and died in the process, but instead she’d chosen to protect the magic. Stripping herself—and him—of magic and transferring it to the house had taken time. She’d had enough of it to consider abolishing the protector’s role. But she hadn’t. She’d chosen to keep the magic sharable. And in so doing, she’d ensured a long line of heirs followed her fate: going for the wrong guy and paying the ultimate price.
Maybe Sebastian was just a hopeless romantic at heart, but he didn’t think Tamara had done it out of bitterness. He believed with all his soul that she had transferred the magic that way—sharable—out of hope. He believed she had wished for a future heir to find the kind of partner she’d always wanted—and to give him the magic with an open heart and solid trust so that he might use it to protect her in a way no one else could. In a way she couldn’t protect herself.
The other heirs had all been young, however, and young people were more liable to make mistakes when it came to love.
Miss Jessie Ironheart was in a different phase of her life. She’d learned from her mistakes and had the wisdom to show for it. In her new life, she was more discerning, which was why she’d found what the other heirs had not—a partner who was worthy of her.
Austin Steele was everything Tamara would’ve wanted. He was designed for the protector’s magic, and he’d know exactly how to use it, Sebastian was positive. Austin probably wouldn’t even want it, or think he needed it. Which, of course, meant he was exactly the right person to wield it.
What a treat it would be to see it all unfold.
If Jessie didn’t kill Sebastian first.
He watched as the other shifters pushed to the front and entered the room first, moving as a collective unit.
Sebastian put his elbow on the desk and leaned his chin against his fist, watching in fascination.
They cleared one room at a time, like a police force in the movies, but without all the halting and hand gestures. They worked seamlessly, somehow communicating without speaking, utterly fluid in their movements. Having checked all the adjoining rooms, they returned to the large community room, which Niamh and the phoenix had since entered. The shifters nodded to them before retreating back against the walls.
Mages and shifters. What an amazing pair they would make.
“Uh-oh, Earl, the bad guy has shown you up,” Niamh called out with a grin.
Sebastian grinned, watching Jessie’s face as she finally entered the room behind a couple of others. Surprise and wonder lit up her expression.
“I knew it,” Sebastian whispered, his smile spreading. She’d always liked to nibble, he remembered. She liked cheese plates and chocolates. He’d figured this setup would be her speed.
A moment later, her expression shut down, but he’d gotten the payoff he was looking for. He turned off the cameras in her area to give her some privacy, something he wasn’t allowing anyone else.
She’d taken care of him in O’Briens, treating him like one of the team and trusting him with her life. She’d taken him at face value and judged him only by his actions and his integrity. He wanted to thank her by making her feel welcome too, even if she didn’t know it was in good faith. Not yet, anyway.
He was glad she’d come. He’d missed her—he’d missed them all. He’d missed training with an equal who didn’t judge him. Learning about shifters and other magical creatures. Feeling the thrill of fear—of being alive—and working as a team. He missed Ivy House.
He hoped to go back there someday.
He hoped Jessie didn’t kill him before he could explain.
Fourteen
I tried not to be impressed by the grand tunnel, lined with that lovely paneling that created a border around the rectangles of light, giving the impression of skylights in the middle of a mountain. I tried not to admire the cozy seating areas cut into the walls—an armchair on either side of a table holding a vase with blood-red roses, mulberry tulips, or butter-yellow daffodils. I desperately tried not to appreciate the murals painted on the walls, like looking through a window at the valley far below, the scenes rendered in a way that gave the tunnel more depth and an illusion of size. I tried, and I failed. Whatever else Elliot Graves may be, he had an eye for comfortable décor. He knew how to make his guests feel welcome, even in a collection of