by K. F. Breene
I was more nervous to wear this dress in public than I was to meet another potential romantic interest.
“You are a sexy, independent woman, Jacinta,” I told the woman in the mirror. All dolled up like this, I hardly recognized her. “You look better than you have in years. You feel better than you have in years. Freer. Austin said he’ll be around in case danger shows up. All you have to do is—”
A stranger touched down on the front walkway, followed by another. The visitors walked up the path slowly, their presence throbbing through my middle. This wasn’t the danger I still felt coming, working its way to the house from afar. This was the result of the first summons, I knew. These people were answering my first call for help, the one I hadn’t put any requirements on before sending out.
Without another thought, I put on a pair of thick-heeled strappy sandals so I wouldn’t wobble (hopefully) and made my way down to the first floor. Mr. Tom stood in the doorway to one of the sitting rooms, his hand on the frame, looking at the front door.
“Can you see anything through the window?” Niamh asked from inside the sitting room.
“Quiet, woman,” Mr. Tom hissed.
“Quiet? You’re supposed to be using your eyes, not yer ears, ya muppet.”
“Someone should get Jess,” I heard Austin say. Relief washed over me—he hadn’t gone back to the bar yet. He would help.
“She’s here.” Mr. Tom watched me finish descending as the two pairs of feet stepped up onto the porch.
The metal of the door knocker struck wood. The dull thunk reverberated through the space, quaking the very marrow of the house. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, seeing a shadow fall over the sheer curtain covering the window beside the door. Bright tangerine light coated the porch, pushing back the darkness.
“How am I handling this?” I asked Mr. Tom, my hand on the railing.
“Goodness, miss, you look lovely. Excellent choice of dress for the occasion. You look just like the queen you are, ready to greet your new loyal subjects.”
“Janey Mack, what is he on about now?” Niamh said. “Loyal subjects? She’s going on a date, Earl, not retiring to her throne room.”
“That is gargoyle magic at the door, I can sense it,” Mr. Tom said haughtily, “and now she is the queen of our kind. You’d understand what I meant if any of your kind could stand joining your army of one.”
“There aren’t many of my kind, ye know that. Most of them have been killed off. The ones that are left are always on the whiskey. Mad as hatters. Horrible to be around.”
“Yes, your kind typically are.” Mr. Tom paused as the knocker struck again.
Austin appeared beside Mr. Tom, his mouth open to speak. But his gaze found me, and no words came out. He froze.
My stupid face flamed again.
“Earl, answer the door,” Niamh called. “Jessie, come in here with me. Let them ask for you.”
Austin’s gaze flicked up to my eyes, down again, and then back up. For the first time, I caught a little flush on his cheeks. His eyes stopped moving, as though he were focusing with everything he had on maintaining eye contact.
When he finally spoke, his voice was slow and deep and rough. “You are a showstopper, Jacinta. Stunning.”
My stomach flipped and I smiled, relief washing through me. I moved in their direction, motioning Mr. Tom to the door.
He smoothed his tuxedo jacket and fluttered his wings. “This would be much more impressive if I were of a proper age and had a lovely thick, black, full head of hair, but beggars can’t be choosers…” But the side-eye he gave me suggested otherwise.
“Well ye’ve certainly got an ear fulla hair, will that do?” Niamh called.
I smoothed my hands down my sides. “You don’t think it’s too much?” I asked Austin. “Or too revealing?”
“Not at all. It’s perfect. You look absolutely beautiful.” Austin turned and put out his arm for me to take, ready to escort me into the sitting room.
Niamh sat in a recliner with a beer in hand and her feet up. Edgar stood at the back, having showered and put on fresh white sweats with two mustard-colored stains near his collar. I really needed to have a word with Mr. Tom about changing the color of the sweats. White clearly was not working for the vampire. Mr. Tom was getting pissy about all the trips to the store for bleach and had slacked off. The result was not ideal.
Niamh whistled. “Well, look at ye. You shine up like a new penny, so you do. You look absolutely deadly. Fair play to ya.”
Edgar smiled, his extended canines making the expression ghastly. “Very pretty, Jessie. You’ll knock ’em dead.”
