Magical Midlife Battle （Leveling Up, #8）
K.F. Breene
ONE
Jessie
LARGE WHITE VANS waited by the curb as I jogged down the steps of Ivy House. Trunks sat on the front lawn, waiting to be packed inside the vehicles by the gathered shifters and gargoyles. I stopped beside one of them, taking in the flurry of activity.
Sebastian wandered within the hustle and bustle, his head tilted down toward the electronic notebook in his hands. Every so often he’d stop at one of the trunks and peer inside, double-checking the contents. After giving a satisfied nod, he’d make a note and continue on.
“Ready?” Austin asked as he came up to me.
Wary expectation radiated through our bonds but didn’t show on his face or interrupt the confidence in his bearing. If a person couldn’t feel it, they would have no idea he was keyed up about our fast-approaching trip to his former pack.
“Yeah.” But I still took a moment to survey the goings-on.
I wasn’t worried about meeting Austin’s family or his old pack—his grandma had told me not to waste my brain space on it, and given all we’d had to do, I’d gladly taken her advice—but we were heading toward a massive battle. We’d been up late and awake early these last few weeks, hard at work preparing for a full-on battle. It felt like I’d been constantly training.
There had only been a couple breaks, one for Edgar’s flower show, where he’d showcased killer, poisonous flowers to non-magical people （he was now on flower show probation） and a date I’d taken Austin on to repay him for the fantastic dates he’d always planned for me. Other than that, it had all been fighting or magic, and I still felt like we were sorely underprepared.
At least we had something to show for our late-night magical work. The trunks of those cars were about to be stuffed full of potions, and Sebastian and I planned on making more once we got there. We needed to close the gap in magical resources between us and the enemy.
It was a very large gap.
Sebastian and Nessa had shared some numbers with us, harvested from their network. Momar was planning for annihilation. He had ground troops trained by his people, hired mercenaries, and an absolute crapload of mages. Some wouldn’t be all that powerful, sure, but others were just shy of Sebastian’s level.
We were magically outgunned—badly—and Sebastian wasn’t even sure those were the most recent numbers.
Trepidation filled me, but I made sure none of it dripped through my various bonds and connections to my people. Now was the time for leadership to show strength. To show confidence, like Austin was doing. We had to hold up our heads and make it seem like we had zero reservations that we’d come out the victors.
Learning how to put on a front hadn’t been easy for me. Thank God for Mimi’s coaching.
And yes, Austin’s grandmother had said I could call her Mimi. Well…more like demanded, then stared hostilely at me until I did so.
“Right. Okay,” I said to myself, doing a quick mental checklist of what still needed to get loaded. I turned to Austin with a nod. “Ready.”
We needed to check out Edgar’s special project.
He put out his hand for me to go first, and I led the way around the house to the backyard. In addition to Edgar’s project, I wanted to check out the grounds and make sure nothing was too terribly out of place. Dare to dream. The gnomes had become absolute terrors. Edgar really had stuck his foot in it when he’d allowed these little buggers to infest the place. It had become a real struggle not to lose my temper.
“Three waves, right?” I asked Austin, the grounds so far clear. “We’re still traveling in three waves, starting tomorrow? We’ve changed the plans so many times, I’m not sure I remember the latest.”
“Two waves, one day apart, four groups of people.”
I took a deep breath. “Right. Groups one and two will leave from the Clinton Metropolitan Airport on a commercial flight, and groups three and four will leave from the magical landing strip in a jet, since it’s too far to travel quickly on foot and we can’t take the basajaunak through a Dick and Jane airport.”
“Correct. Luggage—normal suitcases—will go with groups one and two, and trunks and the battle supplies will go in the private jets.”
“Starting tomorrow,” I said, my heart speeding up.
A flurry of anxiousness came through our bonds. “Starting tomorrow,” he repeated.
I meant to reach back and take his hand, reassuring him that we’d face his past together, but blotches of red caught my eye as we turned the corner. Paper hearts attached to sticks had been embedded in the decorative gravel along the side of the house, the items all different sizes and heights. Tightly grouped together, they created a red sea of cardboard, the path to get through it winding and convoluted. Treacherous, if you knew what awaited you somewhere in the little voids that had absolutely been built into the otherwise densely packed Valentine’s decorations.