Magical Midlife Invasion

by Breene, K. F.

  A soft rap came at the door. Mr. Tom was not usually in the habit of knocking, but having guests in the house had apparently changed all his habits.

  I made a move to climb off Austin’s lap, but instead he stood and deposited me on my feet. He ran his hands down the outsides of my arms. “You good?”

  I laid a hand on his chest, his heart beating against my palm. “Yeah. Thanks. You always know what to say.”

  “The truth. All I ever say is the truth. You’re exceptional, Jacinta, and not because of the magic. Not because of this house or your crew. Definitely not because of me. You are a shooting star in a dark sky.”

  My vision swam and my lip trembled. I nodded mutely.

  When he stepped back, his movements were rigid, like he was forcing himself to do it. He hated people in turmoil. The alpha in him clearly felt the need to soothe me.

  I took a deep breath. It was time to pick myself up, dust myself off, and solve the problem—and the only way to do that was to act. I had all the tools; I just needed to use them.

  “Come in,” I called, returning to my chair as Austin sat down in his.

  “Yes, miss. Here we go.” Mr. Tom carried in a silver tray laden with sandwiches, cut veggies, chips, and fruit. “If you want anything else, just let me know.” He placed the platter on a small round table in the corner. “To drink…” He ducked out into the hall and brought back a bottle of sparkling wine in a silver ice bucket, followed by a pitcher of sweet tea. “We also have a troubling amount of cheap American beer, should you want that. Or hard alcohol, if quickly numbing the pain is the order of the day.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Tom, you’ve outdone yourself.”

  He preened and shut the door behind him on his way out. After Austin and I made ourselves plates, I stared out the window in contemplation as I ate.

  “No one thinks of danger when they see a deer,” I said, thinking out loud. “Granted, this deer was glowing, which was disarming, but if the spell hadn’t worked, we might have just thought a weirdly large deer was roaming around the woods. Either way, glowing or not, it’s not the kind of creature that makes you think violent thoughts.”

  “It is certainly a benign creature. A deer wouldn’t be used for much in the magical world. I doubt the shifter has battle experience or fighting prowess. It wouldn’t have much status. From that we can assume, the shifter is considered expendable. It’s being sent here to test the potions, and to get a good look at the goings-on of the house while it does so.”

  “The deer didn’t come very close to the house. It stopped at the edge of the wood, and then kept its distance while it worked around to the side yard. It also didn’t eat as many flowers as it wanted to, I could tell. If Edgar hadn’t expanded the configuration of flowers to reach into the woods, I bet it wouldn’t have been tempted into trying a couple. We wouldn’t have known it was around.”

  “Edgar made a big deal about how addictive his flowers were.” He shook his head, looking out the window again. “I hesitate to agree with him. If I do, it feels like I’m walking the very dangerous path that led him where he is now. Coo-coo.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “I absolutely know what you mean. I’ve been there a few times.”

  Austin put his feet up and entwined his fingers again, leaning back on the headrest. “This room has a comfortable vibe. The view is nice, too, in a Monet sort of way, with the random splotches of color. Edgar is nuts, but he does know how to grow plants.”

  “He cheats.”

  “He’s…dutiful and goes the extra mile.”

  “Cheat to win, in other words.”

  “Exactly so.” A smile curled his lips. “Your father might have a point about the tracks. We’re going to make sure the area’s wet enough for them this evening, just so we know it’s the potion working and not light feet on hard-packed dirt.” His eyes came to rest on me. “I think you should move the tripwire to the grass so you’ll only be alerted if the deer comes close enough to be a threat. You need to get some sleep tonight. There’s nothing we can do right now but wait. We need to see what Agnes’s network comes up with, or if we’re lucky, Edgar will find answers first.”

  “All before Elliot decides the potion is a success and brings a host of his people through my property.”

  “You’re positive that deer seemed spooked by the lurker in the front yard?” Austin asked.

  I thought back, remembering how it had darted away. “Spooked for a deer. No idea for a shifter.”

