Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“What scale of attack was it?”
Niamh shook her head slowly. “Minimal. Nothing like Breakable Sue encountered. A bit smaller than what we saw at Drex’s.”
“That’ll be good to showcase at the conclave,” Tristan said.
“It’ll be good to showcase for the mages at large,” Niamh replied. “Hassle the shifters, without protection from Momar, and ye die.”
“Unless the shifters are in the wrong,” I amended.
“Yes, fine,” Niamh replied. “Assuming a group of magical beings that very clearly mark their territory and live by a very strict ethical code, not to mention try to keep magic under wraps from non-shifters, are ever in the wrong when in conflict with mages…we won’t kill the mages. How’s that?”
I pursed my lips before taking another sip of my wine. “It could happen.”
“Sure, yeah. Why not?” Niamh said.
Sebastian chuckled silently and then lost his smile when Niamh looked his way. He turned to study a painting on the wall.
Nessa descended the stairs as Sue and Aurora walked up the path.
“The mercenaries are a problem,” I said, setting my glass down on the coffee table. “We need to find a way to incentivize them to reject working with mages. At least in that capacity.”
“Working on it,” Niamh said. “For low-level mages, I don’t think it’ll be too hard.” Nessa stepped into the sitting room as the door opened for Sue and Aurora. “Keeping them from taking Momar’s or the Guild’s jobs, though, might take a little work.”
“They’d be afraid to say no,” Tristan said. “We have to make them afraid to say yes.”
Niamh didn’t glance at me, and that was very telling. I was learning to read her.
I leveled a finger at her. “We will be speaking about this. Do not go off and do what Tristan is suggesting without our talking about it first.”
“Oops,” Tristan said with a grin.
“What are you wearing?” Nessa asked me.
“Where’s Al—Austin?” Sue asked, he and Aurora waiting for Nessa to clear out of the way.
“Take your seats, if you please,” Mr. Tom said from behind them.
Nessa looked at my outfit and didn’t budge. She wore a tailored blazer with a textured pattern over a satin-type cream top, faux-leather pants, and a cream belt with gold accents. Gold jewelry draped down her neck and circled her fingers, with a gold watch inlaid with diamonds to match. Cream heels poked out of the straight-legged pants.
“What are you wearing?” I asked. “That’s not casual.”
“I said stylish casual. That’s very casual.” Her gaze turned to Tristan, who’d tensed. “What?”
I pointed at Niamh. “That is very casual. This…”
My words drifted away as I took in the newcomers.
Sue did have on casual attire, but he somehow made it seem sophisticated and hot. How? I had no idea. It was knit, for God’s sake. It looked like something a young and hip Mr. Rogers would wear. It wasn’t dressier than my outfit, he just looked hotter in it.
Aurora, though, had also understood something else from Nessa’s “casual” criterion. She wore a loose-fitting, gray sweater thing with big, brownish buttons at the side where it slipped off the shoulder. It flowed over tight white pants that ended in light pink heels. I had no idea how that outfit even worked, but it totally did, especially with her hair pulled from one side of her head and over to the other, tumbling down in a loose wave over her shoulder. Her blush-pink heels had brown dust on them, and I called that a win. Mine were at least clean.
“This is dressy casual.” I pointed at myself. “That is, like, the height of fashion, I guess, but if you wanted me to look actually fashionable, you really should’ve helped me. I can’t put an outfit together like that. It defies logic. I have no idea how it works even though it does.”
“Ye should know that,” Niamh told Nessa. “She’s never been fashionable before today. What did ye expect, like?”
“Not runway fashionable, no.” I put my hands on my hips. “I can dress nice. I’m very good at luncheon attire, for example.”
“What’s up?” I heard Austin say from the stairs.
Tristan rose, and I stood up with him, coming around the coffee table as the others cleared away.
“We’ve got a problem.” Sue explained the call he’d gotten and what he and Aurora had found when they got there. He mentioned Aurora’s figuring out how to track the invisible enemy to the tire tracks.
“Any idea what kind of vehicle?” Austin said, his tone hard.
“No. A car of some kind,” Aurora said. “No idea beyond that. We can get someone out who might know tires.”
“Gus at the auto shop,” Niamh said. “I’ll give him a call. He owes me a favor, whether he remembers it or not.”
“We can pay him. We don’t need work for favors,” I told her.
“Nonsense. I’m owed a favor. I’ve been waiting all this time to collect.”