Magical Midlife Invasion (Leveling Up #3) - K.F. Breene Page 0,83

I’d magically created. Niamh scampered into the trees, immediately lost in the shadows. Austin changed, blessing the faux night with an enormous roar. A moment later, an answering roar sounded in the street behind the front enemy, the basajaun having run along the other side of the house, hopped a few fences, and worked his way behind them.

I ran around to the front, my heart thumping. I just needed to make sure this group of attackers didn’t have the ability to conceal themselves from Ivy House, in which case, I’d leave this onslaught to the house and help with the more dangerous crew around back.

If they could hide themselves…

I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.

The non-glowing crowd at the front of the house shifted and shuffled around, bumping into one another. The basajaun roared, and I could see his head topping the crowd, his great arms lifted high and waving maniacally.

The crowd moved faster now, like a swarm of bees after a ball hit their nest. They turned toward him but back-pedaling, swords out, ramming into those standing too close to them. The people who’d been pushed staggered into the lines in front, finally making the first line edge onto the property. Their presences popped up in my mental radar. They hadn’t taken the potion to hide from Ivy House.

A gunshot rang out and I ducked and covered my head, unable to help it. Wide-eyed, I spun to look at the shooter, only to see my mom and dad in a second-floor window, my dad sighting again through the barrel.

“Oh—” Another shot rang out, blasting through darkness. Someone screamed and grabbed their leg, sinking to the ground. “Crap.” My word was like a wheeze of breath. I hadn’t thought he’d actually shoot! He was also not aiming to kill, which wasn’t ideal, given most magical people would heal quickly enough to head back into the fray.

Unless I could stop them from healing.

The basajaun grabbed someone and threw him at the crowd. He grabbed another man by the legs, bashed his head onto the ground, and then started pounding those around him with the body, gruesome as all hell.

The crowd surged, their courage faltering.

The basajaun pushed forward, manic, driving people toward the property. He flung the body, grabbed a wrist that held a sword, and ripped the whole thing clean off. He threw the arm at those backing away from him, crimson spraying, the sword flying free and stabbing someone in the back.

“Holy crap.” I ignored my churning stomach.

To avoid focusing on the carnage, I fixed my attention on the two people my dad had shot—only for another blast to ring out, dropping a third. Healing meant stitching things back together. So if I just focused on reversing that magic, it should…

Screams of misery tore through the boiling, surging people—the non-fatal gunshot wounds had started expanding, skin unraveling like someone was pulling a thread in a knit sweater. That someone was me. Oops.

Like eddies of water, the crowd backed away from the growling, claw-swinging basajaun and around the miserable sods who were unraveling before their eyes.

More intruders than my dad could handle surged onto the property. Ivy House took up her mantle as protector.

Huge metal spears popped out of the grass and from under the cement walkway as spotlights pushed up near the base of the house and clicked on, flooding the scene with bright white light. The intruders ripped their arms up in front of their faces, shielding their eyes, and the large arrow points at the ends of the spears gleamed.

I heard my dad say, “Martha, look at that! Booby traps!”

A body flew up over the crowd as the spears launched forward, the metal rods collecting bodies two and three deep before the cables that tethered them went taut and yanked backward. The bodies slid off as the spears locked back in place, passing through two metal rods obviously for that purpose, ready for another release. Another body sailed overhead and gas released from the grass, so thick that the light almost couldn’t penetrate it. Those caught in it began to cough, clutching their necks and chests.

“Basajaun,” I yelled, making a let’s go motion with my hand. Ivy House would alert me if anyone got past.

“Make sure he is protected through the fog,” she said to me, as though hearing my thoughts. “Don’t worry about your parents. Should the worst happen, I will force them away if necessary.”

“Wait, what?” I threw a protective bubble around the basajaun

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