Magical Midlife Rogue (Leveling Up #12)

Chapter 1

Jessie

“Are you sure this is wise?” Kingsley asked over the cell phone loudspeaker. The phone was sitting on a particle board coffee table in front of a faded green couch with suspicious brown stains.

Austin slouched in a faux leather chair with glued-on patches. He rubbed the stubble on his face and hunched over, his eyes losing focus as he considered the implications.

“Sure, what choice do we have?” Niamh asked.

She leaned against a tobacco yellow wall that had probably started out white a few decades ago.

This was the best room available in this ramshackle motel on the outskirts of nowhere.

Only a few wayward truckers stopped along this route, servicing a collection of towns that people were born in and then moved away from.

At least, that’s what the thriving shifter population would have Dicks and Janes think.

This tiny town was the last stop before the paved country road turned into a gravel lane that led into the deep woods. Haunted woods, if the urban legends could be believed. And of course, they couldn’t.

In actuality, the woods were a buffer between the Dick world and a shifter territory run by one of the most ruthless original alphas anyone had heard of, an alpha so volatile he was said to kill visitors who looked at him crosswise.

He cut down travelers that darkened his doorstep unannounced and populated the alpha rumor mill with threats about what would happen to anyone who even thought about coming for his territory, now nearly a decade old.

“He’s had positive fitness reports from anyone who has checked out his territory,” Austin said, dropping his arms to his knees and leaning over. “His people seem happy. The territory has grown and appears to be thriving.”

I stood by the window, looking out at the lush green foliage on the other side of the road. The dense canopy of trees shifted and swayed in the wind, charged with electric energy in dark gray skies. Despite the threatening late-April storm, the air hung hot and heavy in a way I wasn’t used to.

“This place doesn’t have tornados, right?” I murmured.

“Of course not, miss,” Mr. Tom told me, handing me a cup of what I could only assume was instant coffee. The town didn’t give us a lot of options. “Someone would’ve warned us if we were traveling into Doppler doom.”

“The people checking out the validity and safety of his pack have not been alphas nor necessarily powerful,” Kingsley said. “He is wary of other alphas.”

“He’s wary of other alphas that want to take over his pack and cash in on his hard work,” Niamh said. “Austin Steele does not.”

“What does that mean, about the fitness reports?” I asked, turning from the window and heading to the couch.

“Miss, no!” Mr. Tom hollered.

I started to sit down and froze. Austin’s head snapped up in alarm.

“What is it?” Kingsley asked through the phone, his voice louder now. He must’ve been leaning closer. “What happened?”

“Don’t you dare sit on that horror show of a couch without something under you!

” Mr. Tom admonished, bringing me a blanket.

“Have you no self-preservation? It looks like people have bled out on that fabric. You’d be lucky to only get a staph infection.

People have likely gotten gangrene from less.

With a couch like that, one open wound and you’re a goner. ”

I rolled my eyes but waited for him to drape the blanket on the couch, then plopped down as he half-shoved me on top of it.

“Ye nearly made me spill me tea, ya donkey,” Niamh groused.

“Now you I wouldn’t mind sitting on that couch,” he countered. “I’ll even give you the wound to get you started.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Mr. Tom spun across the room to admit Tristan and Broken Sue.

“Tristan.” Mr. Tom brought himself up to his full height. “I regret to inform you that I do not have any decent coffee, only the instant dredge we were able to procure from the Quickie Mart at our last stop.”

“That’ll be fine, Mr. Tom, thanks,” Tristan replied.

“We’d need to be knocking down a wall to fit in all this muscle, like,” Niamh murmured. “Jaysus, mind yer elbows.”

Broken Sue glared at her as he passed by, taking my spot by the window.

Tristan looked down at the empty cushion next to me on the couch. “Got another blanket?”

“There. See?” Mr. Tom brought one over. “He has sense.”

“More than I can say for ye,” Niamh told Mr. Tom.

“Fitness reports are the shifter way of ensuring a pack is doing things properly,” Austin told me.

