Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
“They might be mad by the time you get back…”
It was clear she didn’t mean mad the emotion.
Austin barked orders into his phone as I told the basandere to tie them up, making sure their hands were separated and at their sides. If they were powerful enough to do spells without hand and body movements, this would still cut out the most dangerous magic available to them.
“The gargoyles will fly them to the Box,” Austin told me, hanging up the phone. “We’ll keep them there until we can get back and sort this out.”
The Box was a special holding area for mages he’d built in his storage facility. Sebastian had put up safeguards to deaden magic within the walls, keeping everyone on the outside safe. Food could be slid in through a slot in the door, like in a prison.
My magical alarms vibrated through me as I relayed that information to the basandere. A stranger was crossing into the yard. This yard, in the house we were currently inhabiting.
I sprang out of bed. I’d learned the hard way not to trust coincidences.
“We’ve got company,” I told Austin, throwing on a muumuu.
He followed me out of the room, not bothering with clothing. On the landing, I saw Tristan cross to the door beneath us, glancing back and up as he did so.
“A man with a hazy face,” Tristan said. “He’s obscuring his appearance with magic.”
“Or trying to look younger,” I said. “They do that.”
“I’ve got two gargoyles blending into the house, ready to step out and block his retreat. Not that I’ll give him the opportunity to run. Brochan is guarding the rear, leading the shifters, who are getting into position around the sides and back in case this isn’t an isolated visit.”
Tristan waited just behind the front door. When I descended the stairs behind Austin, he put out a hand to ensure I didn’t take point. A knock sounded. Tristan grabbed the door handle and paused for a moment before swinging it open and filling the space with his body.
My view of the man beyond was obscured by fluttering wings and massive shoulders, but I could just barely make out someone that appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He gasped at the appearance of the huge gargoyle-monster. The mage’s rounded eyes meant he had the ability to form facial expressions. He wasn’t trying to disguise himself with a completely different face like Sebastian did, just smoothing out the wrinkles and lines.
“Yes?” Tristan asked in a dark, whiskey voice that promised horrible things.
“Here!” The man thrust out some sort of envelope. It almost looked like one you’d use to send documents via FedEx but for the blue holiday decorations lined with silver foil. “This is for Jacinta Evans. Please, I don’t mean anyone harm. I’m just the messenger!”
…Jacinta Evans…
They had my legal name. That didn’t mean much, really, but people from the magical world tended to call me Ironheart. It felt like the mages wanted me to know they’d looked me up and had dirt on me. Or maybe there were a thousand layered meanings that Nessa and Sebastian could have deciphered for me.
“I got this,” I told Tristan, putting a hand on his arm to move him out of the way.
Instead of moving aside, though, he crossed the threshold and stepped beyond the man, coming to a stop just to the side and behind him. The man flinched and then visibly cowered within the proximity. He lifted his shaking hands.
“Please,” he said. “I’m just delivering the message. They aren’t—we aren’t hostile. We don’t mean anyone any harm. We try to stay out of all of that.” He looked over his hunched shoulder at Tristan. “Please don’t hurt me.”
If mages weren’t so dangerous, I would’ve laughed at this display.
Austin leaned against the wall beside the door, just out of sight of the mage, letting me handle it.
“He’s not going to hurt you if you mind your manners,” I told him, taking Tristan’s place in the doorway.
The man flinched again before shifting his gaze to me. Gratitude eased the anxiety in his expression. I was reminded of the first time Sebastian had met shifters.
“I will!” he said urgently. “I promise I will.”
“You asked for me?” I said as my magic curled around me, ready to be released at a moment’s notice.
“Y-yes.” He looked over his shoulder at Tristan again and then startled, probably because he’d just noticed there were two more gargoyles beyond Tristan, standing to either side of the walkway. His tongue darted out to lick his lips. “Yes.” He cleared his throat, clutching the very fancy-looking envelope to his chest. “I apologize. I’m just the messenger, like I said. This is all Arthur’s doing. He’s the one organizing.”
“Organizing what?”
He thrust it out, and his whole body shook like leaves in a gale. “You’ve been noticed. Your allegiance h-has been noticed.” He must be talking about our stance against Momar. “Given your visit to the area, Arthur would like to invite you to dinner with a small collection of like-minded mages. They have an interest in speaking with you. Just a small dinner. T-tomorrow night. He knows you are new to the magical world, so he’s included guidelines for dinner.” He coughed into his fist, waving the envelope a little. “He wants to help so you know how to behave.”