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Magical Midlife Battle (Leveling Up, #8)(130)

Author:K.F. Breene

“Got…’im,” Tristan said, lifting the mage easily and slamming him against my magic. He cracked right through, though, as the spell was grossly weakened from the various mages’ efforts to get it down. The mage hit the back wall awkwardly, thunked his head really hard, and then went limp. That would work, too.

Austin appeared at the back door a moment later, pulling it wide and stepping through. He was nude, dirt on his chest and his eyes wild. He’d been chasing mages outside, obviously.

The pandemonium in the room was slowing, bodies on the ground and a couple of mages in little balls in the corner, shrieking and covering their heads. We’d left some alive and dispatched the rest, as per our worst-case scenario playbook.

I shifted to my human form, grabbing a muumuu off the floor at random. “How are we looking?”

“Well…” Nessa stood from the crates by the wall, glancing around. “That was probably the fastest, most effective worse-case scenario I’ve ever seen in my life. Sebastian has said it a million times, but wow, mages sure are terrified of shifting creatures. Half of them never got one shot off. Not one. The other half were totally ineffective. Did the bigwig at the back do any damage?”

“No. He was too busy trying to get through my spell at the back. The basajaunak showed up shortly after his rescue party, thankfully.”

“I didn’t get to do anything,” Cyra said with a pout, still wearing her disco-style wig. “Hollace shoved me out of the way, and then everyone got in before me.”

“Serves you right for trying to cut.” Hollace grinned at her. “I got this one.” He nudged a downed mage with his foot. “His spell singed my muumuu, though.” He pulled the front of the purple cloth wide, revealing the hole and his charred clothes beneath.

“Are you wearing a muumuu over jeans?” Ulric asked as he pulled on a muumuu that was ridiculously too big for him. Judging by the too-tight muumuu on another guardian, they’d swapped.

“Yeah.” Hollace dropped the fabric. “I can’t really shift in this setting, so I figured the muumuu was just for show.”

“Right, but…why not just wear that instead of doubling up on clothes?”

Hollace frowned at him. “It’s nippy. The muumuus are too airy.”

“I like them,” Cyra said, checking the mages on the ground and then picking up a gun. “This is—”

A blast of light shot out, as if it were a weapon from a Star Wars movie. It narrowly missed Dave and punched through the wall.

“Someone take that away from her,” Jasper shouted, giving her more space.

“Wise.” Cyra set it down slowly.

“What’s the plan?” Austin said, walking to the middle of the room as the gargoyles started clearing away mages.

“Nessa, you’re going to lead a team to…deal with all of this, right?” I asked as everyone regained human shape and muumuus.

“Jasper and Ulric have weapons detail,” Nessa said, stepping away from them. “Looks like they’re in decent shape. Momar’s people weren’t interested in those—they were interested in us.”

“So it was definitely his people?” Austin asked.

“Without a shadow of a doubt, yes, but let’s make super sure.” Nessa crossed the room to my knocked-out target and knelt down. She took up his watch, studying the face. “Yeah. A symbol next to the number four. He’s the leader of a field crew, obviously, but without a magnifying glass and a blacklight, I can’t make out the symbol or if there are any secret identifying factors. We can work all that out later. We’ll take him and the two others to the warehouse. Tristan’s with me, Sebastian will meet us there, and…Niamh and Edgar should come. Oh, Dave might be helpful.”

“What about me, what about me?” Cyra lifted her hand, practically hopping from foot to foot.

“Sure.” Nessa shrugged. “You’re unpredictable enough. Keep the wig.”

“Don’t make a big show of it,” I told her, having been assured the night before that I wouldn’t be needed for any interrogations. The most useful spell I had—the nightmare one—could be done more efficiently by Tristan. “Get the information you need and call it a day. Don’t let Cyra and Dave compete for who is better at doing terrible things.”

“She is seriously zero fun,” Cyra murmured to Hollace.

“Zero,” Dave said from across the room, not even pretending to whisper.