Magical Midlife Meeting (Leveling Up #5) - K.F. Breene Page 0,58

Miss Ironheart. You have no need to worry,” Elliot said.

Noah snorted.

“Did you have a comment, Noah?” Elliot asked, hands still steepled.

“Forgive me. I thought you were telling a joke. Since…” Noah gestured at me.

“No, Noah, please. Enlighten us. I’m sure Miss Ironheart would dearly like to hear your thoughts on her…setup.”

Noah frowned and looked at the other hologram mages down the table, each of them smirking, snickering, or, in the case of the man who’d been reading the paper in the lobby earlier in the day, blankly staring. Noah shook his head. “Isn’t it obvious? When she’s not being a Jane, she’s one of them stinky gargoyles, and she has filthy animals around all the time. She doesn’t even have the power to cast a soul shadow. She’s a hot piece of ass, but—”

Rage blistered through the link, and it wasn’t mine this time. Every muscle on Austin’s large frame went taut. His jaw clenched. He slowly clasped his hands in his lap, his stare of death beating a promise into Noah’s head.

The situation would have been very precarious for Noah if he’d been present in the flesh. And he knew it. His mouth clicked shut and his eyes widened, just like Burke’s had.

Actually, just like Burke’s were doing again. Still leaning back in his chair, he lost what little color he’d had left.

I sipped my wine, basking in the glow of Austin’s rage, something within me purring at the feel of it.

“Yes, they are something, aren’t they, these shifters?” Elliot said.

The appetizers were brought in, and the server put one plate each in front of Austin and me.

“Here we have, mini cornbread crab cakes with a lemon-caper sauce,” she said softly.

“Thank you,” I said, setting down my glass. Cyra drifted up, on Austin’s side this time, sticking her butt in the fairly weak hologram of a man who looked old enough to be Father Time’s brother.

“Now. The subject that has been on everyone’s mind and all over social media for the past month…” Elliot pulled his hands away and leaned back, being served wherever he was. The others did the same. Once settled, he picked up utensils that didn’t show in his hologram and cut into something off screen. “Why are you here?” He smiled and popped a bit of nothing into his mouth, like a mime. The others followed suit, and suddenly I was mighty uncomfortable. Mimes had never been my favorite, although I guessed it wasn’t as big of a deal, since these guys could still talk.

Cyra finished her bite of Austin’s crab cake and tried one of mine. “Hmm.” She nodded as she chewed. “Very good. I have the best job there is.”

“Okay, but…” I picked up my fork and knife. “The wine I get, but if they poisoned the crab cakes, they could’ve poisoned only one of them, hoping it wasn’t the one you actually tried. You’d only have a one in five shot of tasting the poisoned one.”

Across the table, Burke stopped chewing mid-bite, his poison person having already been sent back to the wall behind him.

“Well spotted, Jessie—” Elliot’s voice hitched, as though he’d caught himself making a mistake. He cleared his throat into his fist. “I assume it is okay if I call you Jessie? We’re friends now, aren’t we?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Usually the first course is soup, since a person on poison duty would catch that, even with a slow-release poison. But individual morsels are more likely to make it through. Rest assured, I do not poison people that I mean to kill. It is much too simple and, quite frankly, boring. I prefer to play with my food, so to speak.”

Movement slowed and all eyes drifted to Elliot.

He wiped his mouth with an invisible napkin. “So, back to it. Why are you here? You must be incredibly curious. It’s simple: I mean to return to the magical world, and when I do, it will be with an ally. My intention is to pit myself against Momar and reclaim my title as the most powerful mage in the world.”

“You’ve been gone a long time,” the man next to Austin said. “Some might say you are out of the loop.”

“All would say that, I think,” Elliot responded.

“Which means you’ll have to build yourself back up. You’ll be vulnerable to attack in that time. I’ve seen your staff. You’re a little light on mages. There’s even a rumor going around that your head mage left.”

“Heard that, did you?” Elliot’s

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