“What are you on about? He can’t be more than six or seven years younger. Yer just not used to it because women usually have to date older men if they don’t want an eejit. But that’s for younger women—we’ve enough troubles that we’d do better being less mature, not more. Yer not lookin’ for a long-term thing anyway, right?”
“God no. I just need someone fun to take the edge off…being lonely.”
“Is that code for needin’ to get laid? I can’t tell.”
I could feel my face heating.
“Ah right, yeah. Thought so.” She nodded. “Yer just findin’ yerself, you are. You don’t need to go worrying about nothin’ t’all. All you need right now is a willy that stands up as long as you need it to. Trust me, younger is better. Maybe aim for twenties. It’s never fun when they’re done before you’ve even gotten goin’.”
I blew out a slow breath, her talk greatly helping. It felt like the clouds of doom had parted, letting in a little sunshine. That sunshine was cutting through all the crap I’d been brainwashed to believe about what “proper” women could and could not do.
“Thanks,” I said, reaching for the bottle.
“I got it.” Austin strolled up behind the bar, ignoring someone waving to grab his attention. He wrapped his large, scarred hand around the wine bottle.
“Are your hands soft, Austin?” I asked without meaning to, my mind running away from me.
A crease worked in his brow and his body tensed. “When they need to be,” he said, his voice deep and rough.
“She means soft, not gentle,” Niamh said. “When does your shift end? We need to talk before she can’t function anymore.”
“Good Lord, my tolerance isn’t that low,” I grumbled as Austin pushed the glass of wine my way and affixed the cork.
“Ye still do, yes,” Niamh said. “As soon as ye grow into that power of yours, it won’t wear you out so. I have faith ye’ll be able to hang on a little longer.”
“I’ve got help on the way,” Austin said, pointing at someone further back in the crowd to get their order. “And no, they aren’t soft to the touch. I’ve never… That’s not something…”
“My hands aren’t either.” Niamh analyzed her palms.
“Shut up, yes they are. So is your face, I can tell.” I slid my fingers across her palms.
She yanked her hands away. “Janey Mack, do you wash yer hands with sandpaper or something?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Clearly I need to invest in some magical skin cream. Damarion’s hands are really super soft.”
“That’ll feel nice when you finally take off that chastity belt.” She winked at me.
“I just have no idea how he does it. Mine keep getting rougher and rougher as I work with the weapons. I hope he doesn’t care…”
“If yer hands are in the right place, he won’t even notice.” Niamh chuckled.
As I took a sip from my glass, I finally noticed Sasquatch to my right, hunched over his beer and half turned away from the bar, showing me a little of his back.
“A glutton for punishment, huh?” I asked Niamh, ignoring him.
“He’s making a statement, the eejit. He’s putting his faith in Austin to protect him—meaning he’s declaring Austin as the stronger alpha. He doesn’t realize that we don’t need to resort to violence to make him regret waking up this morning.”
“He’s been through plenty tonight. We’ll leave him alone.”
“Sure, say that now when yer on the sober side of that bottle. Once yer a fan of the el’ gargles, your tune will change.”
Donna, the cute twenty-something who worked in a wine-tasting room on the main strip and who turned into a rather gross rat, practically danced down the inside of the bar, a big smile on her pretty face. “Hiya, Jessie.” She waved as she hustled by. “Quite a night, huh?”
From right behind me I heard, “Hey.”
I jumped, spun, and blasted out a pulse of magic. The room at large groaned, someone shrieked, and the chatter died away. Everyone doubled over, as though a bomb had gone off and they were dropping for cover.
Everyone except for Austin. He didn’t flinch, but every muscle on his very impressive body was clenched, including his jaw.
“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. I lifted my voice. “Sorry! Austin startled me. My bad.”
After a silent beat, movement and chatter picked back up again, and Austin rolled his shoulders. “Ouch.”
“Why would anyone in their right mind want to attack her?” someone said into the din, everyone straightening up.
A little glow infused my middle. That was a nice thing to say—it meant I was getting better.
“I didn’t even feel it.” Niamh took a sip. “It’s good to be on the inside, Austin Steele. You should try it. Then she’ll protect you instead of battering you around. She’s getting stronger. That el’ gargoyle is doing his job.”
