Magical Midlife Alliance (Leveling Up Book 7), page 6
Austin took another sip of his drink. Wouldn’t that be a miracle. He wasn’t sure, though. That didn’t sound like the mage Sebastian had talked about.
On the other hand, the people they’d dealt with in the basajaunak lands hadn’t been as threatening as Sebastian thought they would. Maybe the weird mage still wasn’t properly assessing how fierce shifters could be.
“I’ll speak to our resident mage about this. He hadn’t had any word from his network last time I checked, but I’ll stay on top of it.”
She made a little hum. “You have acquired some useful people, it sounds like. Kingsley raved about some of the creatures you have in your pack.”
“Not mine. My mate’s. She brought in the power players.”
“And you tamed them, yes. Did Kingsley tell you about his talks with other packs?”
“That he was communicating with whoever he could about unifying?” he asked. She didn’t comment. “Yes. He’s got some interest, but he’s not really in a position to do anything. No one wants to jump into the fire with him.”
“Even when he was, he wasn’t enough to bring everyone together.”
“Maybe he wasn’t. But I will be. It’ll be my focus right after we prove our strength by crushing the mages.”
“That’s my boy,” she said softly, and he couldn’t help smiling in pride. She’d always had unwavering belief in his abilities.
“What do you need help with?” she asked.
He took another sip of whiskey, welcoming the fire burning down his throat. “We have what’ll probably be a few cairns of gargoyles coming to this territory. Jess needs to create an army of them, and it’ll be tough going. Part of their culture is flashy displays of wealth. That’s what the most prestigious cairns expect, at least.”
“Damned waste of time.”
During her reign as alpha, she’d never gone for posturing for the sake of show. She’d never played games. She saw no purpose in it. Neither did he, come to that, but he’d do worse for Jess.
“Our focus in this territory so far has mostly been centered around pack organization and training. We haven’t had a lot of time to devote to sprucing the place up, especially the house Jess inherited. You have excellent taste in interior design. I wondered…if Kingsley could spare you…if you’d humor me and help decorate Ivy House. After that, maybe take over some of my projects or identify some establishments on their last legs that I could take over and improve.”
“You need a business manager.”
He tilted his head from side to side. “First I need an interior decorator. After that…”
Her dry laughter rolled through the line. “You don’t want to give up control. I know a woman like that.”
She was talking about herself. He released the tension he belatedly realized he’d been holding.
“A couple of things, though.” He took a big gulp of whiskey this time, finishing the glass. “Her house is massive. A mansion. It hasn’t been updated in… I really couldn’t say.”
“Anything else?”
He grimaced. “Her crew is…eccentric. The gargoyle butler might get in the way. The groundskeeper can’t take criticism well; he often asks to be killed. The neighbor shouldn’t be a problem, but she does throw rocks—”
“Austin, I am not concerned about strange people and their antics. What about your mate? It is her house, solely?”
“It’s…kind of its own entity. It’s magical. Alive, kinda. I’m sure Kingsley mentioned it. But it belongs to her, yes. For now.”
“For now?”
“For as long as she lives. When she dies, the house will choose a new heir.”
The silence on the other end stretched until his grandma finally said, “When you ultimately choose a destination, you really go for extravagance.”
He chuckled softly and leaned his head back against the chair. “It seems so.”
“And what about the tastes of your mate? Your brother’s mate and I don’t see eye to eye about such things. She can’t stand when I come around.”
Austin bet Mimi hung around often then, just to annoy Earnessa. She found humor in things like that.
Which, now that he thought about it, seemed an awful lot like something Niamh would do. Maybe that was why Niamh never bothered him, no matter how surly she got.
“Jess is very easygoing with stuff like this. She’ll be happy not to bother with it. I’ll be the one with the critical eye.”
Mimi scoffed. “Then I’ll be done in no time. The only opinions you have came from me. You say you’re in a hurry?”
“Kingsley is in a hurry. We’re going by his schedule. Having gargoyle allies will help our efforts immensely. So yes, ultimately this needs to be done yesterday. Can he spare you?”
She scoffed again. “Can he spare me? He’ll be happy to get rid of me. I ask far too many questions for his taste, and he’s got your mom for counsel.”
His sigh of relief was audible. He’d get nervous later.
“How is Mom?” he asked, almost too quietly.
He hadn’t spoken to her in all this time, not even after he’d met Kingsley again. She was a patient woman. Too patient, probably, allowing him to find his way. Now, speaking to Mimi, he realized how much he missed her. Missed them all. It had been too long. He should’ve called. He should’ve kept in touch, at least after he’d gotten somewhat settled. He’d been a coward. Was still a coward, actually. He couldn’t bear to hear her disappointment, or worse, traces of the hurt he’d caused in her tone.
“She’s how she always was.”
How she always was—still putting the territory ahead of herself, even after stepping down from the alpha role. He’d expect no less, not from any of the Barazzas, and he knew Mimi wouldn’t either. He’d been the only one to disappoint in that way. Hopefully now he could return with a little pride after finally stepping up into the role he’d been born and bred for. Trained for.
Mimi left it at that, and so did he. Now wasn’t the time.
