“See anything?” I asked, slipping to the side of the window and quickly looking out. I had precious little time with Austin coming closer and my dad in the middle of the whole thing. It was clear my dad would not handle the idea of magic well, I needed to keep it away from him.
“Shhom une.” Ulric pointed.
Someone.
Shadows draped and pooled across the front and side yards of the house across the street from Niamh’s, still and quiet. No movement caught my eye. No glowing form.
“Gooone,” Cedric grunted out.
“Mr. Tom, see if Niamh saw it leave,” I said, getting one last look, squinting into the darkness. “If not, we’ll need to check it out. Cedric and Ulric, stay here until we call you. Don’t let my dad see you. I need clothes.”
So as not to dart past my father in the kitchen while naked, I ran upstairs, threw on some house sweats and a t-shirt, and tore back down and out the back door.
“No running in the house,” my father called after me, clearly on autopilot. Or else not caring that this was my house and he technically didn’t have the right to enforce rules.
Austin stopped at the edge of the flowers to shift before beelining for the back door. I hurried to meet him.
“Hey.” Austin grabbed my arms and raked his gaze down my body, clearly assessing me for damage. “You okay?”
Jasper flew directly overhead. He must’ve lost the trail.
“Yeah. I didn’t leave the house.” I nudged Austin to turn toward the munched flowers, but my dad’s voice stopped me short.
“Young lady, you’ll catch the death of cold out here at night with just a T-shirt.” He stood in the back door, a bag of bread dangling from one hand, a half-eaten cookie in the other, and his cheek puffed out like a chipmunk’s. His eyes narrowed at Austin. “Son, now…I understand the need to let the begonias air out—it is very good for circulation, no matter what doctors or my wife will tell you—but that is my daughter there, and calling on her at this time of the night without a stitch of clothing on is pushing it.”
“Yes, sir. I apologize. I keep late hours.” Austin turned, providing an opening for me to pass him. Jasper touched down somewhere within the trees, something I only felt, thankfully. None of us could see him.
“Here we go.” Mr. Tom scooted past my father in his house sweats. He carried more in his hands. “I was just bringing some sweats now.”
“So the cape isn’t just for suits, you wear it with leisurewear too, huh?” My dad shook his head at Mr. Tom. “We all like the idea of superheroes, but even Superman took his off once in a while…”
“Superman is just a—”
“Never mind,” I said, stopping Mr. Tom. We didn’t need to get into it.
Tight-lipped, Mr. Tom held out sweatpants for Austin. “Here, Mr. Steele. And miss, you can wear the sweatshirt so you don’t look cold.”
My dad nodded once. “That’s more like it.” Mr. Tom’s word choice, thankfully, hadn’t registered. “Don’t stay out too late.” He headed back to the kitchen.
“Thank God it wasn’t your dad that I had to convince about magic,” Austin murmured. “I don’t know if it could be done.” He ushered me toward Jasper. Edgar darted out from the bushes.
“Your tripwire worked, Jessie, congratulations,” Edgar said, smiling at me. “Job well done.” He turned somber. “I owe you an apology, though. It was not the basajaun after all. I have egg on my face.”
I waved that away. “What’d you see?”
“A larger deer, probably a shifter, snapped me out of a doze,” Edgar said. I glanced back at the house, really hoping my dad wasn’t looking out. Thankfully, I didn’t see a face in the lit kitchen windows. “It approached like any deer might, wandering through the wood and looking for food. After that—”
“I was watching. What about the magic? Did you notice anything about that strange glow around it?”
Austin slipped on the sweats before stalking across the grass, his stride long and purposeful. I followed, trailed by everyone else.
“Just the color, density, and reach of the glow,” Edgar said. “I was a bit too far away to get a more detailed look.”
“How good of a mage is the woman in town?” I asked as Austin tramped through the flowers. Edgar issued a soft squeal. “The one who makes the flower elixir. Would she know much about different spells?”
“No,” Mr. Tom said as Austin bent to the munched section, studying the ground. “She’s low level, which is why she’s in a small town making magical Miracle-Gro for a vampire so he can cheat at local gardening shows.”
“For the last time, it is not cheating,” Edgar said. “That sneak, Marg, could use the same elixir—”
“Grab me a light, Edgar,” Austin said.