“Saving her was part of the ritual?” Kace’s brows pinched together.
“I’ve always heard that when female gargoyles are locking in a mate, they wait for the male to prove his ability,” Ulric explained. “What better way than to bust into an enemy stronghold and save her, huh? She was right on the cusp—if he’d known more about the dance, he would’ve known that would set her off.”
“Not like it would’ve changed anything.” Kace walked closer and plopped into a cushy sage chair.
“Oh. Here you go.” Edgar bustled forward, his doily outstretched. “Here, this will help.” He took away the malformed doily currently graffitiing the arm of the chair and exchanged it for the newly finished monstrosity, three sizes bigger than a normal one. “This one is better.”
“Than what?” Ulric asked in bewilderment, watching.
Kace somehow ignored the disastrously crocheted item. “She handled things the right way. She stepped back so Broken Sue could confront his demons—”
“Are we all calling him Broken Sue now?” Edgar asked. “I worried that he might take offense and rip my arms off if I called him that without any of the enemy around.”
“It’s a good name.” Niamh nodded. “He wouldn’t rip off your arms because you offended him, though. That would be his reaction to the way ye always lope around like a gobshite.”
“Yes. I can see that,” he replied, retreating to his corner.
“Speaking of Brochan, how’s he doing?” Mr. Tom asked. “Does he need something to eat?”
“He’s got whiskey. He’ll be grand.” Niamh leaned forward and tossed the magazine onto the nearest coffee table. “Hard not to believe fate played a role in sending him here, eh? After wandering around the country, he found himself in the one place where he could confront the person that tore down his life.”
“Maybe the basajaun was right about those stars,” Ulric murmured.
“Whatever the reason, he’s a damn good addition to the pack.” Kace leaned back. “He’s fierce, experienced, and smart. He’s got great control.”
“Worried you’ll lose yer job?” Niamh gave him a wicked grin.
“I’m not worried about anything,” Kace answered seriously. He spread his arm over the back of his chair, and Mr. Tom wondered if that was because it was the only place not littered with Edgar’s failed attempts at craftwork. “Whatever is best for the pack.”
Goosebumps spread across Mr. Tom’s skin again as another pulse rolled through the suite, this one more powerful than the last. Ulric and Nathanial both shifted, as if to move to standing, then pushed out a simultaneous breath and leaned back.
“It probably makes it worse that we’re under a mountain,” Jasper said from the back.
“Amen.” Ulric ran his fingers through his hair. “Tomorrow is the battle, though. She should be able to let off some steam. Maybe it’ll also shift some of her focus off the mating dance.”
“The only problem is, Cyra torched everyone we were supposed to fight tomorrow,” Edgar said. “We can’t even drive sticks through them and prop them up to give the illusion they’re alive.”
The room paused and looked at Edgar. There was that endearing creepiness he did so well.
“Well.” Mr. Tom rose as a shock of hunger pierced him through the link. The miss was coming up for air and needed some sustenance. Time for an early dinner. “Either we will face the winner of today’s battle, or we will face an angry Elliot Graves. Either way, we’ll do battle, and we’ll be one step closer to our goal. Our time in this mountain is almost done.”
Twenty-Three
I emerged from the room in my muumuu and leaned against the wall before breathing a sigh.
“I feel good,” I said to the room at large.
“You look good.” Austin stopped beside me, taking a moment to slide his hand across my back and hook it around my hip. He pulled me nearer and kissed my temple before heading to the kitchen.
I smiled and breathed another sigh of utter relaxation.
Which was odd, because I had gotten virtually no sleep last night (having reveled in Austin), and the Chambers thing had gone down less than twenty-four hours ago. We’d gotten a note from Elliot himself this time, changing our opponent for today’s battle from Chambers to the winner of yesterday, since “a freak cave firestorm seems to have taken out Chambers and his crew—beware those strange phenomena.”
Obviously that meant Elliot was just letting us off the hook. Which was disconcerting in itself—what was his motive? What else did he have planned for me?
And then there was the fact that Kingsley might be in trouble, and we’d obviously join him, heading to his aid.
But man, none of it was sticking in my mind. It was like everything that didn’t directly relate to Austin and mating was not important.
This bubble would pop very soon, I knew. But for this one last moment, I intended to savor it.