The gargoyles stepped out of the cave entrance, Damarion first, and he quickly realized what was happening. His wings snapped out, one hitting the rock wall, nearly spearing Austin, and the other pushing out through the trees, the span striking me as incredible regardless of how many times I’d seen it.

The mage on my right got a shot off. It slapped my bubble and spread along it, just as the first had done. This one, though, sputtered and fizzed, shooting sparks.

My magic dissolved under the pressure, leaving us open to their attack.

Niamh bolted toward them and leapt from the ground onto the face of the mage in front of me. That mage shrieked, magic erupting from her fingertips as she reached for Niamh, now clawing and tearing and biting at her face.

The magic zinged toward me. Before I could react, Damarion grabbed me and turned his back, his wing whipping around me for more shelter.

“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.

32

Butterflies filled my stomach. I didn’t want to do what I was about to do.

My knuckles were white as I wrung my hands, perched on the edge of my seat in one of the large sitting rooms at the front of the house.

“He is coming now, miss,” Mr. Tom said from the doorway, his tuxedo pressed, a white towel once again draped over his bent arm. His love of watching old butler movies was officially getting out of hand.

A week had gone by since the showdown with the remaining mages. Five had snuck around the area, learning my habits and those of the town. Four had successfully kidnapped me and imprisoned me within the mountain. Two had been taken down by Bigfoot’s scary uncle. That meant my team had only taken down three of them—or really two, since Austin was technically still a free agent.

That was unacceptable. I needed to make some changes. I needed to bring everyone under one umbrella and get them working together. I could only make a decision about who should sit on my council if I knew which of them were team players. Baby steps.

Step one was this meeting.

The wooden carving on the mantelpiece moved and changed, a woman holding a sword emerging within the pattern, along with a large gargoyle who flew down to land beside her. Without warning, she spun and sliced with her sword. The gargoyle’s head flew off, the body disappearing within the changing designs and the head bouncing along the ground. The woman stowed her sword and bent, picking up the head in a palm, and…

I looked away, my mood souring. I mention in the house, one time, how gross it was for the basajaun to spike a head like a football, and suddenly it was Ivy House’s favorite joke. I really did question her sense of humor.

At least it was obvious she supported my decision. That meant a lot, since it affected her, too.

I stood when Damarion filled the doorway, his face hard and his eyes wary. He probably knew what was coming.

My stomach clenched with unease. I hated doing stuff like this.

“Hi Damarion, please…” I motioned to the chair that had been placed opposite me. “Have a seat.”

“You’re looking well,” he said, his gaze sliding down my front. He stopped before me and bent to give me a kiss on the cheek.

Over the last week, he’d thankfully gotten the hint that any chance of romance between us had flown out the window. I was pretty sure he blamed Austin for that, even though Austin and I hadn’t seen much of each other, what with him diligently working to better secure the town. Still, Damarion seemed jealous of Austin. And while, sure, Austin could sometimes burn my blood with a simple touch, it would forever be a no-go. Damarion had nothing to be jealous of. Regardless, the two couldn’t be in the same room before, but now it seemed like Damarion was struggling with being in the same town.

I lowered into my chair and forced myself to cross my legs, as though pretending I was comfortable might make it so.

“Damarion, I know I’ve said it before, but I would just like to thank you again for helping me learn my magic, training me, and especially for saving my life. You’ve been a huge asset to this house and have been integral to my training thus far.”

He nodded.

“Unfortunately,” I went on, trying to keep the apology out of my voice. This was business. I couldn’t worry about offending him or hurting his feelings, which was easier said than done, given the need to please people had been drilled into me—and every other woman I knew—my whole life. Before Ivy House, I would have preferred to endure my own discomfort rather than anger or upset others, even if the other party was acting out of turn. That made me a great host, but it really worked against me in terms of business. I had to harden up for this new life. I had to own being the boss lady. I couldn’t apologize for the decisions I made. This wasn’t personal, and Damarion had known the score all along. They all had.

But man, strapping on my iron panties was easier said than done.

“I have to make some structural changes to my setup,” I said. “You have excellent skills and a lot of very admirable qualities, but unfortunately, I’ll no longer be needing your services at this time. I hope you can understand.”

I just barely stopped myself from apologizing and telling him it wasn’t personal.

He studied me quietly for a moment, making me want to squirm in my seat.

Finally, he nodded curtly and stood. “You are not ready for me. When you are, I will expect another summons. It has been an honor.” He bowed deeply and his wings fluttered. After straightening, he took my hand and brushed his lips across my knuckles. “Until we meet again.”