Page 47 of Magical Midlife Rescue (Leveling Up #11)

The enemy guardians were all together now. Their leader snapped his wings, then darted forward. His people started behind him haphazardly.

Tristan snapped his wings in turn, but his people matched his advance, perfectly synchronized and holding their pattern. They were clearly much more disciplined, even though they weren’t as prestigious as the Gimerel cairn guardians.

“Tristan is showing that he’s a much better commander,” Sebastian whispered, watching the sky. Everyone on the ground was doing the same, the basajaunak and shifters having stopped trying to intimidate so they could look up.

“But will his people be enough?” Nessa picked at her nail. They certainly looked like the underdogs, not as large, as Sebastian had noticed. Not as robust or strong in flight. Not as numerous.

The two groups closed the distance. Gargoyles growled or roared.

Hands came out to grapple. At the last moment, Tristan’s gargoyles changed pattern.

Small groups separated, some going high and some low.

Tristan plowed through at the same level, knocking people away like a bowling ball headed for a strike.

The enemy startled, pausing in confusion at the change.

Tristan’s people took advantage. The groups who went high dove down now.

They singled out one or two and swarmed, tearing the enemy out of the sky in short order, not killing, per the rules, just maiming.

As the rest of the enemy recovered, the groups who’d gone low sped upward and punched through enemy clusters, breaking up any group effort and scattering enemy formations.

Those at the back of Tristan’s formation sped forward, further bursting the enemy’s organization apart.

As they did, they picked off guardians, reducing their numbers.

It was like the inside of a washing machine, surging and twisting.

The enemy scattered, and any pretense of planning vanished.

That was what Tristan had been going for.

He thrummed his wings, giving a command.

Then the real battle started. His people attacked viciously, groups going after the largest and strongest enemy gargoyles first. It was nothing like the battle at Ivy House, where there had seemed to be gargoyles everywhere, utter chaos.

This was organized and systematic, Tristan maneuvering his people with obvious accuracy.

“Holy crap.” Sebastian gave Nessa a toothy grin. “His gargoyles are sensational . He’s leveled up, big time.”

He certainly had. He was doing the convocation and Ivy House proud.

Cyra and Hollace didn’t participate. Hollace pulled up high, into the updrafts that had given the enemy gargoyles a real problem.

His great wings fluttered and rolled with the turbulence, but the winds didn’t bring him down or send him careening away.

Cyra dove around him and fought the gales. Fire flew every which way.

“Look.” Nessa pointed them out to Sebastian. “They’re playing.”

“They’re letting Tristan beat the cairn on his own. That way, Nelson can’t say Tristan cheated and used legendary creatures to take down Gimerel guardians. Smart.”

“Yeah.” But even that seemed to open eyes. Garhettes were pointing, and people came out of their homes or the shops to look. “Are they marveling because Hollace and Cyra are very cool creatures or because they’re strong fliers?”

Sebastian shook his head. He didn’t know.

Niamh was nowhere to be found. Probably soaring below, or maybe back at the van and her cooler. She wasn’t one to sit around empty-handed.

The enemy started to fall, the equivalent of limping in the sky. They sank out of the battle and struggled to their home slope. Once there, the basajaunak grabbed them and put them into a group before standing over them and roaring. Shifters walked through the crowds again, back to intimidating.

It turned out the garhettes liked intimidating creatures. They trailed after the shifters with sparkling eyes and hopeful smiles. Tristan had explained about the fake kidnapping thing—garhettes usually liked to play hard to get. These didn’t. They were all but begging to be taken.

Only the biggest and strongest of the enemy guardians were left, including their leader. They tried to regroup, struggling to get back to each other. Tristan’s team was there, though, blocking their way. Separate and conquer. He handled them expertly.

“I have never seen one of these go so quickly,” one garhette said to another as they wandered closer.

They didn’t feel Nessa’s and Sebastian’s presences.

Their heavily lined eyes were trained on the sky, and slinky dresses hugged their curves.

Each was beautiful and clearly wanting a ride out of there.

“Nelson never should’ve let Tristan go. It hurt our whole cairn. ”

“For many reasons,” the second purred as she fixed the bust of her dress, pushing her cleavage up and out.