Austin stopped next to a love seat and flared his arm, releasing me. I sat down with what I knew was a goofy expression, but it felt nice to be treated like I was delicate. Like I was royalty.
The front door opened as Austin took a seat beside me.
“Is this the danger you felt, do you think?” he asked as I distinctly heard Mr. Tom say, “You rang?”
“What an eejit,” Niamh muttered. “He gets nervous and turns into a donkey. More of a donkey, I should say.”
“No, I don’t think so,” I whispered, trying to hear who was at the door. “This must be the first wave—the people I summoned before the bar.”
“Well, if Mr. Tom is right,” Edgar said, having no problem with Mr. Tom’s name change, “and they are gargoyles, then you’ll have your work cut out for you, Jessie. They are some of the most stubborn creatures alive, not to mention they’ll keep trying to mate you. They’re like ants in that way. They’ll be helplessly attracted to their queen, and they will feel it is their duty to help you conceive.”
“That’s only if she wants a child.” Niamh waved the thought away. “If that’s not her goal, they’ll just try to shag her. Especially lookin’ like that, eh, Jessie? Who wouldn’t? You goin’ta let yer date have a ride tonight?”
My eyes widened and Austin stiffened before clasping his hands in his lap.
“No,” I said, lowering my face to try to hide my embarrassment.
“Well, if you do, I know Earl has loaded up on co—”
“I know, I know, it’s fine, I don’t need them,” I said quickly to cut her off. Why was Mr. Tom telling everyone he’d stocked up for some sort of sexual enlightenment? I planned to go on a few dates to get back into the swing of it, not bang the whole town. Good God.
“She is right in here, if you please.” Mr. Tom entered the room at a slow walk, his chest puffed out and his wings fluttering behind him. He stopped just inside the door and peeled off to the side, his hand out. “She is about to leave. She has limited time. Very busy, as you can guess.”
Two men followed him, one behind the other, in their mid-twenties or early thirties, with thick arms and chests, though not as robust as Austin. The first of the two, the younger one, had a broad face with a round nose and thick brows. His companion was taller, with a slightly thinner frame and piercing brownish-black eyes that settled on me like a punch to the face. Wings that looked like thick, shiny capes fluttered out to their sides, glimmering in the light.
They stopped just before the chair Niamh sat in, the one in back coming to rest beside the other, their presences imposing, the air about them intense. All the nerves I’d felt came rushing back. At the very least, they were intimidating. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be in the same room with them.
How was I supposed to lead them?
Mr. Tom scooted a little so the new entries could see him, trying to hold his puffed-up posture while only sliding his feet. He looked absurd. “Jacinta, this is Cedric”—the taller tilted his head down—“and Alek.” The other tilted his head in turn. “Jacinta is the owner and magical heir of Ivy House. I’m sure you’ve heard of her.”
The two didn’t move or speak, their expressions severe. How could they have heard of me, given I was non-magical before this and Ivy House had been unclaimed for generations?
“Hello.” I bent forward to get up, but my seams
groaned. Any further and they might pop. This dress did not allow the freedom of movement of sweats.
Smile fixed in place, facing a conundrum, I scooted forward, holding down my hem so I didn’t show everyone my underwear. If I kept this up, I’d fight Mr. Tom for the Most Ridiculous Award.
“Wait,” Austin said quietly before standing, uncoiling from his position with lethal grace. The gazes of both newcomers snapped to him like rubber bands.
He bent and offered me his hand, which I gladly took, and helped me up.
It wasn’t until I started walking toward them with a smile that the newcomers refocused on me, but judging by the tension in their bearings and their occasional glances at Austin, following at my back, his presence weighed on their minds.
“Welcome,” I said, stopping in front of them. Niamh didn’t bother to get up, but watched us with her head tilted and her beer in hand.
Both newcomers bent at the knee, their bows deep, their eyes continually flicking to Austin.
“This is Austin Steele, the peacekeeper of the town.” I stepped to the side a little and motioned to him.
