“Young lady, you’ll catch the death of cold out here at night with just a T-shirt.” He stood in the back door, a bag of bread dangling from one hand, a half-eaten cookie in the other, and his cheek puffed out like a chipmunk’s. His eyes narrowed at Austin. “Son, now…I understand the need to let the begonias air out—it is very good for circulation, no matter what doctors or my wife will tell you—but that is my daughter there, and calling on her at this time of the night without a stitch of clothing on is pushing it.”
“Yes, sir. I apologize. I keep late hours.” Austin turned, providing an opening for me to pass him. Jasper touched down somewhere within the trees, something I only felt, thankfully. None of us could see him.
“Here we go.” Mr. Tom scooted past my father in his house sweats. He carried more in his hands. “I was just bringing some sweats now.”
“So the cape isn’t just for suits, you wear it with leisurewear too, huh?” My dad shook his head at Mr. Tom. “We all like the idea of superheroes, but even Superman took his off once in a while…”
“Superman is just a—”
“Never mind,” I said, stopping Mr. Tom. We didn’t need to get into it.
Tight-lipped, Mr. Tom held out sweatpants for Austin. “Here, Mr. Steele. And miss, you can wear the sweatshirt so you don’t look cold.”
My dad nodded once. “That’s more like it.” Mr. Tom’s word choice, thankfully, hadn’t registered. “Don’t stay out too late.” He headed back to the kitchen.
“Thank God it wasn’t your dad that I had to convince about magic,” Austin murmured. “I don’t know if it could be done.” He ushered me toward Jasper. Edgar darted out from the bushes.
“Your tripwire worked, Jessie, congratulations,” Edgar said, smiling at me. “Job well done.” He turned somber. “I owe you an apology, though. It was not the basajaun after all. I have egg on my face.”
I waved that away. “What’d you see?”
“A larger deer, probably a shifter, snapped me out of a doze,” Edgar said. I glanced back at the house, really hoping my dad wasn’t looking out. Thankfully, I didn’t see a face in the lit kitchen windows. “It approached like any deer might, wandering through the wood and looking for food. After that—”
“I was watching. What about the magic? Did you notice anything about that strange glow around it?”
Austin slipped on the sweats before stalking across the grass, his stride long and purposeful. I followed, trailed by everyone else.
“Just the color, density, and reach of the glow,” Edgar said. “I was a bit too far away to get a more detailed look.”
“How good of a mage is the woman in town?” I asked as Austin tramped through the flowers. Edgar issued a soft squeal. “The one who makes the flower elixir. Would she know much about different spells?”
“No,” Mr. Tom said as Austin bent to the munched section, studying the ground. “She’s low level, which is why she’s in a small town making magical Miracle-Gro for a vampire so he can cheat at local gardening shows.”
“For the last time, it is not cheating,” Edgar said. “That sneak, Marg, could use the same elixir—”
“Grab me a light, Edgar,” Austin said.
Edgar let out a breath, like a tire losing air, before puffing into a swarm of insects and buzzing away.
“Miss,” Mr. Tom said softly. “Your father is back. He’s apparently as nosy as your mother…”
My dad stuck his head out of the back doorway. “What are you all up to out here? It’s a bit late for a garden party.”
“He needs double the dose of melatonin,” Mr. Tom murmured. “Or maybe a sleeping draft. That is something Agnes can help with.”
“Nothing, Dad,” I called. “It’s fine. Just head to bed.”
My dad stepped farther out. “Well, it can’t be nothing, what with all you gathering around in the middle of the night. You having some animal problems? I noticed something was getting at your flowers over there. First rats, now critters—this house is overrun!” He took a few more steps, clearly intending to join our huddle.
Jasper finished the transition into his human form, thankfully in the shadows of the trees. Likely my dad wouldn’t have noticed him from such a distance; not that it would’ve really mattered at this point. The cat had gotten out of the bag a few times over. It was amazing that he wasn’t giving in to it.