“You have a nice garden, huh?”
Clearly he wasn’t interested in discussing backyard mazes. It was probably a little too weird for his taste.
“Yes. Nice, big garden,” I said, just trying to go with the flow.
“That bed is awfully soft, the one in the guest room? I’m not used to soft beds. I kept waking up. Or maybe it was the thumping above me. Probably a rat. Old houses like this have lots of vermin. Our house had a mouse problem a while back. I’ll set some traps, don’t you worry. If there is one thing I know how to do, it’s how to get rid of vermin.”
“Oh no, no, that’s okay, Dad. Thanks. We don’t have rats. That might’ve been Mr. Tom, the butler. He was probably—”
His finger hovered over the remote, about to unmute the TV. “Is it Tom or Edgar?”
“Mr. Tom is the butler, and Edgar is the gardener. Remember the guy with the dentures?” Given Edgar’s issue with retracting his fangs, we’d called them out as malfunctioning dentures when he’d come in yesterday afternoon to meet the folks. Thankfully he hadn’t said much, keeping those chompers mostly under wraps.
“Oh yeah, the balding guy with dandruff. I use Head & Shoulders. Got rid of that problem. I told him so.” He snapped. “Earl. Irish lady called your butler Earl.”
“Yeah, Mr. Tom is kind of a nickname. He’d like it if you used that.”
My dad’s brows knitted together. He unmuted the TV and turned back to the fishing program. Apparently that didn’t make much sense to him, and now he planned to ignore it and the hedge maze both. Hopefully he did that for all the weird stuff he was bound to run into.
“Okay, well, let me know if you need anything,” I said.
My mother was in the kitchen, her half-moon glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she looked up at the top oven, the house having two stacked on top of each other.
“Hey, Mom.”
She glanced over, smiled, and then returned to studying the buttons. “You had a late one, huh? I’m just trying to figure out how to do the warm setting. Do you want some breakfast? I made enough for your butler and gardener and the Irish rock thrower, too, but the butler hasn’t come in since I started making breakfast, and none of the others have stopped by. How about your friend from last night? The big, burly man. He’s certainly handsome. Are you two dating?”
“Austin? No. It’s right here, Mom, the one that says ‘warm’ on it.” I pushed the button for her.
“Oh yeah. Warm. That’s a good hint.” She pulled open the oven and extracted the plates covered in grease-coated napkins. Why she was looking for the button to warm when about to take out the food was beyond me. “I couldn’t find any paper plates. I’ll get some at the store today.”
“No, it’s fine. We have real plates. Mr. Tom prefers—”
“And paper towels. You could use more paper towels. You don’t care what kind I get, do you?”
“No, honestly, Mom, it’s fine. Mr. Tom—”
Ulric popped into the doorway with a smile.
“Honey, look out!” My mother shoved me, grabbed a potato off the counter, and chucked it, all in a fast collection of somewhat rickety movements. Despite the way it was launched, that sucker flew true, directly for Ulric’s head.
“Holy—” Ulric bent to the side, batting the flying spud away. “I’m friendly! I’m friendly!”
“Martha, what’s going on in there?” my dad hollered from the other room.
“Mom, oh my God, he lives here!” Half shocked and half trying not to laugh, I put up my hands and danced between them. “That’s Ulric. He’s staying here for the moment. At the moment.”
“What?” She incrementally lowered the second potato, having reloaded in a hurry.
“I live here, ma’am.” Ulric stayed put, not attempting to step any farther into the kitchen.
The laughter finally bubbled over. “Really, Mom? A potato? You wouldn’t pick up a knife or something heavy…”
“Good aim, though.” Ulric beamed. “Now we know where Jessie gets her fierce streak. You should take up rock slinging with Niamh.”
My glare shut him up.
“Who is he?” my mom asked, finally lowering her weapon.
Jasper stepped in beside Ulric, his expression one of deep interest. “I smell bacon.”
I widened my eyes. It clearly took bacon to get him to say full sentences.
“Mom, meet Ulric and Jasper. Cedric—a youngish guy named Cedric—is also living here. At the moment.”
