Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Didn’t they all.
“You’ve gotten used to this situation, then?” John asked, gesturing at the Ivy House crew. Hopefully, they’d been cut off by the bartender.
Tristan took a deep breath. “No. I’m still reeling half the time, even tonight, when I thought I’d known everything. That’s the thing about this cair--convocation. I’ve got cairn on the brain, sorry. But that’s the thing about it—you think it can only go one way, or two ways, or five, and it ends up going in a completely different direction. When you roll with it, and trust your team, and work with them, then it works out. And only then.”
“I don’t want a job.”
“I don’t care. Doesn’t change the situation as you sit here now, waiting for the next random thing to happen.”
John studied him quietly. This guy was taking it all in, moment by moment. It must’ve been the way he was programmed.
Tristan let him. A woman separated from a cluster within the crowd and walked straight toward him wearing a smile that said she had devious things on her mind. Her hips swayed suggestively, and her slinky blue dress rode high on her thighs and low on her bust.
He looked away with a distasteful expression. Maybe she’d get the hint—
“Hello, Tristan,” he heard. “I heard that—“
Light glittered along a blade, and energy coiled and churned around him as Nessa lurched forward. She grabbed the woman by the back of the neck, yanked her closer, and pressed a pocketknife against the woman’s throat.
“Approach my man again,” Nessa ground out, “and I will press this blade as deep as it can go. He is mine, do you hear me? I do not share. I have no problem with torture and less problem with unmarked graves.” She grinned at the wide-eyed woman. “Hell, all I’d have to do is throw you and all your friends off the side of this mountain. Unlike my boss, the ladies here don’t have wings. Splat!” She shoved the woman away. “Get gone while I still have my temper.”
The woman didn’t spare Tristan another glance. She and her companions hurried out of the bar.
“That last line didn’t make any sense.” Ulric scratched his head. “Right? Or am I missing something?”
“Oh, crap, Ulric, is that your mom?” Jasper pointed down the bar.
“Oh no! Tell her I went home. Call me when she’s gone.” Ulric ran for the back of the bar, knocking chairs out of the way.
Jasper bent forward in a wheeze. “Got him!”
Phil had turned from the bar to face Tristan. “I thought you were going to stop her from doing that! We’re here to keep the peace.”
“Nah. You’re here to keep the peace. And you’re not doing a great job of it from what I just saw. I’m here for a cognac. Niamh?”
Niamh shook with laughter. She put up her hand for the bartender.
“I will take that.” Phil tsked as he grabbed Natasha’s wrist and, with the other large hand, wrestled the blade away. “You are very sneaky, Miss Nessa. Where do you keep finding these weapons?”
“I’m seeing a completely different side to the basajaunak,” John murmured. “Completely different.”
“Better or worse?” Tristan asked.
“Better. Much. They’re actually a joy to be around now. They used to be a nightmare.”
That seemed like the summary of Jessie’s whole crew.
“Training Wheels told me about the trouble shifters are having with mages,” John said.
Tristan furrowed his brow. “Who?”
From the corner, he saw a hand go up and a finger point down. Aurora.
“Miss Alpha’s Daughter, Alpha-in-Training, Training Wheels.” She burped. “All right here.”
A laugh escaped Tristan. “Good one.”
“He certainly thinks so,” Aurora groused, and even though shifters seemed to have a great tolerance, she was in an alcoholic haze. Niamh and Phil had really done a number on this crew.
“Nessa, before all the shots…” John paused as she staggered back over to Tristan, threaded her way between his legs and draped herself over him, tucking her face into the hollow between his neck and shoulder. “She filled me in about mages in general. Why would the gargoyles join a fight that doesn’t belong to them?”
Tristan pulled Nessa in close, supporting her weight and feeling a delicious hum between their bodies. She moaned softly.
“Because gargoyles are made to battle. We want the fight. And we need a strong commander to lead us there. Give the gargoyles a cause and they will give you a favorable outcome. Why do you think Jessie and Austin are spending their time and effort trying to barge their way into a community that doesn’t think they belong? We need them if we want to win, and we have to win. If we don’t fight for each other, who will fight for us? Shifters are currently the targets, but if they fall, who is next? This isn’t an individual sport, it’s a team effort—for those who have the balls to play, at least. And Jessie and Austin have the biggest balls of them all.”