunch of pieces of yarn.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s going to help… how?”

  “Have some imagination,” Luc said. “Not everything works as perfectly as your power. It does work though. Just like this.”

  She leaned over, touching the tip of the phone with her fingertip, and let magic flow into it. She let it pull as much as it needed, waiting as it flowed through all the yarn they’d strung up. When it finished, she pulled back and turned to Marie with a smirk of her own.

  “Now step over it.”

  “All right…”

  She lifted a leg, stepping gingerly over the piece of yarn without touching it.

  The moment her foot passed the line, the flip phone started ringing. The next, Luc’s own phone did, vibrating furiously from her pocket.

  She pulled it out with a smug grin, declining the call and reaching down to turn off the flip phone.

  “That,” she said with a grin, “is how it works.”

  Pulling her foot back an inch at a time, Marie slowly nodded. “Yeah, it works. Can you add me to that?”

  Luc blinked. “Why?”

  “So I can respond if there’s trouble,” Marie said with a shrug.

  “Don’t think I can handle it?” Luc asked, narrowing her eyes.

  Marie flashed her that grin again, eyes shining. “I think it’s a perfect chance to see what we can learn from each other. And if you don’t add me, I can always stalk the place.”

  “Ugh, fine,” Luc said, squatting back down to fiddle with the phone. “But just so you don’t fuck it all up by trying to mess with it.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.”

  “I do not believe you.”