“And here I thought you weren’t chatty.”
He wiggled in his chair a little, the only time he’d really moved since sitting down, other than bending forward and looking aloof. “You say this town is in chaos. This is a normal magical town to me. The strong prey on the weak. The weak get out of the way. Law and order is present to some degree, but only when the powers that be feel like keeping the peace.”
“Well. If ye hang around, you’ll see what a well-functioning town looks like. Austin Steele will sort it all out.”
He was quiet for a moment. “You’ve heard of Momar?”
She squinted, trying to place that name. “A powerful mage, yeah? Last I heard, he was organizing his forces to take over the crime world from Elliot Graves.”
“Your information is outdated. He has mostly taken over the crime world. Elliot Graves has slunk into the shadows. I heard he’s doing just enough to get by. His defenses are up, so no one can get to him, but he hasn’t been pulling jobs or leading teams. He’s a has-been.”
Niamh couldn’t help but give him a funny look. That account didn’t match with what Ivy House had seen. Was someone throwing Elliot Graves’s name around to push them off the true scent of whoever had been behind the attacks?
“No, Momar is mostly in power now,” the mage said. “He is considered the most powerful mage in the world, not because of his magic—that title still belongs to Elliot Graves, no matter how hollow it is—but because of his holdings, his money, and his magical influence.”
“What’s yer point?”
“He is so powerful that he should fear very little, but he hates shifters. Hates them. When he can, he destroys entire packs.”
Niamh frowned. She’d been hibernating in this small town for far too long. She hadn’t heard any of that. Knowledge of the magical world had gotten away from her, probably because she’d been contemplating retirement before Jessie had shown up. If she stuck her head out of this little divot in the ground, she wouldn’t recognize the politics of today. That could be a dangerous situation for Jessie. With as much power as she’d inherited, she was part of the magical world, like it or not.
Niamh needed to amend this gaping hole in her knowledge. Become the expert she used to be.
“Why is that, then?” she asked.
“I’ve always wondered that very thing. What if it’s all rooted in fear? Fear of their strength, of their courage and loyalty to each other. It doesn’t hurt that Momar’s father was killed by one. From what I’ve read, it sounded like Pappy Dearest got what he deserved—he’d been bleeding the town dry in taxes, forcing the hungry and desperate to rise up against his tyranny. Regardless, Momar would like to rid the world of shifters, but if he kills too many too fast, they will band together. I am starting to understand just how dangerous that would be for him.” The mage went on watching Austin Steele. “So instead, he’s been drumming up reasons to attack smaller packs. Still, it’s only a matter of time before he develops the resources to go after the larger ones.”
“And ye think this guy will see Austin Steele as a small pack to go after?”
“I don’t know. If the alpha is as good as you say, now would be the time to act, before he gets his feet under him. But who knows of this town? No one. I’d always thought it belonged strictly to Dicks and Janes. I was utterly confused by the summons.”
“It mostly used to. Things are changing quickly now, though.”
“Yes. One hopes, then, that it becomes powerful before Momar realizes the threat.”
Niamh looked at her glass without comment. This new crime boss wouldn’t just be interested in Austin Steele—Jessie would add to the flavor. Clearly they needed to keep this area as low profile as possible for as long as possible. Keep their heads down and plod along, building strength quietly.
She needed to mention all this to Austin Steele, and also tell him to keep an eye on this new mage. He seemed okay, but he could be influencing them with magic. Until Jessie was up to speed, there was no way to tell. If he was gathering information for someone, they could be in a world of hurt.
Especially if his boss was Momar.
“I am almost tickled to see how it all turns out,” the mage mumbled, as though to himself, ever mindful of Austin Steele. “If I live that long, obviously.”
“Why wouldn’t ye?”
“You’ve already mentioned killing me. It sounds like I don’t have great odds of leaving this town alive.”
Niamh looked over his plain face, the button nose the only cute thing about him. His messy hair, sticking up every which way. His expressionless eyes, not the dimmest twinkle within them. “I can’t tell if yer jokin’.”