Chapter 15
Tristan
“These shifters, man.” Gerard put his fingers to his head and gestured like they exploded outward. “I had no idea they were this volatile. They do such a good job of holding it all in.”
The aggression in the air was palpable as they stood outside on the grass, having finished a subdued dinner an hour ago and then moving out to the non-alphas.
A few packs had already left, their bodies tight and eyes down.
None of the visiting shifters had dared look at the basajaunak lounging around the trees or grass.
The large creatures showed zero concern for the pounding hostility around them.
Alternately, the gargoyles laughed and joked and mingled, meeting friends from other cairns, people they’d met over the last couple weeks, and just generally having a good time.
They didn’t mind the basajaunak at all, not even the Elder.
They didn’t bother themselves with the stoic shifters, either, giving them plenty of space.
They might like to battle, but they weren’t idiots.
“They can be, definitely. But this lot…” Tristan took a sip of his drink. “Some of them are laughable. I had no idea how good I had it with Austin and Sue and all of them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some of these shifters are so firmly steeped in the concept of hierarchy that they base their worth on it. If they feel someone with less power, they want to claim dominance over that person. They get pushy and try to boss the other person around. If the other person has the same title, they puff up and take offense. They’d probably all be fighting right now if not for the basajaunak. ”
“Ah.” Gerard nodded. “Challenges galore tomorrow.”
“Probably.”
“They’re easy to rile up. I might try to challenge one, though they don’t seem to have many fliers.”
“No. And I’ll bet they go for the wings first.” Tristan felt adrenaline thrumming in his middle. “I don’t care. I bet I can prod one into challenging.”
Gerard laughed. “I’ll let you go first.” He scratched his chest. “Why didn’t Jessie and Austin invite any of the garhettes? I thought they were part of the fight now?”
“Jessie thought they’d work with the basajaunak and settle everyone down.”
Gerard scoffed. “Or else they’d take offense to something and beat down some shifter.”
“Or maybe that, yeah.” Tristan grinned. “They were at Ivy House earlier having their third garden party.”
“Oh, chasing the gnomes around?”
“Yeah. They’ve staked their claim. None of the gnomes venture close to Ivy House anymore, but the garhettes aren’t having much impact on the deeper woods.
The gnomes have organized, I guess. When the garhettes venture too deep, the gnomes overwhelm them and force them back.
It’s a full-scale war with very strange weapons. ”
Gerard bent over, laughing. “What kind of weapons?”
“Well, the gnomes have their garden supplies, and the garhettes have random household objects, like brooms and rolling pins and whatever they have at hand. I saw one chasing a gnome around with a chair.”
Gerard kept laughing. “Why?” he wheezed. “Why not actual weapons?”
Tristan’s grin was crooked. “I don’t know.
Maybe because magical guns don’t work on them?
Or maybe they just like the brutality of bashing a gnome with a blunt tool and we don’t have enough swords or mallets?
” He thought for a minute. “Actually, do we have any? Maybe we just need to get better weapons. I forget to inquire because the garhettes always just handle everything. I’ll mention it to Jessie. ”
“I actually want to watch that all unfold…but I’m scared.”
It was Tristan’s turn to laugh. “Wise man.”
Sebastian walked up with a stiff body and zero swagger. He was dressed like a casual Elliot Graves but currently acting like an uncomfortable Sebastian.
“What’s up?” Tristan asked the mage. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Sebastian pulled at his collar. “There are a lot of shifters here who really hate mages.”
Tristan scanned the crowd, finding Nessa chatting with a group of three guys.
She leaned and swayed and laughed, touching arms or brushing her fingertips across chests, keeping their attention and their interest as her energy swirled and danced around them.
She’d figured out a long time ago how to influence people, subconsciously pulling on a type of magic no one seemed overly familiar with.
Or maybe mages just discounted it, opting for the robust spells and potions and prizing anyone good at them.
Now she was learning how to consciously work her magic, blending it with tactics she already knew worked.
He pulled his gaze away lest he keep staring, mesmerized by the beauty of her movements and magic. By her.
Images of their night together flashed through his mind. Memories of her touch and her soft moans. The serenity of waking up curled around her, feeling her heartbeat against his palm and her breath warming his neck…
“Tristan?”
