Magical Midlife Madness： A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel(30)

“You went and got her?”

“No. She made it to my territory and I stood in the beta’s way. The beta tried to push the issue, and I gave him a better option.”

“What option was that?”

“To leave peacefully,” he said, getting another glass of wine.

Donna barked out a laugh, spraying spit everywhere. “Sorry,” she said, hurrying to wipe it up.

“What am I missing?” I asked.

Austin swirled his wine.

“It was only peaceful after he ripped the beta’s tail off and permanently crippled his hind leg,” Donna said. “Which is not easy to do with a shifter. We can heal almost everything.”

“Wow. And…you don’t get in trouble for that? No one calls the cops?” I asked.

Austin straightened up as though he were stretching his back. Donna, on the brink of answering, tightened her lips instead.

“The magical world is…complicated. The slice of government that keeps knowledge of us secret also makes sure local police don’t get involved in certain magical issues. For that, we have territories. Each territory, large and small, is ruled by a magical group, like shifters or a hierarchy of mages. Most of the territories are fair and actually leave most of the law enforcement to the Dicks and Janes. It’s easier, cheaper, and let’s be honest, the slice of government that is supposed to be working for us is still government—it has its inefficiencies and bureaucracy problems. It has become more effective to let the Dick and Jane laws be our guiding light. But for some things purely magical, like shifters fighting for placement within the pack, for example, the territory leaders govern. And if those leaders are less than savory…well then, things can be dicey for the justice within that territory. It’s sad but true.”

“So what do you do if a magical situation gets out of hand but the…Dick and Jane government don’t step in?” I asked, a memory of a man in a cape feathering my mind. It wasn’t Mr. Tom. “Who do you turn to?”

“Here…it’s me,” Austin said. “Police in this town have very little to do. They usually only deal with Dicks. I take care of the rest. I’d like to think I’m fair and equal.”

Donna nodded adamantly. “Fairer than the law, easily. Because the law is upheld by those with prejudices. Austin Steele doesn’t give a crap who you are—if you cross the line, you’ll have to deal with him.” Lust sparked in her eyes. She busied herself with another bottle. “Virtually no one crosses the line anymore.”

“No,” Austin said, but he didn’t say it with pride. It was said in reflection as he strummed the stem of his glass.

“It’s cool that people have such faith in you,” I said, nudging him with my knuckles.

“And that is my dilemma with you, Jacinta. That is why I wanted you to fail—might still want it.” He must’ve seen something on my face because he held up a hand. “Remember that I don’t mean fail at life. At present, I am keeping this town safe. I am enough. But there are people out there who are more powerful than I am. More vicious than I could ever be. For the moment, they don’t care about this small town. We’re nothing to them. If nothing changes, this town will remain safe as long as I’m able to protect it.”

“And this is where I come in,” I said.

“This is where you come in.” He nodded. “I mentioned Tamara Ivy. She was an incredible sorceress. Her magic was exceptional, or so the records indicate. Powerful beyond compare. Robust and diverse. Very few magical people have ever possessed magic such as hers.”

“And that’s the magic you’re saying she put into the house?” I amazed myself that I was only sweating a little bit as I tried to keep up with these completely fanciful ideas. It was easy if you pretended you were talking about a movie you watched, or a book you were reading. I wondered when my grip on reality would wobble.

“Yes. That is the highly sought after magic that was transferred to the house. Only the one selected by the house can wield the magic, but there are powerful people out there with candied words and an affinity for manipulation. They may not be able to wield the magic themselves, but they could wield the magic holder. They can direct the magic, so to speak. Or so rumor has it.”

“And you said somehow…the magic leaves the house and…gets into another person? An heir?”

“Yes. Oftentimes the ability to receive the magic travels within the female family line. It usually skips a generation or two. Whoever has the ability to receive the magic becomes the master of Ivy House.”

“So Auntie—Peggy Havercamp has the magic?”

