“Danica,” Tekkie said.
“Yes, Danica. And wouldn’t you know it, she said her nephew was at home doing nothing—
playing video games or something—and he could run us out. Well, that was just fine. So he dropped us at the edges—you know, because cairns can be wary of strangers, and I wasn’t sure if shifter packs were different—and then we walked in far enough to meet this fine shifter.” She pointed at the still-surly driver. “He’s a wolf, I guess. He wouldn’t show us his other form, though. Anyway, he drove us here.”
“Fantastic,” Tristan said, taking all of that without batting an eye. “How about this? Let’s get you that bite to eat or maybe just another coffee while the alphas chat, okay? Patty won’t arrive for another few hours or so. I’ll meet you there with Ulric.” He glanced at Kingsley.
“Take them to the Hot Plate,” Kingsley told the driver. “Tell them to bill me.”
“Fantastic. Here we go, ladies.” Tristan corralled them toward the car. “I’ll see you in just a minute, okay?”
“He’s handsomer than everyone says,” one of the women said as they got situated in the car.
“So large and strong, did you see his arms and chest? Phew.” Tekkie in the front seat started fanning herself. “I’d think it was a hot flash if I wasn’t beyond those.”
They cackled as the car pulled away.
I faced Kingsley immediately. “That’s not on me. This is not my fault.”
“Ulric is on your team, as is Patty,” Austin said with a smirk. “The garhettes are with them, and they are with you. So they are—”
“Tristan’s,” I said quickly. “They’re Tristan’s. He handled them so well, and they know and respect him. Tristan is yours, which then makes Aunt Florence…” I pointed at Austin.
“Yours,” he replied. “Tristan is a gargoyle.”
“This is all fun and games, but can they fight?” Kingsley asked. “Are the magical guns a viable option? Because if they can’t, we can stow them in the border towns.”
“You probably should anyway,” Ulric said, watching the car turn a corner.
“They have the strength, speed, and power of a gargoyle,” Tristan said, standing with us again.
“Just not the claws and wings.”
“They can fight,” Dave said, clearly remembering the occasion in which Patty had attacked him after a joke gone wrong. “They can help.”
“Many of the younger garhettes have trained in various fighting styles,” Tristan said, “trying to convince the cairn leaders to let them take part.”
“The magical guns are a viable option,” Nessa said, her phone out. “I’d have to pick them up from a…not very reputable character, but it wouldn’t be the first time. If those garhettes have courage—and given what we know about Patty, they do—we can station them around the territory and tell them to point and shoot. Worst case, they can guard the innocents. More hands on deck is not a bad thing here.
I say we use them.”
“But where are we going to put them?” Austin asked.
Kingsley shook his head, staring off in the direction they’d gone, before glancing over his shoulder at seemingly nothing.
“Desperate times,” he murmured. “I have room,” he said a little more loudly. “So do Mimi and Mom. We can see if anyone will open their homes, and we’ll fill up every last hotel or inn. Worst case, we can put the…less chatty garhettes in some of the friendlier border towns. They are more Jane than shifter, so as long as they don’t talk too much about why they’re here and what we’re doing, they should be fine.”
“Just when we get the tiniest handle on things, something else comes up and it all goes to hell,” I said, running my hand down my face. “First things first. Edgar, come on. We need to sort out those flowers. And I swear to you, if you get me into hot water with those things, I will finally retire you.
Do you understand?”
I didn’t even listen to his reply, instead walking off quickly for the car. The faster we got everyone situated and started training, the better. More gargoyles would be coming in, and now potentially a bunch of garhettes. There was no time to waste.
TWENTY-ONE
Niamh
KIDS SQUEALED with delight and came running when Niamh walked through the center of town in her
“scary unicorn” form, as the kids were calling it. Her golden hooves and mane sparkled in the sun, something that always made the garhettes loudly ooh and ahh. And there were now plenty of garhettes to do it.
Five days had passed since Aunt Florence had shown up. Patty had reacted exactly as Aunt Florence had said she would—talking to her network and telling them about the stand the garhettes were making in gargoyle society. First it had been the book club and a few friends who’d followed Aunt Florence, and then some younger ones—twenty-somethings—had shown up, followed by the sort of influx that had made Kingsley reevaluate his earlier stance on the more the merrier.
Gerard from Khaavalor had only gotten in yesterday with his people because the garhettes in his cairn had revolted against staying behind. He didn’t go into specifics, but the ladies had supposedly made life absolutely unlivable for the gargoyles. With Jessie’s approval, he’d brought those whom he’d thought would help the most, relieved that their inclusion had mostly appeased those who hadn’t made the cut.
The thing was, unlike the gargoyles, who strutted around and played at being Mr. Strong and Mr.
Tough and an unholy pain in the arse, the garhettes were mostly a real delight to have around. The ones who’d gotten taken in by families helped earn their keep, cooking and cleaning without being asked, looking after the kids when the parents were tired, and chatting and visiting in that easy, excitable way of theirs. There wasn’t one spare room in the territory that wasn’t quickly offered to a garhette, the wives deciding without even asking their husbands.
They’d mostly run out of space, though. Any more showing up would have to start camping in the parks, or head into the border towns. Given the latter still had a host of mages hanging around, Kingsley and Austin had come to a crossroads.
Kingsley had grudgingly accepted that there were probably mages in those towns, and the presences Austin’s people had sensed upon their arrival were very likely those mages. Logic.
However, the mages about town hadn’t made a move in all this time. They hadn’t started fights, they hadn’t abducted anyone to question them, and they hadn’t bothered the Dicks and Janes. They were a neutral entity, bringing money into the local businesses. As such, Kingsley didn’t want to go in, make a bunch of noise, and potentially have the border towns look badly upon the pack. His pack
had to continue living within miles of those towns when this was all through, and they needed to keep some sort of truce.