Austin didn’t step or bend forward, like I had thought he might. Instead, he stared at each of them in turn with a flat expression, his eyes sparkling aggressively. He wasn’t even trying to assume the commander of the house role right now—this was just his way. He did this posturing stuff in his sleep, which was why he didn’t need to wear that sheriff badge, I guess.
“This is Niamh.” I put out my hand to her. “She is one of the original protectors of Ivy House, as is Edgar there, in the back.”
“Hello. Lovely to make…see you.” Edgar bowed. “Your acquaintance.”
“Fail,” Niamh drawled.
“You’ve met Mr. Tom, of course.” I put out my hand for him. “So…do you plan to stay for a while, or…” I motioned for them to sit.
“We stay so long you need us, Majesty.” Alek bowed to me.
“No, no.” I gave him a stop gesture. “Don’t call me that.”
“She likes to remain informal while at home,” Mr. Tom said, stepping forward, his haughtiness knowing no bounds. “You may address her as ‘miss.’”
“Yes, of course.” Alek bowed again. It was clearly his go-to move. “It is an honor, miss. Our people…” He muttered a collection of syllables I couldn’t make sense of.
“Jealous,” Edgar helped, clearly knowing whatever language Alek had used.
“Yes, yes, jeal-os.” Alek bobbed his head. “We pick. They no. We the best. Proof.”
“The tales of the Ivy heirs of the past all speak of her beauty and power…” Cedric put his hand on his chest. “They were correct. You are ravishing. A woman of experience, as well. I was expecting younger.” I tensed, then widened my eyes when he went a direction I didn’t expect. “This is a nice surprise. I look forward to your heightened sensual experience. It is said that a woman of your age is at her sexual peak, is it not?”
“Now. Aren’t you glad I stocked you up, miss?” Mr. Tom’s eyebrows rose and he zipped his eyes back and forth, as if to say, See? Two younger guys to take a turn in the sheets with. “They’ll have excellent stamina. You’ll be able to do away with all that online Dick-dating hoopla.”
“Oh my God, what is his malfunction?” I muttered, mortified.
“Time check,” Niamh said with a crooked smile. “Don’t be late on account of the hired help.”
“I’ll walk you,” Austin said, his hand touching down on the small of my back.
“Right. Well.” I smiled at the guys, trying to hide my embarrassment. “Mr. Tom will fix you something to eat and get you settled. We have plenty of room if you need a place to stay.”
Austin’s head snapped toward me, his gaze questioning.
“We…stay?” Alek asked.
Cedric turned to watch me exit.
“Yes, yes, she has some business to attend to.” Mr. Tom took up his position in the doorway after Austin and I had passed. “She’s very busy, as I said. She must not be delayed. Now, settle in and I will explain all the particulars. You need to know about her life leading up to this moment.”
His voice cut off as I stepped outside. Having forgotten a shawl, I wrapped my magic around me for warmth.
My magic. It still sounded so crazy, but in some ways it had already become second nature.
“What is with Mr. Tom?” I asked, taking Austin’s arm again. He chose a slower pace, more like a stroll, sauntering down the sidewalk toward town, where I would meet my date. “What is with those gargoyles just assuming they’d get laid?”
“Gargoyles are one of the more…promiscuous magical types, I think. You wouldn’t know it because of their…gruff nature, but they do like to get down with whoever is willing. The female of the species is quite rare, and she often cycles through males at her leisure until she finds someone she wants to mate. The someone she chooses might not be a gargoyle, but I’ve heard it usually is. They are drawn to strength and power, and some gargoyles have that in spades.”
“They’re not going to just assume, right?” Fear and uncertainty coiled within me. “There won’t be…consent concerns?”
His voice turned into a hard growl. “If they harm a hair on your head, Jacinta, I will rip them apart. Literally.”
“That’s all well and good, Austin, but that isn’t going to help me avoid a bad situation. I don’t want revenge; I want to not get hurt in the first place.”
He covered my hand with his. “You’re right. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. No, from what I’ve heard, that won’t be an issue. Just be upfront and they should back down. You…could have your pick, though, if you wanted…practice.”
That last sentence sounded as if it had been dragged out of his mouth. As though he was as reluctant to talk about it as I was.
