“Something like that, sure.” Sebastian chuckled.

I dragged my teeth across my lip as I faced Austin again, his emotions expectant and patient, with a trickle of leftover heat worming through. The goal was not to hurt him, obviously. Instead of knocking away his weapons, I just wanted to see which ones he had. This was informational, that was all. And sure, I hadn’t waited for the sweats, and I could literally see what he was packing—all of it—but that shouldn’t matter.

“Here we go,” I said, breaking out in a sweat, reminding myself of the trickle of power I needed. That was it, just a trickle. Anything more would turn the spell into something dangerous.

Spell ready, I reduced the power a little more, just in case, and let fly.

The spell hit a magical wall three feet from Austin. Sparks fizzed and sputtered. Fire flared before purple smoke curled into the air.

“You were really going to let her hit you with that?” Sebastian said to Austin, awestruck. “She cannot control her power, she just made up an intricate spell, willy-nilly, and you were going to let her fry off patches of your skin?”

“Is that what it would’ve done?” I asked, aghast.

“He’s had worse,” Niamh murmured as Ulric jogged back toward us, sweats in hand.

“I thought you all were showboating. I didn’t think she’d actually do it. But clearly this is how she’s been training, huh?” Sebastian shook his head, looking down at his feet. “This would never happen in my world. Mages and shifters working side by side. The intricacy of spells and potions mixed with brute strength and iron-clad courage. What an army that would be.”

“That’s not true, about shifters and mages never working together,” I mumbled, half my brain still thinking about where that spell might’ve gone wrong. “This house was attacked by a mage and some shifters.”

“Those shifters were brought to die,” Ulric said. “They weren’t working together. That mage was offering them for slaughter.”

“Yes, that sounds more likely,” Sebastian said, still studying his shoes. “That spell had the right qualities, but you used way, way too much power.” He put his head in his hands. “You have a deep well of power within you—very, very deep—but it’s mostly below the surface, like an iceberg. It wasn’t until you opened up with spell work that I glimpsed your raw strength. You aren’t using all of it yet, but I know you will be more powerful than me when you eventually do. I could feel the currents of it when it hit my spell.”

“Can you still teach me what you know?” I asked softly.

“Yes.” He scrubbed at his hair and sat up, looking away, his eyes distant. “Why hide your magical ability? A mage’s power level scares off potential attackers half the time. Only the worthy need apply.”

“For now, her biggest strength is in being undervalued,” Edgar said, sitting back on his haunches. “It’s best if people think she isn’t anyone of consequence. But that aspect of her magic is at her discretion. When she’s ready to show what she’s made of, she can.”

“How come you never told me that?” I asked.

Edgar shrugged. “It never came up.”

“That makes sense.” Sebastian’s eyes rested on me, and for the first time I could remember, they weren’t flat and affectless. They looked almost blue in the slice of sun that cut down his face, and they shone with intelligence and cunning. “You can release the alpha. You can release everyone but the vampire and his book, actually. I won’t need their help.”

I offered him a relieved smile, thankful he was sticking around. “Austin draws out my magic, so he has to stay.” I glanced at Ulric and Jasper. “I’ll call you when it’s time to fly.”

Before I could turn to Niamh, she said, “Nah. Don’t bother. I’m not going anywhere. I want to see how ye get on. Besides, if that mage turns into a nutter and tries to bring you down, I want to be on hand to watch Ivy House deal with him.”

“There is no way I am stepping out of line with the alpha on hand, I assure you,” Sebastian said, flicking a glance Austin’s way. “Seeing his polar bear form rattled me, and I don’t mind admitting it.” Sebastian rose, slouching as he walked toward me. “He doesn’t need to stand there. You shouldn’t practice on him anymore. He distracts you, and the worry of hurting him makes you hold back. I could see it in your body motions and positioning. Believe it or not, the positioning of your body matters when making a spell.”

Austin nodded and moved toward Ulric, putting out his hand for the sweats.

“You will cast toward my magical backdrop.” Sebastian stopped beside me. “First you’ll do a spell from the book that you know and have no trouble with—I certainly wish I’d had a book like that—and then you’ll create something similar from scratch. See how you measure up.”

“Measure up…meaning what?” Mr. Tom asked. “To what?”

