Magical Midlife Meeting (Leveling Up #5)(67)

But Rufus went flying through his band of young mages. If not for the distance, Jessie’s spell would’ve probably ended his life. Maybe that was why she was staying so far away.

“The protector magic is different, and it doesn’t look like he has it yet. Or knows he has it. He’s not using it, at any rate.”

The great polar bear rushed in and swiped at someone, but didn’t connect the way he had in the last battle.

“He’s taking it easy on them,” Nessa said, riveted, just like Sebastian was.

Jessie dove, and all four male gargoyles quickly dove with her, covering her on all sides.

“She’s not a great flyer,” Nessa whispered, biting her nails.

Jessie sent out a thick ribbon of a spell. Before it got to Rufus, it fractured into spears and slammed into each and every mage on the other team.

“Oh!” Nessa jerked back in her seat. “Did you see that?” The mountain rumbled under them, shaking now, like an earthquake. “Oh God, Sebastian. Crap. Go!”

“Not yet,” he said, heart in his throat, shaking all over. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to work out.”

Because it had to. Because it was either that or it would be the end of him.

Jessie’s wings snapped open, stopping her up short. The largest gargoyle did the same before grabbing her around the middle and pumping his great wings, jetting into the sky.

The phoenix swooped down in bird form, sending a streak of fire into the air. She didn’t spray the enemy or catch their spells, like she’d done in the battle with Kinsella. She merely dripped on them.

It was plenty.

They screamed and ducked, diving away, clutching themselves and rolling on the ground.

The thunderbird swooped in next. A peal of thunder froze everyone before lightning zigzagged around him, catching people with its tiny filaments. But it was nothing compared to the defenses he’d shown in that initial fight with the gargoyles. He was holding back, too.

“What are they…” Sebastian looked up as the mountain lurched. The big gargoyle—Nathanial— was flying Jessie toward the top of the dome with powerful pumps of his wings. She was going to break through his spell.

“Sebastian.” Nessa pointed.

The basajaun had hung back, which was not like him. He was kneeling now, his palms pressed to the ground.

Nessa reached out and grabbed Sebastian’s hand.

“Here we go,” Sebastian said quietly.





TWENTY-FIVE

I HELD between my palms an intense ball of pure energy and power, pulled from everyone’s defenses.

Nathanial flew me up to the dome, knowing I needed speed and that my smaller wings couldn’t do that job. The gargoyles above us circled the dome, waiting to join us, eager to fight—I felt it clouding the air.

I answered with a pulse of power, not quite sure how or what it meant, but it felt as natural as breathing. I was meant to lead. It had taken giving in totally to my beast in the mating to feel it. To know it.

I liked it.

Somewhere below, I heard the basajaun roar. The rumbling of the mountain grew louder, more violent. A deep, subatomic groan spoke of large, probably horrible things about to happen.

I needed to make sure my people didn’t get caught up in that. Thankfully, I’d summoned enough gargoyles that we could transport all of our non-fliers to safety, much as the shifters might hate it.

When I neared the magical dome, I closed my eyes, drawing magic from my very core. Light flared against my eyelids, and I felt the heat between my palms as I hurled the ball with all my strength. A pulse of raw power rocketed out from the point of impact.

I felt the magical dome bend, stretch…and then shatter. Magic released in a heady wave.

Sky clear, gargoyles dove in around us, circling, waiting for what came next. Waiting for me to lead.

I pushed away from Nathanial, and he let me go immediately. I put out my hands to clear the gargoyles in my way and dove down to join the rest of the team. Isabelle and Kace circled the last two standing mages, flinging spells that only added to the strength of our defenses. They had courage but not much power, which was more than I could say for Rufus, who was hightailing it across the field toward the locker rooms, followed by five of his people, Edgar whooping and hollering behind them.

A few more mages lay on the ground, either curled up and hoping for this all to go away or (hopefully) playing dead. My team had showed their merit, and the mages had shown that they didn’t usually do a lot of actual battling. My early experiences in the magical world had clearly been unique.

They gave me an advantage. Regardless, the fight with Rufus was over.

The fight with Elliot had just begun.

Something told me that Elliot wouldn’t roll over and play dead quite so easily as the others. He had a list of faces on his wall. He was an outlaw. You didn’t get that status by playing nice.

The chairs in the small stands rocked. People jumped to their feet, hands out, looking at the ground, looking around, probably wondering if it was an earthquake. Elliot had already stood, hands out for balance, staring at me. I couldn’t read his expression, but he knew it was on. He had to.

He’d wanted to test me, to see what I was really made of, and he was about to find out.

I flapped my wings as hard as I could, pushing forward with as much speed as I could muster. The ground gave a mighty heave and the basajaun roared. The standing mages toppled over. The shifters braced or stumbled. Everyone in the stands was thrown onto their sides or forward. Elliot somehow remained standing, still staring at me, seemingly unmoved by the scene around him.