“Yeah, let’s not open that door for discussion,” I said, looking straight ahead. “I wish Mr. Tom wouldn’t.”
“That guy is such a trip. I always think I’m going to get used to him, and then he surprises me by upping the ante of weirdness. Edgar, too. It is…really unbelievable. That crew is honest-to-God the strangest group of people I have ever met in my entire life.”
I was laughing helplessly by the time we got to the little bistro on the main drag, an Italian restaurant I hadn’t been to yet but had heard was fantastic. He stopped by the door, waited for me to take my hand back, and then stepped back to give me more space.
“So,” he said, holding my gaze.
“So,” I responded, looking around the quiet street. Then I lifted my empty hands to—hug him, maybe? I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter because it made me realize something. “Damn it.” I looked back toward the house. “I was in such a hurry to get out of there that I forgot all my stuff. We’re supposed to split the bill. What time is it?”
He checked his watch, a large square of technology. “Five past eight. You’re late.”
“Dang it. Can you call Mr. Tom and tell him to bring it for me, please? With my phone, obviously.”
“Here.” He reached into his back pocket and dragged out a gold money clip pinching a dull green wad. “How much do you need?”
“Oh no, don’t worry about it. I need my phone, too, so he can just bring the whole lot.”
“I’ll call, but just in case this date ends as quickly as the last one…” He slipped the folded pack of bills out as he glanced at the restaurant. “This place is pretty pricey.” He leafed a few fives and twenties out of the way before sliding out a hundred-dollar bill, and then another. He handed them over.
“No, it’s—”
“Jess, take it. If you don’t need it, great, no biggie, I’ll get it back from you. I’ll ask Niamh to drop off your clutch on her way into the bar. She has to be less embarrassing than that clown Mr. Tom—damn it. Earl.”
“Just give in.” I couldn’t help the giggles. “Just give in and call him Mr. Tom. You know you want to.”
“No,” he ground out, threatening a smile. He slipp
ed the wad of cash back into his jeans, the material hugging his large package and muscular thighs. I didn’t know if he bought them tight to show off on purpose, but they did a great job of drawing the eyes.
“Right, but where am I going to put it…” I held the notes in my hand, looking down at my tight dress.
Austin’s eyes snagged on my bust.
“It’s not going to fit in there,” I said with a grin.
In the dim light, I just barely saw a flash of hunger in those deep blue eyes. “No, I guess not. Your shoe?”
I laughed, folded it, and threaded it into my bra. “Just kidding—there is always space for money.”
This time I was sure of it—hunger, wild and ferocious, moved within his gaze. My body warmed, then pounded, my core tightening in response.
He didn’t comment, nor did he drop his gaze.
“So,” I repeated in a strained whisper.
“I’ll see you”—he gritted his teeth, spared another glance for the restaurant, tense now, and stepped away again—“when I see you, I guess. Good luck.”
“Oh, I forgot to ask,” I called to his backside while admiring the view. The man must have been created in the mold of a Greek god. “What’s the status of those guys? Did you silently sort out the king of the hill?”
“Of course,” he said over his shoulder without stopping. “It’s always going to be me.”
8
The interior of the restaurant was fashionably elegant, with white linens, flickering candlelight, and red carnations in dainty glass vases. Most of the tables within were taken, couples or families dining quietly. A small bar sat off to my right—room enough for four people, but only one seat was taken, a younger guy with a black collared shirt and rimmed hat.
The memory of my father reminding my brother to take his hat off at the table kept my gaze rooted to him, and in a moment, the attention was obviously noticed. His shoulders tightened and he turned in his seat. But instead of looking around for the source of his creepy-crawlies, he looked directly at me.
I should’ve shifted my gaze—I was the rude one in this scenario, staring at a stranger for no reason—but I couldn’t. He had a fresh face that spoke of a guy in his early twenties, but something in his eyes felt…ancient. I couldn’t see their color, or really any details from this far away in a dimly lit restaurant, but they carried the ennui of someone who’d lived this life three times over and was just waiting around for something different to happen. An old soul, clearly, or maybe just a guy in a small town desperate to get out.