Magical Midlife Dating: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Leveling Up Book 2)

by K. F. Breene

  “That lad made a right balls of the battle,” Niamh said. “Sure, he flat-out got in the way when Cedric was zeroing in on the enemy shootin’ that magic. If you ask me, yer passin’ up a grand wee lesson for the lad. What happens when you are not helpful? Left for dead, that’s what, and good enough for ya.”

  “Not much of a team player, then, ye eld bag?” Mr. Tom said from the brambles, his words a little slurred and his fake Irish accident utterly terrible and therefore hilarious.

  Niamh blew out a breath and walked away. “Speaking of letting the weak links die off…”

  “Mr. Tom, can you get out of there? Will you heal?” I paused, then added, “Could you not crawl out in your other form?”

  “No, miss, I’m okay. I was just taking a little break before I headed back into the fray. This seemed as cozy a place to land as any. A little poke-y, but nothing like a pea under my mattresses, right?”

  “Donkey,” Niamh muttered. “He’s clearly cracked his head. He’s going to have to be carried home.”

  “Oh no, I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  “Should we send someone to get a truck, and we can haul him home that way?” I asked.

  “One of the others can carry him,” Niamh replied. “Mind you, one of ’em will need to drag him out first. There isn’t enough room to fly over him and scoop him out.”

  “I’m not going to make them cut themselves up. He’s my responsibility. I’ll do it,” I said with a sigh.

  Of all the days not to bring a metal suit. Not that I had one, but still…

  “Okay, Mr. Tom, I’m going to come in and get you, okay? I’m going to take your hand and drag you out. It won’t be pleasant.” I reduced my voice to a mumble. “For either of us.”

  After walking around the perimeter and finding a smallish break on one side of the brambles, I steeled myself and shoved the branches aside, making room for me to work my way in. Given my escalated healing rate, this would merely be painful. Tolerate that for a bit, drag him out, and I was done.

  “No.” The large gargoyle stepped forward, his wings opening just a bit more, the ends dusting the ground. “I. Go.”

  “It’s fine, honestly. It’ll just be—”

  “No.” He gently placed his hand on my shoulder, the warmth sending a wash of goosebumps across my flesh. “I. Go.” The pressure of his touch made me step back, out of the way. “Me.”

  Given his skin was coarser than mine, and he seemed tough and no-nonsense, I stopped arguing. Brambles shouldn’t hurt him as much as they would me.

  He didn’t enter the mess of thorns gingerly, like I’d planned to. He marched in, thorns scraping across his arms and crushed under his feet. Red lines opened up along his skin, blood welling quickly and dripping down. He turned his head to the side and reached. His arm flexed, and then he was turning and walking back out, dragging poor Mr. Tom behind him.

  “Not as fun as exfoliating with a Brillo pad,” Mr. Tom said, his wings catching and the split one leaving a trail of blood behind him.

  The large gargoyle dumped Mr. Tom on the ground, looked down on the badly torn wing, grunted, and resumed his place in front of his men.

  “Ouch.” Mr. Tom didn’t bother getting up. “That was mostly unpleasant.”

  Another peek into the connection, and I saw Austin was almost here. As soon as we found Alek, we could all head back. I’d about had it. World’s worst flying lesson. I wished I could just throw in the towel. And now we had yet another problem on our hands—the attack, and how these mages had known where I’d be.

  Suddenly exhausted, I didn’t have it in me to be nervous about the future. I’d get to that later.

  “Mr. Tom, change into stone so you can start healing. Who volunteers to carry him?” I lifted my eyebrows as I faced the gargoyles. “He is the caretaker of Ivy House, and I am its mistress. Really? None of you want the honor of carrying him?”

  The bright pink gargoyle stepped forward, his chest shimmering with an electric sheen of blue. I hadn’t known they could come in disco colors. I quite liked it.

  “Thank you.” I nudged Mr. Tom with my foot. “Come on, change. Hurry up now.”

  “Of course, miss. I am just now summoning the energy. It is not easy, I assure you. I feel rather like a wad of gum that has been swallowed and has since been worked out the other side.”

  I frowned down at him. That wasn’t a great image, but it did seem accurate.

