Chapter 15: How To Catch That Fade

Buck

CW: Physical violence

Finding a Voaremont wasn’t hard with two brothers living in town. And Trevor was one of them. This tiny detail pleased Buck to no end. He loved the idea of this bitch being close by. It’d be easier to keep an eye on him as well. Everybody knew where this particular Voaremont lay his greasy head because he was a prodigious braggart.
The second largest Indigo Plains estate sat on the east side, five minutes from town center. The brick and mortar pre-fae manor was a monstrosity.
Buck posted up a block down from the Voaremont estate with four stale bear claws and a steaming cup of sweet sandalwood mint tea. It was decent for a gas station blend, but still tasted like a dollar twenty-five. He didn’t complain in a crunch.
Accepting a long wait time, Buck eased his seat back and turned on something nice. He tore into his first bear claw and sipped, wondering what his wife and Jasper were getting into. He thought to text her when them gates cracked open.
“Okay now, where you off to, boy?”
Buck stuffed the second pastry in his mouth and started the engine as an SUV rolled onto Birch Drive. He had no idea where the bastard was going, but stayed on his behind. Ten minutes later, their trip came to a halt near Rackers Bowl.
He figured Voaremont was in the mood for a few strikes the moment he pulled into the parking lot. Everything was pretty normal aside from the fact that Nieema’s pick-up was in the same god damn lot.
“Son of a bitch.”
Buck snapped his gum and bristled. Parking in the back, he killed the rumbling motor and hopped out. With his eye twitching, he beelined for Trevor but stopped short as a familiar face appeared. They pointed to Nieema’s truck and were rewarded with a handful of big bills.
He’d been right, Voaremont had eyes on Jasper. It was always odd how people who claimed to be family were the first ones to stab you in the fucking face. Her cousin was a god damn rat. This wasn’t anything new, and it was a note he’d save for later. Trevor was his main concern, and when Juel left, Buck rushed for the man.
He was tall, wide, and built like an oak, everything Buck loved in a man. Despite his stature, the bitch was homely with ragged, deep-set scars across his cheek.
Now, on a normal day, a gentleman with battle scars turned Buck on, but tonight, he’d add to the canvas if shit got rocking steady.
No preamble or warning, Buck sidled up to the human and punched him in the liver. Trevor doubled over, and Buck locked an arm around his neck, smiling at a passerby.
“Evenin’ ma’am. He’s a lightweight, them long islands did his poor soul in.” The woman frowned and hurried into the bowling alley. “You and me gonna have a little talk, Trevor.”
He gasped for air and gagged.
“If you even think to hack it on my boots, I’ll make you clean every last drop with your tongue. Look at me, now.”
Buck pushed the wheezing, red-faced man into his truck, the door warping. He waited impatiently for Voaremont to breathe and recover.
“Who—“ Trevor paused to cough and spit. “Who the hell are you?”
“Me? I’m a daisy pretty boy, but I hit harder than a cinder block. Imma tell you this one good time. And I hope your dense ass hears me well, stay the fuck, away from Jasper Marrow.”
That got the young man’s attention. Trevor may have had graying temples, laugh lines, and dry skin, but Buck had him by six hundred years. Mr Voaremont was a sapling. A dead and dying sapling cursed with a ferocious fungal infection.
“Wai—how—who are you to her?”
“The last thing you need to be worried about is me. Motha fucka worry about your health and well-being. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
Buck slapped the shit out of the fragile human, drawing blood. Trevor smelled like an abuser. And yes, they held a scent. The bone-deep odor gave them away every single time. As dark fae connected to organic matter on a base level, Buck sensed these things. Nature as a whole knew a leeching parasite when they saw one.
Cracking his gum, Buck stepped over the slumped wretch and hustled into Rackers. A couple of sets was just what he needed right about now.
Music, neon lights, and fried food hit him first. That nostalgic aroma stained flat, retro carpet and leather booths. Rackers had been a part of Indigo Plains for seventy years. They were known for ice cold tap, grease-dripping chicken strips, and frothy blood. Folks all around town decompressed by picking a lane.
The atmosphere was thick with happiness and fun-filled vibes. He loved cosmic night and wanted to join whatever game Nieema had going. Maybe he could even raise the stakes.
“Look who it is!” Karl slapped the faded counter covered in stickers. “Don’t you look riled.”
“I ain’t, not yet.”
“Mmhm, lie to somebody else, cowboy. I got lunch in an hour if you need something.” Karl’s dark, sateen wings fluttered as he went to sucking on a rod of rock candy. Cherry was his favorite.
Karl snickered and piped, “A big ass thirteen!”
“How you know my size, Kay?”
“You forget how I tied your hefty behind to the bed?”
“When? Last year?”