“Oh.” My mom dropped the potato onto the counter. “Well, it is a big house. And you didn’t get that much in the divorce settlement, did you? I guess it makes sense to take on a few roommates. But Jessie, why not just buy a smaller house? I’m sure there must be something you can afford in this area—”
“Oh no, ma’am, you have it all wrong.” Ulric took a seat at the island. “You see, we’re doing a sort of work exchange program. Jessie here has a large property—with extensive woods—and we’re all in the same doctorate program studying the global effect woods have on our ecosystem. Well, Jessie was nice enough to put us up for a few months so we can study her trees for the experience portion of our program.” He spread his arms with a smile. “Just a bunch of tree-hugging fellas, that’s us.”
Wow. Ulric was really good at making up stories on the fly.
“Austin recommended them,” I said, going with it. It probably should’ve occurred to me before now to have something worked out. “He looked into their backgrounds and everything.”
“Oh, Austin did?” She pondered that for a moment. “He seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.” Her gaze snagged on Ulric’s hair. “Well, I have some breakfast ready if you want some.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Yes, please.” Jasper joined Ulric at the island.
“Speaking of…” I leveled a pointer finger at them. “Austin wanted to check out some things later today. Trees. The woods, I mean.” I wasn’t great at lying. “He asked if I’d help. You guys should probably join.”
“Yeah, sure.” Ulric tracked my mom’s movements. “After breakfast.”
I just hoped I didn’t blow anyone else up. How would I explain a charred gargoyle to my parents?
Five
Austin stepped out of the Jeep, fatigue dragging at him. The bar was a lot busier now that he’d taken on the alpha role, people rolling in from all over, wanting to congregate in what they deemed the new magical epicenter of the area. Austin had had no idea the people around here were craving a larger magical presence. There wasn’t a strictly magical town for hundreds of miles, and no other alphas anywhere close. Or maybe they wanted a more organized magical presence. Whatever the reason, they’d been coming to the bar in droves, their presence signaling to Austin that he should extend his territory. So far, it was three towns, but given the growing patronage, soon it would probably be five.
He needed to establish a pack. Usually a territory didn’t grow this fast. People tended to balk from accepting a new authority figure. Of course, he wasn’t exactly new, and his situation was far from normal. He should’ve thought of that before making the switch.
“Can I be in your pack? I promise I won’t bring Mr. Tom.”
Goosebumps rolled across his skin, and he stopped just before stepping over Ivy House’s territory line.
“Give me a minute,” he murmured, hoping the house would hear him. It knew he was there because of his magical connection to it, but Jess wouldn’t. Not until he stepped over that invisible line. Out of habit, or maybe a respect for his privacy, she only tapped in to their magical connection if she was worried about him, or worried about herself and counting on him.
He hadn’t been so respectful of her privacy. He had his side of that magical connection open twenty-four seven, mostly out of fear for her safety. Without an established pack to watch the borders of the territory, she was open for attack. He’d gotten that wake-up call a few months ago when a few teams of mages had waltzed in, watched the town, and made off with its prize. Jess. He would not close the connection until she was ten times more secure.
The other reason? He didn’t really like thinking about that.
He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and turned toward the street, taking in the nice day and noticing the trunk on Jessie’s parents’ car wasn’t latched properly. As he walked over to inspect it, he saw the handmade bumper sticker—a piece of computer paper cut into a strip and taped on. It read:
I leave the trunk open
so the wife can breathe.
Surprised laughter bubbled up through him. Those two were a trip, so much different than the serious household he’d grown up in.
“Hey.” Niamh stepped out onto her porch, an empty sack in hand for carrying their clothes once they shifted. “What’re ye at?” She closed her door behind her. “Ye look like ye just got stabbed with a pitchfork, so ye do.”
He ambled toward her, in no hurry, soaking in the sun and the quiet street. “I’m good. Need to work with Jess on the new spell Edgar pulled from the book. Did he mention it?”
“Yes.” She paused next to her chair and checked her rocks. Seeing they were accounted for, she walked down her porch steps and across a little patch of cultivated grass Edgar must manage, because no way would Niamh be bothered. “He wouldn’t stop going on about it. He’s delighted the alpha of the town called him directly. He kept saying that—the alpha of the town—as though ye aren’t also a part of Ivy House. He thinks of ye as royalty, the muppet. The hemming and hawing out of him would drive a person mad.” She rolled her eyes. “Did ye hear?” Niamh commenced a slow pace across the street toward Ivy House.
“About what?”
“Jessie’s mom. Got startled by the pink-haired one and threw a potato at his head.”