Apparently none of them thought she’d be thrilled to not have planned a pack event herself.
I didn’t mention that it was definitely better this way. Otherwise she would’ve gotten steamrolled by Patty and the other garhettes, and her frustration level would probably have caused her a coronary.
“What are we thinking?” Nessa asked after they’d all said goodbye. Aurora had barely made eye contact with Austin, but Mac and Kingsley had both given me a hug. “Should we make food? I’m hungry and still very stressed. Austin, what do you think? Want to have a small cookoff?”
Austin’s hand drifted down to the small of my back. He kissed my temple, and I could tell his heart was full. Kingsley was making a big effort to heal the hurts of the past. To bring Austin closer into the family fold and accept me as one of them. It was touching and sweet and made me feel all gooey inside.
“Are we going to talk about the whole going-dark situation?” Austin asked, pulling open the
fridge.
“Whoa, whoa, no way.” Nessa slid across the floor, bumping into him and shutting the fridge door.
“You can’t just decide what we’re going to make. And no to your question, too—we’re going to ignore it for tonight. Otherwise no one will get any sleep and our wickedness will suffer. Patty said so.”
My stomach twisted. I hadn’t really let myself process the news with everyone else here. Now, though, the implications increased my heartbeat. The unknown was bearing down on us.
“We’re ignoring it!” Nessa pushed me to a cutting board. “We’ll get you something to chop.
Austin, what are we making?”
“Something with salt,” he responded, waiting next to the fridge.
“Har har. The chicken the other night wasn’t that bland.”
“It was so bland I wondered if you had taste buds.”
“God your jokes are terrible,” Nessa said, shoving Austin a little farther away so she could get at the fridge.
“You know,” Sebastian said, looking off into the nothing. “You guys were worried Nessa and me would get picked on when we came here. Instead, the alpha, the alpha’s mate, the shifter beta, and some of the gargoyles all got picked on. Not us. Not once.”
I picked out a knife, grateful for something to occupy my mind, even if it involved cooking.
“Maybe on some level, they knew how much we’d need you.”
“Or maybe they didn’t think we were enough sport,” Sebastian murmured, still looking away.
“Maybe they are going to be entirely blindsided by what a group of powerful mages can do.”
THIRTY-ONE
Jessie
A TEAM of gargoyles flew in formation around me as I did a last check of the territory. Very few wolves guarded the perimeter. Only a couple of gargoyles sailed in the air at the town’s border. The flat land surrounding Kingsley’s pack was quiet, the noon sun highlighting all of the territory’s rugged features. The river flowed, sparkling, and the mountains, the closest of which would house one of Gerard’s gargoyles for the next few hours, loomed. Apparently his ability to see danger coming was uncanny.
No one was coming yet, though. I knew it. I could feel it. The enemy was organizing—their preparations methodical and exacting. They were making sure everything was in place, all their weapons working, and all their people rested and ready to go. It would take longer than usual. There was more for them to lose than usual. Because this battle meant a great deal to the shifters and magical community both. If Kingsley’s territory went down, there’d be no better example of Momar’s might—and it would only be a matter of time before the rest of the shifter territories followed.
We couldn’t lose. If we did, it wouldn’t just be Kingsley’s pack and those of us who were helping them who would suffer. It would be genocide. And after the shifters were done, Momar’s crew would choose another creature to persecute. And then another.
He already had too much power, this guy. He needed to be taken down.
I dove a little, taking a better look at the river. One of the flowers moved as we passed, seeming to watch us despite its lack of eyes. Very creepy. A sparkle of silver caught my attention, and I circled lower, making sure to go wide enough for the formation to stay intact. Lower still, I saw it was another one of those metal hook or latch things we’d been finding along the river’s edge. They were incredibly hard to remove, driven down deep and sealed in with some sort of magic. Sebastian or I would have to crack the spell so a cable attached to a toe hitch could pull it out. We needed to do a better sweep of the banks, though. The last sweep had clearly missed one.