  In another few moments, the pink gargoyle lifted off with the stone version of Mr. Tom, the weight not seeming to affect him at all. The gargoyles who were toting our possibly alive but maybe dead attackers left with him. Only the uninjured stayed behind.

  “We don’t have long to wait for my friend,” I said as the gargoyles stood in place. They didn’t seem impatient, but then, they didn’t really have facial expressions.

  A moment later, I heard the soft rustle of something coming through the trees, something that sounded about half the size of what I was expecting. My connection said it was Austin, though, and a moment later he edged out from the dull green foliage, a massive polar bear bigger than any such creature in the wild. Standing on all fours, he was tall enough that his shoulder nearly reached the top of my head. His own head was full of sharp teeth, and each of his claws could rip a person apart with a single swipe. When he stood on his hind legs, you just really hoped he was on your side.

  Head low, a deep growl in his throat, he advanced on our group slowly. His focus was on the basalt-gray gargoyle, who, upon seeing the enormous predator suddenly in our midst, turned quickly and snapped out his wings, the claw on one ripping bark as it passed a tree trunk and the other punching into a wall of bushes. He didn’t have the space to maneuver, though. If there was a fight, Austin was much better equipped to handle it. As the gargoyles’ hands came up, though, revealing his claws, and his mouth opened to expose his long canines, it was clear he wouldn’t let that stop him.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Despite my survival instinct instructing me to get out of there, I jogged between them, my hands held high. “Whoa, whoa. Friendly fire. Austin, this gargoyle and his people saved my life. He literally plucked me out of the air. They took down someone shooting magic at us. Four people, actually. The threat is gone. What we need now is to find one of the fallen. Alek—remember Alek? He went down, and since he’s not a part of Ivy House, I don’t know where to find him.”

  Austin’s intelligent blue eyes regarded me from within his awesome beast form. His head swung slightly until he was looking at the large gargoyle again, that stare enough to unnerve even the most courageous. The gargoyle stood his ground, though, his muscles still flared and his wings fully expanded.

  With a huff, Austin took a step before dropping down to his belly, making himself vulnerable in a way that showed an incredible amount of trust in me and my ability to control the gargoyles. I ran and jumped onto his back, not making it all the way up and scrambling. He reached back with his large paw and pushed me the rest of the way.

  “Thanks.” I reached into his fur, coarse on top and baby-soft within, as he rose to all fours. “Try not to thwap my face with the branches. I don’t want to go flying again just yet. I’ve had enough of that for a while.” I turned to the others. “Follow us in the air. When we stop moving, one of you can come down and get Alek, yes? Niamh, go home. I have more than enough protection. I don’t need you bleeding out.”

  “I’ll be—”

  “Go home. You’ll only slow us down.” I stared at her, brooking no argument.

  “Fair play to ya,” she muttered. “See ya at the bar. I need a drink.”

  “Go, Lassie, go! Find Timmy!” I motioned us on, grinning at his sudden burst of speed. At least if I fell off him, I wouldn’t go splat.

  After we found Alek, we could get to the bottom of who’d wanted me captured or dead.

  11

  Niamh waited in Ivy House, her leg pounding like the bejesus and Earl hunched down in his stone form beside her. She’d m
ade him very comfortable by decorating him with doilies and potted plants. When he came out of his healing stupor, or when Jessie called him, needing something, he’d shake everything off and create a big mess that he’d then obsess over.

  It was the little things.

  The host of very polite gargoyles waited in a few of the other sitting rooms in the house, mostly dead quiet. Their kind didn’t say much. Where had Earl gone wrong?

  That crew had taken out the attacking mages without much hassle, which was good news. Bad news was that those mages had gotten Alek before they’d been taken out. He hadn’t made it. Jessie had insisted one of the gargoyles take the body back safely to Ivy House. She’d wanted to ride home with Austin. She’d clearly had enough time in the sky for the moment.

  “They’ve been gone a long time.” Edgar, standing in the corner like the creepy vampire he was, tapped the wall for some reason while looking at the grandfather clock. “Are we sure they’re coming back here? Maybe they went to the bar. Or Austin Steele’s cabin.”

