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

by K. F. Breene

  “He seems to back people down with just a look…”

  “Yeah. Take the hint.”

  She was met with silence. Clearly this mage was way out of his league when it came to shifters. That would work out badly for him if he stayed in O’Briens.

  “When he’s staring atcha,” she said, “he’s promisin’ to put ye in yer place if ye don’t mind yer manners. He’s being nice to ye right now because of Jessie. It’s the only reason he’s ever nice. Otherwise he’s a fair but hard-hearted el’ bastard, so he is. Good man but as dangerous as they come.”

  “So staring is considered a challenge?”

  “Yer not going to last long in this place, boyo, unless ye cop on.”

  He stared at the side of her head. “I’ll assume that is a yes. So if he takes it as a challenge, what happens next?”

  “Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph. Ye get a clatter, that’s what happens. Ye try to see out yer ear after he thumps ye. Look.” She turned a little so she could better see him. “Here’s a word of advice. If ye want to try yer hand against a shifter, and I don’t blame ya if ye do, pick someone else. Anyone else. Don’t start with him. Don’t even end with him. He was born an alpha, and now he’s actually trying a little. It won’t be long before he tries a lot and claims the reputation he deserves. For Jessie’s sake, stay away from him. She needs help, and ye can’t do that if Austin Steele rips ye in half.”

  “All due respect, you aren’t born an alpha any more than you’re born a mage. You are merely born with talent. It’s up to the individual to hone and shape that talent into a skill set.”

  “What are ye, a philosopher?”

  “When I have nothing better to do…yes, I suppose so.”

  She grunted again. So much for idle chitchat.

  “What made him…try a little, if I might inquire?” the mage asked.

  She took a sip, debating how much information to share about the area and the people running it. Austin Steele might not know what to make of the mage, but he didn’t seem to consider him a threat. Niamh never really tried to assess anyone, assuming everyone was an arsehole, but she had to admit that the mage didn’t annoy her. He wasn’t pushy, he wasn’t too chatty, he drank when pushed—and a drink to be proud of, at that—and he just minded his own business when no one engaged him.

  He did have a staring problem, though. He was as bad as the horny girls that filled this place, watching Austin Steele’s every move, hoping to go home with him. Only this guy wasn’t looking at Austin Steele’s arms, back, or butt. He was paying attention to the way he handled people, taking in what the alpha noticed and reacted to.

  That should’ve probably set off warning bells. It didn’t.

  “Are you using magic to alter the moods of the people around you?” she asked.

  It was her turn to get analyzed. “You don’t seem overly put out about the possibility.”

  She shrugged. “Ye’re not annoyin’ me. If it takes magic to make that a reality, then I’m not beat up about it.”

  A crooked grin worked at his lips, as though a novice puppet master were maneuvering his mouth. “What a strange place this town is. You aren’t afraid of magic controlling you.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Not afraid, no. Though that kind of thing can make a body irrational.”

  “Meaning?”

  “If you were, and I’d had enough, I’d kill you.”

  “I would expect no less. In answer to your question, no, I’m not using magic to control you. I’m using it to eavesdrop around the room, but since I can hear you just fine, the spell isn’t near you.”

  “Oh yeah?” She glanced at those flat gray eyes, his face utterly expressionless except for that strange smile. “Hear anything good?”

  “A great many ladies would like to bed the alpha.”

  “You don’t need magic to know that.”

  “Well…I do. I’m not very good at reading social cues or understanding human behavior. I’m slightly…socially awkward, we’ll say. Socially deficient, maybe.”

  “Jessie will be glad to hear it. What else?”

  “A group in the back doesn’t like the way the alpha is scheduling supervised fights to handle pack placement. Nor do they like the way he throws his weight around.”

  Niamh sniffed. “They don’t like their own inferiority.”

