Page 5 of Magical Midlife Rescue (Leveling Up #11)

THREE

Nessa

“Do you want a grilled cheese?” Sebastian asked as Nessa walked through the tiny kitchen in their latest residence.

Her stomach growled. “No, thanks.”

Sebastian’s grilled cheeses made her wonder what he had against cheese and butter—they never had enough of either.

She missed their cooks in the tunnels. Or Mr. Tom.

It took a load off her always having to make food.

Or, hell, she missed Austin. That guy was a wizard in the kitchen.

She missed their friendly but cutthroat competitions to make the best dish.

She smiled through the pain, remembering Jessie and Niamh and Brochan and even Tristan?—

Heat suddenly unfurled in her belly at that last name. Shivers raised goosebumps along her skin. Memories assaulted her of his body pressed against hers, his strength as he held her firmly and whispered threats in her ear…

She ripped her mind away from the gorgeous gargoyle-monster that dogged her steps.

“You know…” She paused at the edge of the hallway beside the kitchen. “No one ever found us in those caves. Maybe we should establish a permanent residence again. Then we can employ some staff and actually use all this money we’ve accumulated.”

Sebastian layered one measly slice of cheese onto a piece of unbuttered bread. Did he not have any taste buds?

“We’d stepped away by that point,” he said, not looking up.

“Only the Guild was really looking for us, and they were woefully ineffective. You said it yourself—Momar’s people have been asking a lot of questions.

They’re cunning in the way the Guild isn’t.

Momar wants us brought in, and if he can’t have that, he wants us dead.

Moving around is the only way to keep him guessing. ”

Nessa twisted her lips to the side, knowing he was right. “Okay, well…I need to do a little work.”

The hollowness of the house pressed on her as she continued down the hall.

The weight of loneliness put a lump in her throat.

She hadn’t ever felt this…solitary before.

She had Sebastian, but he didn’t feel like enough anymore.

She’d gotten used to the Ivy House crew.

To the small but growing town of O’Briens.

To having people around all the time, laughing and joking and being okay in their weirdness.

She’d thought the homesickness would fade, that she’d once again get used to life on the go, but instead, the loneliness kept worsening.

The work was more dismal, the misdeeds more incriminating.

She sighed and pushed her way into the tiny office in the corner of the house.

She shouldn’t have let the Ivy House crew in.

She shouldn’t have gotten so familiar with them, so dependent on them.

She’d tried to protect herself from the pitfalls of her upbringing, not allowing people close so that it wouldn’t hurt when they abandoned her or turned on her, but this time, she’d been the one to do the abandoning, the one to walk away, and it somehow hurt just as much.

The heartache was a tough thing to bear.

Curse this life. Curse this road she was forced to tread.

Feeling sorry for herself, which wasn’t like her, she glanced at the encrypted phone perched on its charger in a prominent location on the desk.

She didn’t dare turn it on. Tristan would surely be paying attention at this time of day.

He had a very strict lunchtime relaxation policy and always took his breaks.

Then again, it had been over two months now of no contact between them, and he was incredibly desirable among the ladies. He’d probably moved on by now. He probably didn’t check the phone all that often or think of her. Or dream…

“That’s not helping your heartache, Nessa,” she murmured, running her thumb across the blank screen as she sat down at the desk.

It was then that she noticed the line of notifications flashing across the computer monitor.

“What the hell?” she whispered.

She clicked to check them out. Her entire network was abuzz, everyone discussing Elliot Graves’s latest move.

Frowning, because there shouldn’t be anything newsworthy for another couple weeks, she clicked play on the video everyone was talking about.

A camera mounted up high showed a large warehouse in the distance.

The structure stood alone at the corner of the block.

Abandoned cars littered the curb, many sprayed with colorful graffiti.

Cracks marred the dirty street and what she could see of the sidewalk.

It looked like a rough part of town, run-down and forgotten. Which town? She had no idea.

As she watched, several figures ran from around the back of the structure, and then one man strode after them.

His gait was long and his shoulders back, utterly confident.

His pristine suit said he was a man with means, something catching and throwing the light on his wrist suggested an expensive watch —which denoted his status as a player in the mage game—and his slicked-back hair and thin frame was uncomfortably recognizable. His face was obscured, likely by magic.

He’d barely exited the screen when several explosions made her jump.

Glass blew out of the windows, and then large patches of the walls went tumbling away.

Fire shot up over the roof. The camera shook on its base.

More explosions, these on the roof. Additional explosions went off into the twisting black of the interior.

Two people from inside tried to run out, but cracks from what sounded like gunfire dropped them to the ground.

Someone jogged along the front, and then two people.

One tossed something into the smoking inferno—grenades, Nessa realized, as the new explosions sent a body flying through one of the holes.

“Sebastian,” she called as she yanked her keyboard closer and went to work, trying to figure out what she was looking at.

In a moment, she had it. Momar’s storage facility.

He had a few such strongholds for the bulk of his decently powerful potions.

They were all said to be heavily protected with spells and guards; the spells covered the doors and windows, while the guards were rumored to prowl the interior and look after the workers and their creations.

Mages would want to get into the building to steal the goods.

Normal mages wouldn’t want to destroy all that bounty.

