Magical Midlife Love: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Leveling Up Book 4)

by K. F. Breene

  I widened my eyes at him, back to gripping his flaring shoulders while he pressed against my wound. “But Sasquatch said…”

  “Ryan just doesn’t seem to learn his lesson.”

  I tapped his hands. “I’m good now. Thank you.”

  He slowly pulled his hands away, not seeming to notice the flare of crimson staining his palm. “I don’t like this game, by the way,” he said, a growl working into his words. “I don’t like you placidly allowing people to hurt you. If they hit wrong, they could kill you before you could do damage control.”

  “I have Jasper pick people because he’s a good judge of character. He usually picks more trustworthy people, though. He either didn’t know that Sasquatch and me—”

  “He knew. He’s trying to push you, I think.”

  “Ah.” I frowned down the street, noticing Jasper lounging against the wall, easily blending into the building behind him, utterly invisible to everyone except for me because I could see through a gargoyle’s glamor-like magic. Magic I could not figure out how to apply to myself.

  “It’s not working.” Austin turned before gently placing his hand on the small of my back, guiding me down the street. He scooped up the knife as we went. “I know I said I’d defer to your judgment of what you can handle, but with all due respect, just because you can handle it, doesn’t mean you should.”

  I sighed with frustration. “I keep hoping it’ll work.”

  A man walked toward us with effortless grace and hard gray eyes. Shifter. “Alpha,” he said as he approached, stepping into the street and offering a slight bow. “Miss.”

  “Damn that Mr. Tom,” I grumbled, Austin ignoring the man completely. It was apparently an alpha custom to ignore greetings from townspeople and pack members. “He keeps convincing people to call me miss instead of just letting them call me by my name.”

  “He wants you to have some semblance of a title. It isn’t a terrible idea.”

  “Don’t you start. Turning this town into a big shifter pack is your thing. You need the title; I don’t. I’m just a home owner.”

  “The owner of the most powerful magical home in the world, with the ability to create your own army if you so choose.”

  “Okay, okay, let’s settle down. No more reading up on the history of Ivy House and its heirs. This is modern times—if I created an army, I’d have the government swooping in, thinking I was a terrorist. Besides, I’m not trying to form some magical empire. I just want to defend my home.” I smoothed my hair back, lowering my brows at him. We slowed to a stop on the corner. “You know what I meant, though. No more asking Edgar about the history of the house. It’s giving you crazy ideas.”

  He looked away. “I ask Edgar because I need to know the ins and outs of what I am guarding.”

  “You don’t. I do.” I looked off toward the house crouching in its wood, not visible from the town’s hub. “There’s a list of vulnerabilities I don’t understand and don’t have the knowledge or magic to work out.”

  “No sign of anyone to fill that summons?”

  I’d sent out a magical summons, asking for a mage who could help me. Over a dozen had shown up, trickling in with their swagger and egos. One practice session, though, and each and every one of them had been fired or quit. None of them had been powerful enough to work with me.

  Most of the mages had assumed (wrongly) that I would know some of the basics of spell casting, based on my age alone. I’d changed their perception quickly.

  I’d nearly blown off a mansplainer’s head by accident. He’d stopped ’splaining real quick and got the hell out of there. I’d almost killed another, thankfully able to patch him up before all of his blood leaked out. He’d accused me of tricking him…while sobbing. A woman had admitted she wasn’t the right fit after losing half of her robe to a spell gone wrong.

  My power blindsided them, one and all. My complete lack of knowledge widened their eyes. My haywire spells sent them running.

  I’d had to devise a test to weed out the duds.

  I’d rigged up a spell to send applicants to Agnes’s shop. Once there, she’d instruct them on how to create the spell capable of hiding them from Ivy House’s detection. The challenge was to ingest the spell, mosey onto my property, and knock on the door. Simple as that.

  Many had tried. All had failed.