  “Sounds like one of them’s an alpha from another pack? I can’t be sure, but…”

  “Ah.” She nodded. “A mediocre alpha and his best and brightest. They’re more interested in fighting for dominance than in joining the pack, the maggots. Some alphas cannot stand the idea of someone being tougher or more powerful than they are. They likely take Austin Steele’s newness to the post as a sign of weakness.” She grinned. “That’ll be some show. I hope they challenge him tonight.”

  “You want them to do it?”

  “Oh yeah. When Austin Steele gets going, it really gets the blood pumping. I like watching—when it’s got nothing to do with me, o’course.”

  “I see.”

  “Nah, ye don’t. Shifters are a different breed. Though all creatures have their issues. Gargoyles are some lot, I’ll tell ye. Only thing good about them is they are mostly quiet. Except for the thorn in me arse, Mr. Tom.”

  “I’ve tried to read up on them—shifters, I mean. I’ve always been fascinated by the rift between mages and shifters, you see. And I think… I mean, I don’t know… But after seeing some of the shifters in here, I think mages must be scared of shifters. I’m scared, at least. That must be the root of the prejudice. Magic like mine does not require strength. Magic does not require courage. We are cowards, most of us. Take away our magic, and you take away our…purpose. Our…”

  “Bollocks?”

  He huffed out a laugh. “Yes, I suppose. I am physically weak. I am emotionally stunted.”

  “Christ almighty, we don’t need to get too personal—”

  “I am socially inept. All I have is my magic. If that magic fails, a shifter, even one in human form, could rip me in half.”

  “Some of them would rip you in half even with yer magic. They might be half-dead before they finish the job, but by God, they would finish it.”

  “Yes. That’s what I’m gathering. Mages have reason to be scared. A well-functioning pack led by a competent alpha would be a serious threat to my kind. They stand together, whereas mages stay solo. Even the Mages’ Guild, which is supposed to be an association of our peers—” He huffed and shook his head. “Each one of them are in it for themselves. They aren’t working as a unit; they are strategizing against each other, supporting each other only when it is clear they’ll get something out of it. They make deals that will help themselves under the guise of helping mages everywhere. The rest of us might work with other mages on things, but it’s out of necessity, and the sum total is equal to its parts. With shifters, the sum total of a pack is greater than its parts. Do you see what I mean?”

  “And here I thought you weren’t chatty.”

  He wiggled in his chair a little, the only time he’d really moved since sitting down, other than bending forward and looking aloof. “You say this town is in chaos. This is a normal magical town to me. The strong prey on the weak. The weak get out of the way. Law and order is present to some degree, but only when the powers that be feel like keeping the peace.”

  “Well. If ye hang around, you’ll see what a well-functioning town looks like. Austin Steele will sort it all out.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “You’ve heard of Momar?”

  She squinted, trying to place that name. “A powerful mage, yeah? Last I heard, he was organizing his forces to take over the crime world from Elliot Graves.”

  “Your information is outdated. He has mostly taken over the crime world. Elliot Graves has slunk into the shadows. I heard he’s doing just enough to get by. His defenses are up, so no one can get to him, but he hasn’t been pulling jobs or leading teams. He’s a has-been.”

  Niamh couldn’t hel
p but give him a funny look. That account didn’t match with what Ivy House had seen. Was someone throwing Elliot Graves’s name around to push them off the true scent of whoever had been behind the attacks?

  “No, Momar is mostly in power now,” the mage said. “He is considered the most powerful mage in the world, not because of his magic—that title still belongs to Elliot Graves, no matter how hollow it is—but because of his holdings, his money, and his magical influence.”

  “What’s yer point?”

  “He is so powerful that he should fear very little, but he hates shifters. Hates them. When he can, he destroys entire packs.”

  Niamh frowned. She’d been hibernating in this small town for far too long. She hadn’t heard any of that. Knowledge of the magical world had gotten away from her, probably because she’d been contemplating retirement before Jessie had shown up. If she stuck her head out of this little divot in the ground, she wouldn’t recognize the politics of today. That could be a dangerous situation for Jessie. With as much power as she’d inherited, she was part of the magical world, like it or not.

