I let my words trail away, realizing I was babbling. Turned out it was even harder to ask for help and face rejection than to tell someone they were no longer needed. I had to work on all of this.
He stood, his gaze still rooted to mine, and turned for the door.
I deflated. That stung a little. I’d figured there was a fifty/fifty chance of him refusing, but I hadn’t expected such an abrupt rejection. Usually he was a little more personable than that.
As he opened the door and walked out, I glared at the wooden carving on the mantelpiece. “Nice going, taunting him with the doll head. What’s wrong with you?”
Doors opened and closed upstairs. I could sense the little doll bodies flopping around in their room.
I stuck out a warning finger, about ready to deliver a threat, when I felt Austin turn the opposite way I’d been expecting. I pushed up quickly and followed, catching him in the hallway headed toward the back of the house.
“What’d he say?” Mr. Tom called from the stairs, holding the renegade doll head.
I ignored him, my chest tightening as I watched Austin turn the corner. He maintained his pace, and I stopped breathing altogether as he approached the door to the Council Room. There he hesitated, and I bit my lip, giving him space, disbelief and hope raging through me.
When he crossed the threshold, my heart thundered in my chest.
It felt like hooks lodged in my middle and pulled, reeling me into the room after him.
“I made a deal with myself,” he said as he stood just inside the doorway, waiting for me. He didn’t turn my way. “If you still wanted my help, I would accept the magic and a place on your team. I would accept the responsibility to guard and protect you, navigating all the strings attached to this weird house. I decided that if you gave me the honor of choosing me, I would unite this house with the town, and spread out my influence to the surrounding areas. I’d create and run a territory that would help secure you and your home. I decided that I would finally wear the title of alpha, come what may.”
He turned toward me, his large shoulders stretching his white T-shirt and his handsome face showing his grim determination. It was clear he was sacrificing his earlier stance on the magic and this house because I needed him. The guy was as selfless as they came, and if I hadn’t needed him so badly, I would have shooed him out of the Council Room.
I did need him, though. We all needed him—this house, this town, even the tourists. When the crap rolled in, there were very few people who could balance everything effectively and maintain order. Austin was an incredible person and an incredible leader. No matter how many people I summoned, I didn’t think I’d ever find someone better, not with his level of experience. Definitely not with his loyalty and sense of honor. He only demanded of the people he governed what he demanded of himself.
“I am honored you accept,” I whispered, rapidly blinking away the tears clouding my vision. “Thank you.”
He nodded, and his jaw and hands clenched. “The house is trying to make me walk to a specific chair.”
“Oh, wait. Wait a minute!” Mr. Tom said, standing at the door. I hadn’t noticed—he just blended into the scenery at this stage. He was the house’s white noise. “Let me go get the others. Wait, what am I saying—Ivy House, summon the others! It’s happening. Austin Steele is becoming one of us and getting a chair! It’s actually happening!”
“I could’ve lived my whole life without hearing that I was becoming like Earl,” Austin murmured.
Mr. Tom dropped the doll head he was still holding and ran from the room. “Wait for us,” he yelled over his shoulder.
The doll head bounced and rolled toward me, its eyes moving and its stringy red hair flapping around unnaturally.
“No!” I made the door slam, trying to force it out. The edge hit the face and bounced back as if the doll were made of rubber. The head rolled until it was facing me, a little tilted, its eyes staring at me and a sneaky grin on its pink-painted lips. “Gross.”
“I already regret this,” Austin said.
“Ivy House, this isn’t funny!”
Niamh approached the door wearing the black sweats she’d had to order herself, which was probably why they were two sizes too big, and stopped, looking down on the doll head. “What in the… Why is a doll’s head lyin’ around?” She squinted at me. “What’s wrong witch’ye?”
“Throw that thing in the incinerator.” I motioned at the head as Mr. Tom returned carrying a silver tray laden with glasses of champagne.
“Ivy House is taking the piss, is it?” Niamh stepped to the other side of the head and kicked it down the hall. “It seems to have a fascination with rolling doll heads lately.”