Magical Midlife Battle （Leveling Up, #8）(102)

The room was silent for a moment after she’d finished.

“You good?” Austin asked her.

“I mean…” She shrugged. “Sure, why not. Aren’t we all?”

“Okay.” Jessie returned wearing jeans and a T-shirt with her hair up in a ponytail. “Let’s get this done. I have a couch and cuddling to return to.”

Nessa shook her head, watching them leave. “Relationship goals, right there.”

Silence crept between her and Tristan, alone now, and the house suddenly seemed very still.

Sebastian was out collecting ingredients for some potion or other, and everyone who might stop by was probably at the bar waiting to see how it all went down. Nessa hoped Austin absolutely crushed the crew that had ambushed Jessie. What cowardly, despicable bags of shit.

Soon the creeping thoughts from earlier filtered back in, a thousand scenarios rolling through her head. The unnamed buyer had changed the plans, setting up the new situation, trying to play her like a pawn as if she were new to this schtick…

“What are the particulars of an informational situation?” Tristan asked. His smooth, deep voice jolted her back to reality. She’d almost forgotten he was there.

“Um…” She sagged against the cushion. Might as well talk it through. There was only so long it could be trapped in her head, circling ’round and ’round. “Okay, well, there are a few possible scenarios, usually pertaining to the identity of the buyer or the current landscape in the mage world.”

She took a deep breath. “That said, I have a shell of an alias buying a decently sized order of artillery with a time constraint—”

“Meaning a last-minute purchase?”

“Correct. A fake persona—a persona not hiding its fakeness, at that—is purchasing a good few weapons at the last minute and having them delivered for pickup to a Podunk location where Momar just so happens to be gearing up for a full-scale attack on shifters.”

Tristan sat back as well, saying nothing for a moment. “Is it possible people might think it is Momar’s organization placing the order?”

“Very, very unlikely. These are second-rate weapons coming from disreputable people on a type of magical black market. And he wouldn’t use an alias. He wouldn’t have to. It is plausible for a band of mercenaries to place an order like this. If they got a last-minute job, perhaps, like Momar hearing about all the gargoyles and garhettes showing up and adding more low-rung resources to his stockpile.”

“Would they use an alias?”

Despite the lead weight forming in her stomach, she couldn’t help the grin.

“You catch on very quickly, Tristan…” She frowned, blinking. “I don’t even know your last name.”

“Do you know anyone’s last name?”

“Brochan’s, though he doesn’t like to talk about it. It reminds him of his lost family. Austin’s.

Jessie’s.” She squinted. “No one else. Touché. Anyway, Tristan Shadowmaster—”

“You’re the shadow, not me. Isn’t that what Edgar calls you?”

“Moving on. To answer your question, it’s unlikely they’d use an alias. The person consolidating the order could be someone who’s following the situation and wants to know what new players are jumping into the fray. Maybe to catalog who will sell services to Momar, or something like that.”

“Is that plausible?”

“In a faraway universe, a distant galaxy, maybe. For us, it’s wishful thinking. Not many people would want to check up on Momar in this way, and those who would probably wouldn’t be poking

around here. There are always surprises, but it’s not likely.”

“So you’re thinking it’s Momar, and he’ll show up to this pickup party.”

“Momar himself? Never. He would never sink so low. He would send his people, though.” She chewed on her lip, back to imagining scenarios. “I’ve been going over and over this, and this is what I’m thinking. His people have been watching the area, that we know. They’ve seen the influx of people coming to this territory. Not just animals. No, people who can hold weapons when fighting.

Now there’s a last-minute order of weapons, placed in a dark corner of the magical black market by someone who’s sophisticated enough to place an order like this and get a decent price despite their obvious need for the goods. That hints at a knowledgeable mage working with the shifters. And that is where things get sticky. They’ve probably been wondering for a while now whether there’s someone besides the purple creature with house magic helping the shifters. Someone powerful. This transaction will point to someone who’s at least knowledgeable. Power and knowledge usually go hand in hand with mages.”

“Can they find you through this alias?”

“Not even their best would be able to, no. Another hint that it was placed by someone who’s been around a while. Someone who knows how the mage system works.”

“But you’re not powerful. In magic, I mean.”

“Sebastian is. All powerful mages have minions. I am said minion. I represent his power. They will be dying to know who’s behind this.”

“So it’s one of Momar’s people,” Tristan said.

“Almost certainly.”