“Training by committee. Interesting approach.” If Sebastian was put out, he didn’t show it. “You saw what happened when a spell with too much power hit my wall. Fire. The color of the smoke informed us of the nature of the spell—violence lives in purples and blues. More benign spells come in yellows and oranges, and so on. But talking only achieves so much in the realm of spell-making. It’ll be easier for me to teach you if I see you cast.” He put his hands behind his back and clasped his fingers. “So let’s see what we’ve got, okay?”

We had a lot of violence, that was what we had. I’d learned attack spells through the book and on the go. I also knew a lot of defensive spells, which were apparently in the red family. I didn’t have a lot of knowledge to go with either variety. Most of the things I tried I got wrong, but occasionally I got something right.

I was panting and sweaty toward the end, something that had never happened to me before while practicing magic.

When Sebastian finally declared we were finished for the day, he was fresh-faced and with sparkling eyes. He wasn’t tired in the least, but he’d clearly had a good time. That was a relief.

“Now you fly?” he asked, reseating himself on the log.

“Yes. I have to learn better aerial maneuvering.” I hesitated in shedding my clothes. It was hard enough to disrobe around shifters, who were used to seeing others naked, but Sebastian’s fixation on his shoes earlier had shown how uncomfortable he was with Austin hanging around naked. I wasn’t in the mood for a peep show.

As if realizing it, Sebastian rose, stepped over the log, and sat with his back to me. “That has to be so weird, going from not even knowing magic exists to all of this.”

“Very weird, yes.” I hesitated for a moment, just to make sure he didn’t turn around.

Austin repositioned himself between us, cutting off Sebastian’s sight even if he did peek.

“I don’t much like an alpha at my back,” Sebastian murmured. “I can feel him there somewhere. The small hairs on my neck are standing up like I’m about to get attacked.”

“If you plan on staying peaceful, it’s not me you need to worry about. You’d do best to keep an eye on Niamh,” Austin said. He’d pulled on the sweatpants but hadn’t bothered with the shirt, his big, broad back corded with muscle.

“Don’t ruin the surprise,” Niamh said, removing her clothes.

Clothes off, I shifted to my gargoyle form. My face didn’t protrude quite so much as the male gargoyles’ did, my wings were smaller, and I put out a sort of swirling light show when I moved. Jasper and Ulric changed with me, the sound like boulders moving against hard-packed dirt.

“Can I turn back now?” Sebastian asked, and I took to the sky. When he saw me, I could just barely see his mouth go slack and his eyes widen. “That is every bit worth the price of admission,” he said, and then I was up through the trees, out of hearing range, soaring with my kind, wind against my wings, savoring a sort of freedom I couldn’t express in words.

If Austin called in his brother, my ground game would be covered, but I still needed more fliers. Up here, soaring through the air, I realized how important that was.

My blast of magic nearly knocked Jasper and Ulric from the sky.

Hurry up.

An answering blast nearly froze my blood. I was calling in the best, and they had answered. They were on their way.

I sure hoped Austin could handle them.

Twelve

Mr. Tom leaned over the young master, sleeping more soundly than Mr. Tom could recollect anyone sleeping, ever. If an attacker waltzed into this room, it would be open season. Luckily, Master Jimmy had the house and his mother to look after him. He’d be safe as long as those held up.

“Young master,” Mr. Tom said softly, something that usually roused the miss when she didn’t sense him lurking over her. Not so much as a twitch.

“Young master,” he repeated, a little louder this time. At least this boy approved of being called the proper title. Much less fussy than his mother or grandparents. He could get used to the boy staying in the house. It made Mr. Tom feel all kinds of useful.

Except when he wouldn’t wake up.

“Master Jimmy!” Mr. Tom kicked the bed.

“Hmm?” The young master slowly opened his eyes. “Hah!” He jutted out his hand in some sort of karate chop move he must’ve learned from his mother.

“We need to start training you in combat ASAP,” Mr. Tom said with a sniff. “No one connected to this house should go around cartoon-style karate-chopping at people. It’s embarrassing for all of us. Now.” Mr. Tom straightened up as the young master rubbed his eyes. “There is coffee on the night table for you and breakfast waiting downstairs. Best get moving. You’re off to see the basajaun today. Austin Steele will be going with you just in case the insufferable flea magnet decides it doesn’t like strangers and attacks. You never really know with them. This particular one has been downright tame compared to some others I’ve heard about, but I would still refrain from turning your back on it.”