“Going outside would be good.”
With an incredulous look at Niamh, Jessie led him from the room, wisely choosing the side door.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Niamh said, “Get up, Earl, we need to talk to that thickheaded muppet. That gargoyle has the upper hand with this house—with Jessie—he should’ve been the bigger man and kept walking. He only stopped because he wanted to ride the rage of Austin Steele, the dope.” Niamh stalked to the door and paused, waiting to see if Earl would get up. “Did you know this door was here, by the way?”
“There are doors everywhere.” He groaned as he rolled onto the floor. “It’s the way Ivy House traps people in rooms.”
“I see that.” She waited for him to slowly stand. “Austin Steele had a lot of good points about how we’re training Jessie. She’s handling the battering, but does she need to be?”
“No, but we don’t have much choice. Damarion was… Oh, that is stiff.” Earl rubbed his neck as he cocked his head. “Austin Steele is like a tornado when he gets going.”
“He sure flung you something good.”
He grimaced and massaged his back. “Damarion was chosen, just as we all have been.”
“A protector is only chosen when he is given the magic and a seat. Damarion has been given neither, despite asking Ivy House for them.”
“Jessie isn’t sure about him yet, that’s why. She has the final say, not this house. But there can be no mistaking that her ability has grown in leaps and bounds in a short time.”
“Except in flying. She isn’t getting any better there…”
“No.” A troubled expression crossed Earl’s face as Niamh slid open the door without a problem. It fit seamlessly into the wall, as though there wasn’t a door in there at all. This house was tricky. “You don’t suppose she didn’t get that facet of the magic, do you? Surely she should be exhibiting some of the signs of flying by now…”
They made their way up to Damarion’s room by silent agreement.
“Austin Steele seemed to think we were going about it the wrong way…” Niamh said, thinking back over their conversation.
“Austin Steele wasn’t chosen to train her,” Earl replied.
“How could he be? He doesn’t want any part of this.”
“There you have it.”
Frowning, unsure about all of this, Niamh knocked on Damarion’s door. “I feel like we’re missing something. Maybe this is a test for us somehow?”
Damarion pulled open the door, his hair still wet from a shower and a towel cinched around his hips. My, but he was a looker. Jessie could certainly do worse on that front.
“What?” he asked, having fashioned himself Jessie’s second-in-command from the moment he’d set foot on the grounds. At first no one had blinked because he’d just saved her life and the other gargoyles naturally followed his command—this despite having only just met him, something she’d been surprised to learn—but now, after hearing all that Austin Steele had said, Niamh was starting to wonder if they’d been wise to accept him so readily. Maybe he wasn’t the best for Jessie, he was just the best that they had. Maybe she needed to send another summons.
Niamh suspected she’d get a better read on that after this conversation.
“What were you on about down there?” Niamh asked him. “You were trying to cause a row.”
“A what?”
“A fight,” Earl said. “This is not the place for a battle of dominance, especially when Jessie is standing between you two.”
Damarion straightened a bit more, full of righteous indignation. “This is exactly the place for a battle, and Jacinta is the person who must witness it.”
“And you think you’ll win, do ye?” Niamh asked with a chuckle. “Have ye not heard the stories about Austin Steele?”
“Stories grow bigger as the years grow long.”
“Not in this case,” Earl said.
“He’s a distraction to her,” Damarion said. “She won’t give in to me completely with him coming around. She needs to see me force him to submit so she can recognize the true alpha.”
“She doesn’t give two shites who is the true alpha, you muppet,” Niamh replied. “The girl is a Jane in her bones—she doesn’t even know what true alpha means.”
“I’m not sure he does, either,” Earl mumbled. Damarion bristled.
“Regardless, it doesn’t matter,” Niamh said, waving it away, “because they’re friends, that’s it. There is nothing romantic between them. He’s not your problem. Yer problem is ye’ve got limited game and you can’t read the situation. She’s too confident to give in to ye just because it