Page 1 of Magical Midlife Rescue (Leveling Up #11)

ONE

Tristan

“No, you’re being too subtle,” Jessie told Aurora, Alpha Austin Steele’s niece.

They all sat in the front room of Ivy House, empty coffee cups in hand, having a conversation about Edgar’s new attack flowers.

The vampire was on version four or five or— Tristan had lost count after flower versions Y and T.

No one was quite sure if Edgar realized the alphabet and number systems were different, or if he knew the alphabet at all.

Aurora angled her head a bit more, her meaning plain. I just don’t get it.

Jessie’s face scrunched up, and everything tensed. What the hell is she trying to tell me???

Tristan hid a grin. Well, the meaning was plain to him.

Aurora was in charge of helping Jessie learn body language in anticipation of meeting shifter packs, headed up by stoic alphas that took every subtle body tic as a complete sentence.

Being Austin’s mate and the co-leader of this territory, Jessie would need to sit in on the meetings and help bring these new packs into the convocation, a merging of various species and groups of magical people that could hopefully push back against the corrupt Mages Guild and their biggest ally, Momar.

These alphas wouldn’t be as lenient with Jessie as Alpha Steele was, or as patient as Alpha Kingsley Baraza, Austin’s brother.

Many likely wouldn’t be as reasonable as the alpha they’d met in Los Angeles, either.

These would be shifters at the top of the power scale who wouldn’t want their rule and command overshadowed by a new, made-up faction, regardless of the aid they’d provided Kingsley. Or so the alpha rumor mill claimed.

Jessie would have to show that even though she was a past Jane—a non-magical person—and now a gargoyle, she still understood and respected shifter culture. Which wouldn’t usually be hard for her…except for the body language aspect. That was…tough going, it seemed.

A smile budded on Aurora’s lips. It’s funny when you get annoyed.

Jessie’s brow crumpled. Smiling isn’t allowed.

“You’re still advertising your every thought,” Aurora told her patiently. “Literally, every single one. Even if you don’t know what I’m saying with my body, you need to keep your thoughts and emotions buttoned up. It’s like poker. Remember when you taught me poker?”

Jessie sighed and leaned back. Defeated. “I do, yes. As I recall, you took all my money.”

Aurora laughed, very free and expressive with Jessie—for a shifter, at least. She never showed this side of herself to anyone else, not even her uncle. Jessie had a way of thawing even the hardest, most severely trained people.

Not for the first time, Tristan wondered if Jessie shouldn’t just stay a free spirit.

Respecting shifter culture was one thing, but she shouldn’t have to bow to it.

She was looser than even a gargoyle cairn leader with her crew, and that worked.

She managed a lot of power with a distinct style of leadership.

Changing who she was… minimized how well her style worked.

Conformity wasn’t her strong suit—in Tristan’s opinion, anyway.

Then again, shifters were a rule-based, prickly breed. This was Alpha Steele’s show. He’d know what might work best to get other packs on his side.

“I think the answer is Xanax,” Jessie said, and leaned forward to put her mug on the coffee table. She paused when she didn’t see a coaster.

“Here.” Tristan dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out a scrunched, oblong doily.

Edgar had grown worlds better at making flowers but somehow worse at the doilies.

He really needed to find a new hobby for the quiet hours of the night.

“Use this,” he said, and tossed it onto the coffee table in front of her.

She hesitated as she stared down at the craft item, her gaze tracing the large hole in the design and the loose strands of fabric making up the other side. Bewildered. Resigned.

Aurora started laughing again.

“When Mr. Tom berates me for this”—she set her mug on top of it and glanced at Tristan—”I’m blaming you.”

“Blame Niamh,” he replied, leaning away and throwing an arm over the back of the couch.

He made sure to bend his elbow to keep his hand from resting behind Jessie’s person.

If he didn’t, in shifter culture it would hint at a claim, despite how far apart they were sitting.

He was practicing shifter rules as well, and a faux pas like that wouldn’t be easily forgiven.

Aurora looked over at him with a delicately curved eyebrow. Questioning.

He still wasn’t great at nuances. Brochan, Austin’s shifter beta, probably would’ve read a novel within her posture.

“Right, why do you have Edgar’s doilies in your pocket?” Jessie asked.

“Yay!” Aurora clapped at her. “You got it!”

“I mean…you were being pretty obvious about it,” Jessie replied, back to sagging against the couch.

