“That mage knew just enough to purposely stay away from him.”

“That won’t matter to Austin Steele. He holds himself to unrealistic expectations. It won’t be easy for him to get over the fact that the mage got the better of him.”

I turned my head, back to looking out the window. “This is ridiculous. I can’t stay on this property forever—I will have to leave sometime. With a price on my head, I’m going to need a team around me to guard my back. Everyone blaming themselves and licking their wounds is not helpful. It’s not going to make things safer going forward.”

“Agreed, miss.”

“What do you think about bringing some of the gargoyles onto the team?”

He sat down again, as awkwardly as before, and said, “Honestly, I don’t think they have proven themselves yet. None of them have meshed with the established team. Right now, there are two teams, rather than just one.”

“Damarion’s team, and yours and Niamh’s team.”

He hesitated. “Basically, yes. The summoned gargoyle team, and the house team. Despite being the same species as the others, I am not viewed as part of the gargoyle group.”

“But Damarion said that they didn’t even know each other before they came here.”

“I wager that is how the summons works. They collect along the way, finding each other, moving together, and establishing the pecking order before they arrive. Once they arrive, they are ready to assimilate.”

“Except they haven’t assimilated.”

“They have, just not with the house team. They have assimilated with one another, and with you.”

Frustrated, I pushed to standing. “That’s not going to work for me. Does Damarion need to be brought into the Council…seating thing in order for all of you to work together? Are the groups only separate because he’s not connected with the magic? Those gargoyles will follow me, sure, but my default setting isn’t as commander. When I need something, I take charge, but otherwise I don’t think of it. It’ll take time for me to grow into that role. In the meantime, I need someone to handle the day-to-day…”

A memory jogged for position. Austin speaking to me.

I have experience in leading. Obviously you don’t need my help with Niamh and the others, but if new people show up, you can count on me. I will put them in their place until you’re ready to step up and take over. You know my past—you know I won’t try to usurp power. Eventually, hopefully, I wouldn’t be able to.

My frustration bubbled a little higher.

“Damn Austin for not wanting to be involved in this. He’s the missing link. He’s the ace in the hole. And he doesn’t want the job. Not officially, anyway, and if he won’t officially take it, it’s a hard sell to outsiders.”

“Yes, the situation is certainly grievous.”

I huffed out a sardonic laugh. “Grievous…yes, it is. So what I’m looking for is a replacement for Austin. Right now, the only candidate is Damarion.”

“He certainly has the right materials. Strong, sure, loyal, born to lead…”

“He’s an elitist, though, who hasn’t made an effort to connect with the nut cases of this house.”

“True, he hasn’t taken to Edgar and Niamh very well…”

That didn’t warrant a comment.

“I wonder if I could talk him around,” I said, bracing my hands on my hips. “Maybe he just doesn’t understand that I need my second to handle day-to-day issues that involve the whole house. If he knew that, he might be more inclined to treat everyone as a group.”

“He’d certainly need to welcome non-gargoyles, because you can’t just have gargoyles on your team.”

“Yes, exactly. He seems a little green—maybe he just needs some training, like I do.” I paused, thinking, then added, “And if he’s more secure in his footing, he may treat the Austin situation like a professional instead of a competition for dominance.”

“I was with you until that last bit.”

“It’s worth a try. I don’t have much choice.”

“But you do have a choice. You can send another summons and see who you get, like fishing. Catch and release. You don’t have to settle for your first couple catches.”

“Is it too late to quit and choose a different life?”

“And stay alive and free? Yes, miss. That ship has sailed. You have the magic now, and only death will change that.”

“I owe it to Damarion to give him a chance. He showed up in the nick of time and saved my life. He’s been taking beatings from me. The least I can do is talk to him. This is all new to him—the town, the people, us. I’m sure we can get him on the right track.”

“Of course, miss. There’s the spirit. ‘Beating a dead horse’ wouldn’t be a saying if people didn’t love to do it.”

“That’s not why…” I let it go as I passed him, headed for the kitchen. I’d grab a bottle of wine and invite Damarion to one of the larger sitting rooms for a chat.

I was in the kitchen, having just opened a bottle of wine, when I felt Damarion approaching the room from down the hall.

