by K. F. Breene
He nodded.
“Unfortunately,” I went on, trying to keep the apology out of my voice. This was business. I couldn’t worry about offending him or hurting his feelings, which was easier said than done, given the need to please people had been drilled into me—and every other woman I knew—my whole life. Before Ivy House, I would have preferred to endure my own discomfort rather than anger or upset others, even if the other party was acting out of turn. That made me a great host, but it really worked against me in terms of business. I had to harden up for this new life. I had to own being the boss lady. I couldn’t apologize for the decisions I made. This wasn’t personal, and Damarion had known the score all along. They all had.
But man, strapping on my iron panties was easier said than done.
“I have to make some structural changes to my setup,” I said. “You have excellent skills and a lot of very admirable qualities, but unfortunately, I’ll no longer be needing your services at this time. I hope you can understand.”
I just barely stopped myself from apologizing and telling him it wasn’t personal.
He studied me quietly for a moment, making me want to squirm in my seat.
Finally, he nodded curtly and stood. “You are not ready for me. When you are, I will expect another summons. It has been an honor.” He bowed deeply and his wings fluttered. After straightening, he took my hand and brushed his lips across my knuckles. “Until we meet again.”
“Yes. Of course. I—”
He strode from the room, not looking back.
In his wake, I stood staring for a quiet moment. I wasn’t sure what exactly he thought I wasn’t ready for, his handsy approach to romancing a lady or his leadership style. Regardless, his delusions had made this conversation surprisingly painless.
One down, one to go.
“I doubt he’ll get another summons.” Mr. Tom stepped into the room. “He’s a bruised apple at this point. Best to be tossed in the compost heap.”
“Were you listening at the door?” I asked, sitting back down.
“Of course, miss. I wanted to know what he said.”
I sighed. “He took it well, though. That’s a relief.”
“Yes. You are only excusing the one gargoyle, right—you haven’t changed your mind?”
“Correct. I want to get to know the others. I want to see if, given the chance, they’ll be better team players, like Ulric and Cedric have turned out to be.”
“Right. And when will you call in Austin Steele?”
I looked out the window at the gloomy day, the dark gray clouds promising rain.
“As soon as Damarion leaves.”
Fortunately, Damarion didn’t waste any time. He didn’t even say goodbye to anyone. He grabbed the few things to his name (not including the car, which he left behind as if it were disposable), changed into his other form, and stepped out of the third-floor trapdoor. His huge and magnificent wings snapped wide and away he went, an amazing specimen.
His strength and power in the air would be missed. I probably needed to summon another flier with his abilities. It would have to wait, though. First I needed to get a handle on my team.
As the afternoon waned, I once again found myself in the sitting room, this time even more anxious. Austin’s foot touched down on the property and the next followed slowly. His approach wasn’t hurried as he made his way to the front door.
“I shall escort him in, miss,” Mr. Tom said, pausing just outside the door.
Something thunked on the stairs, and he turned and looked at them as Austin opened the front door.
“Well, what in the world…” Mr. Tom stepped back.
The large doll head with eyes turned mostly white rolled by.
Austin swore and jumped back from the door.
“Kick it!” I shouted. “Set fire to it!”
“Now, miss, that is a little overdramatic, don’t you think?” Mr. Tom tsked at me. “I wonder how the head got loose, though. How strange.”
“What kind of a freak-show house is this?” I heard Austin say, and I remembered that he wasn’t big on those dolls either. Big, tough alpha who could make an enemy cower got jumpy around dolls.
Something about that made laughter bubble up. It wasn’t like I blamed the guy, but it was unexpected.
He stepped into the sitting room doorway. I could feel Mr. Tom jog out into the front yard, clearly intending to capture, and no doubt save, the doll head.
“Come in and close that door,” I said, standing. “I need to burn that whole doll room. I’m not kidding. Ivy House, this isn’t funny. No more decapitation jokes.”
The wooden carving morphed into a sea of heads rolling by.
“She has a very sick sense of humor,” I grumbled.
“You’re telling me,” Austin replied.
He stood in front of the newly closed door, watching me warily.
Remembering why he was here, I sat slowly. “Please…” I gestured for him to take the other seat. Breathing evenly, trying to keep my courage up, I waited for him to sit. “I want to thank you for saving my life—”
He shook his head. “You never have to thank me for that. It isn’t a job. It is a pleasure.”
My heart warmed, and I let a smile slip out. But I couldn’t let myself lose momentum—I had to push forward.
“You were able to do what no one else could, even those with Ivy House’s help,” I said. “You helped me fully own my new magic and everything that comes with it. A thank you isn’t enough for that. As you know, I’ve been having trouble controlling the house team. That’s made us ineffective, and it’s kept me from getting a good read on most of the new people. It is putting me and the town both in danger.”
I clasped my hands in my lap and wet my lips, pushing myself to go on. Here came the hard part.