“We need to jog that memory of yours, handsome.” Karl accepted the shoes and offered them. “Call me.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Grabbing his shoes, Buck winked then spotted his group on lane fifteen. Lady Luck was already on his side with their choice destination. Fifteen had won him well over ten grand thus far.
As Buck donned his shoes, he kept tabs on Nieema and how she admired Jasper. He knew the woman better than anyone; there was more to her grin than amusement. She wanted something quick and tough. Jasper wouldn’t be the one to give it, not yet.
Before he tied the last knot, Nieema lifted her nose and caught his scent. Her glowing focus flared the moment she found him. Buck tipped his hat. Nieema smiled and tapped Jasper on the shoulder.
On his swift approach, the succubus pivoted and startled. “Oh my undergods, who invited you?”
“I don’t need no invite.”
Buck gripped Nima’s nape and tugged her over. His greedy, hungry kiss was welcome and returned. The lovely vampire devoured him on the spot. Stopping his heart, she supplied the same love and affection. After a hundred years, them pesky monarchs in his belly waged war the moment their lips touched.
Roe clapped and grumbled, “Okayyyy, can we get back to the game?”
They shared a laugh, smiles ending their lip action.
“It’s good to see you, boy!” Buck pulled Roe into a hug. “You gotta get out more. Why, when something happens, you wanna show your face, huh? I invite you to every tea party I have.”
Roe slipped away and grimaced. “I hate tea, you know this. We got over it every—“
“Yeah, and the last time I nearly knocked ya god damn fangs out. Who don’t like tea?!”
The haughty vampire flipped his hair and went for a ball. “Anyway, let’s focus.”
“It’s not gonna do you any good,” Jasper said. “I’m cleaning house. So far, I’ve won two hundred dollars and a free meal.”
Buck popped gum, slid back, and skimmed the scoreboard. “Oooooweee! You lighting ‘em up.”
“Take it easy,” Nieema warned. “She ain’t that good.”
“Please, woman, she handed you that ass, and I do mean quick.”
Roe rolled his eyes and examined his claws. “But who’s in second place?”
“I’ll give you that.” Buck shook his head and tapped the screen to wipe the slate clean. “And my baby died last. It’s all good, you a champ where it counts, suga.”
“Fuck outta here! Start the game, you old oak.”
“She’s scary competitive,” Jasper said.
“It was worse when we were younger, but bowling has never been her game.”
Buck glanced at Jasper and considered her posture. Relaxed and arrogant, the spark in her copper eyes burning.
“You wanna put something on it?” Buck asked, watching her and checking for the right ball. “Up the stakes? I got something better than money.”
Her full, plum-stained lips twitched and lifted into a wry smile. It was a predatory promise,
“Sure.”
Jasper rose with grace only a succubus possessed. Her confident stride emboldened him to inch closer, testing her mettle. Jasper reached for the ball behind his, forcing herself into Buck’s personal space.
The perfume unique to a flirtatious succubus wafted. He fell victim to her intoxicating demon magic and growled.
“If you win,” Jasper started, her lilt like chords in a symphony, “you’ll have one chance to impress me. If I win, you never try me again, and you will leave me the fuck alone. Both of you. Like I said, I know what men want.”
Buck chuckled and snapped gum, their eye contact holding. She was a sentient fire. Living and breathing to burn all asunder. He wanted to stoke her flame.
Feed it.
“I’ll take that bet,” Buck whispered, a hairsbreadth away from physical contact. “When you start crying, I want you to remember this moment.”
Jasper snatched her ball and cackled. “Yeah, okay. Tired, played. Men make the same vows. You are simple-minded. All have failed to sway and shock me. You’re one of many, Buck. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Chilllleeeee.” Nieema wagged a finger and said, “You know what? Let me be quiet, cause—Jasper, the last thing you wanna do is piss this man off. Dial it back. He gon’ need to break somebody back, and I ain’t in the mood.”
His wife knew how them words were a quick way to get tied, strung up, and fucked into a coma. Buck glared and grabbed his lucky ball. Nieema threw up hands and allowed him the first break.
He didn’t want to intimidate Jasper, but she was full of shit, heat, and bluster. As their eyes locked once again, he stepped to the line and pulled back. Buck released the ball with the roll of his fingers. The green, shimmering orb was an extension of his irritation.
Seconds later, pins clattered on pine. Jasper’s jaw hung loose as she blinked, staring at the lane. At her side, Buck stopped with centimeters between them and whispered in her ear. “You ain’t the first succubus who has doubted me. I know where allat hubris leads.”
She made certain not to meet his gaze and shivered. He liked how Jasper went for her necklaces and flicked at them. This was a good sign, and he’d celebrate these small victories by winning a date with the petty demoness.