“Hey,” he said, coming up behind me. He slipped his hands across my hips and gently pulled me back until my back was against his front. “I was just coming to do the same thing.”

“What’s that?” I asked, coaxing myself to relax within his arms, wanting to just get over this hump of anxiety and let myself be touched by someone new. I knew if I just buckled down and made it through the first time, I’d realize it wasn’t such a big deal. Plus I’d get a little…exercise that I was starting to crave with more urgency lately. I just needed to stop getting nervous and running for the hills.

“Grab the wine.” He bent and ran his lips along my neck, lifting a hand so he could pull down the edge of my silk housecoat (Mr. Tom had insisted I have one), exposing the spaghetti strap of my singlet. The wet warmth of his kiss left a trail until he got to the strap, then he hooked his fingers underneath it, about ready to pull that down, too.

In the middle of the kitchen.

“Let’s…” I slid away a little, hitting the edge of the counter with my hip as I half turned. This would all be so much easier if he didn’t come on so strong. It was like he didn’t have a “warming up” setting. He went from normal guy to Mr. Handsy in one second flat. “How about we—”

He dropped his finger to my lips. “Shh.” He pulled his finger away and planted a kiss on my lips. “I know what will help you forget about that bear.”

I paused. “What?”

He reached around me and took the bottle of wine. “You need me to show you how I feel, right?” He grabbed two glasses. “You need romance?” He gave me a sultry smile. “Give me ten minutes, and then look in on my room. You have the ability to see into any of the rooms, right? Ulric said the house lets you look in on anyone. I’m sure you’ve been using it to check on me…”

I tried to keep a straight face, but a furrowed brow might’ve broken through. Not only would I not do that because of the creepiness factor, but the thought honestly hadn’t crossed my mind.

“Give me ten minutes, and then I will show you. You can come to me whenever you want.”

I let out a held breath and smiled—he’d finally landed on the perfect words. I could go to him. I could choose when and how. Being able to set the pace and apply the brakes sounded really good. Especially as it concerned him. I wondered if he’d consent to just being tied up and letting me work the whole thing out without his digits searching for every available orifice.

“Yes, that’s right.” His kiss was urgent and needy. “That look in your eyes. I like it. Ten minutes. Come see me.”

His new approach had certainly derailed my plan to talk to him. But maybe this was a good thing—maybe it would help me overcome whatever was holding me back with him.

I was standing in the same place, biting my nails, when Mr. Tom drifted in a few minutes later.

“When you try to talk him into leading the whole group,” he said, “you might give him some romancing pointers.”

“Why? What do you know?”

“That he is very bad at it. Clearly he has never had to try with women.”

“How do you know that?”

Mr. Tom stopped between the still-ruined island and empty area where the table had once been. “You are standing in the kitchen, by yourself, while he is off…doing whatever he is doing. This is, apparently, his new tactic in romancing you. He reminds me of a great many boys I knew growing up. Knuckle draggers. I’d thought the younger generations would have more of a clue, but… Well, I do not expect a great outcome from this effort.”

I opened my mouth, intending to make some kind of a rebuttal, I was pretty sure, but nothing came out. I really didn’t know where to go with this. Talking with Mr. Tom about romancing was about as awesome as talking to him about his stuffing condoms all over my room.

Instead, I just nodded and made my way out, having decided I’d head straight into the secret passageways and take my time getting up to Damarion’s room. When I got there, a minute or so early, I took a deep breath, butterflies fluttering through my belly, and approached the little viewing hole that allowed me to see—and hear—the goings on in most of his room.

Candlelight flickered within, a great start. The bottle of wine waited on the dresser to the right, the two glasses next to it, their rims shimmering in the glow. His headboard was pushed against the wall opposite me, but the small footboard didn’t obstruct my view.

In a moment, I wished it had.

“Yes…”

My eyes popped wide, and it took me a moment to make sense of what I was seeing.

Somewhat hairy legs were bent and spread wide, creating an “M” shape on the fluffy white duvet, the middle being thighs and a bare butt. Candlelight flickered off his ripped body, slanted slightly upward because his head rested on a stack of pillows, but there was no way in hell his muscular chest could hold my attention.