Magical Midlife Dating (Leveling Up 2)

“No, Damarion!” I tried to struggle out, tried to toss magic between him and the attack, but my counterstrike must’ve missed, because he grunted and pushed forward from the force of the attack. Immediately he started to sink down, releasing me as he hit his knees. “No!”

I touched his shoulder, pain curling within me. He was terrible at romance, but he was a decent guy and a great warrior. He didn’t deserve to go down on my watch.

The telltale fizzing in my belly—the feeling I attributed to healing magic—came as a relief.

His wings wilted, and I stepped out from behind them as more gargoyles tried to get out of the cavern. The mage in the middle was, thankfully, sinking to her knees, screeching, as Niamh bit into her jugular.

The one on the right waved her hands, probably creating a spell, but the one on the left already had her hands jutting out—open fire.

I slapped magic at her, deadening whatever bit of nastiness she was unleashing as Austin rushed forward, a deep and vicious growl riding his movements.

Another zip of magic pulled my attention right, and I braced myself to take the hit.

A snarl interrupted my flinch, and my magic sparkled to life in front of me, forming what I hoped to be another shield. I needed a lot more practice to identify all this stuff.

Arms swinging and vicious canines bared, the basajaun materialized just inside the pine branches, his hair reminiscent of an eighties hair band and his continued growls terrifying.

The mage recoiled, understandably, and her spell blasted the rock to my right. A pink gargoyle’s arm wrapped around me, and he pumped his wings in an attempt to lift me out of there.

“Would you guys just stop?” I yelled, blasting Ulric back. “Thank you, but I can fight!”

The basajaun reached for the mage and picked her up by the head—and then I had second thoughts about being flown out of there. The splat of the body against the rocks made me retch. The way he then spiked her detached head like a football had me splashing the contents of my stomach onto the ground.

“Oh God, maybe I don’t want to fight. This is too much for me.” I struggled to stand up, trying to stay strong in the face of such unbridled brutality, only to see Austin rise up on his back legs, his height topping the basajaun’s by three feet or more. He swiped with his huge paw, battering the last mage standing. She slapped the stone wall, something cracking. He lumbered forward, pinned her with his paws, bent, and ripped her neck out.

A tortured groan escaped my mouth. I burped up bile. “All right, then, sure. Yeah, let’s fly away. Good idea.”

But Ulric was no longer trying to save me. He bent over Damarion, his hand on the other gargoyles shoulder, checking in.

Damarion was healing, though—I could feel my efforts working. That part of magic I was close to having down.

The roar of victory from my right made me flinch. Austin’s answering roar, delivered while he still stood on his hind legs, shook my bones. The gargoyles joined in, their wings flapping, their growls vicious.

The basajaun wasted no more time. He crossed through everyone, shoving gargoyles out of the way, and bent to the flowers. Straightening with them, he turned to me, and everyone fell silent to hear what he would say.

“We have reached our agreement. These will be a wonderful treat.”

“But…” I put out a finger, happy for his help but hoping for a little clarity about the rules. After witnessing his display of violence, that seemed of the utmost importance. “The mages were on your territory when they shouldn’t have been, right? Wouldn’t you have…spiked her head anyway?”

“Yes. But I would not have waited around after you had gone into the cave. I did that to make sure no one snuck up on you.”

“Riiight… But they did sneak up on us.”

“The polar bear smelled me.”

“Okay, but—”

“He knew that I could only be in that position if I was stalking prey. It was all the alert he needed.”

“Except he wasn’t—”

“Then I enacted my punishment for their trespassing. I only ever kill one for the first offense.”

I couldn’t do much more than stare. His smell alert would’ve been great if it had informed us of the problem before the mages had stepped out of the trees. His retribution would’ve been amazing if it had come before Damarion had been injured.

As if hearing my thoughts, Mr. Tom said, “Duu-mm azzz roc-ksss.”

Dumb as rocks. I had to agree with him there.

“Right. Fine.” I sagged with sudden fatigue, my stomach still churning. “They’re dead. Clearly. Horribly so, even. Good day to you.” I peeled away my meager clothing, changed to my gargoyle form, and took off flying. I needed a glass of wine. And maybe a sedative.