“Nah. They’ve got their hands full. The garhettes keep stabbing each other. They don’t seem to realize that you’re not supposed to hurt your opponent in training. You simply pretend to hurt them.
They think that’s a half-assed approach. We haven’t been able to get through to them. They’re exactly as stubborn as the gargoyles, but with less regard for their personal wellbeing.”
“They seem to be able to take a magical blast like a gargoyle, though, right?” he asked. “Has Sebastian verified that?”
“What?” Sebastian walked in with a cape pinned into his clothes and rustling around his calves.
One of the garhettes had heard the story from the border town, thought it was hilarious, and made him a better version as a practical joke. He’d get some use out of it for their plan tonight.
Niamh heard the front door opening and then the unhurried gait of Tristan, his footfalls light despite his size.
Austin repeated his question as Tristan walked into the room, showered and fresh with a button-up shirt and trendy, snug-fitting trousers.
“Yer not supposed to stand out,” Niamh told him.
Tristan glanced her over. “And you thought a muumuu would accomplish that task, did you?”
“I’ve got a change of clothes, ya muppet. What about ye? Are ye going to spend all night changing in and out of yer posh attire?”
“What’s going on?” Nessa asked, pausing with a piece of salami near her lips.
Sebastian ignored Nessa, answering Austin Steele’s question about the garhettes.
“Yeah, isn’t that wild?” He grabbed a nut from Nessa’s plate. “They don’t have the thick gargoyle skin, but they can withstand the same blasts of magic. Some of them can withstand even more because they have higher pain tolerance. I asked about that, and they said that if I’d been split in half by delivering a baby, I’d understand. To which I replied that I was fine being left in the dark. They thought that was hilarious. Funny ’cause it’s true, I guess.”
“No…” Nessa gestured between everyone. “What’s going on here? Are you going somewhere, Sabby?”
“Oh.” Sebastian frowned at her. “I thought I told you last night. Yeah, we’re going to relieve the towns of their mages.” He pointed at Niamh. “The gargoyles are already in position, right?”
“Yeah. We’ve got Ulric and Nathanial having drinks in Seyanna, Jasper and…that strange cairn leader, I can never remember that clown’s name, in St. Stein. We’ll meet Phil in Hensford. I figure we can hit those three towns tonight, no problem. They’re the closest. Then I need to start casing other towns. I don’t have a presence anywhere else yet.”
“You’ve been busy,” Tristan told her, leaning against the wall.
“I take my drinking seriously.” Niamh nodded at Nessa, whose brows had pinched together.
“What’s the story with the blasters?”
Nessa shook herself out of her stupor. “I’ve got thirty nailed down, plus a bid in for twenty more.
There’s no guarantee they’ll all work. That’s all I can find on such short notice without people asking too many questions. You’re going into the border towns tonight? Why wasn’t I told?”
“Because you aren’t going,” Tristan told her. “You need the rest. We can handle it.”
She stared at him for a tense beat before swinging her gaze to Austin Steele. “Dealing with mages is my part to play on this team. Those mages are going to have fail-safes. They’ll need to check in periodically or their superiors are going to know something happened to them. I can crack the phone codes and get that information to keep us from being exposed. You know this. Why wasn’t I told this was happening tonight?”
Austin braced his hands on the island. “Niamh can work the phones. I was told the fewer the better, and that you weren’t needed for this one. I agreed that you’d stand out.”
She paused for a beat, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. “You agreed I’d stand out,” she murmured. “And what is it about me that would stand out, pray tell? You assume, I suppose, that I’d dress to the nines and show off my tits? You don’t think I know when to tone it down to do my job?”
It was Tristan who answered. “You don’t have the ability to tone it down. You could be in a muumuu with your hair in a messy bun and literal shit on your face and you’d still be the most striking woman in any of those establishments. People notice you, Natasha. We can’t have that for this detail.”