Home > Popular Books > Magical Midlife Battle (Leveling Up, #8)(64)

Magical Midlife Battle (Leveling Up, #8)(64)

Author:K.F. Breene

“Alpha Steele thought Ironheart would be a target,” Broken Sue said. “It didn’t seem like this was what he had in mind, though.”

“Indeed,” Niamh said. Several of the young women in the bar had taken notice of Austin. They saw a rich, handsome alpha with a hot body—a Barazza—and they knew his mate was not a shifter.

Not a shifter like them, at any rate. That sort of thing mattered in a strictly shifter pack. They didn’t get out much.

Then there was Jessie, cowed and middle-aged and needing her strong alpha to protect her in a boring neighborhood bar with limited personality and nothing really going on. These women saw a golden opportunity to have a little fun, hopefully followed by a lot of fun if they could wrangle that alpha.

Jessie would not respond well to them. Not one bit. And Austin Steele seemed completely oblivious to the danger.

“What’s the story with that other threat?” Broken Sue asked before sipping his bourbon. “Alpha Steele seemed on edge about it.”

“I’ll say. Tristan said it came from the beta and a couple of other guys with a decent amount of power. Fools, the lotta them. They’ll use Austin Steele’s people to fortify their pack, but they want him to grovel while they do it? As if he would ever.”

“And they’re trying to use Jessie to make him grovel?” Broken Sue asked.

“Apparently so. They clearly don’t know anything about female gargoyles.”

“Should we take off?” Ulric asked as Jasper sauntered over, his hair mussed and bright pink lipstick streaked along his jaw. “I don’t want to get hit in the side of the head by a barstool or anything.”

“Would ye relax, like?” Niamh turned to scowl at him. “When has she ever let her people be put in harm’s way? It’s bound to be a good show. There’s an exit right over there. Worst case, we get pushed out by her magic and take off for the bar around the block. It’ll be grand.”

“Hey, guys.” Jessie beamed at them as they got close. She was still holding tightly to her mate,

and Niamh wondered just what she was playing at. Was she trying to give the people at the bar a false sense of confidence or what? “How’s it going?”

“Oh, fer feck’s sake,” Niamh groaned, noticing the old-as-sin butler standing just outside the bar window wearing a beanie, black-rimmed glasses he must’ve stolen from Cyra, and a heavy coat with the collar pulled up around his face. “What is that eejit doing here?”

Austin Steele stared at Mr. Tom through the window for a moment before minutely shaking his head and looking away. “He showed up at my brother’s house last night, as well.”

“He’s just watching out for me. It’s fine.” Jessie’s brow was furrowed as she studied him. “I mean…it’s weird, we all know that, but it’s fine. He thinks this is his job.” She hooked her fingers into Austin Steele’s pocket and turned to him, tilting her head up. “Are you ordering drinks?”

“Of course,” he replied, bending to kiss her before signaling for the bartender.

“Austin,” the bartender said when he landed, a man in his early sixties with a full head of hair starting to thin on the top. He wiped his hands on a white towel. “I heard you were back in town.

How goes it?”

“Good, Oliver, thanks. Do—”

“And we finally get his name,” Niamh interrupted, leaning forward to give Oliver a poignant look. “Thought ye could remain mysterious all night, did ya? Well now, here we are.”

His look was bored. “It seemed like you were having too much fun making up names for me. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“Ye wouldn’t know fun if it bit ye on the arse,” she responded, knowing she bugged the holy hell out of him. It was the only distraction to be had in this place. Everyone kept themselves on a very tight leash. “C’mere, give us a smile. It’ll make ye prettier.”

Another stare before he shook his head and went back to Austin. “What can I get you?”

“Do you have a wine list?” Austin asked.

“A wine list?” Oliver huffed, looking behind him at the two Sutter Home bottles for an individual pour, their tops dusty. “We got two kinds. Red…or white.”

“A Coors would be fine, thanks,” Jessie responded.

“Bottle or draft?” Oliver asked, eyes dull as he looked at Austin Steele’s new squeeze. He wasn’t overly impressed with the choice.

 64/163   Home Previous 62 63 64 65 66 67 Next End