  Niamh needed to amend this gaping hole in her knowledge. Become the expert she used to be.

  “Why is that, then?” she asked.

  “I’ve always wondered that very thing. What if it’s all rooted in fear? Fear of their strength, of their courage and loyalty to each other. It doesn’t hurt that Momar’s father was killed by one. From what I’ve read, it sounded like Pappy Dearest got what he deserved—he’d been bleeding the town dry in taxes, forcing the hungry and desperate to rise up against his tyranny. Regardless, Momar would like to rid the world of shifters, but if he kills too many too fast, they will band together. I am starting to understand just how dangerous that would be for him.” The mage went on watching Austin Steele. “So instead, he’s been drumming up reasons to attack smaller packs. Still, it’s only a matter of time before he develops the resources to go after the larger ones.”

  “And ye think this guy will see Austin Steele as a small pack to go after?”

  “I don’t know. If the alpha is as good as you say, now would be the time to act, before he gets his feet under him. But who knows of this town? No one. I’d always thought it belonged strictly to Dicks and Janes. I was utterly confused by the summons.”

  “It mostly used to. Things are changing quickly now, though.”

  “Yes. One hopes, then, that it becomes powerful before Momar realizes the threat.”

  Niamh looked at her glass without comment. This new crime boss wouldn’t just be interested in Austin Steele—Jessie would add to the flavor. Clearly they needed to keep this area as low profile as possible for as long as possible. Keep their heads down and plod along, building strength quietly.

  She needed to mention all this to Austin Steele, and also tell him to keep an eye on this new mage. He seemed okay, but he could be influencing them with magic. Until Jessie was up to speed, there was no way to tell. If he was gathering information for someone, they could be in a world of hurt.

  Especially if his boss was Momar.

  “I am almost tickled to see how it all turns out,” the mage mumbled, as though to himself, ever mindful of Austin Steele. “If I live that long, obviously.”

  “Why wouldn’t ye?”

  “You’ve already mentioned killing me. It sounds like I don’t have great odds of leaving this town alive.”

  Niamh looked over his plain face, the button nose the only cute thing about him. His messy hair, sticking up every which way. His expressionless eyes, not the dimmest twinkle within them. “I can’t tell if yer jokin’.”

  “Neither can I. Sometimes it creates problems.”

  She lifted her eyebrows and turned back to her cider.

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” he said, as though picking up on her uncertainty about him.

  “Is that right?”

  “My life will be forfeit should my employer find out I’m here. He will assume I’m sharing information. I shouldn’t have come.”

  “Then why did you?”

  He shook his head, small movements, his eyes rooted to Austin Steele. “Pandora wasn’t the only one with curiosity. Now I’m worried I’m hooked. So whatever goes on here is safe with me.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Jessie slowed as she neared the bar, Jasper peeling off to blend in with the side of the building and Ulric already stationed at the other end. Niamh could feel Jessie’s anger—a coil ready to spring. Austin Steele stopped helping people and stepped back, his gaze on the door.

  Right now, Jessie’s anger was on a tight leash. But one wrong word from Austin Steele—one wrong word—and that leash would snap and the fireworks would ignite.

  Niamh couldn’t wait for the show.

  Seven

  Jasper blended into the building as I approached, and I caught sight of Ulric at the other end, his blue and pink hair subdued in the shadows. Mr. Tom had stayed home with Jimmy, who had decided to play video games and escape into a reality he understood. He’d done a lot of far-off staring, paired with some adamant head shaking, but I firmly believed he’d come around. I had to.

  Sasquatch stood outside of the door, his hand at his side and a cigarette trailing smoke between his fingers. He looked up as I approached, and his features pinched into a mask of distaste.

  “That was my favorite knife,” he said.

  “Then you shouldn’t have stuck it in me and stepped away, huh?”

  “I would’ve taken it back if you hadn’t used your magic.”