I wanted to take this time to once again thank you. Y’all are so patient with me, and i love that most. I want to start leaving author’s notes just to let you know how thankful I am that you took the time to read my little story. With that being said, we are moving along, and let me tell you, Buck is steadily surprising me. I’m about eight chapters ahead, and he is shining. He’s falling for the demon and quick. The old man isn’t afraid to speak his mind or disturb the peace. He will burn the world for the people he cares about.

Chapter 14: The Raven Queen

CW: Talk of domestic violence and attempted murder. There is a little rehashing, but not much. As always, if you have to skip this bit, please do. If you’d like a summary , feel free to let me know,

Nieema

Catching Monroe Thornbill with his pants down wasn’t new. Nieema didn’t bat an eye as his favorite piece of arm candy hurried from their spot between his legs and scrambled to their feet.
Nila was a whip-thin young vampire who smelled like vanilla bean and clove. Cheeks flush and lips glistening, they squared broad shoulders then bowed.
“Majesty.”
“Nila honey, how’s your mother?”
“In good spirits… considering.”
“Send my love.”
“I will.”
With that, they scurried off and closed the door behind them. A muffled thud gave Nieema the go-ahead.
“You ain’t working too hard, I see.”
“Girl, you know the shit I deal with down here. Please. I need something to take the edge off.”
“You’re supposed to be working, not getting head on the clock like some raggedy, uncouth dungeon troll! I aughta tear your hide, Monroe.”
The male scoffed and flipped his apricot, hip-length tresses. The boujee knowitall kept his hair flat and straight like an uppity Lightbridge faerie trollop. Nieema hated how the lovely shade made his dark skin glow. She’d never get away with orange. Copper, hell yeah. Clementine? Never.
The man was prettier than she but not too bright. That’s why she was queen; Monroe being ten years older didn’t mean shit to their daddy.
“Yeeees, I’ve missed you too, Nimmy. How are you? How is Buck? It’s been a while.”
She softened hearing her nickname. “I’m serious, Roe, what kinda example are you setting?“
“Please, Mother lectures me enough.” He smoothed lapels and scooted forward, focusing on what appeared to be blueprints. “I don’t need this shit from you, too. Besides domestic quarrels, drunken fights, and blood lust fever, I have nothing else to do. We are good down here, Nimmy. I got shit covered.”
“And what about beyond these walls?”
Monroe’s brows creased as he pinned a quizzical gaze upon her. “What about it?”
“There are demon hunters on the loose in Misthill.”
“Bullshit!”
“I wish it was.”
Roe’s derisive laughter was a joy to hear. It meant he was now in a foul mood, and given how his red eyes flared, someone would pay for their crimes.
“Do we have proof?” Roe asked.
“A witness, first-hand account.”
Nieema gestured to Jasper, and Roe glanced in her direction. He wasn’t the sort to know or keep demonic friends. Being burned rather badly by one turned him off completely, and every demon wore the face of his greatest regret. Nieema expected Roe to bristle at the sight of Jasper’s smile, but the exact opposite happened.
He smirked and spoke directly to a demon for the first time in probably fifteen years.
“RedMothStitch.”
“Oh my goood,” Jasper whispered, eyes now on the floor.
“Red what?”
“She’s a gamer,” Roe supplied, still smirking. “My son follows you.”
“You are?” Nieema asked.
As Jasper’s cheeks darkened, she twiddled with her necklaces. Nieema wanted to soothe her somehow. She was an anxious dame, and for good reason.
“Sometimes. It’s nothing big. A hobby. I only have two hundred followers and haven’t streamed since… well, you know.”
