Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
I stared at him incredulously. “And you invited someone like me into your home? Are you out of your mind? I am the very epitome of someone standing in the way.”
There was that placating smile again. It was starting to really annoy me.
“All will be discussed in due time. For now, if you’d be so kind as to catch us up on…” Arthur gestured at nothing with the tip of his cane. “Well, how you came to be, I suppose. Then we could all have a little more insight into who you are.”
I did as he said, paying attention to Tristan, who hadn’t totally relaxed. I kept a firm eye on my connections.
Part of me wondered if I was being too honest and upfront with these people. Mages were sneaky, and what this guy had said did not line up with my dinner invite. The other part of me figured there was nothing to lose. I didn’t tell him anything that could be used against me in any way but socially, and if someone wanted to sneak into Ivy House to steal my potions or spells, they were welcome to try. Already had, in fact, or at least onto the grounds, something I didn’t mention.
A question-and-answer segment came next. Most questions I answered, and some I shied away from, like queries about my continuing education and whether I’d worked with any mages thus far. They didn’t press, just moved the conversation along, which made me relax more in their presence.
When it was time for dinner, I sensed the conversation was about to get more serious. Which wouldn’t have alarmed me if not for Tristan’s continued apprehension. Though slight, it being present at all was unlike him.
“You okay?” I asked him as the party moved from the sitting room to the dining room.
He scanned the walls and even looked back in the direction we’d come. “Yes. Mostly. Something feels off. I can’t put my finger on what, though.” He glanced across me at Austin. “Anything on your radar?”
Austin shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Do you want me to slink around the house a little?” Edgar asked quietly, following us.
“Yes,” Tristan told him. “Don’t get caught.”
“Oh, I never do.” Edgar drifted away, falling in too close to Ester, whose face lost its smile. She hurried to catch up to Bert in front of her.
I left him to it. He’d probably step on an invisible person and absolutely get caught, but I was confident we could explain it away. We were weird, and we did weird things. End of story.
“Maybe I’m just jumpy after hearing about the revenant,” Tristan murmured, always scanning. “I really don’t want to deal with one of those again, and that one seems worse than most.”
“Niamh seemed confident that it wouldn’t trouble us until it was ready to barter, and she seemed to think it would be a while before that.”
“She’s almost certainly right,” Tristan said, shaking his head. “Something just seems…off, though. Here. In this house.”
TWENTY-THREE
Tristan
He couldn’t shake his unsettled feeling. Like something was in this house besides them. Something was lurking with violent intentions, having slipped past the defenses. It wasn’t his territory, though, which would make it easier for this theoretical predator to evade his senses. His magic was the strongest on his home turf, wherever he’d established himself for the time being.
He watched Edgar dog the heels of one of the mages, making the mage hurry up out of nervousness, before falling back and finally slipping into the shadows and through a doorway, unseen. That vampire wasn’t good at detecting presences, but he had an amazing sixth sense for sussing out dangers to his clan. Hopefully he’d find whatever stalked these halls or plagued the large, spacious rooms.
Or maybe Tristan was just jumpy, like he’d said. Maybe it was the effect of the nightmares from last night, dredging up terrifying memories of his being hunted. Of nearly succumbing to the clawed hands wrapped around his throat. Of staring into the murderous eyes of a dead man. His father.
The mages and the alphas sat down to a large table in the grand dining room. For all they were playing it safe with their business ventures, they were clearly very good at making money. It made Tristan wonder just what kind of holdings the more powerful mages and their larger organizations were sitting on.
“Jessie,” Arthur began as the wine was poured. Cyra hovered behind Jessie and Austin, ready to taste. “You had asked why mages like us, who try to stay out of the way and lead mostly peaceful lives, would invite you here. It’s simple, really. We live a caged life. There is always the fear that we’ll accidentally get in the way. Or the Guild will want more than we can provide. Or that the mages’ world will continue to devolve until we’re faced with a situation in which we’re forced to choose sides.”