“I can arrange travel—”
“No need,” she said. “Just send me the address. I’ll come as soon as everything is arranged. Don’t send me pictures of the house. I’d like to see it for the first time without preconceived notions. Get together a list of vendors in the area. Ones that can handle big orders. Ones that’ll jump all over themselves for a good client. Do you have an idea of the budget?”
“Unlimited.”
Her tone turned disapproving. “I have no need for monetary theatrics, Austin. Even the richest people have budgets. Make sure your mate has some idea—”
“Mimi, you are not working on a commission. I’m not worried about you going crazy where you don’t need to. But she’ll need you to go crazy when the situation warrants it. There is no budget. The house came with more than enough riches to cover any renovations you might dream up. The wealth randomly stuffed in drawers would probably cover it, and that’s only the few drawers in the attic I’ve seen. Lord knows what else is lying around this place.” He paused, and couldn’t help the thread of pride weaving through his words. “This house is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. There is a lot of history rolled up in these walls. A lot of stories to tell. You’ll know what I mean when you get here.”
Her silence felt different this time. He suspected she was intrigued.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll be there in a couple of days, probably. Get some sleep. You sound exhausted.”
The phone went dead. His heart beat rapidly.
Part of him couldn’t wait to see her. He’d leaned on her through the years when the others had thought him too dangerous, too volatile, and too like his father. She’d been his shelter, his quiet support when he was trying to get his life on track.
But she was also a hard woman with exacting standards. She’d scrutinize Jess without meaning to. She’d have opinions on Austin’s house, his bar, his restaurants—opinions she considered as good as facts. Anything she thought was out of place…she’d force back into her perceived order. Her world existed in a series of squares and rectangles, and she was about to enter a circus of circles.
He needed her, though. He trusted her. She was family.
At least they’d have a little practice for the stubbornness of the gargoyles.
SIX
Nessa
Two days after the gift opening, Nessa stood in front of Ivy House, just barely off the property, waiting for Sebastian to arrive so they could tally up the house’s goodies. They needed to know what Jessie was working with so that they could come up with a cohesive strategy for the gargoyles.
She had an electric notepad and stylus in hand, ready to jump into action. Jessie had mentioned there was a lot of wealth lying around, but Nessa had no idea what exactly to expect. Were there gold coins sparkling in the bottom of bathtubs like pirate booty? A cauldron filled with gems at the end of a rainbow Mr. Tom had randomly painted across an attic wall? Swords and cleavers and other bloodied weapons decked out in sparkling jewels and mugs crusted in gold? She could envision all of the above.
“Captain,” Sebastian said as he walked briskly toward her, right in the middle of the street.
“What took you so long?”
Sebastian shook his head. “I met Patty in town. She told me her life story. Or maybe I told her my life story? I can’t be sure. Every time she stopped talking, it seemed like a terrible void that had to be filled. There was a dinner invite in there somewhere, and something about the Porsche. It’s all very confusing on this side of it. Anyway, doesn’t matter. I’ve got news, and then I need an update.”
Her excitement drained away immediately. She recognized that tone.
“What happened?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
He shook his head, stopping beside her on the sidewalk. “I just heard through our network the kind of numbers Momar is pulling in to attack Kingsley. It’s more than he’s used for anyone else. He clearly knows what sort of power he’s up against, and he’s not taking chances.”
“How many more?”
“Lots more. He’s also approaching this attack more cautiously. He’s systematically testing Kingsley’s defenses and mapping out the terrain. He’s getting his game plan in order so that when he finally attacks, it’s going to seem like the thunder of God. The shifters won’t stand a chance.”
“Which is why we are going to their aid.”
“Nessa…” This time his tone and the corresponding pause sent a shiver up her spine. “We’re not enough. We have two magical workers and Austin’s pack. Big whoop. Momar is preparing an army of mages and a ground troop to stand between them and the shifters. Without the basajaunak to pump up our numbers, we’re sunk. We’re as good as dead.”
“Well…” This time it was Nessa who took an audible breath, as her brain churned quickly. “Okay. What can we do?”
He nodded, obviously expecting her to say that. They both knew they couldn’t let the shifters get crushed. That would be the death rattle to their cause. Because of that, they couldn’t run away or remove themselves from the altercation. They had to get stuck in this time. They’d need to figure this out.
“I’ve been thinking.” He walked forward, onto Ivy House soil.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She put out her hand to stop him. “The house can hear you once you’re on the grounds.”
“I know. This house wants to protect the heir above all things. It doesn’t care how that is accomplished, as long as it is. It won’t care that this plan goes behind Jessie’s back.”
“We’d have to go behind Jessie’s back?”
“Yes. We’ll have to be the bad guy, but it’ll be for a good cause. This time, anyway.”
Nessa shook her head, looking at the ground a few steps ahead of her. “Unless it does care, takes the plan as an affront, and kills you before you can get off its soil.”
“Unless that, but I’ve talked over things with it before. It hasn’t killed me yet.”
“That is not exactly confidence inspiring,” she muttered, crossing the threshold. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Okay…” He started for the front door. “Nathanial has said multiple times that gargoyles are a battle species, and they would want to be dragged into our trouble if we had it. That they would want to battle.”