“I’ve seen your tips, Red Stitch.”
“I collect coin easy cause I’m pretty.”
Roe’s arched brow spoke to his amusement. Nieema grunted, unwilling to watch him reel Jasper in.
“We need to talk about this hunting business, Monroe.”
“Indeed.”
Nieema crossed the expansive office any staunch bureaucratic snake would love and dropped anchor on an uncomfortable leather sofa. Roe had old-world tastes, habits, and desires. He was obsessed with crystal decanters, aged scotch, and oil paintings. He didn’t own a phone or a television.
Roe still read the paper and loved classical music. He was stuck in the past, but refused to ride a horse.
As Jasper settled next to her, Monroe offered Nieema a warm glass of spiced blood.
“Thank youuuu. This the cinnamon one?” Nieema asked, scenting clove, cardamom, and luxe spice.
“Of course, imported from Southern Bruex.”
“Ohhhh, them desert fairies know how to blend, don’t they?”
“Always.”
Roe sat in his favorite high-backed chair with its worn cushions and scratched frame, swirling his glass.
“I apologize, ma’am. All I got is blood.”
“It’s fine. But I prefer Jasper over ma’am.”
“Noted.” Nieema sipped while Roe relaxed and Jasper fidgeted with her skirt. “So, tell me, what exactly happened and who tried to kill you?”
By the time Jasper finished talking, Nieema wanted his head. Trevor Voarmont was a piece of shit. A controlling, manipulative bastard. In her sleep. He’d tried to snuff her flame during a peaceful slumber. How cruel and cowardly. The only reason Jasper survived was due to her biology. The human hadn’t worn his protection charm that night, and Jasper had careened into survival mode.
After kicking his ass and scarring him for life, she vanished in a puff of smoke. This unique, involuntary fleeing response saved Jasper’s life.
Nieema stared at the raging fire nestled into a massive hearth. It was for aesthetic purposes only, lacking both heat and sound. Seemed harmless in such a cozy state. Some folks might think it was now safe to touch. Wrong! Complacency was a disease. For many moons, people like Trevor watched their step around Nieema. They respected her rule and dared not cross Her Majesty The Raven Queen. But time and shit had softened her a bit.
She didn’t wear armor, a cape, or wield a flaming axe anymore, but Nieema was still a fucking threat. As always, they’d learn the hard way.
“Nimmy, this is… sensitive. As you know, the Voaremonts are not your everyday citizens. They have connections from here to Brasshorne. They own the largest shipping company in the world.”
“They own half the rail line, too,” Jasper added. “This is why I just said fuck it. Trevor is the youngest of five brothers, but he is the smartest. His father won’t allow him to be—“
“No one allows me to do anything, my dear,” Nieema asserted. She dragged attention from Jasper to Roe.
“I don’t give a right fuck who they are, what they own, or who is in their pocket. I am the queen of Ravensguard, and when I declare law, I expect all to follow. It is in our Right of Life creed. No one is to hunt on Ravensguard soil, ever. If convicted, it is punishable by death. Without exception.”
White hot fury boiled in her veins and forced Nieema to her feet. She slammed her glass on the mantle, fixed her tie, and growled. The thought of anyone bearing arms and hunting turned her ferak, foregoing civility,
More often than not, Nieema ruled from afar. She didn’t meddle in her people’s business and gave them the freedom to be whomever they wanted to be. She kept them fed and healthy. It was stressful and difficult, but she had a great team. They had a competent council and expendable funds for a thriving nation.