“No,” he said, pouring himself a full glass from the next bottle and a taste for me. It struck me that we should just head to the bar. This wasn’t really a tasting anymore—it was a mind-bender. “She thought she’d get the ability to receive the magic, since an heir hasn’t been selected in…three generations, I think. Maybe four, I can’t remember. Three hundred years or so, I believe. But the house did not choose her.”

I wiped my hand down my face. “So even if a Havercamp girl is born with the ability to get the magic from the house, she still has to be chosen?”

“They’re one and the same. Or, at least, they were thought to be. A girl child is born with the ability to receive the magic, and this birthright is usually why the house chooses her. When the house chooses, it imparts the magic.”

“Right,” I said, drawing the word out. “So Peggy wasn’t it. She had a brother, who couldn’t be the heir. What about Diana?” My face lost color. “It’s Diana, isn’t it? She’s the one!”

He shook his head, his focus acute. “Diana was taken to the house, I’ve been told. She thought it was a nightmare, right? The house should feel like home. She isn’t the one.”

“So then…” I stared at him.

He stared back.

I shook my head.

He nodded.

“Can’t be me.” I shook my head harder, as if that would be the deciding factor. “Can’t be. I have my dad’s salty nature and his bubble butt, among other things. I’m definitely his kid—my mom didn’t have any indiscretions. I’m not part of the Havercamp family.”

“This wouldn’t be the first time the house chose someone not of the current family lineage. Usually it chooses someone magical, but…” He shrugged. “Looks like you fit the bill.”





Twenty





Austin’s gut twisted as tears started in Jess’s eyes. None of this was fair. She’d left a hard patch in life looking for a fresh start, only to land right back in the stink. His heart went out to her.

He’d thought long and hard about this situation, sleeping very little last night and this morning as he mulled it over. Much of what Niamh had said was right on the money. His head might’ve said he was better than ever, but his body told a different story. He wasn’t as vicious as he’d been, preferring to maim instead of kill, or avoid the fight all together. He wasn’t as fast, and while he was every bit as strong or stronger, he didn’t bounce back from injuries like he once had. He was sore for days instead of hours.

Age hadn’t stolen his vitality, but he wouldn’t live forever. Eventually he’d need to pass on this mantle, and he’d find out there was no one to pass it to. No one strong enough, at any rate. Guys like him usually headed up a pack.

That said, he still had a solid ten years and probably a lot more. His kind didn’t live as long as Niamh’s kind, or Edgar’s or Earl’s, but he would live longer than a human, and he’d stay fit well into his fifties or sixties. By the time he had to retire, or a stronger enemy tucked him into his grave, most of the people he’d offered to protect would have long since been forgotten by their pursuers. They’d be fine. Safe and obscure.

Unless Ivy House went active again.

“But the house didn’t choose me,” Jess said, her eyes pleading for the comfort of the life she used to know. That life was gone. This was her new reality—magic. Possibly danger, if last night was any indication.

He took a shot of the scotch. He needed it. The wine wasn’t having much of an effect.

“Now we come to what I said about you failing,” Austin said. “Ivy House is coming alive with you in it. Mr. Tom—” He grimaced and shook his head. “Now you have me calling him that. Earl said you have been increasingly transfixed by the moving carvings. Those carvings don’t move for me. The house has already shown you how to access the passageways. I’ve been in there many times, actively looking for the passageways. I even know roughly where one is located. I still couldn’t find it. The master bedroom chose you. The orb won’t reveal a room you are in. These are all signs.”

Jess stared with her mouth hanging open. She was struck mute.

“Now, the house still might not choose you,” he said. “I can’t say for sure, but it is certainly leaning your way.”

“So then…what happens if I get this magic? Why would you want me to fail?”

“If you got that magic, all the seedy characters I mentioned would be drawn to this town. Suddenly O’Briens would be on the map again in the worst way possible. Powerful players in the magical world would want you to rule by their side. They’d want to harness your power for their own gain. They’d want you to have their children—”