But Elliot Graves wasn’t a normal mage. He was as powerful as they came, and his spells were much more effective than anything in that warehouse.

And he’d just walked away from the scene of the crime.

“Sebastian!” she yelled as she replayed the video and paused it on the figure.

That wasn’t Sebastian, of course. Too thin, too tall. But damn it, from a distance, it might as well have been.

“ Sebastian! ”

“What?” He raced into the room with wide eyes. “What is it?”

She started the video over as she worked on the other monitor.

When it got to the person leaving the scene, he shoved forward. “That kinda looks like me.”

“Yes, it does,” she said as the explosions went off.

He jerked, startled. “What is that building?”

She told him, and then the conclusions the magical world had already come to. It was all over the message boards on the magical dark web.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered, needing to watch it again. He stopped on the image of the person, just like she had. “No one has come forward to claim this?”

“Someone definitely has.”

She clicked into one of the forums. The Elliot Graves account.

The message had been typed for them. Posted on their behalf from their account.

I do love watching the world burn. This time, I had to set the fire myself. Sorry for your loss, Momar. Maybe beef up that security a little more, hmm?

“Did you do this?” Sebastian asked her.

“Of course I didn’t do this!” She clicked into the account setup and saw that a few details had been changed. Under account holder, now it said, “Mommy Monster.”

Nessa’s eyes flicked over to the encrypted phone. She snatched it up and turned it on. She didn’t care if they found her and Sabby’s location. It was time to move, anyway.

“Who has the knowhow to hack into our account?” Sebastian asked, taking over the mouse and going back to all their posts. Only one was from someone else. The rest were untouched.

“Any decent hacker can get into an account on this platform. I’ve hacked into many.”

Jessie’s team had that hacker in O’Briens. He was plenty good enough to do this. She had no idea who had been playing Elliot Graves in that video, but it wouldn’t be challenging. Neither would hiring people to set off those blasts, assuming they had the money.

Ivy House definitely had the money.

A new message waited on the phone.

Ye think ye’re a monster, do ya? Ye ain’t got nothing on me, girl. Thanks for the help thus far. I’ll take things from here.

“Niamh,” she murmured.

She stared at the message dumbly before holding the phone out for Sebastian to take. Next, she stared at the frozen image on the computer. Her mind churned. Niamh obviously knew about the deaths Sebastian and Nessa had framed them for. On behalf of Ivy House, was she taking revenge?

“She doesn’t seem mad.” Sebastian put the phone on the desk. “Is she getting even?”

“I don’t know,” Nessa said, drumming her fingers on the desk. “That act pushed our strategies into an entirely new direction, though. Remember when we were hashing out the plans for the visiting gargoyles, and she showed us that she’s really good at connecting dots?”

“Yes. And good at knowing how to push buttons. Remember that torture session with the mage that one time? When the mage went half mad?”

“She has something up her sleeve.” Nessa chewed her lip. “Why is she being so flashy about it? We’re not flashy people. We don’t blow up buildings like that. We don’t show ourselves. Hitting Momar like that…” She leaned back. “I have to think about this. He’ll want to retaliate.”

“But…so?” Sebastian leaned against the desk.

“He already wants us taken in. Or dead. This isn’t going to put any more urgency on the situation.

And after this action, the whole magical world will know we stand against him.

That we’re openly defying him.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “That might’ve been a good move, actually. Bold, but…good.”

She continued to chew her lip. She wasn’t so sure. She had to think about the implications, how it would alter her current plans.

“Why would Niamh retaliate?” she muttered, her gut tightening. “Maybe she didn’t sound mad, but you know her. She’s not one to take out her anger on someone. She just slowly makes your life a living hell instead. Do you think maybe Jessie is pissed and Niamh is handling it?”

Ye ain’t got nothing on me, girl.

“Do you think they’re turning on us because they think we turned on them?” Nessa asked in a small voice.

“I don’t think Jessie is capable of turning on someone. She’d want to save us, not hurt us.”

“Jessie will protect her people at all costs. We’re no longer her people. If she thinks we’re against them now…”

Sabby put his hand on her shoulder. “Even if they did, they can’t find us. We can hide from them as easily as we can hide from Momar.”

Her stomach churned now.

She didn’t want to hide from them. She didn’t want to create enemies of her friends.

But in the end, it was inevitable, wasn’t it?

She was helping Sabby drag them into danger yet again.

First, they’d pushed Jessie to take the magic, and now they were making her a bigger target.

Enemy Number Two, right behind Elliot Graves and the Captain.

How could Nessa expect forgiveness for that?

How could she expect them not to turn into enemies?

When all was said and done, Sebastian and Nessa had never believed they’d get to keep the Ivy House crew in their lives. What did it matter if their parting happened sooner rather than later? The result would be the same.

“It’ll get easier,” Sebastian said, hugging her.

The tears streaked down her cheeks. “I know,” she lied.

Because it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t ever get easier.

She knew that now. She also had no choice in the matter.

She’d made a vow to protect Sebastian and his sister years ago, and after Jala died, it was just Sabby she’d made herself responsible for.

He was all that had ever counted, repercussions be damned.

He’d chosen an end goal, and she’d vowed to help him see it through.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I have a new wrinkle to iron out, thanks to Niamh. Time to get to work.”