  “Not a hope. Austin Steele got a good look at yer man, but he didn’t get a chance to assert his dominance. He’ll want another chance to size him up.” She steepled her fingers, calling up the memory of the largish basalt-gray gargoyle. She’d seen bigger, tougher, and more advanced fliers, but he’d do fine for the current situation. He shouldn’t be too hard to control either. If he got too rowdy for Jessie, then Austin Steele could handle him, Niamh had no doubt. She hadn’t yet met someone the vicious shifter couldn’t take down. She rued the day when she did. “It was a tense couple of minutes. You missed it.”

  “It couldn’t have been more tense than being dangled below a large gargoyle over incredible heights for a very long time.”

  “Ah, stop yer moaning. The standoff would have been even tenser if Austin Steele had thought Jessie was in any real danger—”

  “Are you sure he didn’t? I saw the gargoyle alpha from the very high cliff. He looked huge compared to the others.”

  “The whole host of them were standing there, Jessie off to the side. If Austin Steele had thought they were a threat, he would’ve approached from behind and barreled through them all, taking on the largest last. Otherwise the rest would have piled on him while he tangled up with the big ’un. Honestly, Edgar, how have ye lasted this long?”

  “Hiding in holes and shadows, mostly. People seem to forget about me pretty easily…”

  She scratched her nose, then knocked on Earl’s head. It was nice when he was quiet, but it was also nice when he served her beer and snacks. Although, when he came to and realized she’d bled all over the rug, plus pulled off the trick with the doilies and potted plants, he’d probably need a cooling-off period.

  She reached down and checked the leg wound, a nasty affair. The mage who’d hit her had attacked with some sort of healing-resistant spell. She’d leaked out her leg all the way back to the house. Thankfully, as soon as she touched down onto the property, Ivy House had patched her right up. It still hurt like a Texan’s butthole after a chili contest, but the blood had stopped pouring. She’d mend.

  She’d mend, and she’d hold a grudge.

  Someone had sent those clowns after them, and that someone was going to die slowly and painfully. She’d make sure of it.

  “Well, ye can believe me when I say Austin Steele knew they were no threat. Still, I half thought he was gonna launch himself at that big el’ gargoyle. He wanted to, I could see that. He wanted to give that gargoyle a nice el’ slap,” she said, thinking back with a grin. She shivered. That had been a nice little treat, all that hostility. Too bad the pain of her wound had blocked out the rush of adrenaline.

  “Why do that if he knew there was no threat?”

  Niamh knocked on Earl’s head again. She really did want a beer. Or a cuppa with a biscuit. She hated sitting around empty-handed. It wasn’t right.

  “Because they are two alphas, that’s why.” She grinned. “They are two alphas who can each handle a large territory without blinking, and this is a very small town.”

  “Oh. Yes, that is a problem. Austin Steele doesn’t like competition.”

  “It’s not competition he’s worried about, it’s insubordination. And this other guy won’t like that someone is trying to make him submit, especially someone that doesn’t hold the actual title of alpha.” She rubbed her hands together. “And here I wanted to retire before Jessie came along.”

  “This is the danger Jessie felt coming.”

  “Must be. Those two together will be trouble, ye mark my words. Very astute, our Jessie. Very emotionally in tune. It’s probably because she’s a mother. Mothers seem to sense things normal people don’t. If it wouldn’t have meant looking after a carpet shark, I would’ve had a bebe just to get the extra powers.”

  “I don’t know that they are exactly powers…”

  “A little extra patience for dealing with you and Mr. Tom could certainly be counted as a power…”

  “Yes, I see what you mean.”

  A presence interrupted the plane of Ivy House, immediately morphing into the feeling of Jessie and Austin Steele.

  “Speak of the devil and the devil doth appear,” Niamh murmured, wincing as she stood from her chair. “Come on, Edgar, let’s go watch the fireworks.”

  The front door swung open as Jessie neared, Ivy House welcoming its mistress home. Her hair formed a fuzzy halo around her head, and her tired eyes drooped. A smudge of dirt darkened her rosy complexion, and her disheveled clothes revealed a little more side boob than she probably realized.

  “Hey,” she said when she saw Niamh. Glancing around the empty front entranceway, she added, “Where is everyone? Where’s Cedric?”

