Magical Midlife Love (Leveling Up 4)

“You’re choosing his side,” I said to Ivy House. Usually her wooden carvings were of battle and death and heads on spikes or, if she was feeling less vicious, magical creatures in fantastical situations. She’d never displayed such a pretty, mundane scene. She always, however, liked to poke the bear and create images that would mess with me in some way.

“Yes.”

Understanding dawned. “You knew this was going on, and you didn’t mention it…”

“Obviously. I’ve been dormant for much too long. All of the guardians have. I need you alive, and the magical link gives them the ability to keep you safe. This was always in your best interest. Any magical person would’ve known that.”

“Which I’ve acknowledged. My arrangement with Austin was a bit different, though. I trusted him to be honest, and he purposely deceived me. I have every right to be pissed.”

“By all means. Kick his head in. Just don’t kill him. I need him. He’s the best chance you have at long-term survival. Above all others, above the mage that came earlier today, Austin is the man that I need the most. That you need. So give him hell, but let him explain. Unless his explanation is bad. Then let him use his mouth in other ways that will be much more enjoyable than talking.”

I frowned at her. She was entirely too focused on getting me laid.

“I will get to the root of that link so I control it from my end.”

“I don’t doubt you. Ultimately, that power is yours above mine. Above theirs. If you’d just put your big-girl pants on and do the blood oath, you’d realize that the links you share are as much for them as they are for you. If they are ever in trouble, you will need those links to find them. To save them. You are a team, and you are stronger together.”

“I don’t need to give blood to want to save my crew if they are in trouble. That’s a given.”

“Then why are you so hesitant to take the oath?”

A wave of unease washed through me, the price tag of forever weighing on me heavily. When Ivy House started making chicken sounds—“bawk, bawk, bawwwwwk”—I cut off the communication. She could be insufferable.

Reemerging into reality, I realized Edgar was talking, and likely had been the whole time I was communicating with the house.

“Yes, a real vampire. I’m one of the oldest alive.” He smiled, his canines long and gruesome. “Usually when a vampire is turned out of their clan for being too old, they are hunted for sport and killed for fun. I found Ivy House, though. They don’t think I’m great sport for some reason.”

“Probably because you keep asking to be retired,” Mr. Tom said. “It’s no fun when the prey asks for it.”

Retired meant killed permanently. Every time Edgar made a mistake, which was pretty often, he insisted that I kill him. It would’ve been a running joke if he didn’t actually mean it.

“What was in that soda?” Jimmy asked softly. “I feel like I’m on acid or something.” He rubbed his eyes, watching the wooden tableau move and shift, less like wooden carvings and more like a TV screen.

“Shall we?” Mr. Tom put his fingers on the buttons of his jacket, awaiting my directions. “I want to bring in Master Jimmy’s things and get his room set up.”

“Just call him Jimmy, Mr. Tom. And yes, that’s fine. Edgar…” I motioned for him.

Edgar puffed into a swarm of insects.

“Holy—” Jimmy staggered backward. “What just happened? Seriously, was there something in that soda? Did I take an edible and not know it?”

So my son had tried edibles and hallucinogens—that was something I could’ve gone my whole life happily not knowing.

After a deep breath, I motioned for Mr. Tom to hurry up.

A hidden door popped open down the way, Ivy House wanting to show off her stuff as well.

“No, no. Why is he dropping trou?” Jimmy asked, backed against the door.

“Hold off,” I told Ivy House. “Let’s give him a second to adjust. Show him the hidden tunnels and whatever else after he’s gotten used to the idea. He’ll like it better by then.”

The hidden door down the way clicked shut again. For once, she agreed with me.

The sound of boulders moving and scraping against each other filled the space. Mr. Tom, in his birthday suit, bent slowly, his skin mottling from pasty white to a deep coal as it hardened into a tough hide. His wings rose behind his back, taking shape and stretching out before he pulled them back in, something he could do even while changing forms. Large teeth protruded from his pronounced jaw, and his ears rose to points within his growing black hair.

“What in the…” Jimmy’s breath went out of him. His mouth hung open and his wide eyes took in the slow transformation from man to gargoyle.