Niamh knew Ulric’s name, but since he wasn’t officially on the team, she treated him like an intern. It was actually quite hilarious.
“She tried to hit Ulric with a potato…” There were at least five follow-up questions Austin needed to ask, but his mind split in too many directions to grab one of them.
“Yeah. He startled her, and she grabbed the closest thing at hand.” Niamh huffed out a laugh. “Would’ve hit him in the face, too. Slow, though. He saw it coming.”
“She’s an older Jane.”
“Yeah. Who hasn’t battled. Good aim, though. And did ye hear the el’ lad the other day? Gettin’ ready to grab a rock himself and help me with those tourists?” She nodded slowly. “Jessie comes from fire.”
“We could’ve guessed.”
“It’s funnier to see it in action.”
He had to concede that.
“Edgar told you what the spell was?” he asked her, getting them back on track.
“Yeah, the tripwire. He’s thinking the base spell is a simple tattletale situation. Anyone crosses the line, and the spell weaver—Jessie, obviously—will be alerted. The trespasser won’t be the wiser.”
“The base spell. So she could alter it, then?”
“He thinks so, yeah.” She paused at the threshold to Ivy House’s property line, turning back to look over the street like he’d just done. He wasn’t sure why she was dragging her feet.
He wasn’t sure why he was, either.
“The text will draw out her ability to create the spell, but she’ll need to alter it on her own,” Niamh said.
“That’s for the best. Start with something non-dangerous, and then work at changing it through study and practice.”
She made a dismissive gesture. “All this learning magic is bollocks. It would be easier if she came already knowing everything so she could start throwing her weight around.”
“Weren’t you the one talking about retiring?”
“That was before I got the energy of youth—”
“Martha!” Pete’s voice rang out across the front yard, originating from an open window on the second floor. “Martha, your glasses are in here!”
“Oh, how’d you get that window open?” Martha’s face appeared behind the screen. “I tried earlier and it wouldn’t budge.”
“I didn’t open it. It was open when I got up here. You must’ve gotten it open and forgot. Do you know how to work that shower?”
“Yes. Turn it toward H. For hot.” Her voice drifted away as she probably moved into the bathroom to show him, clearly not having seen Austin and Niamh standing on the sidewalk.
“Or Ivy House opened it for them when they weren’t paying attention,” Niamh murmured, head tilted up, watching the newly empty window. “I don’t trust that house not to cause a little mischief.”
“You think Ivy House is going to out Jess?” Austin asked.
Niamh’s gaze roamed the large expanse of the building. “Maybe not out her, but it’s already messing with them. The images in the wooden carvings changed at least twice yesterday evening, and I only noticed because her el’ lad was staring. He thought something was off, I could surely tell. Didn’t pass any remarks, though. Noticed, then looked away. If I had to bet on it, I’ll say that Ivy House will aim for something a little more obvious just to see what happens. This is the same house that likes to send people sprinting out of it in horror.”
Austin had to concede that point. Despite technically being an inanimate object, the house had a mind of its own.
He took a deep breath and eyed the front door. Time to get the show on the road.
“Dreading going in there, huh?” Niamh said.
Yes. Because, if he was being really honest with himself, he knew that once he went in, he wouldn’t want to leave. Heading home alone lately had seemed like a punishment. His solo lifestyle wasn’t a comfort to him anymore. He kept reaching for the phone, wanting to talk to Jess or invite her to the bar, even on his nights off. Maybe especially on his nights off, when he could devote more time to her. He’d never had a friend like her, even when he was younger. He’d never thought about anyone this much.
He’d never been so wary of someone changing his life so completely since walking away from Destiny, the woman who had nearly ruined him.
“Dreading trying out Jess’s spell and potentially getting blown up again,” he deflected.
A motor started up from somewhere behind Ivy House.
“Ah, here. C’mere. This’ll take your mind off things.” Niamh plucked at his shirt.
He glanced at the front door, feeling Jess moving around inside, somewhat annoyed, probably from dealing with Mr. Tom or maybe her parents. He felt the pull of her, the need to be with her, to train her. Coaxing the magic out of her and watching her shape it into something magnificent… He was probably the luckiest man on earth. Every time they trained, he could see envy in the faces of the gathered gargoyles, wishing they’d been granted the rare privilege. Probably envious of Jess’s smiles when she mastered a particularly complex spell, or the way she fawned over him when she hit him with something nasty. The pain was worth her apologies, worth her touch as she inspected the damage, worth the pleasing feel of her magic as she healed his ailments.
