Page 94 of Magical Midlife Conclave

He took his place on the field. Sue stood beside me. He kept randomly glancing down at me as though I might run into battle without him.

“He’s a mage. I don’t need to engage,” I told him.

“I didn’t say a word.”

“I’m sure you did with your body.”

“Doesn’t count when you can’t read it.”

A man of about thirty-five strutted onto the field as though he owned the place. He wore loose sweats and no shirt, showing off rippling muscles. His stature, well over six feet, and breadth of shoulder made the wilting Sebastian look small and insignificant.

The big shifter stared Sebastian down, his gaze somewhat manic, his beast already peeking through.

“You got this, Sabby,” Nessa said from just behind Sue. “He is not even remotely as scary as the basajaunak.”

“True,” Sebastian muttered.

The shifter ripped off his tearaway sweats.

“You gonna wear that?” he asked Sebastian.

Sebastian looked down at his Ivy House sweats. They were from back in the days when we wore purple, and they’d shrunk in the wash. I had no idea why he’d chosen those.

“Yes?” He shrugged.

“I got challenged, too,” Nessa said as the shifter strutted around the space, smirking and talking smack about the coming battle. Was this professional wrestling?

Sue started and turned to her. Aggression lit up his body.

She patted his arm. “I told the shifter—one of Armendale’s—that I don’t have much magic, so I had no choice but to submit to him. He called me weak, and some choice names, so naturally I’m going to ruin his life. His mate will find out he’s been unfaithful in about”—she checked her phone—“oh, a half-hour or so. This fight is starting early. They bumped Sabby up. Fred helped me empty the shifter’s bank accounts. That money will go to his mate—only if she leaves him—and a child he pretends doesn’t exist. Well…” She tilted her head. “Except for the money I used to buy billboards in his hometown. In about a week, everyone will know his private browser search history, a few photos he really should’ve destroyed, and some illegal activity that Armendale likely won’t be too pleased about.”

Sue stared at her for a long, silent moment, before turning back to the shifter wasting time by strutting around the space. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to psych Sebastian out or psych himself up.

“If I accepted his challenge, Sue, he’d kill me,” she said quietly. “I know you don’t like how I go about things⁠—”

He held up his hand. “I never understood how you went about things, Nessa. I never fully understood why, and that’s because I didn’t understand the world you were forced to survive in. Now I do. You’re like Robin Hood. Can’t begrudge your looking after his mate and his child, no matter the way you do it. He didn’t do the right thing. You will.”

She teared up as a small smile crossed her face. “Thank you,” she whispered.

A couple shifters pushed to the front at the other side of the field, stepping into the reffing roles. They’d watch their guy, and we’d watch ours.

They looked at both Sue and me, their eyes alight with violence. Their hungry gazes swiveled to Sebastian.

“Sebastian is going to have an accident,” I murmured, like this was some kind of Mafia TV show. “How does that work? They let it get close and they help the struggling shifter die? Or mage, in this case.”

“Yeah, typically,” Sue said. “They get in the way of the other party, if there is one, and a fatality accidentally happens.”

“They really don’t understand mages.”

“A lot of the shifters at this thing don’t.”

“Well. If they try to do something stupid, there will be nothing accidental about their fatality.”

He huffed, his version of a laugh. “I thought you weren’t going to engage?”

“I’m not going to rush in to engage. I can do it from way back here.”

The challenging shifter, finally ready, turned into a jaguar. He walked at an angle to Sebastian at first, and then directly at him.