“He’s hardly had any losses. They’re working together better than any cairn that’s ever attacked. He doesn’t even have as good of guardians, and he’s dominated this battle!”

“Maybe next, he’ll dominate me.”

The first huffed at her friend. “You tried that, remember? He didn’t date you any longer than he dated anyone else. He doesn’t settle down. He’s always been very clear about that.”

“You’re just jealous because he never went after you.”

“ I never went after him . I don’t chase, and neither does he.”

“Well”—the second shrugged—“he didn’t used to settle down, maybe, but now he has a cairn that respects him.

Nelson always made him feel temporary because of his past or whatever.

But I hear the female doesn’t care about that.

If he feels some security and permanence, he’ll be looking. We got along well, he and I.”

“He got along well with everyone. There wasn’t one person he pined after or worshipped.

He was too busy thinking about himself and playing his games.

I’m telling you, you’re wasting your time on that gargoyle.

He’s the playboy who never takes things too seriously.

Wouldn’t you rather have someone you can count on? ”

The second waved that away. “I can count on myself. There aren’t any garhettes in his cairn, or whatever they call it.

Not that he wants, anyway. He’s probably going to take this opportunity to snag one of his kind.

” She adjusted her hair. “Hell, even if it’s just for a while, I’ll take it,” she murmured as an afterthought.

“He was always the best of the bunch. I had fun with him.”

A strange, uncomfortable feeling tightened Nessa’s stomach.

She glanced at the women, wondering what had triggered it.

It couldn’t be calling Tristan a playboy—he was, and had no reservations about his antics.

He didn’t boast or hide them or care much at all, honestly.

Very few gargoyles did. She liked that about them, the openness.

They didn’t slut-shame or call women down for behavior they themselves enjoyed. It was liberating.

Jealousy? Laughable. The thought barely crossed her mind before she discounted it. She truly didn’t care about him with other women. It was surface level for him, and she shared the same philosophy. They were a little too similar in that way. In many ways, she had to own.

Wouldn’t you rather have someone you can count on?

Her stomach tightened again, and she dragged her lip through her teeth before looking away.

She had counted on him that other night.

Greatly. A part of her wanted to count on him still.

Wanted someone strong and mean and familiar with the shadows in order to guard her in a way she hadn’t dared let anyone.

She wanted someone to handle the beasties for her, like he’d always promised.

Maybe someone to grant her a safe haven so she could work on herself, so she could maybe heal a little.

That wasn’t his jam, though. She knew that. Hell, these women knew that. Their whole cairn did, it sounded like. He liked to play games, to stay aloof, and to keep his secrets.

But maybe…

She picked at her nail again.

Maybe it was time she put herself out there. Not for guys like him, who didn’t trust and didn’t want to, but for someone else who might not balk at what she was and what she’d done.

Or maybe she was feeling sappy after coming home. After realizing that Jessie and Austin and the Ivy House crew felt like family, and she wanted to belong with them in a way she had never dared to belong with anyone but Sebastian and his sister.

Hell, she didn’t know. This was all getting much too complicated.

“Anyway,” she whispered, even though this invisibility spell also had soundproofing qualities. She shook her head and stared at the fortress. She could feel Sebastian looking at her. “What?”

He didn’t respond, and when she glanced his way, his eyes were deep and sorrowful and troubled. She knew that look.

“Stop.” She rolled her eyes and turned away again. “The past is in the past. We have a team now, and we’re going to be okay.”

“I know.”

“Right. Well then, stop looking at me like that.”

“But are you going to be okay?”

Jessie and Austin stepped out of the fortress in their human forms, nude and hand in hand.

“Wait…” One of the garhettes who’d been talking paused for a moment. “Wait, didn’t she go in with a satchel? I saw that, didn’t I?”

“I don’t know, but she doesn’t have anything now. Neither of them does.”

The first garhette took a few steps that way, hands on her hips. The gargoyles above circled, forgotten by most of those on the ground for now. “It doesn’t look like she took anything.”

The other stepped forward to stay at her side. “You’re sure she had?—”

Another garhette jogged over with a crooked smile. This one wore sturdy clothes. “She had a bag going in there, did you see that?” She mimed something around her middle. “It was orange with black writing. Did you see it?”