  “God you’re dumb.” I shook my head, anger pulsing within me. “Austin has your knife. Ask him for it. Though how a rusty knife could be your favorite, I do not know.”

  “It wasn’t that rusty.”

  I pushed past him and then stopped, sticking out a finger. His flinch buoyed my mood a little.

  “You know what? I want you to keep playing that game with me. I’ll make sure you get your knife back. If you catch me, fine. Stab me. But if you can’t, and I catch you instead, I’ll be the one stabbing you.”

  His eyebrows lowered. “You’re going to be in a world of hurt. You’re terrible at your magic.”

  “I’m terrible at my magic? What, did you throw yourself at the wall earlier? Is that why you whined to Austin about me?”

  His eyes narrowed. I stared him down, waiting for a rebuttal, but he just turned away, pulling a long drag off his cigarette as he left.

  Ha! Point to me.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I entered the crowded bar, standing room only. I recognized a few faces, but no one nodded to me as I passed. They seemed almost…nervous. Schooling my expression, trying to wipe off any residual anger or frustration, I threaded my way through the crowd. Despite the vibes I was apparently giving out, I wasn’t here to talk smack to Austin, and I definitely didn’t intend to yell at him in front of all of his customers. I would do that in the privacy of Ivy House property, thank you very much.

  I was here to see about a mage.

  The crowd parted as I walked through. Puzzled strangers or wary regulars shifted out of my way, giving me a view of the bar. Austin stood behind it with a wide stance, popping muscles. His hard expression indicated he was preparing for battle.

  I glanced around, getting the sense that my bad mood wasn’t the only trouble brewing. A quick blast of magic helped me find the source: a table at the far back corner of the main room, against the wall that led to the pool room and bathrooms. I couldn’t see any faces through the crowd, only a glimpse of a red cotton-clad elbow, but I felt dark energy radiating from the people sitting there, like oil slicking across water.

  Niamh sat in her usual spot, the support beam at her left and a little removed, preventing anyone from sitting too closely on that side. Her fingers curled around her glass, the ice cubes jockeying for position within the fizzy amber liquid.

  Sebastian twisted in his seat beside her. I thought he’d look at me, but instead his
eyes did loop-de-loops, tracing something through the air. His fingers wiggled in a way that suggested he was doing magic, but I couldn’t see or feel it. He was way more experienced than me. More powerful, too.

  “Hey,” I said softly, stopping behind them, my hand coming to rest on the back of Niamh’s chair. The bar chatter, which had quieted down when I first walked in, now cut off entirely, as though the room was holding its collective breath. “Did I get here at a bad time—”

  “Jess.” Austin stopped in front of me, his stare beating into me like a palpable pressure. His power pulsed and slammed into me, turning my blood to gravy. His commanding presence, his air of dominance, pressed down on my chest. On my shoulders. It seemed to say, Submit, or I will make you submit.

  Like a spark igniting deep within me, anger flowered up and blossomed out, covering me in shivers, shrugging off his imposing power.

  “You good?” His words were clipped, tone rough.

  My fingers tightened on Niamh’s chair. “Is that how you greet a friend?”

  His jaw clenched. He didn’t move. He just stared me down like I was a stranger causing a ruckus.

  His silence punched straight through my middle.

  Anger rushed in to drown out the hurt. Red tinged my vision.

  “Bros before hoes, is that it?” I asked, my anger blazing brighter and hotter, my pain lodged firmly in my throat. “Don’t you know how I’m doing? My block has nothing to do with your side of the link, so aren’t you well aware of what I’m feeling?”

  His flinch was so slight that I almost thought I’d imagined it. But I ripped away the block on the link, and guilt gushed through it.

  Unlike Mr. Tom and Niamh, Austin felt bad for what he’d been doing. He’d known it was wrong. He’d known he was violating my trust.

  My eyes stung and my magic ballooned around me, my control wobbling—my heart aching and my rage compensating.