A man who’d better watch himself, or he was going to get an aggressive eye-gouge.
Still playing it cool, though my heart felt like it might pound through my chest, I tapped the screen of my phone. Niamh’s number, tested last night, was near the top of the list.
“Hello,” the man said, strolling forward slowly. A stroll that suggested his interest was me, and maybe also the lovely dark street where a villain could get away with murder if they acted quickly enough.
“Hey,” I said, thinking of crossing the street.
I pulled my phone closer to my face, shaking a little with the warning tremors of a potentially bad situation. I tapped Niamh’s number and called, no justifiable reason to call the cops since nothing had really happened, but needing backup just in case. If something happened, hopefully she’d call the cops for me. Or call Austin.
“Lovely night,” the man said, veering into the center of the sidewalk, blocking my way.
Ten feet to go. If I crossed to the other side of the street, it might motivate him to chase me, but passing him this closely posed its own risks.
“Sure.” I opted to cross the street diagonally, walking fast but not running. He was trim and an old lady had passed me earlier, I didn’t want him running after me. I doubted I would win that race, and the effort would only tire me out.
“Hello?” I heard, Niamh thankfully answering her phone.
“I wanted to speak with you for a moment,” the man said and moved to intercept, his gait long and his speed picking up.
“Jessie?” Niamh said, talking and laughter in the background. She was clearly at the pub.
“Need help,” I said into the phone quickly. “Almost home. On our street—”
The phone was ripped out of my hand.
Surprised, terrified, I reacted with my usual linguistics.
“Hah!” I twisted and threw out an arm.
My elbow battered someone in the mouth, cracking his head back. My phone skittered across the ground.
“Help!” I shouted, already running.
My face smacked into solid air. My body splatted against...
There was nothing there, I realized as I staggered back, wide-eyed. Nothing was in my way. What had I hit?
Large hands clamped on my upper arms. A backward glance told me it was the man I’d bashed with my elbow, his lip bleeding and a surly expression on his face. This was a second guy, different than the one who’d followed me.
“Help!” I cried, still disoriented but knowing my phone was on. Knowing, if I yelled loud enough, Niamh was liable to hear. “Help! I’m nearly home.”
The guy that held me pivoted and stomped on my phone.
“No!” I yelled, balling my fists. “What do you think I am, made of money? Why would you do that? Just freaking turn it off.”
“’Bout that home…” The first man stepped in front of me. I hadn’t gotten a good look earlier—too intent on getting away to care what he looked like—so I hadn’t noticed his weird attire. He had on black gloves, a long black velvet cape, and a tuxedo underneath. Mr. Tom clearly wasn’t the only would-be superhero magician.
“Trick or treat,” I muttered, my mouth getting away from me.
“What role do you play within that house?” the man asked.
“I’m the new caretaker. I clean the place, that’s it. It doesn’t belong to me. It’s my friend’s aunt’s. Do you want some tea or something? I’m sure Mr. Tom, the butler, will happily make some for you. My neighbor definitely would. She’d even throw in a sandwich or two coupled with a little abuse about your outfit. Not that anyone would blame—”
“Your friend’s aunt’s…” His eyes squinted. “You’re not of the Havercamps?”
“No! I’m an Evans. Well…legally I’m an Evans. I started out a McMillan. I don’t even really have my own last name. It’s just given and taken away from me based on which men are in my life—”
“Silence.”
I clicked my mouth shut, cutting off the random babbling. Panic fuzzed the edges of my awareness. Deep breaths helped clear my vision a little, but the second man’s grip was starting to hurt, digging into my flesh. I still didn’t know what they wanted.
“Those who guard it are letting you clean it?” the first man asked.
“That’s enough.”
I whipped my head around, relief flooding me. Niamh had come. And she’d brought back-up.
Fifteen
Austin Steele stood in the middle of the street, moonlight outlining his powerful body. His strong arms hung loose at his sides and his raw intensity electrified the air. He leaned forward, just a little, balancing on the balls of his feet, obviously ready to charge forward at a moment’s notice. He’d come to fight, there was no denying it, and he clearly did not plan to lose.
Relief washed over me. We might’ve had beef, but damn I was glad to see him.
A little removed from Austin stood Niamh, still decked out in her running sweatbands, and unbelievably holding a beer.
