Magical Midlife Battle （Leveling Up, #8）(101)

“Jess,” he said, his growl not doing a great job of hiding his fury. His gaze traveled every inch of my body, as though he could see through my clothes. He pulled me away from the counter and gently laid his hands on my sides. His eyes were so blue, so soft. And in a moment, his voice matched them, his fury stored away so he could treat me with kid gloves. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

My lower lip trembled, not because of what had happened—they’d gotten their asses handed to

them—but because of what could have happened. If I hadn’t been able to defend myself, I wouldn’t have fared well at all. It was a scary realization.

“I’m okay,” I said softly, laying my hands on his chest. “Honestly, Austin, I’m fine. They didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. Not to mention Edgar and Nessa were there. They helped me.”

He pulled up my shirt to look at my stomach. “Did the arrows go in far? Does it still hurt?”

His thumb brushed across a pink spot where an arrow had pierced me, the injury healed but for the tiny discoloration. The deeper ones were like that, but the shallower ones were completely gone.

“No. It’s fine. It was my gargoyle form—”

“They shot her down,” Nessa said. “She looked like a pincushion. You know, in case the guys didn’t mention that.”

Austin stilled, the rage inside of him flaring. He breathed in through his nose and closed his eyes for a moment.

“I heard,” he growled.

“I’m fine, seriously.” I showed Nessa my teeth before laying my palm against Austin’s cheek.

“Honestly, baby. I’m okay.”

He pulled me into a tight hug, his hand on the back of my head, his cheek pressed against me. He rocked me slowly, breathing me in.

“I want you to stay in tonight, okay?” he said, his voice rumbling through his chest. “I see you have the wine open. Have a glass. I’m going to go out for a bit, but I’ll be back later to—”

“No.” I pushed away from him. “Do you think I’m crazy? Austin, this town is holding a grudge against you. I can understand answering their challenge, especially since it’s disgusting that they are targeting me to get to you, but you cannot kill them.”

“Brochan and a few others will be there to make sure I don’t go too far.”

“Do you need me?” Tristan asked.

“No. I want to keep this strictly a shifter matter. It’ll hit home a little harder that way.”

“And I will keep the situation from escalating,” I said firmly. “I’ll stay out of it, but I can control the crowd without strong-arming them and causing more aggression. I can keep you from going too far without having to drag you off like some dog.” I poked him in the chest. “I’m going, Austin. We’ll knock that out, maybe have a drink, and then come back here and cuddle on the couch. And if that dickface Momar has any of his people attack me tonight, so help me God, I will go scorched earth on his ass.”

TWENTY-SIX

NESSA

NESSA COULDN’T HOLD back a lopsided grin as she watched Jessie stomp down the hall and Austin stare after her in dismay. That big, fearsome alpha would not be saying no to her. He was many things to a lot of people, but he was not pushy when it came to Jessie. Not when she’d set her mind to something.

“You did good,” Austin told Tristan, bracing his arms on the counter and hanging his head. He took a deep breath before straightening up. “You did real good. You handled that perfectly. Except maybe”—he tilted his head to either side—“telling Niamh.”

“She’ll have that place primed, everyone in whatever mood is likely to suit you best, sir. She’ll be your ace in the hole on this one, I think.”

“No.” He glanced in the direction of the bedrooms at the other end of the house. “That has always been my mate. I don’t want to drag her into this, but…”

“Pardon me for saying, sir, but you dragged her into this the second you decided to bring her to this pack. It was always going to go down like this. I don’t know what kind of man you were back in the day, but it certainly rattled some people.”

“For a while I was a nightmare incarnate.” His arms flexed, but he kept himself from showing emotion. “I was young, though. Stupid. For the five years after that, I did everything I could to turn myself around. I was a model citizen and always submissive to the hierarchy.” His whole body flexed now, like he wanted to punch something. “But then I left, and I think it ripped the fiber of the pack.”

“Staying would’ve almost certainly done the same thing, don’t you think?” Tristan countered.

“Your coming back to help is tearing that fiber in the other direction it seems, right?”

“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t,” Austin murmured, his body starting to relax.

“You can fix it,” Nessa said, crossing one leg over the other. Dealing with their drama was so much more refreshing than making decisions about her own. “Our people and Kingsley’s are mostly getting along. The shifters in town absolutely love the garhettes. The kids like Edgar’s weird flowers and how creepy he is, the basajaunak are blending in nicely, and I think most of Kingsley’s people are coming around about the gargoyles. When they realize we helped save them—presuming we do help save them and don’t all die in the process—I don’t think very many will think of you as a pariah anymore. Everyone loves a victory, but they revere a hero.” She paused, her mood dark. “And, you know, if we all die, then who cares anyway, right?”