Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
With Sebastian and Nessa out on their own, Jessie and the gang must join Austin to rally the shifters to their cause. The first a collection of open-minded alphas Kingsley knows well. All Jessie has to do is keep her people in line, and everything should go smoothly.
When has the Ivy House crew ever stayed in line?
Meanwhile, the mages face their own rising threat. Momar isn't like the Mages Guild--he's sharper, more ruthless, and far too close to uncovering their whereabouts.
As Jessie wrangles alphas and chaos, Sebastian and Nessa realize they've underestimated their enemy. They're in deep, alone, and this time, Jessie and crew aren't there to help
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
ONE
Tristan
“No, you’re being too subtle,” Jessie told Aurora, Alpha Austin Steele’s niece.
They all sat in the front room of Ivy House, empty coffee cups in hand, having a conversation about Edgar’s new attack flowers. The vampire was on version four or five or— Tristan had lost count after flower versions Y and T. No one was quite sure if Edgar realized the alphabet and number systems were different, or if he knew the alphabet at all.
Aurora angled her head a bit more, her meaning plain. I just don’t get it.
Jessie’s face scrunched up, and everything tensed. What the hell is she trying to tell me???
Tristan hid a grin. Well, the meaning was plain to him.
Aurora was in charge of helping Jessie learn body language in anticipation of meeting shifter packs, headed up by stoic alphas that took every subtle body tic as a complete sentence. Being Austin’s mate and the co-leader of this territory, Jessie would need to sit in on the meetings and help bring these new packs into the convocation, a merging of various species and groups of magical people that could hopefully push back against the corrupt Mages Guild and their biggest ally, Momar.
These alphas wouldn’t be as lenient with Jessie as Alpha Steele was, or as patient as Alpha Kingsley Baraza, Austin’s brother. Many likely wouldn’t be as reasonable as the alpha they’d met in Los Angeles, either. These would be shifters at the top of the power scale who wouldn’t want their rule and command overshadowed by a new, made-up faction, regardless of the aid they’d provided Kingsley. Or so the alpha rumor mill claimed.
Jessie would have to show that even though she was a past Jane—a non-magical person—and now a gargoyle, she still understood and respected shifter culture. Which wouldn’t usually be hard for her…except for the body language aspect. That was…tough going, it seemed.
A smile budded on Aurora’s lips. It’s funny when you get annoyed.
Jessie’s brow crumpled. Smiling isn’t allowed.
“You’re still advertising your every thought,” Aurora told her patiently. “Literally, every single one. Even if you don’t know what I’m saying with my body, you need to keep your thoughts and emotions buttoned up. It’s like poker. Remember when you taught me poker?”
Jessie sighed and leaned back. Defeated. “I do, yes. As I recall, you took all my money.”
Aurora laughed, very free and expressive with Jessie—for a shifter, at least. She never showed this side of herself to anyone else, not even her uncle. Jessie had a way of thawing even the hardest, most severely trained people.
Not for the first time, Tristan wondered if Jessie shouldn’t just stay a free spirit. Respecting shifter culture was one thing, but she shouldn’t have to bow to it. She was looser than even a gargoyle cairn leader with her crew, and that worked. She managed a lot of power with a distinct style of leadership. Changing who she was…minimized how well her style worked. Conformity wasn’t her strong suit—in Tristan’s opinion, anyway.
Then again, shifters were a rule-based, prickly breed. This was Alpha Steele’s show. He’d know what might work best to get other packs on his side.
“I think the answer is Xanax,” Jessie said, and leaned forward to put her mug on the coffee table. She paused when she didn’t see a coaster.
“Here.” Tristan dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out a scrunched, oblong doily. Edgar had grown worlds better at making flowers but somehow worse at the doilies. He really needed to find a new hobby for the quiet hours of the night. “Use this,” he said, and tossed it onto the coffee table in front of her.
She hesitated as she stared down at the craft item, her gaze tracing the large hole in the design and the loose strands of fabric making up the other side. Bewildered. Resigned.
Aurora started laughing again.
“When Mr. Tom berates me for this”—she set her mug on top of it and glanced at Tristan—”I’m blaming you.”
“Blame Niamh,” he replied, leaning away and throwing an arm over the back of the couch. He made sure to bend his elbow to keep his hand from resting behind Jessie’s person. If he didn’t, in shifter culture it would hint at a claim, despite how far apart they were sitting. He was practicing shifter rules as well, and a faux pas like that wouldn’t be easily forgiven.