  He thought for a moment. “There is a chance the prowler was working with the deer shifter, wondering why he was taking so long, but it wouldn’t make sense for the shifter to head off in a different direction. It doesn’t seem likely that they’re on the same team.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “Why would two people attack at once? Two prowlers on the same night? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “It does in the magical world. I mostly stopped paying attention to the greater goings-on since I left my brother’s pack, and I haven’t had a chance to update my knowledge since I stepped up to alpha, but motives and politics never really change that much. Elliot Graves does not work with people because he is not the type to share. His suppliers are his suppliers alone. His contracted employees only work for him. So when he decided early on to go after you—coming even before you’d accepted the magic—he was declaring his intent to secure you for his interests. He will not suffer anyone else moving in and possibly getting lucky and grabbing you. He’ll fight to get what he wants. Most magical people would. Hell, most Dicks and Janes would, too—they just don’t jump to violence as quickly as people in the magical world do.”

  “I thought he was a big deal in the magical world. Why would someone else move into his proposed territory and risk facing his wrath?”

  Austin smiled without humor. “There are many big deals in the magical world, and everyone is looking for an edge. If Elliot Graves wants a thing, and if that thing is still technically up for grabs, then others will try to get it, either for their own benefit or to barter with Elliot Graves. It sounds like the secret is out about you.”

  I blew out a breath. “Great.”

  “We have some time. My smell is all over that deer’s trail, and all over the neighbor’s yards. No one will want to tango with me. The two groups will stay cautious for a few days, the shifter probably making some shallow runs into the property to see if he can get away with it, and the front yard prowler inching closer to see if we notice. If I don’t come after them, which I purposely won’t, even though the thought of letting an intruder into this territory…” His jaw clenched, his gaze still fixed out the window. “If they get no opposition, they’ll show near the house again for a test run. That is when the timer will start to count down.”

  “How can you be sure? What if the deer or prowler tells his or their bosses we’re onto him and the boss rushes in?”

  “A lesser boss might, but I don’t think we’re dealing with someone like that. If the person behind this isn’t Elliot, it’s a very wealthy mage. Those potions would be incredibly expensive, like Agnes’s people said, and the shifter would need one of each per night, for however many nights. Someone with that kind of money is a major player in the magical world, and major players use strategy. They’re smart. Which fits with what we’re seeing. Last night granted us a few days. And until we have more information, we are dead in the water. You need to rest, take it easy, and conserve your energy until you have a way to act.”

  “That easy, huh?”

  His gaze felt heavy on me. “I’ll stay in Ivy House with you, if that’s okay. I’ll take the room next to yours. I won’t let anything get to you, Jacinta. I will guard you when you sleep, so that you can sleep.”

  Tears welled in my eyes again and I looked away. Throat tight, I didn’t trust myself to speak. All I could do was nod. Austin Steele, Sir Knight.

  “What’s your real last name?” I asked, my voice a whisper, not sure whether I was crossing some sort of boundary. I k
new the town had chosen the last name Steele for him, but he’d never mentioned what it was instead of.

  He was quiet for a beat. “Barraza. I left it behind when I left my pack, which is the custom for an alpha’s siblings, who usually leave to head up a different pack or form a new one. Alphas earn their names, given to them by the pack they create or taken by force from an established pack leader. My brother took the name from my mother, who handled the pack before him.”

  “Your brother forcefully took the pack from your mom?”

  “Yes, but the fight wasn’t to the death. She was aging and he was ready. She made him work for it, but when it was clear he was dominant, she acquiesced. Normally old pack leaders are banished, but not always. My mother gracefully stepped aside, and my brother brought her onto his team of advisors. It was a seamless transition that exemplifies their strength in leadership. I’m the black sheep of the family.”

  “You just had a longer path. A harder path. You’ll come out better for it. You’ll do them proud, Austin, if you haven’t already.”

