Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Maybe we should all dress more formally.” Cyra looked around Austin to see Tristan. “He’s very handsome. I think we’d all look a little more handsome if we dressed better.”
“We do dress a little better usually,” Jasper said. “When we’re not going to a flower show.”
“Okay, okay.” Jess put out her hands to calm everyone down. “Let’s all get on the same page.” She looked pointedly at Jasper. “We’re just waiting for Mr. Tom to do…whatever it is he is doing, and we’ll get underway. What’s the transportation situation looking like, Tristan? Who’s driving what?”
She looked over the assortment of vehicles waiting behind them. There were a couple of sporty cars, one of which was the Porsche Jess had gotten as a gift, a few town cars, and a couple of vans. He’d assembled enough transportation to carry a party three times the size of the group gathered in front of Ivy House.
“The guardians will drive, miss,” he told her, his wings fluttering.
“Great. Which…ah…” She let the words linger, used to having Austin or Mr. Tom arrange the menial details, knowing she took joy from not having to deal with it herself.
Austin hadn’t mentioned that to Tristan. He also didn’t help navigate the situation now. He wanted to see if Tristan could acclimate to her easygoing personality after being with a regimented leader for the last fifteen years.
“There are more cars than guardians,” she finally said. “Who’s driving the rest?”
Tristan’s wings fluttered again, a gargoyle’s way of advertising their acceptance of a command or engagement in a conversation. That’s what he’d been told, anyway. In Austin’s opinion, it was essentially movement for movement’s sake, intended to draw attention to their wings, especially those with a larger set. The habit annoyed the shifters, but Austin wasn’t going to put a stop to it until he learned more about the layers of meaning.
“We can take whichever cars you would prefer, miss,” Tristan responded with a small bow.
Her brow furrowed. “Oh, I don’t care. Edgar, this is your thing. You can choose.”
Tristan’s wings stilled now, her delegation apparently throwing him for a loop.
“What a treat.” Edgar beamed, turning around to survey the vehicles. He started mumbling a pros and cons list to himself.
“Should I interject?” Tristan asked Austin in a murmur.
“Too late,” he replied. “Now you just have to ride whatever comes of it.”
“In battle and in training, she takes a firm leadership role. I know she’s easygoing, but I didn’t expect her to hand off the reins entirely.”
Austin allowed himself to chuckle. Gargoyles didn’t take exhibits of emotion as a weakness or reason for a challenge. To them, a predator was just as dangerous when smiling as when not wearing any expression at all. There had been a lot of shifter/guardian challenges before the other shifters had learned that lesson.
“It’s not handing over the reins, it’s letting someone else choose the transportation. She is a very laid-back person, yes, and she lived with a controlling man for half her life. She doesn’t sweat the small stuff. She’s used to letting someone else handle it. To keep control of the situation, I organize the environment and let her handle her crew. I’ve always said that I am the castle to her keep. You’d do best to think of it like that.”
He nodded slowly as the banter around them died down, ending with Cyra offering to demonstrate the best way to pee in the woods using her current body. Before meeting her, he’d had no idea phoenixes changed bodies like a Sims player changed skins.
“Here we go, here we go!” Mr. Tom zoomed out of the front door carrying a large basket. “I have coffee for everyone. Except for you, Dave. For you, I have a lovely herbal tea I’ve made from magical flowers. It tastes absolutely wretched to me, but I am sure you will love it. I have plenty of breakfast sandwiches and burritos—oh.” Mr. Tom stopped at the bottom step, looking at the guardians. “No shifters. Why did I assume there would be shifters?”
“I don’t know, but you made an ass out of you and me.” Jasper grinned. Then elbowed Ulric. “Get it? Because ass-u-med?”
“Well, never mind.” Mr. Tom continued down the steps. “I’m sure the guardians are plenty hungry. I have one more basket to bring out and then we are ready.”
“D minus—”
“Edgar, honestly,” Mr. Tom berated, stopping at the bottom of the porch steps. “Stop with that. One wonders if you can actually tell time. Why are there so many vehicles? Are there more people coming that I can’t see? I might need more coffee—”
“Okay, okay!” Jess clapped and walked forward. “Edgar, we need that decision. It’s time to go.”
“Yes, Miss Jessie.” Edgar loped toward the sporty cars. “I think I had better ride in the Porsche with Trident—“
“He means you,” Cyra told Tristan. “He’s bad at names. And thinking.”