“I need someone that can unite this team. Someone that can help me lead it. For this reason, I’ve let Damarion go. I wondered…” I shifted within that focused blue gaze, close to squirming again. “You told me once that you could help me get people in line. I know you’d rather not deal with Ivy House, but I wondered if you might change your mind if I offered the position to you as a job, where I paid you. Will you help me unite these people? Help me learn how to properly lead people into battle? I mean, I’ll still try to free you from the magic. This isn’t about that. I’ll definitely do that. I was just wondering if you could help me with the other stuff…”
I let my words trail away, realizing I was babbling. Turned out it was even harder to ask for help and face rejection than to tell someone they were no longer needed. I had to work on all of this.
He stood, his gaze still rooted to mine, and turned for the door.
I deflated. That stung a little. I’d figured there was a fifty/fifty chance of him refusing, but I hadn’t expected such an abrupt rejection. Usually he was a little more personable than that.
As he opened the door and walked out, I glared at the wooden carving on the mantelpiece. “Nice going, taunting him with the doll head. What’s wrong with you?”
Doors opened and closed upstairs. I could sense the little doll bodies flopping around in their room.
I stuck out a warning finger, about ready to deliver a threat, when I felt Austin turn the opposite way I’d been expecting. I pushed up quickly and followed, catching him in the hallway headed toward the back of the house.
“What’d he say?” Mr. Tom called from the stairs, holding the renegade doll head.
I ignored him, my chest tightening as I watched Austin turn the corner. He maintained his pace, and I stopped breathing altogether as he approached the door to the Council Room. There he hesitated, and I bit my lip, giving him space, disbelief and hope raging through me.
When he crossed the threshold, my heart thundered in my chest.
It felt like hooks lodged in my middle and pulled, reeling me into the room after him.
“I made a deal with myself,” he said as he stood just inside the doorway, waiting for me.
He didn’t turn my way. “If you still wanted my help, I would accept the magic and a place on your team. I would accept the responsibility to guard and protect you, navigating all the strings attached to this weird house. I decided that if you gave me the honor of choosing me, I would unite this house with the town, and spread out my influence to the surrounding areas. I’d create and run a territory that would help secure you and your home. I decided that I would finally wear the title of alpha, come what may.”
He turned toward me, his large shoulders stretching his white T-shirt and his handsome face showing his grim determination. It was clear he was sacrificing his earlier stance on the magic and this house because I needed him. The guy was as selfless as they came, and if I hadn’t needed him so badly, I would have shooed him out of the Council Room.
I did need him, though. We all needed him—this house, this town, even the tourists. When the crap rolled in, there were very few people who could balance everything effectively and maintain order. Austin was an incredible person and an incredible leader. No matter how many people I summoned, I didn’t think I’d ever find someone better, not with his level of experience. Definitely not with his loyalty and sense of honor. He only demanded of the people he governed what he demanded of himself.
“I am honored you accept,” I whispered, rapidly blinking away the tears clouding my vision. “Thank you.”
He nodded, and his jaw and hands clenched. “The house is trying to make me walk to a specific chair.”
“Oh, wait. Wait a minute!” Mr. Tom said, standing at the door. I hadn’t noticed—he just blended into the scenery at this stage. He was the house’s white noise. “Let me go get the others. Wait, what am I saying—Ivy House, summon the others! It’s happening. Austin Steele is becoming one of us and getting a chair! It’s actually happening!”
“I could’ve lived my whole life without hearing that I was becoming like Earl,” Austin murmured.
Mr. Tom dropped the doll head he was still holding and ran from the room. “Wait for us,” he yelled over his shoulder.
The doll head bounced and rolled toward me, its eyes moving and its stringy red hair flapping around unnaturally.
“No!” I made the door slam, trying to force it out. The edge hit the face and bounced back as if the doll were made of rubber. The head rolled until it was facing me, a little tilted, its eyes staring at me and a sneaky grin on its pink-painted lips. “Gross.”
“I already regret this,” Austin said.
“Ivy House, this isn’t funny!”
Niamh approached the door wearing the black sweats she’d had to order herself, which was probably why they were two sizes too big, and stopped, looking down on the doll head. “What in the… Why is a doll’s head lyin’ around?” She squinted at me. “What’s wrong witch’ye?”
“Throw that thing in the incinerator.” I motioned at the head as Mr. Tom returned carrying a silver tray laden with glasses of champagne.
“Ivy House is taking the piss, is it?” Niamh stepped to the other side of the head and kicked it down the hall. “It seems to have a fascination with rolling doll heads lately.”
“God, I hate dolls,” I said, doing a heebie-jeebies dance. “I don’t actually think your goblin form is worse than the dolls, now that I think about it. At least you know you’re scary—those dolls are masquerading as lifelike babies, and then they come alive and grab knives and attack. It’s just not right.”
“Miss, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re prone to hysterics when it comes to those harmless dolls.” Mr. Tom set down the tray on the small round table by the window, its surface polished and sporting a high shine. “Many of them are cute.”
“Some of them are creepy, though,” Niamh said, walking into the circle.
“Don’t you start,” Mr. Tom said, straightening.
Niamh took a seat in the circle of chairs, the third from the top, the top denoted by a standing, woven flag on a pole that looked centuries old. Mr. Tom took the ninth chair, and when Edgar got there a moment later, his lips turned up in a ghastly grin, he took the twelfth seat. Apparently I chose my protectors, except for the three who had been here before me, and Ivy House chose their importance within the circle.
