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

Tristan had taken lead during Edgar’s flower show fiasco. He’d had a few moments of what the hell have I gotten myself into, followed by some hardcore self-reflection that Austin had had to walk him through. The poor guy had been thrown for a loop .

“I appreciate it,” I told him honestly, waiting for him. “Maybe you can take over my role as babysitter.”

The agent’s eyes widened as she looked up at him, taking in his height and width. Her throat bobbed with a hard swallow, and then an appreciative flush crept into her cheeks as she noticed his handsome face.

“Wingman does me just fine, thanks,” he told me, nodding his thanks to her before walking with me toward the tunnel. “I don’t have enough patience to manage that crew. It’s like herding cats toward a bathtub.”

I laughed with the analogy. “At least I’ve earned the free champagne, huh? That’s a plus.”

“You have, no question. Jessie…if I may…” He slowed as we neared the open passenger door.

“What are we walking into with this new shifter territory? I’ve heard that Austin’s brother is a lot more intense. Is that going to be a problem for our people?”

I stopped next to him and half turned, looking back the way we’d come. “Honestly, Tristan, I don’t know. Some of the shifters are nervous, which makes me a bit nervous. I suspect there isn’t a lot of joking around in their pack, and showing any levity might make them think you’re weak. They’ll want to prove their dominance over the merged pack. That might mean a lot of challenges. I just don’t know.”

“You’re saying that if my gargoyles laugh and act like normal people, they’ll get heat from these other shifters?”

I briefly hesitated in answering. “I expect so. I was warned that they’d challenge me, and that I should go hard when they do. ‘Nearly kill them’ sort of hard. I think we’re about to walk into a turbulent situation, although I can’t say for sure. It certainly defies my logic that they’d want to challenge us, since we’re showing up to help them. And what is with shifters thinking they need to have the emotional range of a stone to look tough? It’s so dumb. But…” I shrugged. “That’s the culture as I understand it. A culture Austin has slowly started to change in our pack. Other than that, I know as little as you do.”

He studied me for a long moment, his eyes sharp and wings still. A smile slowly soaked up his expression.

“A little turbulence might help pass the time,” he finally said. “Go hard or go home, right, Jessie?”

THREE

Sebastian

THEY’D JUST ARRIVED at a motel about a half-hour away from Kingsley’s territory. Austin had booked a collection of rooms so they’d have somewhere to get freshened up and wait for the basajaunak and extra supplies on the chartered flight. Once all the species in the first wave were collected and presentable, they’d travel the last leg of the journey to their new home for the foreseeable future.

Sebastian wandered a little way from the people pulling their carry-ons from the van. The Rocky Mountains rose in the distance, huge and jagged with snow-capped mountains and formidable peaks.

The sky stretched overhead, the puffy clouds seemingly right over top of them, lower than in O’Briens, given the elevation change. Trees bordered the little town, and streetlights ran the length on either side of the street.

Kingsley’s territory was due north, nestled in the rolling hills between mountain ranges, straddling a river. In all the traveling he’d done for mage dinners or conventions, he’d never been to Wyoming. It might’ve been too rural for the mages he often meddled with, but wow, it sure was beautiful.

Regardless, he knew that if he saw any mages in this area, especially right outside of Kingsley’s territory, they were enemies. That was just logic.

He watched an old Toyota slowly roll by, the man in the driver’s seat staring out the passenger window at the vans and their group of misfits. A woman walking her bulldog down the way stopped as the dog lifted its leg to a bush. She raised her hand against the glare of the sun, checking out the strangers. News of their arrival would spread fast. With any luck, they could keep their adversaries in the dark about how many mages they had.

They’d left survivors after their battle with Momar’s people in the basajaunak lands, wanting the story to get back to other mages. But it had developed and changed in ways Sebastian hadn’t anticipated, possibly because they’d hit the surviving mage with a nightmare spell and sent him home in a coffin—not the kind of thing conducive to good mental health. It was like the story had gone through a few rounds of the game “Telephone” in a loud bar full of drunks. It had been twisted and morphed, becoming something other. Something dark, about an intensely powerful magical monster.

Jessie.

Based on what Sebastian had heard through the pipeline, Momar still didn’t know the infamous Elliot Graves was helping Jessie. Sebastian would like to make sure that stayed an open question for as long as possible. The less their enemies knew, the less powerful they’d be.

“Okay everyone, listen up,” a shifter shouted, putting up his hands to get everyone’s attention.

Sebastian vaguely recalled that he was one of the shifters who’d grown up in Kingsley’s pack and joined Austin’s pack with Kingsley’s blessing.