Magical Midlife Meeting (Leveling Up 5)

“Ah yeah. Fate. Tricky bitch.”

“Yes. Very. But this basajaun has been incredibly helpful to have around.”

“It’s magic.” Jess stopped next to the open limo door, the driver waiting beside it in a tux similar to Mr. Tom’s. “What you’re all sensing is magic. It’s everywhere around here—on the runway, draped between the trees, on the ground… It’s basically an elaborate tripwire system, but I don’t sense anything terribly dangerous. Roam at will.”

“In other words, they think anyone sneaking into the area will be using an airplane,” Hollace said, following her.

“Yes.” Jess checked her watch. “We need to get going. Basajaun!” she called. “Come on. You can check things out when we get closer.”

The basajaun emerged from the trees, his hair sticking up from his shoulders and his bow tie absolutely ridiculous. He was taking a page out of Mr. Tom’s book, apparently.

“There is nothing around this area. No watchers,” he said.

“Magic is doing the watching. They don’t need people.” Jess gave the jet a final, forlorn look before ducking into the last limo. Her team would arrive right before her and spread out around her for cover so as to give her a grander entrance.

“Yes, miss, I know you are severely disappointed.” Mr. Tom walked closer, frazzled, his arms braced on his hips and his wings rustling behind him. Niamh and Edgar walked behind him. “But how was I supposed to know they wouldn’t stock the jets with snacks and drinks? Really, all that expense and they only provide water and ice? I think they cut corners for magical people, that’s what I think.”

“I think they expected magical people to read the fine print when that is their job,” Niamh berated as Jasper descended from the jet. He immediately turned to monitor the service staff carrying down the luggage.

“I looked over the fine print, I thought,” Mr. Tom murmured, turning and walking back toward Jasper, scanning the luggage as it was brought down and put in a neat pile to be divided up between the limos.

“Beautiful.” Cyra sauntered in front of Austin and spread her arms, gazing at the mountains around them. Fire ballooned up around her like wings. “I would love to take a moment for flight.”

“No time,” Austin responded. “We’ll make sure to take advantage of the area before we leave.”

“If we aren’t being chased out.” Edgar scratched his head, and little white flakes drifted to the ground.

Nathanial stopped with Austin and Brochan. “Barring any unforeseen challenges, the gargoyles from town should arrive tonight,” Nathanial said. “I haven’t heard of any problems, so I assume they are on track. They have been instructed to touch down a ways from the entrance. Hopefully there’ll be a place to land that is hard for non-fliers to reach. They’ll turn to stone until needed. I don’t know if we’ll be able to use them, but if we can, they’ll be on hand.”

Austin nodded as Cyra neared the trees, fire swirling out around her.

“Why didn’t we fly them in, sir?” Kace asked, joining their gathering. Brochan stepped back and out of the way, deferring to Kace’s higher standing in the pack. Isabelle stood just beyond him.

“Here, miss.” Mr. Tom jogged back to Jess’s limo with a paper bag in one hand and a white plastic medicine bottle in the other. “Look at this! I completely forgot about this! A few chocolates for the car ride.”

“Ye should’ve given them to her when she was looking for snacks on the plane.” Niamh started forward. “Ye ruined her whole experience.”

“Ah, but look!” Mr. Tom jiggled the bag, more flustered and panicked than Austin had ever seen him. The way he was carrying on, one might assume he’d made a critical error that would cost lives. “Chocolates, miss! They are only slightly melted. Well, not melted now, per se, but melted at one time and reformed into…rather lovely…artistic shapes. You won’t even taste the difference. A little whitened, but that’s okay. It’s still chocolate. I know how chocolate calms you. It’s like catnip for Jane women, right?”

“No thanks,” Jess said. “Let’s just get on the road. I’m sure they’ll have food for us when we get there.”

“Or, look…” Mr. Tom held out the white medicinal bottle. “Chocolate-flavored stool softener. It will taste good and maybe loosen up the bowels. I know you’ve been nervous. Stress can cause lots of problems for the body. This will keep you regular and fulfill that chocolate craving you were clearly having on the plane.”

All the shifters turned to stare, their expressions flat but their poise and body language screaming their utter bewilderment. Austin thought about reassuring them that they would eventually get used to Mr. Tom’s antics, but he didn’t want to lie. Apparently, when he got flustered, Mr. Tom not only got weirder, but he started making very questionable decisions.