Austin stood, immobile. “There are ways to get something done, Ivy House, and trying to force me isn’t one of them.”
“Do I…stand anywhere in particular?” I asked, outside of the circle and close to the far wall.
“You wait until Austin’s place has been chosen, miss,” Mr. Tom said out of the side of his mouth.
Austin’s muscles relaxed. His nod was slight, and then he walked forward, curving around the circle until he stood at the top behind the flag, which reached his nose. A shadowy, magical drape poured down in front of the windows, mostly cutting out the light. Candles flickered to life, the flames dancing slowly.
Austin glanced at me, and I saw the wariness in his eyes. After a deep breath, though, he stepped around the flag and between the chairs, entering the circle.
“I can barely breathe with the excitement,” Mr. Tom said.
“Thank God this isn’t a formal ceremony in front of strangers we needed to impress,” Niamh said, watching Austin but addressing Mr. Tom, “or you’d just have outed yerself as a clown.”
“Better a clown than a miserable old hag without a polite bone in her body,” he grumbled.
Austin stopped in front of the first chair, the flag at his back, and slowly sat down.
I sucked in a breath, something stirring deep inside of me. Ivy House thought Austin was and would remain the most important member in that circle. She didn’t plan to save the space in case someone better came along. She didn’t have any second guesses.
Her sentiments lined up with my own.
My stupid eyes teared up again.
The pull forward caught me off guard, and I resisted at first, now knowing what Austin had been reacting to. A moment later, though, I took my place behind the long, thin flag, paused, and then walked into the circle, the air moving around me, the power building. I took my position in the middle and faced Austin.
“Welcome,” I said, somehow knowing this was all that was required.
He didn’t nod or verbally reply, just held my gaze for a long, silent moment. Candlelight danced and glowed around us. Magic and energy jumped between us as though sparks of fire, not sure which person to settle on.
My team officially had a new member. I half wondered if Fate had led him to this town, or Ivy House had called him in preparation for my eventual return. I doubted I’d ever really know.
He was here now, though, and relief flooded me that he’d agreed to join us. That he’d agreed to help us. With him on our side, there was no way we could go wrong.
“You know what this means, right?” Mr. Tom asked quietly. “If you’re one of us, you have to call me Mr. Tom. Or Tom, if the formality is a sticking point…”
Austin ignored him, not taking his eyes off me, like I was his lifeline in this new venture. He’d always been mine.
At least the new guy was already well versed in Mr. Tom’s weird. Better and better.
Epilogue
“Turns out they’d been there for the last couple of months.” Austin leaned against the bar, his long-sleeved T-shirt hugging his currently flaring arm muscles. He seemed to find it humorous that my gaze always snagged on his various flexed body parts.
It wasn’t like I could help it. His shirts were all kinds of tight because of some laundry snafu or other, and he put on a pretty amazing muscle show. Besides, I was a warm-blooded female who’d never gotten anywhere with Mr. Hot McHandsy, and I hadn’t gotten to release the floodgates.
Paul bustled around him, the bar a little busier than usual for a Wednesday night. Word had gotten around that Austin had accepted an official spot in Ivy House less than a week ago. The magical people in this town loved to gossip, and everyone kept checking in to see how it was going. It was like they thought Austin might declare w
ar on the house or something. They must’ve sensed the ongoing battle of wills, something I was happy to turn a blind eye to.
“Who’d been where?” Niamh asked as she returned from the bathroom. “Ah, bejaysus, what are you doing here, you filthy bugger?”
I turned back to find Sasquatch approaching the empty seat to my right. He hated me, I hated him, yet he always sat near me. Why, I had no idea. To make us both miserable, I guessed.
He didn’t say a word as he took his seat.
Austin nodded at him, his way of asking Sasquatch what he wanted to drink.
“Usual,” Sasquatch said.
Austin’s shoulder flexed as he pushed open the door of the cooler that held some of the bottled beer. His bicep flexed as he reached in and took out a brown bottle with a silver label. His large and gloriously muscled back flared as he turned away from me to pop the top. When he turned back, his pecs popped under his shirt.
“What in the hell?” Sasquatch mumbled, catching the show.
“He’s doing that for you,” I told him as Austin set the bottle down. “He likes you.”
Sasquatch scowled at me, but he knew better than to insult me in front of Austin. At this point in his existence, he was clearly tired of being punched and thrown off his barstool.
Yet he still kept sitting next to me. It made absolutely no sense.
“Those mages had been staying a town over basically since I accepted the magic,” I told Niamh, running my fingers down the stem of my glass. “They’d been watching me the whole time. Probably most of the mages we encountered were doing the same.”
“We’re good now, though.” Austin resumed his lean. “I’m setting up defensive measures and lookouts. There’s a lot of work to be done before this town becomes a well-oiled machine, but that was obviously step one.”
There hadn’t been any sort of ceremony by which Austin had officially taken the alpha role. He didn’t tell anyone or say anything about his change in status, but he had stopped correcting people when they used the title. Niamh said there had been a few other minor adjustments in the way he acted, but they were apparently too subtle for me to notice.