Magical Midlife Madness (Leveling Up #1)(44)

My mood fell down the well with his.

“I don’t have one of those,” I replied, staying civil. “You can just ask the pourers. They are all too happy to talk about their wines. It’s their job.”

“Yes, but I was…” The words drifted away from him as he got closer, catching sight of the organized daggers in the large middle drawer. Jewels of all colors and sizes adorned the golden hilts. The blades looked like serrated steel or silver.

“This is why I was checking out that spike. I mean…” I picked up one of the weapons that looked like it had a silver blade, perfectly polished. “This really does look like silver.”

“May I?” Austin put out his hand, his eyes tight again, as though this were a trust exercise.

“What do you think, I would randomly stab someone just because I have a knife in my hand?” I handed it to him, hilt first. “I live here now, yes, but I’m not unhinged like a couple of the other inhabitants.” I picked up another dagger with a darker metal blade. “In fact, I don’t even know where Edgar stays. I assume on the grounds somewhere because I have been in, or looked in, every room in this house and he is not in any of them. All but two—Mr. Tom’s and mine—are unoccupied.”

I pointed at the hand-drawn map I’d put together that morning. “The hidden passageways in this place are legit. I’ve documented five routes, so far. Don’t stay in this house if you want privacy from me, by the way. Turns out I’m the only one who can see everything. One of the perks of staying in the master suite, according to Mr. Tom. He can’t spy on me, but I can spy on him. Must be some crazy kind of facial recognition software built into the security system.”

His gaze was hard. “How can you be sure? I mean, doesn’t it seem more likely anyone who goes into those passageways can see everything?”

I squinted and nodded at him, my suspicions brought to light. “How can I be sure, right? I’d have to trust Mr. Tom, and he is a yes-man. Sure, his squeals seemed genuine after he saw what I’d done to his room…” I scratched the hilt to see if any gold plating would flake off. “I had him watch through the passageway orb while I messed everything up. He said he couldn’t see anything, and he about crapped himself when he entered the room, but still, he named all these weapons and assigned them homes. Who knows with him.”

“The arrangement of these weapons is certainly…odd.” Austin surveyed the wall again. “I can help, if you like?”

“Well, now,” I said, turning frosty. “That would mean I’d have to trust you.”

“And don’t you? Trust me?”

I opened my mouth for another passive-aggressive comment, hoping I could get my point across without actually having to tell him what I’d overheard—but I stopped myself. Why was I pussy-footing around the issue? I was upset, and I had a right to be upset. He was in the wrong here. If he got upset with my honesty, tough.

“No, I don’t,” I said. “I was looking through one of the orbs when you affirmed that you wanted me to fail. I heard you say that I was the wrong sort of person to have around these parts.”

I held his continually hard gaze even though it felt like my spine was about to break from the pressure.

He sighed, his shoulders bowing a little, and the blistering intensity of his eyes reduced until I finally sighed as well.

He pinched the blade. A sizzle preceded a string of smoke rising from the place he was touching it. “It’s real silver.” He dropped the dagger into the drawer and showed me the pads of his thumb and finger. Red burns marred his skin, already blistering.

I grimaced and took his wrist, dropping the dagger I held back into the drawer. I shut the drawer with my foot and dragged him toward the door. “Do you have a silver allergy or something? I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“You could say that.” He tried to pull his hand back.

“No, no, there’s a medicine kit in, like, five places in this house. A little anti-allergen or maybe some aloe will help that.”

I got him as far as the bottom of the attic stairs before he slowed us and finally stopped. My tugging now did nothing to budge his feet.

“It’s fine,” he said, gently extracting his wrist from my hands. “A few minutes and it’ll be back to normal.”

I scrunched my brow, looking pointedly at his hand. “That burn will go away in five minutes?”

“Yes.” He studied me, and something about the scrutiny made my stomach feel fluttery. “Listen, you’re right. I did say those things. And I meant them. I hadn’t thought things through at the time. I still haven’t totally wrapped my mind around it, to be honest.”

I took a step back, not having expected him to come clean so quickly. Part of me had wondered if he’d try shifting the blame onto me, something my ex had excelled at. I’d gotten used to the emotional manipulation.

“Oh?” I said to cover my shock.

“But parts of what I said you mistook.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned on my right leg, preparing. Here it came.

“I wasn’t implying that you were the bad sort who’d show up. You’re already here. You have shown up. I’m anxious about the people who will follow. And I don’t want you to fail. Not at all. If you’ve found a home here, I want you to thrive in it. That’s what this town is all about—second chances. New beginnings. It’s why…I have reservations about your role here.”