  “Nope,” I said, dabbing at the garnet stain ruining my shirt. I probably should’ve worn black today. I’d really thought I’d get it this time, though. I’d hoped to show everyone my clean white shirt with a triumphant smile. “Five came last week. I doubt they’re even from the summons anymore. I think word has gotten out that there’s an open mage position and people are just showing up to apply. Three of them were able to make the potion, but not well enough to mask their heat signatures from Ivy House. She booted them off the property with the new trap Edgar installed.”

  Austin shook his head slightly. “You guys and that house…”

  “We’re not normal, I know.”

  “No, you are not. Effective, but not normal.” He paused for a moment. “Yes, it’s probably word of mouth at this point, which is why only the lesser mages are coming to apply. More established mages might’ve ignored the summons entirely, if they’re happy where they are.” Austin’s upper body tightened up, his pecs popping through his shirt as his biceps strained the white cotton, flexing so as to prevent himself from releasing tension through a physical tic, like running his fingers through his hair. He’d had to make some changes since assuming the alpha role.

  “What did you want to do that you can’t do anymore?” I teased.

  His gaze zipped to me and then away. His lips quirked, but he gritted his teeth again, his face in hard lines that somehow didn’t detract from his handsomeness. “It’s not that I can’t anymore. It’s that you loosen me up too much and I forget my place.”

  “Your place… At the top?”

  His gaze connected with mine, this time digging in, primal and dominant. A zip of excitement tore through me, and I felt loose and tight at the same time. A feeling, I fully realized, that was not the way a person was supposed to feel with a friend.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “And why can’t you smile and…tuck your fingers into your belt?”

  “I wasn’t going to tuck my fingers into my belt, and it’s because I have a reputation to uphold.”

  “The reputation of a grumpy guy who wants to…scratch his chest?”

  “The reputation of a hardass who won’t stand for anyone stepping out of line. If you show weakness as a dominant figure, someone will prey on it. And no, I did not want to scratch my chest.”

  “How is smiling or…running your fingers through your hair…?”

  His eyes crinkled. “Caught me.”

  I laughed. “How is that a sign of weakness? I don’t get it. People who allow themselves to feel and show emotion are not weak. They’re stronger, actually.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know why, but when an alpha is too nice, too easy, too expressive…he or she gets an increased number of challenges. People see me loosening up as a green light for them to do the same, and for violent people, that often takes the form of challenges and rowdy behavior.”

  “It means more work for you, basically.”

  “Exactly, yes.”

  “So you’ll never smile again?”

  Even though he must’ve known I was teasing, his expression turned uncomfortable and he shifted his body weight away from me. Looking toward the opposite side of the street, he said, “There are a few exceptions.”

  “Like…?” I rolled my hand in the air, not sure why he was forcing me to drag information out of him today. Of course, it had been a month and a half since we’d had a normal conversation, minus the rest of my demented Ivy House crew. Clearly he’d forgotten how.

  He shifted his weight again, antsy to go. “Like when he’s in private with those closest to him.”

  “But not in public?”

  He paus
ed for a beat. “In public, people only give exception to an alpha when he’s with his mate or his offspring.”

  “Well, at least that’s something. It would be hard to date if you couldn’t laugh at your date’s jokes.”

  “No.” His tone was hard. “Not a date, a mate. It’s a magical bond that manifests physically, similar to the magical link we have from Ivy House but much deeper. More primal. It changes a man. It makes him less reasonable. Less logical.” The full weight of his focus came back to me, punching through my humor and lightness like a steel mace. “People forgive an alpha for smiling with his mate or offspring because they know if they do anything that might harm them, even indirectly, the alpha will lose his mind and end the threat with unspeakable force. He will protect his own with everything in him. The smallest slight can turn into a bloodbath. It is safest for all to give an alpha leeway when he is with his mate or children.”

  I blinked, my eyes wide, his tone and bearing hostile and haunted.

  “That woman from your past…she was your mate?”