But what she would not tolerate, under any circumstances, were hunters.
Vermin, pigs, vile beasts.
“When that god damn seal broke…” Nieema glared at a black and white family portrait. The Thornbill line was large, at one point, with well over one hundred members and six generations. There were only twenty-five of them left now. “When the human world went to shit, they decided hunting us for sport was a good idea. A lucrative business, their leaders said. We lived in peace with them for a millennium. When worlds collided, everything changed for the worse.”
Nieema faced her brother and let it be known. “I will not allow it! I refused to have anyone hunted like game in the very land our family rebuilt. I will not stand by and let a faction rise. Not as I live and breathe. I swear to Desidion, I will kill every last one if need be. You gotta get ahead of this, Roe. Because they don’t want me on they ass, I’ll cut ‘em down to the quick.”
Her brother lifted a hand and nodded. “I’ll go to Misthill and speak with the governor first. You sit tight til I get back. And I mean it, Nimmy. A war with the Voaremonts could bring Indigo Plains and Ravensguard to its knees.”
Nieema huffed, shaking her head. “I don’t want a war, Monroe. I need to find whoever is killing the supernatural in my kingdom and send them to the gallows.”
“Gallows?” Roe chuckled and crossed his legs. He watched Jasper and fiddled with his rings. “She says I live in the past.”
“I don’t want to make trouble for anyone,” Jasper said, picking at her claws. “I only wanted a quiet, lonely life. Where Trevor would never find me. I don’t want anyone else getting involved.“
“You don’t worry about us,” Roe supplied. “We know how to disarm the masses without making a mess.”
“I don’t want to create a mess either.”
“You, didn’t,” Nieema stressed, heading for a fully stocked wet bar. She refilled her glass with Golden Barrel Batch blood and went on. “Trevor and his bitch ass raggedy friends did. Do you know them by name, his friends?”
“Yeah.”
“This is good,” said Roe. “We can stop them and their affiliates.”
After a brief stir, Nieema returned to Jasper’s side.
“These events would have reached me somehow. If not you, then somebody else. I got eyes everywhere. And Jasper, I’ll put money on you not being the first or the last victim.”
The air around Jasper shifted, hardened. Nieema tasted her vexation and loved how sweet she smelled because of it. Syrup-soaked black cherries came to mind. Resolve sparkled within her ember gaze.
“You’re right.” She nodded and perked. “You’re so god damn right, and I hadn’t even—shit, I never even stopped to think about the others. Trevor is middle-aged. There’s no telling how many have come before me and disappeared?”
“Exactly,” Roe whispered.
“Let’s do it. I want to take him down. Let’s kill the mother fucker.”
Nieema laughed, set her glass on the end table, and matched Jasper’s stare. “Don’t worry, we will, but in the meantime, I need you to stick to my ribs. Stay close to me. Can you do that, dear?”
“Depends on where we are. I like my space and solitude. But if we’re out? Exceptions can be made.”
“Good, I like you by my side.”
Jasper scoffed, her brow arched. “You are not clever, Mrs Sunside.”
“That’s what they all say, until…” Nieema smirked while the succubus’s jaw ticked. “Roe?”
“Yes, Nimmy.”
“You wanna go bowling?”
“You want an ass whooping tonight?”
“Fuck you, tramp,” Nieema piped. She sought her brother’s wide smile and stood on ten toes. “I’ll wipe the floor with you. Hows ‘bout we get in a couple of games, winner buys lunch.”
Jasper stood and rubbed her hands together. “I do love a free meal.”
“Ha!” Roe grabbed his suit jacket and led the way. “You gon’ learn today, demon.”

