“It’s not your fault. Thanks for giving me a good reason not to destroy my bar.”

“What reason was that?”

“No one would begrudge me for granting a beautiful woman her request, now would they?” He smiled at me, and his hard exterior thawed. “I can’t have him coming in here anymore, though. If we have Ivy House or town issues to discuss and you need your whole team there, we’ll have to do it on Ivy House soil.”

“Sure, yeah. No problem.”

His gaze flicked to my lips and then he looked away, his jaw clenching. “You still have some lipstick…” He pointed to his upper lip. “In case you want to fix it.”

“Of course I want to—” I grabbed another bar napkin. “Really, Niamh? You couldn’t let a friend know that she looked like a clown?”

“Oh sorry, I wasn’t payin’ attention.” She put an empty bottle at the edge of the bar. Donna swept it up as she passed by, then dropped it in the recycling bin, delivered a drink, and grabbed an order—all with quick economy.

“Hire that woman full time,” Niamh said. “Fire that donkey that works on Wednesdays and hire her.”

“Listen, Jess…” Austin moved in a little closer still, his side bumping my shoulder, heat shivering through my body. The gravity of his voice set me on edge. “I’m one hundred percent positive those mages yesterday were trying to capture you. They wanted to get rid of your team and make the grab when Ivy House couldn’t protect you. The mage I caught was shocked as hell I was there, meaning they didn’t expect any ground interference, and I’m sure they didn’t expect the gargoyles to show up—”

“Speaking of gargoyles showing up…” I recognized Ulric’s chipper voice. “We’re directly behind you, alpha. Thought you should know. We’re here to watch the miss.”

“The miss?” I asked, trying to look around Austin to see Ulric’s face. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“That clown Earl put that nonsense into their heads,” Niamh grumbled.

“I know you’re there and why,” Austin said, “but this town doesn’t use the title of alpha for me. They call me Austin Steele.”

“All due respect, you’re not the sort of guy that can hide his status, but if that’s what we’re doing…”

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” Austin said, and my small hairs stood on end at his rough tone.

“Yes, sir.” I could just see Ulric shifting behind Austin, his hands clasped in front of him.

I wasn’t used to seeing this side of Austin, the one ready to subdue anyone who created turbulence. His gruffness sparked a strange excitement deep within me, an unexpected thrill, primal and unguarded. It invigorated the hidden part of me that wanted to fight for dominance—and also to let go and feel the rush of being dominated.

“You okay?” Niamh asked me. “You look a little flushed.”

I cleared my throat and dabbed at my face. “Just hot. Forgot to control my body temperature with my magic.”

“They had a good plan yesterday, and a poor execution,” Austin said, reaching between Niamh and me to grab a beer Paul was offering. His scent, clean cotton and something spicy, grabbed me.

Freaking Damarion had gotten me all hot and bothered, and now I was noticing heat and smells and things I’d rather ignore.

“Oops, ye seem to have turned the dial the wrong way again.” Niamh’s look was shrewd. “Yer face is practically on fire. Is the thermostat broken? Yer too young for menopause…”

I rolled my eyes at her as Austin frowned at us.

“I’ll say they had a poor execution…” I put my drink down, my mind coming back online. “Their magical net broke in midair. If not for Mr. Tom and Damarion, I would’ve died on the rocks. Some plan.”

“If I may…” Ulric stepped closer to Niamh’s back. “They might’ve assumed she would be flying. Or at least floundering. Gargoyles are born with wings, and because they’re present at all times, at least for us men, we have a certain affinity for them. As soon as we shift into gargoyle form, our wings are mostly ready to go. Flapping them is natural—you don’t have to learn that. Controlling them isn’t easy, at first, but it would be reasonable to assume a new gargoyle could at least slow down enough to prevent herself from dying on the rocks.”

“So it’s harder for me because I’m not a true gargoyle?” I asked.

“Jess, do you mind?” Austin grabbed the back of my stool and the base before pausing to look at me, his face inches from mine.

“What?” I leaned away, against the bar.

“I’m just going to turn you to make more room.”

“Oh sure, yeah. Have at it.” I meant to get up, but he’d already pulled the stool up off the ground with me on it, his muscles barely flexing with the weight. He set me down so my back was to Sasquatch, my side to the bar.

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