He blew out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yeah, okay.” He started after Niamh, who surprised him by heading for the side of the house. “Where are we going?”
“Edgar is going to mow the yard.” Niamh picked up the pace.
He didn’t bother asking why he should care. Why she did. The people of this house were strange. Jessie had told him it was easier to roll with it, and he’d found that to be true.
At the property line, he paused for a brief moment before finally stepping over it. Almost immediately, he felt a surge of recognition from Jess, followed by…dare he say pleasure? She was happy he had come.
He hated how good that felt.
At the back corner of the house, Niamh crouched beside a large bush with blooming red and white flowers. About fifty feet away, on what looked like his second trip across the lush green grass, Edgar pushed an older-style lawn mower, green flying up in its wake, coating his purple sweats. Pollen tickled Austin’s nose, and the overwhelming floral scent slapped around his senses. The vampire had gone way overboard with the flowers. Way overboard. The basajaun eating up the garden had addled the vampire’s brain. Further addled it, he should say.
“Why doesn’t Edgar get a mower that has a bag to catch the grass?” he asked. “Or hell, get a ride-on mower. Mowing all this grass and the lawn up front must take him forever.”
“If there is anything that vampire has, it is time. He likes to fill up his days. He mows, then he rakes up the fresh-cut grass, then he prunes, then he fancies around with the flowers…”
“He should probably spend more time learning to make doilies if he ever hopes to get one halfway decent.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Seen those, did ye? Yeah, he’s hopeless. I burn ’em in the winter just so he has a reason to give me more. It keeps him busy.”
Something metallic clattered within the mower. Edgar paused and stared down at the machine for a moment before looking behind him.
“Keep moving, ye gobshite. A little farther. Don’t get suspicious,” Niamh murmured, riveted to Edgar.
“What are you hoping for?” Austin whispered.
“Just wait,” she said.
Another object clattered through the mower, followed by a third, pinging and clacking around the parts before rattling out the back and flying up at Edgar’s body. More followed, sounding like metal popcorn popping. The vampire yelped and then jumped before pushing the handle forward again, staring at the grass in front of the mower.
Niamh began to chuckle. “Janey Mack. Only he would keep going.”
A flurry of pings and pops now, more foreign objects rolling through the cutters and gears of the lawn mower. The sun caught their exit, glittering on metal, before what looked like a host of little spikes stabbed into Edgar’s legs.
He screamed and jumped, dancing in place like someone was shooting at his feet. He pushed the lawn mower forward again, sending another score of metal projectiles through the machine and at him. He shrank back from the onslaught but didn’t move to the side to get out of the way, opening himself up for some body shots, the small slices of metal stabbing into his stomach and upper arms.
“Nooo!” he howled, his face pointed toward the sky, but he persisted in pushing forward, doing nothing to stopper the flow.
The absurdity of the scene, and Niamh’s helpless laugher, brought forth chuckles from Austin.
In the house, he felt Jess run toward the back door, anxiety pooling within her. Someone (or several someones) was on her heels, though he couldn’t feel who. While he did have a magical connection of sorts to the other protectors, he barely felt them when he tried and not at all when he didn’t, and he didn’t have much of the ability to sense who moved around Ivy House. He wondered if that trait was only granted to people who actually lived on or near the property. He was fine doing without.
Finally stopped for a moment, Edgar plucked one of the items from his person and studied it for a moment. He slipped it into his pocket and looked down at his legs, the lawn mower idling, the rotors surely still turning in that older machine. In a feat of perseverance or stupidity or both, Edgar slowly grabbed the handle and bent to push it forward.
“He’s going ta keep going, the donkey.” Niamh leaned forward, shaking with laughter. “What is he at? He’s a fair queer one, all right.”
“What’s in the grass?”
“Nails.” She guffawed into her cupped hand. “I half hammered a bunch of nails into the ground.”
“Why?” he asked Niamh, utterly bewildered. Or maybe he was asking the question of the cosmos.