  He looked at me for a long time before giving me a slight nod and looking away. I could tell he didn’t really believe it, and my heart broke a little for him. He’d prove himself, though, of that I had no doubt. He might not trust himself because of his past, but I knew him as well as anyone, maybe better. I’d seen him lose control, I’d seen him do battle, and I’d watched him work with townspeople every day, with my people, showing them the patience of a saint. Giving them a helping hand and a place to belong. Protecting them. Protecting me. He’d walked a hard road, but he hadn’t allowed it to turn him brittle. To break him. I hadn’t seen the start of the journey, but I knew the end, and he was the best man I’d ever known.

  I said as much.

  He took a deep breath. “When you say things like that, I wonder what guy you’re seeing.”

  “The one sitting in front of me.”

  “Hard to believe.”

  “Only if you’re thick, like Niamh would say.”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  “Yeah, but those were probably true.”

  His lips curled at the ends.

  “So you really did leave everything behind when you left, including your name,” I said.

  “Well, not everything. I kept the money.”

  I spat out laughter, his comment surprising me. “Right.”

  “I wasn’t totally desolate.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little nest egg. If you got stuck, you could just buy a winery.” I wiped my mouth, feeling a lot lighter than when I’d come in earlier. “We’re similar, in a way. I left everything behind, too. I’m not the girl who married Matt. He gave me a nametag when I signed into his life. It’s a nametag for a different person. I’m not an Evans anymore. When I walked away from that life, I left parts of myself behind. I shed my old skin. But I’m not a McMillian anymore either. I’ve developed—or maybe devolved—into a completely new person. Maybe I should come up with a new name, too.”

  “Or maybe just stick to one name, like Adele or Cher. Or, I know, create a title for yourself. Jacinta the Merciful, Decider of Fates, Ruiner of All Things Tedious.”

  I laughed. “That’s a little long. What would the sign say in front of my placemat at weddings?”

  “Oh…” He waved his finger around at the house at large. “No one you know around here is ever going to get married. They’ve missed that bus.”

  I frowned at him. “There is someone for everyone. Somewhere out there, there’s a grumpy woman who is impossible to please, waiting for her knight in shining armor to sweep her off her feet.” I tapped my chin. “I better give Mr. Tom some days off so he can go find her.”

  Austin shook with laughter. “You just described Niamh.” He started to sing, his voice smooth and incredibly pleasing. “Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a dream…”

  I widened my eyes. “Wow. You have a really good voice. Like…really good.”

  His cheeks colored and he looked away, adorably embarrassed.

  “Do you dance, too?” I asked, leaning forward and bracing my elbow on my knee before resting my chin on my fist.

  “Maybe.”

  “Oh my goodness, and the hot guy gets hotter.” I sat back and fanned my face. “What other tricks do you have up your sleeve?”

  “I have a horrible temper.”

  “Nah, no you don’t. A rage problem when something sets you off, sure, but you’re slow to anger. Do you play an instrument?”

  “Guitar.”

  I rolled my eyes. “A guitar? Jesus, Austin, you’re a cliché. What else? Fast car?”

  “The Jeep isn’t very fast.”

  “Yes, true. Strike against you.”

  “The Bugatti isn’t so bad, though.”

  “That’s a shame… Wait. A Bugatti?” I cocked my head. “Do you really have a Bugatti?”

  He laughed and wiped his hand across his face. “I did. Left it behind. I came here on four paws. I got the Jeep here in town. I do miss going recklessly fast, though.”

  “Damarion bought a Lexus when he was here,” I said. “He went recklessly fast. I didn’t love it.”

  “First, recklessly fast in the right hands isn’t scary, it is exhilarating. I would make you squeal in delight. Second, do not mention that man’s name when it relates to you and dating or intimacy.”

  I froze, my mouth open to speak, but a rush of excitement flooded my body, and the words drifted away. He’d said the first in a playful, teasing way. His tone had changed at the end, shifting into something rough and intense and possessive, as though the aforementioned rage was bubbling to the surface, beyond his control.

