Twenty-Eight
The next three weeks passed in a blur.
With the new direction for Ivy House, using staging furniture, which was much faster than choosing a household full of new stuff, I was able to get the house ready in a couple weeks (the old stuff was in storage). The representative from the company had helped me pick out the latest looks. It didn’t look as good as Austin’s place, but it would work. When this all settled down, I’d force Austin to help me redecorate. I would never admit it to Ivy House, but I liked his house better. It really did look and feel like home. I loved watching the sunset with him from the deck, soaking in the sweeping views of the valley.
I’d stayed there a few nights, drooling over him while he cooked, letting Kingsley spoil me by doing the dishes, and ending the night by twisting in the sheets with Austin. The man was an absolute legend. He could evoke sensations in me that I hadn’t even known were possible. He was relentless, fully ensuring my satisfaction over and over. With some guys, “all night” could be tedious. Not with him. I couldn’t get enough. I’d become insatiable.
But I had a duty to the people of Ivy House (literally). They were counting on me. I had to remain focused on the possible magical threat posed by the visiting mage. I had to keep focused on the politics I would need to play. I had to be lucid! Whatever was happening between Austin and me (I still hadn’t looked into what that meant for a female gargoyle—I was kind of afraid to find out), it had to wait until the danger passed. Until I wasn’t practicing magic constantly, constructing wards and creating potions, trying to anticipate which talents I’d need to match wits and skills with our visitor. Right now the pressure was too high for me to figure us out—I needed some room to breathe, and so did he.
His territory was coming together with Kingsley’s help, but it was clearly taxing. Kingsley said he’d never seen such a rush to join a pack, and the resulting chaos was a real thing. People were coming in droves now, having completely overrun the few towns Austin had claimed for his territory, forcing him to expand to a few more. Realtors were having a field day. Hotels, restaurants, and bars were rolling in cash. It had taken an insane amount of work in a very short time, but finally Austin said things were getting in line, just in time. His defense and the structure of his territory would somewhat be in place.
“Miss.” Mr. Tom stuck his head into my room. I sat at the table in front of the windows, the midmorning sun falling over my empty breakfast plate and bone-dry coffee mug. My stomach was tied in knots.
Today was the day. The visiting mage and his people would be arriving and settling in. It was time to be on my best behavior, and to put my best foot forward. I was representing my people and Ivy House, and I would do them proud.
We’d decided to meet him and his people at the swankiest restaurant in the county, two towns over, which Austin just happened to own, a recent acquisition. That gave us control—he’d closed it down for the night and set up his people within the grounds.
“Yes.” I stood and picked up the plate.
Mr. Tom bustled in and took it from me. “Sebastian needs you in his makeshift lab. He says it’s urgent.”
I slowly let out a breath to keep from shaking. Sebastian had been working overtime these last couple weeks, helping me prepare for what he called nice-nice warfare—everyone acting pleasant to your face, only to gouge you in the back the moment you turned around. Having played a part in previous such occasions, he had a good idea of what spells and potions they might use against me—and he’d been training me in their use and applications. It was a different kind of battle than I was used to, but he’d made it clear it was a battle all the same.
Sebastian was convinced this visiting mage was no more than training wheels. That I’d have no trouble dealing with him, what with my power, growing knowledge base, and magical crew.
He didn’t seem to understand that I had absolutely no experience when it came to mages beyond my close brushes with Elliot Graves’s people, and none of them had sat down with me for tea. I wasn’t magical at heart, and I didn’t know anything about the politics of the magical world.
“Of course.” I smoothed my sweats down my legs.
“Miss.” Mr. Tom paused in picking up the plain white mug.
“Yes?”
“You have no reason to be nervous. By allowing these miscreants into your territory, you are essentially stooping to their level. It has to be done, as these things often do, but they are lucky to bask in your presence. You are the heir of Ivy House. You are the queen of the gargoyles. You are majestic. If anyone should be nervous, it’s the mage and his ragtag crew.”