“Yes,” he said, because he wasn’t sure how to tell her all of that—or even if he should.
“I felt really safe with you. This probably sounds dumb, but it felt like you ushered me in front of you so you could guard my back. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. My life was in flux back then, even more so than it is now, and my worldview was being turned on its head, but there was one thing I didn’t have to worry about: my safety. I knew you had it covered. You see, as a woman, I need to at least keep some semblance of awareness about my surroundings, but that day…I didn’t feel like I had to. It was a nice feeling. I mean, I did mostly pay attention, but… Blech. I’m babbling.”
“You have it right. As the strongest, my job is to take the rear, to protect the most vulnerable. I’d do that for anyone in my territory.”
“That’s not your job.”
“It’s…my position.”
“It should be your job. Ivy House is my job. These are my premises. The town should be yours. Officially yours. The people who come here should know they answer to you. Here, they answer to me.” She pointed at the trees up ahead. The brush hid the elderly guardians from sight, but their bickering gave away their position, Niamh and Earl arguing about the best way to set things up. “Apparently we are training in the trees today. Lord only knows why. They never tell me. But given no one is in the air, they aren’t planning on forcing me to fall as a means to fly today.”
“Probably scared who else you’ll call,” he murmured, following her through the reaching branches.
The first of the guardians he saw was Edgar, crouched off to the side of the clearing and bent over a large volume with yellowed pages. A bicycle helmet adorned his head and a baseball catcher’s chest pad was strapped around his body.
Austin stopped and stared at Edgar for a moment as Niamh and Earl glanced over. That old vampire was unparalleled in his oddness.
“Why should I create that distinction now?” he asked Jess, turning so he wasn’t looking at Edgar. The situation was just too distracting. He’d have a hard time focusing on what she was saying.
She faced him, her expression serious. “As I said, it feels like I called something dangerous on that last summons. It’s coming, whatever it is. Ivy House will help me on this premises, I can feel that. Figuring out the whole leadership angle is on me, but the house will baby me, and push me, and coax me until I reach my true potential. The problem is that it has no influence on the town. Austin, I told you, I’m in over my head. I know I said I would, but right now, I can’t help you protect the town. I don’t know enough yet. I’m afraid I’m about to create exactly the situation you feared.”
“The people coming to help you won’t tear up the town,” he told her.
“Those who have chosen to help, no. What about those who don’t make the cut? What about those who show up for the sake of curiosity? It feels like more than I asked for are coming. They’re coming, and they’ll lurk in the town, swinging their weight around and asserting themselves. Obviously this is all just a hunch, but…the feeling is growing increasingly…” She shook her head. “They’re dangerous, that’s all I’m saying. Danger is coming. I feel it.
“Right now, you’re just a guy maintaining order. You have no actual authority. You’re uncrowned. That means people who don’t know you won’t feel compelled to listen to you—most out of ignorance, and some out of stubbornness. You shouldn’t have to fight for dominance every time someone oversteps. You need a sheriff badge, like in the old westerns. You need to be legit. Otherwise, it’ll be mayhem.”
The little clearing fell silent as he looked down at Jacinta’s worried face. He infused his words with his magic as he gently wrapped his fingers around her upper arms. “For as long as I’ve been here, I’ve always been just a guy maintaining order. Trust me, Jacinta, it’s more than I’ll ever need. I am the sheriff badge, and I like fighting for dominance to prove it. Don’t worry about the town—I’ve got it covered, no matter what comes.”
7
After finishing up my training in the trees a couple of hours earlier, mostly close combat, as I’d expected, and watched by Austin for the first time, I had excused myself to get ready for the date Niamh had set up. She’d taken over my online dating accounts because, in her words, I couldn’t be trusted to choose decent candidates. I hadn’t even argued—I was genuinely curious if she’d do a better job than I had. She couldn’t do much worse.
I checked myself in the mirror and felt all the color drain from my face. I pulled my eyes away…then slowly let them drift back.
That pep talk I’d given myself last week after the train-wreck date had prompted me to go shopping and pick up some new dresses. I hadn’t found any fun disco-ball outfits in my size, but I had picked a few dresses that showed off my curves and newly toned-up body—thank you, Ivy House, for tightening everything back up. Cheat to win.
Where the hell had all that courage gone?
I stared at the woman in the mirror, standing in a tight, bright red dress that showed popping cleavage, pushed out and up by a push-up bra, plenty of leg, and every single plane and angle of her body. She might as well have a sign that said, “Look at me, I’m sexy and glamorous!”
Which had seemed right up my alley when I was trying things on in a colorless dressing room and getting beaming nods of approval from Mr. Tom whenever I asked for his opinion. Now, ready to go into reality where strangers could see me, suddenly I wasn’t so sure. As a forty-year-old divorced mom…I wanted to gawk at myself, laugh nervously, and then slip into my PJs.
“No.” I balled up my fists, my face now the same color as the dress. “I’m sexy, damn it. I am glamorous. I will not swim around in frumpy black dresses as a means to escape attention. Oh crap, I’m showing a lot of boob.”
I thought about switching bras, but honestly didn’t want to fight my way out of this one, not to mention the dress. While the dress was actually quite comfortable, since the material stretched a little and the lace on the bodice and wrapping around my back wasn’t too tight, I worried I might break the zipper or bust a seam or something. I didn’t have the energy to pick out another outfit. Best to just go with it.
“I hope this guy is not a turd,” I muttered, fastening on a sparkly diamond and ruby necklace. My ex had had his faults, but when it came to jewelry, he’d given amazing presents.
I clasped the matching bracelet, chose dangly diamonds for earrings, and did one last check of my hair and makeup. My smoky-eye ability was much better this time—thank you, YouTube tutorials. My hair…well, there was a little curl in the otherwise straight sheet that fell past my shoulders. Good enough.
I sucked in a breath, widened my eyes at my boobs, which now looked on the verge of popping out of my dress, and blew out my breath again. I must remember not to do that at the restaurant. I didn’t know much about the kind of guy Niamh had chosen—I didn’t want him to think my breathing was an invitation.
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.”