Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Another man entered the room, a brick of a human with jet-black hair thinning on top, a layer of fat covering what must’ve once been a powerful body, and an aged but handsome face sporting a few laugh lines. His height topped Austin’s, but he was shorter than the guardian that walked in after him, whose face I knew from earlier.
The others quieted down. The other guardians, I noticed, were peering over Nelson, Gimerel’s leader, to Tristan.
“Hello,” I said, still standing. “You must be Nelson. I had the pleasure of meeting your lead enforcer earlier.”
“What?” Eram hadn’t sat or grabbed his drink. “First Withor and now Nelson’s lead enforcer? What’s the meaning of this? Why didn’t I have access to her before today?”
“Sir, may I offer you a drink?” Mr. Tom said from his position near Nelson.
“You may, thank you. How about a bourbon, neat?” Nelson walked in like he owned the room and stopped near me. “I am Nelson of Gimerel, yes. And you are wearing my bracelet.”
TWENTY-ONE
Jessie
“I am, yes,” I said, stretching out my hand for him to shake.
He took it, his eyes dipping to the bracelet, and then moved my hand this way and that to catch the light. He couldn’t keep his gaze there, though, instead finding the necklace draped delicately around my neck and the ring Austin had given me earlier. It was clear that his jewelry wasn’t the nicest I possessed, nor the costliest.
I refrained from issuing the challenge now. It was too early in the evening, and not all of the leaders were present. If the bracelet didn’t come up again, Austin had a few things he could say to restart the conversation.
“Austin Steele, the famous alpha.” Nelson took Austin’s hand. Their arms flexed and hands tightened until their fingers turned white. A pissing contest. It was Nelson who let go first, swinging his gaze to the others. “Eram, Withor—I haven’t seen you in…how many years?”
“Not enough,” Withor murmured.
At least I wasn’t the only one getting animosity. That was actually a little comforting.
“So.” Nelson sat down and flung his arm over the top of the couch. “What were we all carrying on about when I showed up? Something about previous access to the female?”
Mr. Tom came back in with the man’s drink as I felt more strangers enter the property. That had to be the last cairn.
Eram revoiced his concerns.
“Did you not send your lead enforcers to check out the premises?” Nelson asked before taking his drink with a thank you. “I’m shocked. You sent them to check out the…territory ahead of time, I heard. To secure housing. Quite a market, alpha. You have a lot of shifters falling all over themselves to move in here.”
“Shifters at present, yes,” Austin responded, getting comfortable again, but wariness rung through our bond. “Eventually we’re hoping for more magical people in general. Gargoyles have already found their way—”
“Those gargoyles don’t mean anything,” Withor said.
“Everyone in this territory means something,” I replied. “They can be a viable part of the territory without joining our defenses.”
“Very true,” Nelson said, nodding at me. “Everyone in this room should know that. What do you plan to do about housing?”
“As soon as we have some breathing room,” Austin replied, “we’ll be expanding the territory to accommodate the growing pack and building more housing within the established territory. I am from a large, prosperous, multigenerational pack. I’m well versed in how to establish and run a territory. Our people are our top priority and will be looked after.”
“Even in the event of a…skirmish?” Nelson’s eyes glittered.
Austin’s didn’t. “Especially in the event of a skirmish. We are always ready for an attack.”
The last cairn leader, the youngest of them all, finally reached the door with windswept blond hair, wide brown eyes, and a large smile. He clocked in at around Austin’s height but thinner, in his mid-forties, with a perfectly tailored navy suit, no tux. His brown leather shoes were trendy and cool and his wings fluttered as he walked into the room.
“Gentlemen,” he said to the room at large before bowing to me. “I have to hand it to you, Miss Ivy House, you have raised the bar. A Bacalar? This has to be a joke of some sort, right? How…” He put his hands on his hips and leaned forward somewhat comically. “How? That’s it. That’s the only question I have. How in the world did you come by that automobile? You weren’t even magical when they were all sold. I looked into you. I don’t feel bad about admitting that because you very thoroughly looked into me. When you were a Jane, you didn’t have the means or connections to grab a car like that. How’d you manage it?”
He leaned back and tilted his head to study me, dropping his hands.