“Correct. I’ve heard the same thing.”
“And we both know that Jessie always rises to the challenge. She seems sweet and caring and like a pushover until it’s time for action, and then she’s a beast.”
“A very colorful, sparkly sort of beast, yes. I love how confusing she will be to mages.”
“Yes.” When they reached the porch, the door swung open on its own.
Shivers washed across Nessa’s skin, and she hesitated again. “Doors opening on their own make sense when the heir or one of the crew is around. It feels like they are controlling it. But when it’s just the house…it’s a little creepy. Like the walls have eyes.”
He laughed as he walked in without any trepidation. “You know how you always make fun of me for being jumpy around the shifters?” He paused for a reaction he didn’t get. “Well, you’ll never live this down.”
She rolled her eyes, following him. In the foyer, he pointed at the grand archway where the wooden carving had been changed from a sort of valley to a woman in a fancy dress. Two stick figures held the hem of her skirt like they were about to lift it up and peer underneath it.
“She’s going to reveal all her secrets,” Sebastian translated. “And yes, the house is communicating with us. Ivy House, do you want to show us around and point out all the hidden gems?”
The door to the most-used sitting room slammed shut, making Nessa jump. Then it opened again slowly, the hinges squeaking softly.
“We also know,” he said as they entered the room and various paintings in their gaudy and gilded frames wiggled, “that they won’t want to be led by her. Or at least we strongly suspect that.”
“They are slow to change,” she said, squinting at the painting. “Looks like these might be of value, then?” The paintings wobbled a second time.
Sebastian nodded, clearly quite good at communicating with the house. “I’ll take a picture and try to look them up.” He studied them for a moment. “They could certainly do with nicer frames.”
Nessa looked at the oil paintings, trying to find any sort of signature or tag. Not finding anything, she made note of the two pieces on her spreadsheets, leaving the dollar amount blank, as Sebastian took pictures.
“Slow to change, yes,” he said. “But as we know, if the right pressure is applied in certain situations, it acts as a catalyst. When it comes to those gargoyles, I am willing to bet the farm that a catalyst should be centered around battle and strife.”
“Stands to reason—Sabby, the wooden mural on the fireplace is changing. Ugh!” She grimaced at it. “It’s like we’re inside of a person…like…in its belly. Will your magic be able to fend it off if it gets in a temper?”
The door to the room swung hard and slammed shut. Several other doors, out in the hall or upstairs, some sounding very deep within the house, slammed shut as well. A thump sounded overhead. Something else slid against the inside of the walls.
She stood frozen with what she knew were hugely rounded eyes.
The mural that had just changed to the stick figures from earlier holding magnifying glasses now changed to one of the stick figures cowering low with ghosts flying all around them.
Sebastian laughed, of all things! It was clear this house delighted him, weirdo that he was.
“The house is playing with you,” he said as she unstuck herself from the floor and reached the door first. She turned the handle, but the wood stuck fast.
“Oh my God, we’re trapped.” She yanked on the door, then beat on it with her fists. “We’re trapped! Help! Jessie, can you hear me? Help!”
“Nessa, seriously, what…” Still laughing, Sebastian gently pushed her out of the way and turned the handle himself. The door opened smoothly. “The house isn’t a microphone. Jessie can’t hear you.” He passed into the hall. “Which way, Ivy House?”
The door to the opposite sitting room, which probably had some formal name she didn’t know, swung open. Sebastian calmly went that way.
“This house definitely needs an update,” she said, noting the three paintings that were moving and then crinkling her nose at the stale air and gaudy furniture. “Can you imagine how absolutely amazing it would be if it was updated? Like…the bones of the place are amazing. And I see what Austin was talking about in terms of the woodwork. Except for those stupid pictures, it’s all pretty awesome.”
“It just needs a refresh,” Sebastian said, peering in the drawers of an old-fashioned desk in the corner. It looked like one that a character in a Jane Austen novel would sit at to write a letter. “Check this out, Nessa.”
One drawer held yellowed paper with rough edges. Another held quills and dried-up bottles of ink. Still another held antique fountain pens with old ink staining the velvet-lined drawer.
“Nessa!” Sebastian flared his hands, half knocking her out of the way, as he bent over the next drawer. “Oh my God, Nessa. Oh my God. Is this… Look at this!”
“Well get”—she shoved him over—“out of the way and I will. Oh!”
A pocket watch sat on the velvet drawer lining with its chain askew. The gold top plate was shaped like a flower, the twelve petals spaced evenly, the style based on the clock inside, no doubt. It was decorated with embedded pearls and dulled sapphires, and the space between the petals was colored red to show off the pearls and gems.
“I don’t dare touch it,” Nessa said, moving a little to make more room for Sebastian. “It’s obviously antique.”
“Yeah, we should use gloves,” he said in a hush. “That design…is ringing a bell. I can’t…put my finger on it.”
“Historical?”
“I bet you anything it is. I’m guessing whoever owned it was royalty, or as good as.” He blew out a breath, straightening up. “And it’s just been thrown into a drawer in a writing desk and forgotten about for…who knows how long.”