  Something dangerous kindled within his stare, trapping me to my seat, holding me there. I could barely breathe as fire moved through my veins, coiling within me, aching down low. My heart raced as the memory of his touch, of his lips whispering across my skin.

  Someone who didn’t belong walked into my woods.

  I sat forward, responding to the trespasser. Or was I responding to Austin?

  The heat in his eyes consumed me, made my thoughts hazy. Electricity crackled through the air around us. He pulled his feet down from the ottoman, slowly, purposefully, bracing them wide and leaning his elbows against his knees, a predatory look in his eyes.

  My body would not move, caught in his stare, in his intense focus—nervous for reasons I didn’t understand, excited for the same reasons. A crease formed between his brows, as though he was wrestling with his thoughts.

  The stranger on the property came into sharper focus. The timing was terrible. I didn’t want this moment interrupted.

  I needed this moment interrupted.

  Thirteen

  “Miss!” Mr. Tom pushed open the door. “Miss. Your parents are farting around the garden. Your dad found a used wine barrel on the side of the road with a ‘free’ sign and, after rolling it all the way home, is now trying to decorate the garden with it.”

  “Not now, Mr. Tom,” I said, needing the lifeline he was offering but not wanting to take it. The fresh air would surely clear my head, but sitting in these close quarters with Austin, I wanted nothing more than to lock us in and throw away the key.

  “Yes, miss, I can see you’re winning a stare-off with Austin Steele, and let me tell you, that is an outstanding accomplishment, but I cannot get them to go back inside, and the basajaun is making haste toward the garden. His disguises aren’t good. You need to get your parents into the house before he shows up, or your magical cover will surely be blown.”

  The crease between Austin’s brows deepened. His eyes flicked toward Mr. Tom, as though he was just now starting to comprehend the words.

  “You might need to slap me, Mr. Tom. My mind is rolling down the gutter,” I said.

  “Of course, miss—”

  “If you lift a hand to her, Earl,” Austin growled, “I will rip it off and beat you with it.”

  “Ah. You do make a compelling argument, Mr. Steele.”
/>
  I shook myself out of my stupor, feeling a strange mix of regret and gratitude, wishing the moment could go on forever, and also that Mr. Tom had interrupted us ten minutes sooner.

  The basajaun was moving fast, loping through the wood, straight for the backyard. If he got there and ate all of Edgar’s flowers, I’d never hear the end of it. That outcome would be so much worse than my parents seeing Bigfoot.

  “When it rains, it pours.” I hurried out of the house and to the back door, finding my parents doing exactly what Mr. Tom had described, positioning an old, multicolored, stained, and badly weathered wine barrel next to the gorgeous cherry tree getting ready to bloom. The contrast of ugly and beautiful had never been so stark. Niamh stood off to the side, watching, looking bemused.

  “What’s… What’d you find?” I asked, out of breath from my run and the situation I’d left behind in my private sitting room. I put my hands on my hips, trying to play it cool while monitoring the basajaun’s progress through the trees.

  “Your father found another free thing,” my mom said, wrestling herself up under the tree. “He just can’t leave them alone.”

  “Why would someone throw this away?” My dad hiked up his retreating pants, the belt not quite doing the trick. “Look at it. It’s perfectly good. You’d have to pay fifty or a hundred dollars for this in a store.”

  “It’s super weathered, dad,” I said. “It’s been sitting in someone else’s yard, clearly, and they’ve realized it has outlived its glory days. It’s a wreck.”

  “Well, if that isn’t a commentary on this house, I don’t know what is,” Niamh murmured.

  “Nah, it’ll be fine.” My dad tried to wipe away a dark stain that did not plan on going anywhere. “You can just sand it down, stain it, and there you go. It’ll look really good. Too bad we didn’t bring the truck, or I would take it home. Maybe if we go look around in the streets, we can find another one.”

  The basajaun was a hundred yards out. Time to make a move.