Magical Midlife Madness (Leveling Up #1)(79)

“I’ll go start digging graves,” Edgar said, then poofed into a swarm of insects.

“Blech!” I stumbled backward. “Gross.”

“It’s fine, he won’t run into you.” Niamh headed for the back door.

“No, no. There’s a doll infestation in there. Let’s stay at your house tonight.”





Thirty-Two





Niamh wasn’t any more lenient in my terror of dolls than she had been with Austin. After much name calling and comments regarding my hysterics, we’d worked together to march the dolls back into their room of horror.

And when I say worked together, I mean that I hid behind her and let her talk me through controlling them (to some degree). No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to make them self-destruct. It was a design flaw, I was positive.

With the dolls locked in their room, it was time to set the house to rights. Which was gross on so many levels.

The dolls had done their fair share of carnage—which would give me nightmares for the rest of my life—and the house had taken care of the rest, spraying them with darts, dropping chandeliers on them, and disposing of them in a number of other nerve-wracking ways. The body armor of the wraith had been found, though apparently those creatures couldn’t be killed in a traditional way. It was probably the only thing that had escaped. I was supposed to be able to control this stuff, somehow, but realistically I just wondered if it was going to turn on me.

Outside was worse. My four allies had created their own carnage. I wasn’t complaining, because they’d saved my bacon, but good lord was it gross. Not to mention morally ambiguous. I couldn’t keep my snacks in my stomach as we transported the wicked into their new dirt resting place, making me wonder how many others had found their permanent resting places here over the many long years.

“Now.” Niamh wiped her hair out of her face, her emotions pleased and content. Turned out, I could read everyone, not just Austin. I wasn’t sure if that was a great thing. It made me feel responsible for them. I’d already shipped my kid off, I didn’t want to have to look after adult kids.

She walked into the living room—posture straight, steps light and graceful.

“Are you pissed you still look…older?” I asked, following her.

“No, no!” Mr. Tom ran in with sheets. “Don’t soil the furniture!”

“Why not? It gives you something to do,” Niamh retorted.

“Insufferable woman,” he mumbled, draping a white sheet over an armchair right before she collapsed into it. “No respect for antiques.”

“Ah sure, I couldn’t give a dog’s bollocks what I look like,” Niamh replied. “I have the tools to do the job, and that is a blessing, I won’t say it isn’t. I would’ve been happy to retire, but now, after getting another taste of life in the fast lane…I don’t mind this so much either. I think I have the best of both worlds.”

Mr. Tom covered a chair for me, and then two more for him and Edgar—who hadn’t come in yet—and walked briskly out of the room.

Not long after he returned, carrying a highly polished silver tray. “Drinks?”

Edgar flew in behind him in the form of the swarm of insects.

“No.” I shook my head. “No, Edgar. No bugs in the house. Absolutely not.”

“Well, thank God you said it. I was thinking the very same thing,” Mr. Tom said as he paused in front of Niamh, handed her a glass of what looked like beer, and moved on to me. I got a glass of wine. Apparently we weren’t allowed to choose for ourselves.

Edgar’s drink was also deep red, but it wasn’t wine, and I didn’t want to think too hard on that fact.

“Ahem,” Niamh said, and saluted. “Here’s to new beginnings.”

“I would’ve liked to see my old beginnings in the mirror, but beggars can’t be choosers, I guess,” Mr. Tom said with a sniff, then left the room.

“Trust me, even youth wouldn’t have helped that mug,” Niamh called after him.

“Have you tested your magic?” Edgar asked me, a red mustache from his drink.

I set my glass down, suddenly uninterested in its contents.

“I don’t know how to test my magic,” I replied. “I…don’t feel any different, honestly. I mean, my body feels more youthful, which is incredible, but…that’s it. That’s the only change I feel.”

“Give it time,” Niamh said. “You’re tired and this is all new.”

Mr. Tom re-entered the sitting room with a port-sized wine glass filled with white liquid. “I doubt you’ll ever feel any different,” he said. “That is why the house chose you, I am sure of it. To feel different would be an illusion. It would be an emotional response to your increased power and prestige. To feel like yourself means you are yourself.”

“Now we’ll just have to teach you how to use the magic,” Niamh said. “Too bad only Earl knows anything about it, and the male and female versions are wholly different.”

“She won’t need a teacher.” Edgar set his empty glass on the table next to him. “The house chooses, and the house provides. The magic will flourish within her naturally. She will not need an instruction manual, she’ll need an open mind.”