“Sorry,” I repeated, trying to scoot over to make some room and bumping into Sasquatch. He scowled but didn’t budge.
“It’s fine, I’ll stand.” Austin pushed in a little closer.
“Hey, listen, sorry about what happened earlier,” I said, wanting to clear the air. “I didn’t realize about you and Damarion. You know, the whole alpha thing. I didn’t know he’d cause a problem.”
“It’s not your fault. Thanks for giving me a good reason not to destroy my bar.”
“What reason was that?”
“No one would begrudge me for granting a beautiful woman her request, now would they?” He smiled at me, and his hard exterior thawed. “I can’t have him coming in here anymore, though. If we have Ivy House or town issues to discuss and you need your whole team there, we’ll have to do it on Ivy House soil.”
“Sure, yeah. No problem.”
His gaze flicked to my lips and then he looked away, his jaw clenching. “You still have some lipstick…” He pointed to his upper lip. “In case you want to fix it.”
“Of course I want to—” I grabbed another bar napkin. “Really, Niamh? You couldn’t let a friend know that she looked like a clown?”
“Oh sorry, I wasn’t payin’ attention.” She put an empty bottle at the edge of the bar. Donna swept it up as she passed by, then dropped it in the recycling bin, delivered a drink, and grabbed an order—all with quick economy.
“Hire that woman full time,” Niamh said. “Fire that donkey that works on Wednesdays and hire her.”
“Listen, Jess…” Austin moved in a little closer still, his side bumping my shoulder, heat shivering through my body. The gravity of his voice set me on edge. “I’m one hundred percent positive those mages yesterday were trying to capture you. They wanted to get rid of your team and make the grab when Ivy House couldn’t protect you. The mage I caught was shocked as hell I was there, meaning they didn’t expect any ground interference, and I’m sure they didn’t expect the gargoyles to show up—”
“Speaking of gargoyles showing up…” I recognized Ulric’s chipper voice. “We’re directly behind you, alpha. Thought you should know. We’re here to watch the miss.”
“The miss?” I asked, trying to look around Austin to see Ulric’s face. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
“That clown Earl put that nonsense into their heads,” Niamh grumbled.
“I know you’re there and why,” Austin said, “but this town doesn’t use the title of alpha for me. They call me Austin Steele.”
“All due respect, you’re not the sort of guy that can hide his status, but if that’s what we’re doing…”
“I’ll be with you in a moment,” Austin said, and my small hairs stood on end at his rough tone.
“Yes, sir.” I could just see Ulric shifting behind Austin, his hands clasped in front of him.
I wasn’t used to seeing this side of Austin, the one ready to subdue anyone who created turbulence. His gruffness sparked a strange excitement deep within me, an unexpected thrill, primal and unguarded. It invigorated the hidden part of me that wanted to fight for dominance—and also to let go and feel the rush of being dominated.
“You okay?” Niamh asked me. “You look a little flushed.”
I cleared my throat and dabbed at my face. “Just hot. Forgot to control my body temperature with my magic.”
“They had a good plan yesterday, and a poor execution,” Austin said, reaching between Niamh and me to grab a beer Paul was offering. His scent, clean cotton and something spicy, grabbed me.
Freaking Damarion had gotten me all hot and bothered, and now I was noticing heat and smells and things I’d rather ignore.
“Oops, ye seem to have turned the dial the wrong way again.” Niamh’s look was shrewd. “Yer face is practically on fire. Is the thermostat broken? Yer too young for menopause…”
I rolled my eyes at her as Austin frowned at us.
“I’ll say they had a poor execution…” I put my drink down, my mind coming back online. “Their magical net broke in midair. If not for Mr. Tom and Damarion, I would’ve died on the rocks. Some plan.”
“If I may…” Ulric stepped closer to Niamh’s back. “They might’ve assumed she would be flying. Or at least floundering. Gargoyles are born with wings, and because they’re present at all times, at least for us men, we have a certain affinity for them. As soon as we shift into gargoyle form, our wings are mostly ready to go. Flapping them is natural—you don’t have to learn that. Controlling them isn’t easy, at first, but it would be reasonable to assume a new gargoyle could at least slow down enough to prevent herself from dying on the rocks.”
“So it’s harder for me because I’m not a true gargoyle?” I asked.