  Jessie had the ability to feel everyone in the house, but she was clearly too exhausted to bother.

  “In one of the sitting rooms. I didn’t pass any remarks about which they chose.” Niamh looked behind her at Edgar, wondering if he’d paid any more attention to the strangers.

  He shrugged. “They’re intimidating. I figured I’d make myself scarce.”

  “Excellent protection of the house, Edgar, yes,” Niamh said, nodding as she turned back. “It’s well sorted with you around.”

  “What did you guys do with the body?” Jessie asked quietly. Austin Steele stood at her back, looking with hard eyes deeper into the house. “Alek’s body?”

  “Oh, that.” She glanced back at Edgar again. Grounds burials were his department.

  “I thought it best to drop him in the incinerator,” Edgar replied, entwining his fingers. “If someday someone digs up the grounds of Ivy House, we don’t want them to find a supernatural body. It would raise questions.”

  A crease formed in Jessie’s brow. “How would they even know? The wings? Because, I mean…we buried a ton of supernatural bodies a couple months ago after that battle…”

  Edgar leaned forward a little bit, his eyebrows crawling up toward his hairline. “Oh yes. I forgot about those. Well…” He hesitated, clearly searching his pea-sized intellect for another, more believable, excuse.

  Niamh saved him the trouble. “He got lazy and was too afraid to ask the gargoyles to dig a grave.” She waved it away.

  “Yes. That’s the way of it. But don’t worry, Jessie, no one will miss him.” Edgar crossed the room to stand just beside Niamh. “He wasn’t all that bright and he wasn’t a great flier. Why your magic called someone with training wheels, we’ll never know, huh?” He smiled, his teeth still stained red.

  Jessie’s mouth fell open and she pointed at him. “Oh my God, Edgar, did you drink from him before you disposed of him?”

  Edgar’s mouth snapped shut.

  “Waste not, want not,” Niamh said. “Don’t worry about Cedric, Jessie—he and Alek weren’t close. They were both summoned, sure, probably because you were just thinking about flying and not someone useful in other things, but they were more associates than friends. They both came here knowing the risks. Besides, he’s found…new friends.”


  Austin Steele’s cobalt gaze slid to Niamh, wild and vicious and sending chills down her spine.

  She’d be damned if she took a step back—

  Her back bumped into Edgar, who’d retreated quickly, neither fighting his fear nor attempting to hide it.

  Bollocks!

  Jessie nodded, looking left. “What’s the story with Mr. Tom? Is he—”

  The sound of boulders rolling drifted to Niamh. Porcelain crashed to the ground.

  She couldn’t help a smile.

  “That insufferable woman. She did this, I know it,” Mr. Tom muttered.

  The chuckles were unavoidable.

  “Yes, miss. Coming! Coming, miss.”

  Niamh cleared out of the way as Earl emerged from the room, stiff, wincing, a doily on his head, and one wing still nearly torn in two.

  “Oh no, Mr. Tom, are you okay?” Jessie reached out to him, compassion soaking through her eyes and a pout pushing out her lips. “You should be stone, right? Doesn’t that help you heal?”

  “I am completely fine.” He jolted forward, a lot of effort for one step. “It’s perfectly all right. You need something to take the edge off, and I need to prepare for company. Don’t worry, I will see to it directly. I just need a bottle or so of painkillers, and I’ll be at your service.”

  A man with a compact frame and short, spiky, pink-and-blue-dyed hair stepped out of the room across the way.

  “Oh. Hi.” Jessie stepped forward with her hand outstretched. “I’m Jessie. Welcome. Thank you for helping earlier. You guys came just in the nick of time.”

  “Thank us?” he said with a huge grin. “No, thank you! We’re honored you called us.” He motioned back at the room. “We’ve been waiting for you.” He looked at Austin Steele, his eyes not losing their sparkle. “Hey, bro.” He bowed, the movement casual but poignant. He was registering Austin’s superior status as the dominant male.

  Austin Steele nodded at the pink-haired man, his posture large and imposing, but then turned slightly toward Jessie and grazed his hand across the small of her back. “Would you mind if I used your restroom?”