Tristan moved his hand a little further away from Jessie. “Not all that obvious.”

“Not at all obvious,” Aurora said supportively.

She might have Alpha Steele’s wild streak and fire, but she had her dad’s patient and levelheaded way when in a teaching role.

She’d be one hell of an alpha someday, especially since she watched everything Alpha Steele and Brochan did.

She was eager to learn and quick to apply.

“I’m now challenging Tristan’s grasp of body mechanics.

I’m just as expressive with him as I am with most shifters. ”

Tristan preened, shaking his shoulders and ruffling the ends of his wings where they draped over the edge of the couch.

A tiny crease at the corners of Aurora’s mouth and a slight relaxing of her shoulders were the only indications she gave of thinking that was cute or funny. And then she shook her head and bent to put her mug down as well.

He threw out another doily.

“If Mr. Tom doesn’t want doilies around the house, he shouldn’t keep moving the coasters,” she mused before sitting back and looking Tristan’s way.

Her eyes kindled with cunning intelligence as she tried to piece something together.

She did that a lot with gargoyles, trying as she was to learn his culture as they tried to learn hers.

“Would you preen with anyone, or just because it’s Jessie and her family? ”

A soft glow of warmth radiated from Jessie to accentuate her pleased smile. She loved the addition of Alpha Steele’s family into her circle. It was clearly an extension of the incredible love she had for the man himself.

The same glow immediately infused Aurora. She seemed to feel the same, cherishing her uncle being back in her life after a difficult separation and loving Jessie like a sister. It was very cute, the two of them.

Actually, Tristan mused, the whole dynamic of this house and its inhabitants was cute—but with bonds as strong as the roots of an oak, and just as deep.

The residents would die for each other, and they’d proven it.

Their odd little family was a better core of an army than he’d ever seen.

If they could continue to grow the convocation, the corrupt mages wouldn’t stand a chance.

If.

Aurora quirked her eyebrow at him in a different way. I asked you a question…

She might as well have been tapping her foot.

“Oh, sorry, I was waiting for the family love-fest to subside,” Tristan said with a grin. “I’d show pride?—”

“You preened,” she interrupted. “You basically flicked your hair and batted your eyelashes.”

He laughed. “I’d show pride with most people, and preen with other gargoyles and certain ladies…”

“I’m one of those ladies?” Her eyes shuttered, and her body tightened with unease. He didn’t miss her slight flush, though. The unease wasn’t because of his notice, but because of her response to his notice.

Aurora was a lady who needed to get out more. Who needed to sow her wild oats and break a few hearts.

He made a mental note to talk with Jasper and Ulric about it. They’d help her carve out more time for play. She worked too much.

“…and gentlemen,” he finished with a smirk.

“And yes, you are one of those ladies. As is Jessie. As is Niamh. It’s not in any way sexual.

It’s not flirting, it’s just…” He struggled for how to explain it.

“It’s adding a little silliness when showing pride.

I was paying you respect by being tickled that you should praise me. Like a dog wagging its tail.”

Her stare was utterly expressionless. “Your confidence, even when essentially calling yourself a happy dog, is inspiring. Why only some people?”

“Most ladies enjoy when a man acts silly. Guys are a harder sell, especially shifters. They’re too wrapped up in being”—he did bunny ears with his fingers—”macho. A lot of gargoyles aren’t worried about that, though. We’re expressive. We enjoy using our bodies.” His eyes darkened. “In all things…”

Her flush increased, and she looked away. He laughed as Jessie rolled her eyes.

“Don’t mind him.” Jessie waved him away. “He doesn’t have Nessa here to tease all the time, so he’s spreading it around to everyone else.”

Tristan tried to stop his thoughts from skittering away to Nessa—that beautiful deathwatch angel mage—and his worry over her mental well-being.

His worry at what she was resigning herself to do without help.

She’d cut them all off and disappeared into the shadows, always a step ahead of him and Niamh.

For the past month, he hadn’t been able to track her down.

His growing concern that there was a problem was haunting his dreams.

Aurora’s gaze found him again, her eyes piercing and direct. Reading him.

He let her. He had many things to hide, but his affection for that broken, radiant, intelligent woman wasn’t one of them. She might never give in to him, but if she could be safe and secure, happy, he’d consider it a win. She deserved that. At least that.

Aurora switched gears, for which he was grateful. He needed the distraction.