Magical Midlife Battle (Leveling Up, #8)

OVER THREE HOURS after the battle had begun, the battlefield lay quiet. The fallen had dotted the land, but all of the friendlies had already been brought in, the enemies placed in groups. If Momar’s people wanted to come collect their dead, Kingsley would allow them to do it peacefully. He would not deny them the right to grieve.

So many of his men and women had been lost, yet it was far from the total annihilation that would’ve happened if they hadn’t had Austin and Jessie’s help. They’d cleared out all but a portion of the other side. Those who’d run at the first sign of the spell’s failure had gotten away. Anyone who had waited long enough to realize the battle was not going their way had been chased down by the basajaunak or gargoyles. Those creatures did not give quarter.

He kept his posture straight and mannerisms stoic, the rock his people would need right now, as he walked through town. He placed his hand on shoulders and took a moment to share grief with any who needed it. Finally, he made it to the square, to the injured warriors who were still hanging on.

This was what he’d been dreading.

He’d heard what happened. He’d seen his brother sprint back toward town as soon as they knew they were assured a victory. He’d looked like a man breaking.

What he found in the square stopped him short, though.

Gargoyles, shifters, and basajaunak sat in every available space, surrounding the wounded and filling the square. Warriors and civilians alike spilled into the streets and back between shops and buildings. They all held hands, many with eyes closed, softly swaying to a soft hum that rose above them all. Even the flowers had joined in, swaying with the people.

The cots were full with bloodied people, most of them lying still but all looking in the same direction.

“Hey,” Kingsley said, stopping by the first cot.

Eunice, a wolf shifter, shook her head, flicking her eyes to him. “I’m focused on the connection, alpha.”

Confused, Kingsley nodded and moved on to the next bed, where he was told something similar.

“What connection?” he finally asked after receiving the same answer for the third time.

“The connection with Alpha Ironheart,” the wounded shifter said, closing his eyes. “She’s still there. She’ll feel us. She’ll feel our support through the connection.”

He threaded his way to Jessie now, finding his brother sitting at her side, bent over her with his eyes closed, tears dripping freely down his cheeks. Kingsley stopped and let out a breath before composing himself again. Given Austin wasn’t raging, she must still be alive, but Kingsley had no idea how. Not with that extent of damage to her person. She must’ve gone through literal hell to get the job done.

The female mage—Nessa—stood at Jessie’s feet. She swayed and hummed softly, determination on her face. The rest of Jessie’s crew sat just behind her, holding on to one another, even the butler and the puca holding hands with heads bowed, eyes closed.

“If you aren’t helping, you need to find somewhere else to be,” Nessa said without opening her eyes.

Kingsley looked around for whom she might be talking to, finally catching the healer’s gaze.

Sitting by Jessie’s side, Indigo had her hands on her charred thigh.

“She means you,” she said matter-of-factly. “You need to connect, or you need to leave.”

“What—” Kingsley stopped when Austin’s eyes drifted open, and the ragged sorrow and desperation in them nearly buckled his knees.

Austin looked at Jessie’s face, more tears dripping down his cheeks.

“Please, baby,” he said, his voice raw. “Please, don’t leave me. Don’t go where I can’t follow.

Please come back to me.” He bent over again, his voice shaking. “Please,” he whispered, over and over. “Please.”

It was Nessa’s turn to open her eyes, her expression and bearing suddenly hostile.

“You will sit and connect, or you will be removed,” she ground out.

Tristan appeared by Kingsley’s side, no one caring even an iota about his alpha status. The gargoyle put a hand on his shoulder.

“Those who were in danger of dying have been seen to,” he told Kingsley softly. “Indigo left Jessie for long enough to heal them. It’s what Jessie would’ve wanted. No one else needs your attention right now. If you want to help, Nessa is orchestrating the crowd’s energy to try to get through to Jessie. Those who are connected to her gargoyle are trying to reach her that way, as well. It would mean a lot to all of us if you stayed, but we know you have duties.”

“Of course I’ll stay,” Kingsley said, not sure what energy thing they were talking about but assuming someone would show him.

The vampire drifted closer, clasping his fingers, his eyes haunted.

“This way, sir.” He directed Kingsley to a group of his pack who’d fought bravely on the front line, banged up but otherwise okay. They nodded to him, their eyes tight. None of them greeted him.

Many of them closed their eyes after he sat down.

“It helps if you close your eyes,” the vampire said, unfortunately sitting beside him. “You’ll feel it quickly if you’re open to it. I always feel it when my shadow is following me. It’s pleasant, and it helps me keep track of her.”

Aurora and Mac found him, both sitting down next to him and thankfully prompting the vampire to scoot away a little. Aurora took his hand as Mimi came over, then Earnessa and his mother. Together they bowed their heads, hand in hand.





THIRTY-SIX

Jessie

THE TUG WAS DISTANT, almost unnoticeable. A feeling, kind of. A plea.

“Please, baby,” I heard amid a strange rushing sound. “Please.”

I struggled to take a deep breath. Decided I didn’t really want to because that hurt too much.

Floating in the blackness was so much nicer. I just had to thoroughly let go.

“Please. ”

It was the tone that stopped me. The despair. The anguish. The voice expressed the sort of emotional pain that I felt physically through every inch of my body.

I took that breath, fire raging through me. Crap, that hurt like the bejesus. I didn’t want any more of that.

But the voice kept begging. Kept pulling at me.

And energy swirled around me, carrying support and well wishes, offering a hand out of the blackness. That was nice. My connections were also lit up, energy flowing from them, filling me with a rushing sound. If only it didn’t hurt so damn much…

I floated for a while longer, that voice still reaching me, the pleas constant. It made my heart hurt.

I sensed great loss in it. Loss I didn’t want. A connection I didn’t want to leave.

Oh man, this was going to suck.

I took another deep breath, and another, trying to ignore the horrible pain that came with it, growing and growing until it was too much for me. I couldn’t handle it.

After a break, I tried again. How the hell could the pain still be growing? This couldn’t be natural.

I pushed to the surface, hating every minute of it.

The rushing sound increased, so loud now, until it popped. Humming caught my ears then, soft and delicate and all around me, sung by many voices. Then that voice, that plea.

Handling the pain for a moment before I took another break, I forced my eyes open.