Magical Midlife Battle （Leveling Up, #8）(48)

He paused, not elaborating.

“Just do me a favor, Jess, please,” he said after a moment. “Watch yourself. Respect my wishes.

You know I would never put Baby in a corner unless I had to.”

I huffed out a laugh, moving in to hug him. “I know. I had no notions of rebelling against my house arrest. I just wanted to understand.”

He pulled back so that he could look down at me. His breath dusted my face.

“I’m going to get a little possessive from here on out.” He tilted his head back and forth. “Maybe a lot possessive. Maybe not totally rational. My beast feels the threat to you, and I don’t have the power to freeze air to stop myself. I hope your gargoyle enjoys the ride.”

He winked at me before turning and walking down the steps.

Butterflies filled my stomach. I had a feeling my gargoyle would greatly enjoy that ride, yes. I just worried how crazy this was going to get.

TWELVE

Jessie

I GLANCED up from my magical theory book as the doorbell rang. Sebastian wanted me to start learning the principles in addition to doing spell work. Given we were both exhausted from making potions all afternoon, this was supposed to be my break for the evening.

“I’ll get it,” Nessa called from the kitchen before exiting, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “I hope it’s an angry local come to pick on Austin’s woman, because I’m going to get dibs on shooting them with the crossbow I found.”

“Where’d you find a crossbow?” I called after her, sitting forward. “And don’t kill anyone! It might just be someone selling magazines.”

Her footfalls stopped. Then started again, coming toward me this time.

She poked her head around the corner. “Did you just reference selling magazines? Did I hear that right?”

I felt my face flush. “I just aged myself, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did, Jessie. Yes, you certainly did.” She laughed and turned away as the doorbell rang again. “Just hold yer horses, pardner,” she said like a cowboy.

I hurried in her direction, in time to see her pick up the crossbow from the little table beside the door.

“Did you bring that in your luggage?” I asked, mystified.

“Nope.” She loaded it as a knock landed on the door. “I was nosing through Austin’s things, and I found it in the hall closet. Cool, right? I’m going to steal it. Don’t tell him.”

She flipped the lock and swung the door open while stepping back and lowering the crossbow, all in one smooth motion. An arm jetted forward, followed by a large body, the hand grabbing the end of the crossbow and jerking it upward. Nessa squeezed the trigger as another hand reached for her throat. The arrow lodged in the ceiling above the door as Tristan forced her back to the wall behind her and pinned her, leaning in to trap her there.

“What are you doing, little monster?” he asked in a silky voice that would probably give me nightmares. “Why are you trying to shoot me with a crossbow?”

“Damn it, you’re fast,” she said through a constricted throat, breathing heavily. “I wasn’t trying to shoot you. I was armed in case someone was coming for Jessie.”

He didn’t let her up, his lips close to her ear. “Yet you pulled the trigger.”

“Because you rushed me, dipshit. What’d you expect me to do, stand there and get my throat grabbed and then pinned to the wall while Jessie just watched?”

“And yet…that is exactly what happened…”

“Right. But this way I got to shoot a hole in Austin’s house. I think he’ll be fine with it. That sort of thing probably won’t faze him, right?”

He shook his head a little before backing off, his face inches from hers as he retreated. Their eyes locked for a moment, her body loose and pliant within his proximity despite the apparent danger. Her lips fell open, drawing his notice, and he licked his.

“Should I do something?” I asked with a grimace. “I kinda fell asleep at the wheel there for a moment.”

Tristan blinked a couple of times, as though waking from a dream, before smoothly stepping back, his eyes glowing brightly. Nessa’s face was flushed.

“No, I think the little monster and I know where we stand,” he said.

“Yeah, I need to get way faster. Next time I’ll get you, pretty boy.” She waggled her finger at him before putting the crossbow back. “Now that I have you”—she pointed at Tristan—“c’mere and taste this.”

“You haven’t had me.” His voice was whiskey and fire. “I’m eager to rectify that.”

“Heh. Nice volley.” She motioned him on.

“Brochan and the second wave are en route,” Tristan said as he passed me. “Alpha Steele requests that you meet him dressed exactly as you are. I’ll escort you there. Natasha, we don’t have much time,” he called as he followed her.

Tristan wore trendy jeans and a T-shirt that had been specially made for gargoyles to account for the wings. And, for him, the shoulders.

“What happened to dressing nicely?” I asked as I followed them into the kitchen.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask,” Tristan replied, stopping at the island and looking down at the lasagna Nessa had made. “Where’s the weird mage?”