  “No. I thought she would be, at one time. The reason I acted out back then was because I was young and dumb and full of…” He stopped himself. “Even without that bond, though, I was a menace to society. Even without it, I put people in the hospital and nearly killed my brother. What do you think might’ve happened if she’d been my mate?”

  I nodded slowly, watching him, aching for him. I could feel his pain through the magical link we shared. I tended to unblock it these days when talking to him, needing to feel his emotions to gauge what was behind that hard, expressionless mask.

  “Gotcha,” I said softly. “I’ll be careful not to badger you into smiling in public. I assume it’s fine on Ivy House soil, since that’s not your territory?”

  He watched me silently for a beat. His emotions flicked from one to the next so fast that they were just a jumble of uncomfortable. He finally nodded.

  “Well, there you go, then. You just have to stay for a moment after training one of these days. I’ll get Mr. Tom to tell you some jokes. He’s got a few zingers. Of course, he doesn’t realize they are jokes. Since he’s the punch line and all.”

  He swore under his breath and looked away. “It’s a lesson in self-restraint speaking with you. Anyway, listen, no biggie, but—” His muscles popped again and his jaw clenched.

  I laughed and pointed at him accusingly. “Thumbs in belt loops!”

  “Hands in pockets. I did actually want to talk to you about the winery. Mr. Tom sent through the check. He said you’d approved the expense. You still need to actually sign the paperwork. My lawyer is putting that together now. We’ll be partners, fifty-fifty. Is that still good?”

  I swallowed. “Yeah, good. Sounds good. My son is coming for a couple days, but outside of that, I’m free…”

  While I was glad he hadn’t decided to back out after all, and supremely excited about Jimmy’s visit, I felt weighed down by the memory of the house financial ledger splayed in front of me in the office. I’d never seen such large numbers in my life, and I was the one responsible for the estate. Which was fine—beyond fine—except the generous gift came with an unexpected commitment, something no one had thought to mention to me when they’d explained about the whole magic thing.

  I’d finished mastering the first spell book Ivy House had provided for my training, and although we still had a ways to go in Book Two, it was time for me to claim the full gamut of my magic, apparently. But before that final burst of power was unleashed, I needed to give a blood oath—a blood oath!—to protect the house and the people in my circle. To officially become their protector and provider. To become a leader, like Austin was for his pack.

  Once I made that oath, I’d be stuck in this position forever. Forever. There would be no divorce court to get me out of this one. No do-overs. I would literally be the heir of Ivy House until I died, and it would almost certainly be a bloody death.

  Because one of the supposed upsides of the blood oath was that I (and my crew) would get to live forever. Given I was one of many heirs, it wasn’t a leap in logic to realize my predecessors had all been killed, and that the same bloody fate was in store for me one day.

  If I took the oath.

  Three

  “How’d you get your son to come?” Austin asked, back to facing me again, bent a little to study my face.

  I closed down the link between us so he wouldn’t feel my churning emotions. He might want to talk about things. I most certainly did not.

  “Easter break is coming up. He broke up with his girlfriend, so he’s free.” I rolled my eyes, but a grin broke through. I missed the little goblin terribly. Horribly! “I also think he got some pressure from his dad to come home. He’s not really excited about meeting the new stepmom.”

  “Oh. Did your ex get remarried?”

  I pulled up my shirt to check my blood-crusted skin. A small pink spot of crinkled skin was all that was left of the stab wound.

  “No, but you know what I mean. The girlfriend. They’re living together, so it’s probably only a matter of time.”

  “Does that…hurt you?”

  I furrowed my brow, looking at him, then scoffed at his expressionless face. “Do you think it should? This stoic thing you’ve got going on is annoying. I can’t read you anymore.” I tapped into the magical link again, feeling more confusion. Laughter burbled out of me. “No, it doesn’t hurt me. Honestly, I don’t really care one way or the other. I want him to be happy, and I hope he wants me to be happy. He and I didn’t work out, and that’s okay. I sincerely hope she’s cool, because my son will be the one who suffers if not.”