“Huh?” He snapped his focus back into the present, meeting Sebastian’s troubled gaze. “What’s the matter? Do you have trouble?”
“I think Nessa is overdoing it. Usually, she could work a crowd like this all night, but she’s never used magic before. I don’t think she realized how much it would sap her energy. She’s never practiced for long periods. She’s fading, but she’s like me.”
“How?”
“You know how I sometimes need Mr. Tom to drug me to sleep?” Sebastian’s gaze was imploring. “She needs to be pulled out of there, but I don’t know how to do it without causing a problem. She’ll want to keep going to help Jessie. I doubt she’ll listen to reason. At this rate, she’s going to faint.”
Tristan handed his glass to Sebastian. “Tell Sue or Aljoe what’s going on. Or Niamh. Have them tell Jessie in a way that doesn’t seem odd. We don’t need the shifters to know we are human. They take that sort of thing as a green light to cause a problem.”
“What a crazy breed, man,” Gerard said, running his fingers through his hair. “Do you need help?”
“No. I got it.”
“Thank you, Tristan,” Sebastian said, his voice infused with sincerity and gratitude.
Tristan started off across the grass, his pace casual. He couldn’t posture and strut with all these hostile shifters. He didn’t want to set one of them off and get drop-kicked off the edge of the property.
Nessa had moved on to another man, this one with a slimmer stature than a lot of others here and a somewhat looser bearing. He would be lower on the hierarchy. Her body language said she was trying to pass by; he was clearly not a target. He had stars in his eyes, though. He’d probably stopped her.
Tristan let his shadowy magic leak into the air around him, drawing the notice of several basajaunak. He inclined his head at them, hoping they read that he was in control.
The shifter looked up at him with widened eyes, freezing in fear.
Nessa turned in confusion as he reached her. Their eyes met and a slew of emotions crossed her face. All he could decipher, before she put back up her guard, was relief.
“Time to go,” he said gruffly. “I’ve shared you long enough.”
He scooped her up in his arms. She didn’t resist even though she said, “It’ll look bad if I leave right now.”
“No one is going to think twice about a handsome gargoyle skipping out early with the belle of the ball.”
“Handsome gargoyle?” She arched an eyebrow at him as he walked her toward the building. “My, what a big ego you have.” She put her hand on his cheek. “I should probably play along, hmm?”
She applied pressure, turning his face more toward hers.
He slowed as her lips pressed against his.
She opened her mouth, and he growled as he swiped his tongue against hers.
He nibbled her bottom lip before speeding up again, pulling away so he could see where he was going.
All he needed was to bump into an alpha and cause major offense.
Her hot lips trailed along his jaw. He held her tighter, his body pounding.
“Hurry,” she whispered.
A thrill raced through his blood.
He walked around the corner of the building into the secluded darkness.
“I have to set you down to shift.” He did so, but she didn’t step away.
Breathing heavily, she yanked his neck down so she could claim his lips again. That done, she reached down between them for his belt. This was going to happen right here.
So be it.
He palmed her breast with one hand and reached under the hem of her skirt with the other. He traced along the edge of her panty line before dipping his fingers in.
“Mmm, angel, you’re soaked,” he murmured against her lips.
She freed his erection before dropping to her knees. She took him into her mouth with greedy suction. He braced a hand against the wall, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
“I need you, Tristan,” she said, standing again, pulling him toward her.
Her back bumped the wall. He hoisted her up, leaning into her. Her legs wrapped around his hips. He moved her panties out of the way and rubbed his tip against her heat. He thrust, filling her in one smooth movement.
“Yes,” she groaned against his lips. Her hands fisted in his hair.
Her hips jerked, creating friction. He fell into her movements, an erotic dance with his perfect partner. They’d proven their physical compatibility their one night together, and it was no different now.
Her kisses turned desperate.
“Harder,” she breathed.
He complied, pounding into her depths. It had been torture these last few nights after he’d moved into Ivy House.
He’d been aware of her flitting through the house, avoiding him.
He’d stopped himself from finding which sitting room she was hiding in and taking a seat beside her.
Stopped from walking down the hall to her, seeking her touch.
Her presence. He kept hearing small sounds, wondering if she was sneaking closer to him.
If she was finally ready to give in to her desires.
To take his hand and fall headfirst into this feeling.