“What is this, a pack?” The first man smiled and took a step toward Austin Steele. The second man jerked me around, making me his shield. “A bit long in tooth, aren’t we?”
“I’m not with him, no,” Niamh said, motioning to Austin. “I’m with them.” She gestured behind us.
Glancing back, I could just see Mr. Tom and Edgar walking down the middle of the street, Mr. Tom’s cape billowing out behind him.
The first man laughed. “What a hilarious little town. The four of you geriatrics are its protectors?”
“The town’s protectors? I wouldn’t bother me arse.” Niamh laughed, the sound conveying the speaker’s idiocy. She immediately became my bestie. “No, we are that lady’s protectors.” She pointed at me. “The notion of us protecting the town would be nearly as hilarious as your getup. You have an awfully large cape. What are you trying to compensate for, then?”
“So she does intend to be the chosen,” the man said, a smile curling his lips. “And here I believed that she wasn’t Miss Havercamp.”
“She isn’t Miss Havercamp, no. Fun fact, Miss Havercamp is actually called Mrs. Drury now,” Niamh replied. She took a sip of her beer. “Terrible last name, I know. I tried to warn her away from taking it. Diana, I said, it doesn’t matter your age, people will still make fun of you for that name.”
The man’s smile dwindled. The second man lightly shook me for no reason, drawing Austin’s attention.
“Then…what is she doing here?” the first man replied. “I received reports that someone new was applying to be Ivy House’s chosen.”
“She’s not applying,” Niamh said. “She’s stumbling into the situation without a clue about what awaits her at the other end.”
“I can make sure it will be me,” the man said, his tone silky.
“I will make sure that it isn’t,” Austin replied, absolutely no bravado in his promise. It sounded like he was stating a fact, and his confidence made it absolutely believable. His confidence, and the rough viciousness of his voice.
The small hairs rose along my arms and a shiver ran through my body, fear at his savageness…and a little excitement for the same reason.
“Let her go, and get out of town,” he said. “She and this place are under my protection.”
The man laughed. “Is that right? Your protection?” He turned dramatically and looked behind him, then all around. “Are your faithful subjects hiding in the brush? Or are you as solitary as you seem?” He laughed again. “Felix, bring her—”
“Sorry.” Niamh wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I should’ve introduced ya —this is Austin Steele.”
A quiver ran through the two men. The smile dripped off of the first man’s face and his body froze. The man holding me squeezed harder in reflex. He jerked me around, directing his Jessie-shield at Austin.
“Ah. Austin Steele,” the first man said, his voice tight. “Your reputation precedes you, of course. Funny, I’d heard you weren’t interested in pressing for more power.”
“I’m not. We don’t want any trouble.”
“You don’t want any trouble.” The first guy made a small gesture to his pal, and the hands squeezing my arms relaxed and then pulled away. “You don’t want any trouble, and you’re not strategizing for more power, yet here you are sidling up next to Ivy House. The coincidence is…amazing.”
“The coincidence is just that, a coincidence. Ivy House has been without a master for generations. Long before I arrived. This is a sleepy little town, and I plan to keep it that way. You have overstayed your welcome.”
The man’s gaze zipped to me. I’d been edging away to the good guy side, but I froze in place, like we were in some demented game of red light/green light. His gaze flitted around the others before settling back on Austin. “What a tangled web, indeed. Well, Mr. Steele, if you plan to halt progress, I hope you’re prepared to go up against your match.”
“And who might that be, you?” Austin said, power coiling in his body.
“My employer, actually.” A white card magically appeared in the man’s gloved hand. He flung it, the rectangle cutting through the darkness and skidding across the road. He turned to me and bowed, his cape swirling around him. “Watch yourself, lady. You wouldn’t want to pick the losing side.”
He flared his cape and stalked away, melting into the brush and disappearing, his exit as strange as his entrance. His lackey followed suit.
Limbs shaking, heart racing, and phone cracked or worse, I tried to round on the three elderly people and Austin all at once. Their positioning made it impossible, so I aimed my miserable uncertainty at Austin.
“Lucy, you have some s’plaining to do!”
A blur of movement caught my attention in my peripheral vision. A second set of hands clamped down on my arms, fingers long and spindly though strangely strong. A face leaned in toward my neck.