  Austin nodded. “It’s just that a lot of divorces end badly. There are hard feelings on one side or the other.”

  “I mean, we’re not friends or anything. But I don’t see the point in being bitter. I wouldn’t change my past, and I’m happy where I’ve ended up. Mostly. Except for some…official house issues.” I pushed away thoughts of that damned office and what was expected of me. “It took some hard times and some heartbreak, but that’s life. The hard times make us appreciate the good times.”

  His focus was intense, his eyes rooted to mine, his body frozen.

  “What?” I asked, suddenly uncomfortable. “Have I turned into one of those annoying life is sublime people or something? Too chirpy?”

  A small smile flirted with his lips, and for once, he didn’t dampen it. “I continually look up to you, Jacinta. It feels like I never really learned the rules of being an adult, and you’re teaching them to me, one by one.”

  “Good Lord, Austin, you’re in trouble if you’re getting life tips from me.”

  I gestured in the direction of Ivy House, silently asking if he would walk with me. For a moment, I thought he was going to say no—he glanced in the direction of the bar, indecision on his face—but finally he stepped forward.

  “I’m a mess,” I said, falling in step with him. “You know I’m a mess. You’re the one that always builds me up when I’m wallowing.”

  He shook his head, glancing to his left, where Jasper shadowed us on the other side of the street.

  “You can smell him from way over there?” I asked.

  “Just barely. I can…sense him. That gargoyle can inflict some serious damage. I don’t need to see or smell him to know he’s there.”

  “Like a sixth sense? Women’s intuition type of thing?”

  “Exactly, yes. All animals and people have the innate, primal ability to sense danger. It’s built into us. Women have to listen to it more than men because you are so often prey. Shifters are more in touch with their primal sides in general, so we pay attention to it. The best of us have cultivated the sense into a defensive measure.”

  “I don’t need to ask if you rank yourself as one of the best.”

  “No, you don’t. You already know that I am.”

  I shook my head. He wasn’t putting on airs—he was stating a fact.

  Something occurred
to me. “Damn it. I bet Sasquatch smelled or felt me. That’s how he knew I was there.”

  “No, he saw you. The whole street saw you.”

  “No one on the other side of the street looked at me,” I argued. “Usually your people acknowledge my presence.”

  “They knew you were playing the game, though I really can’t have people stabbing you in public, Jess. More magical people have moved into the area, but there are still a lot of Dicks and Janes. That’s not something they should see. Please remember that in future. But anyway, my people were giving you space. It’s not polite to point out someone’s failures.”

  “Well.” I huffed. “Maybe they could have acknowledged me so I’d know my magic wasn’t working.”

  “That’d be cheating.”

  “You’re quickly becoming my least favorite person.”

  He barked out a laugh before wrestling his features back into submission.

  I smiled as I watched. “You’re going to have to beat up, like, five people after that outburst.”

  His lips tweaked before settling. “Probably.”

  I sighed, taking in the lovely late March day, the sun warm on my face and a cool, floral-scented breeze tickling my skin. “I’m out of my mind excited for my son to get here, but I’m trying to calm down. Just because of how it went with my parents, you know?”

  “Are you going to tell him you’re magical?”

  “Yes. As soon as I get up my nerve. I won’t be able to hide it, so I might as well… just hope he accepts it. I’m not allowing myself to worry that he’ll…” I shook my head, not even voicing the thought. “He’s always been a good kid and a mama’s boy. Let’s hope that’s enough to keep him from…” I shook my head again, fear worming through me before I could shove it away.

  “It’ll go well.” Austin rubbed my back as we walked. “Your parents were a tough situation, and that ended up just fine, even if they did assume you were the head of a cult.”

  I chuckled, comforted by the warmth seeping through his touch.