“We need to put in more parks,” Jess said as the driver pulled into the parking lot. “More kids are moving into the town, and they need a place to play.”
The front door to the building opened. As Austin gave instructions on where the van should park, Kingsley filed out with a line of his top shifters. They followed him down the walkway and to the concrete pathway in front of the building, their formation crisp and lineup perfect.
Austin’s gut pinched. He recognized every single face, most of them having wished him good riddance all those years ago. A few of them had always hated him. In the end, they’d all been on Kingsley’s side, not wanting Austin to challenge Kingsley’s authority even when Kingsley had offered to step down for the good of the pack. And that was how it should’ve been. Austin hadn’t faulted them for their stance. He’d been glad his brother had backup. But man, they’d been the worst, and he doubted they’d forgotten the past or gotten over their hatred of him. Dealing with them would be a rocky affair.
“I’m right here,” Jess whispered, squeezing his hand. “We’re better together. Stronger. I’ve got your back, baby. I’m here to support you in any way you need.”
She’d clearly felt his turmoil through the bond.
He gave her a soft kiss, letting it linger, before backing off and reaching for the door.
“I saw that, sir,” Mr. Tom said as Austin climbed from the van, the old butler waiting in his new tux with a straight back and an air of importance. “You might wipe off the lipstick unless you are hoping to start a new trend in which only half of the mouth is covered.”
Austin ignored him as the trucks and campers pulled into the parking lot. Kingsley didn’t show any of the confusion he must feel.
“I’ll just go sort that out,” Jess told him, hurrying to the first truck and lifting her hand for the driver to stop.
As practiced, Austin’s shifters lined up along the walkway, their line as perfectly crisp and uniform as Kingsley’s. The gargoyles did the same with Tristan standing at the head, his face uncustomarily hard and unreadable, easily the largest person in the parking lot.
As an introduction, it was perfect. His shifters had immaculate form, and the gargoyles fit right in with them. If it had been left at that, they would all have immediately felt like they were on a level playing field, ready to get down to business.
But then Jess’s crew exited their vans in a disorganized huddle. Even though Austin had wanted to
impress his brother and show his dissenters he’d come a long way, he could barely contain his smile.
“What do we do?” Cyra asked Hollace, much too loud for a whisper. “We didn’t practice with the basajaunak in campers. Should we get in a line and wait for Jessie?”
“As opposed to waiting in a blob?” Niamh asked before walking up in front of the shifters.
“How’re’ya doin’, Kingsley? Are ye well? Shite. I’m meant to call ye alpha. Sorry about that.”
“Find your place,” Mr. Tom told Cyra and Hollace as Nathanial walked to his position, Ulric and Jasper right behind him. “It shouldn’t be this difficult.”
“Said the guy not in his place,” Ulric murmured.
Indigo, the healer, hastened up with her luggage, having apparently forgotten they were supposed to deal with that later. Nearly to her position, she tripped and, because she didn’t let go of the stuff in her hands, crashed down onto her face. Her glasses skittered along the pavement, hopped the tiny curb to the walkway, and stopped against one of Kingsley’s shifters’ shoes. The shifter in question, Bruce, had a square face, flat top, and zero sense of humor.
He looked down at them, and then at her, making no move to either get the glasses or step forward to help in any way.
“Oh no, Indigo!” Cyra jostled into Hollace, trying to get to her. Ulric and Nathanial were already there, though, hauling her up and trying to separate her from her luggage.
“We’ll get it later,” Ulric murmured furiously. “Just let go— we’ll get it later. ”
“I can’t see,” Indigo told them, waving her hands. “Everything’s blurry. I need my glasses.”
“Here, use mine.” Cyra stepped forward and stripped her glasses from her face.
“Yours don’t have any lenses in them,” Hollace reminded her.
“Oh yeah. Well, where are hers—”
Cyra cut off as she spied Tristan. He’d stepped out of his line and walked over to Bruce with the grace and confidence born of a natural fighter. He stopped in front of the other man, his stare hard and direct.
“Excuse me,” Tristan said, and the viciousness in his tone was clear. He bent, his gaze slipping from Bruce, his head bending, exposing the back of his neck. He was making a statement—he didn’t think Bruce posed a threat. One could argue it was a challenge, something Austin knew Tristan would be happy to face.
Butterflies fluttered through Austin’s stomach, but he didn’t move. Kingsley’s gaze zipped over to him as Bruce tensed up, unable to hide his response.
Tristan straightened as though uncoiling. He held up the glasses to the other man, standing just a fraction too close. His eye contact was definitely too hostile.
“You must’ve missed these hitting your shoe,” Tristan said in a dangerous tone. “Luckily, they didn’t break. I know you must’ve been concerned.”
The gargoyle paused for a long beat, tension curling through the air as Bruce flexed his muscles. A moment before the posturing slid into an actual challenge, Tristan pulled his gaze and stepped back.
He clearly had shifter protocol down to a science. He might be a gargoyle, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t play the game with shifters.
Well done.
Indigo was finally separated from her possessions and placed in her spot, behind the official members of Ivy House. Edgar came next, smiling, the suit he wore matching Niamh’s and not fitting at all.
Kingsley took in the vampire, looked at Niamh, went back to the vampire. When his gaze met Austin’s this time, he wasn’t able to hide his bewilderment. He’d met them before, sure, but time had
clearly dulled his memories.
The vampire hit the spot where Indigo had tumbled and let out a cry of alarm. He pitched forward, his hands waving. “Whoa!” he said as he crashed down onto his shoulder and then rolled dramatically.
“What are ye at?” Niamh said, sidestepping so as not to get hit by his kicking legs.
“What are they tripping over?” Ulric asked, looking at the offending spot. “I don’t see anything.”
“Thanks so much!” Jess called, pulling Austin’s focus away from the train wreck that was the Ivy House crew.
She came around the first truck, her hair catching the late-afternoon sun and a smile gracing her face. She walked with poise and confidence, her arms swinging, not at all concerned about drawing challenge with her animation.
He’d been worried this would happen. He’d been worried she’d call attention to her differences.