“Pack standing in the shifter world is a little like the gargoyle world. Any alpha who wants a place with their peers will be concerned about the wellbeing of their people. A thriving pack should be a nice place to live, with prospering businesses, safety for children, education—everything a well-run town boasts. To prove their pack has these things, and that they are an upstanding alpha in the community, they will allow others in the shifter community to check in on them.”

“And that person types out a report?” I asked in confusion.

Austin hesitated. “Not a report, as such, but…”

“Gossip,” Niamh said. “They go and have a gawk, and then they tell everyone.”

“Allowing people in to see the territory is also a way to show off,” Kingsley said.

“With established packs, like mine, we would invite other prominent alphas to visit. When they did, we’d pull out all the stops, taking them to our best establishments and showing off our worth in various ways to prove we have a thriving pack. ”

“It’s to measure their willies,” Niamh drawled.

“Yes, fantastic. Crass language in the morning.” Mr. Tom sniffed. “Maybe we should go find a dive bar for you to reside in, some place you’d fit in a little better.”

“I already found one,” Niamh replied. “Doesn’t open for another hour.”

Austin ignored them. “It is also to ensure the alpha is providing a safe space for the people. Remember the alpha we had to tear down?”

He was referring to a month or so ago when we’d tried to get Kingsley’s friends on board with the convocation, and they’d had us take out a sad excuse of a man who’d been terrorizing a town. We’d dealt with him and his cohorts in short order, freeing the town of their influence.

Austin nodded, seeing my acknowledgement. “An original alpha who wants to rise in the ranks allows people, or invites people, into his or her territory to prove all of that. Prove he has the safe space, prove his territory is growing, show it thriving, things like that.”

“And this alpha did that,” I surmised.

“Yes,” Austin said. “In the beginning of his pack, he invited people in twice a year, allowing that person or persons free rein to walk around and talk to the residents. For the last few years, it’s been once a year, but his territory is said to be growing. His people are happy. He is a madman.”

I shook my head, thought about leaning back, and caught Mr. Tom’s glare. Best not.

“If he was a madman, his people wouldn’t be happy,” I said. “Obviously he’s just posturing and putting on a show. People thought you were unhinged, Austin, and that’s only because they didn’t know you.”

Kingsley snorted.

“Do ye hear her, like?” Niamh asked no one in particular.

“He’s still unhinged, girl. You just don’t care because he’s a big oul teddy bear with you.

” She paused for a moment. “But listen, she’s right.

He brought people in twice as often in the beginning for checks and balances.

He was making sure he was doing things the right way.

Not because of alpha ballyhoo, but because he wanted to do right by his people. We can all agree there.”

“Can we?” Tristan asked. “That seems like a leap—”

“And now that he is somewhat established, he doesn’t need as much governing.

He’s confident. He’s secure. But he is still opening up his territory for inspection.

That seems like a level-headed sort of bloke who’s interested in the wellbeing of his people, that does.

Now…” Niamh sucked her teeth for a moment.

“Not relaxing the way he is perceived…that’s another thing. Not caring about fitting in…”

Her voice drifted off. She was thinking. Working things out. She did that a lot now.

“There is a reason he has only invited in lesser powered shifters,” Kingsley said. “That speaks of insecurity.”

“I beg to differ, alpha,” Broken Sue said respectfully, turning from the window.

“This is possibly the difference in being a successful generational alpha and being an original. I was technically an original alpha. I challenged into my old pack, and I had zero standing or experience. Zero training. The people of the pack welcomed me—wanted me there—and I had lineage connecting me. My biological father had been loved. Even still, I had a great many dick-swinging alphas come in and try to take over.”

“Oh, joy, everyone has descended into crass language,” Mr. Tom muttered. “Well…I guess it fits the establishment.”

“The challenges grew less,” Broken Sue went on, “but they did not stop. Not until we started having mage problems. That pack had a lot of experienced enforcers with a thorough knowledge of the territory. The enforcers were essentially generational pack members. They greatly helped me. If this alpha has started this pack, in a new setting, then he might be trying to cut down the amount of work for him and his enforcers, and the danger to his pack. There is always going to be someone bigger and stronger, someone that might tear the pack away from him and jeopardize the people in it. I’ve seen many examples of it. ”