Chapter 13: Wild Ride

Jasper

Jasper had nothing staring down the small, mighty woman. Nieema was an undeniable force. Her words were honest; Jasper tasted not a single lie. The confession simultaneously scared and comforted her. This person, these strangers, both Buck and Nieema stood in her corner. Without question or hesitation.
“I don’t know what to say,” Jasper whispered, touching and pinching her chains.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
Jasper may have been taller, but Nieema was the protector here.
“Okay.”
The vampiress gave a curt nod and said, “You’re safe with me, deary.”
Nieema patted the hand at her throat. “No need to be anxious, now. I ain’t gon’ bite.”
The air shifted, from tense to flirtatious, and Jasper was thankful.
“I do.”
“Tuhuh!” Nieema pursed her lips and spun on her boot heels, heading their journey once more. “With fangs like yours, you had better.”
Jasper dared not blush, though her cheeks heated all the same. Lucky for her, Nieema didn’t catch it. Sure, she was a succubus and had years, decades, a century of courting under her belt, but this… a vampire? She’d never crossed a line with one, and their intensity was a great reason not to.
Jasper burned hot on her own; she didn’t need another passionate soul in her bed. And what were vampires if not the embodiment of passion?
“Where are you off to?”
“I already told you.”
Following Nieema around the corner, she caught up with her in three skips. At five-two-ish, the woman’s tiny legs didn’t take her too far.
“Okay, buuuuut why are we walking away from your truck?”
“We ain’t taking my truck.”
“Theennn—“
“You see that?” Nieema motioned toward a cluster of grazing horses. “That’s our ride.”
Jasper squealed and clapped. “Horses?! We’re gonna ride? Oh my under gods! It’s been years since I saddled up.”
Nieema scoffed and said, “You being a rider don’t surprise me none.”
“You’re terrible.”
“You been warned.”
They shared a silent, fleeting moment and smiled. Jasper tucked hands into her skirt pockets and set her sights on the pasture. It was better than ogling or touching the woman without permission. Her fingers twitched and palms itched with an odd desire to stroke Nieema’s full cheek.
“Why don’t you have a stable?” Jasper asked.
“No need, these are my wildlings.”
“Your, what?”
Nieema whistled high, and it carried. The resonant peal was more of a serenade, a calling. The herds response was immediate. They galloped and trotted toward them with alarming speed. The ground rumbled with their swift approach. Jasper stepped back, preparing to run if needed. She wasn’t in the mood to be trampled, squashed, or bedridden for the next week.
Granted, demons healed quicker than most, but she’d never fractured her spine or skull.
A sharp, short whistle from Nieema stopped every last horse. Jasper was astounded by their width and height. The snorting and wild group shone in shades of red, brown, and evergreen.
Majestic and beautiful, gold, silver, and red petted their wavy manes.
“What breed?”
“Murkwood. They are large enough to carry an orc and their wares.”
“Magnificent,” Jasper muttered, assessing a fine speckled horse with blue irises and horns. They snorted and nudged her. “Hello, beautiful.”
“That’s Pots, she likes you.”
“And I like her. Haaay Pots.”
The animal gave another snuffle, and Jasper laughed, patting Pot’s snout. “You are a lovely girl.”
“She is, but we ain’t riding her. She’ll throw your ass off and laugh about it. Chester!”
The bulky red horse pranced, circling them.
“You not cute! Why you showing out in front of company? Get over here, you diva.”
Chester was happy to greet Nieema, and she him. They were adorable, and Chester was intelligent. His searching eyes and telling dance spoke of his effervesant personality.
“Now, you wanna get on up?” Nieema asked.
Jasper quirked a brow and gestured. “How? Chester is taller than me! I don’t see stirrups, a saddle, or reins.“
“They’re too smart for all that shit, trust me. They know where to go, when to stop, and when to move ass.”
Jasper knew horses; undervell didn’t have cars. They had the railway and carriages, pulled by a demon-bred horse. She’d been taught to ride at the age of four. So yeah, she understood these creatures, but never had she seen them perform on their own without direction. Even human-bred mares and stallions needed instruction.
“Does this have something to do with magic?”
Nieema’s slow smile was to die for. The show of fang wasn’t bad either.
“Nowww ya getting it. You want my help?”
“Sure, yeah, okay. Give me a boos—whoa!”
Nieema had clutched Jasper by the waist and hoisted her high. “Mind that skirt, girl.”
On the horse, Jasper giggled and patted their flank. She peered down, into Nieema’s prodding gaze. “You and Mr Sunside think y’all are slick. You’re not. But you are the first woman to pick me up. I’m feeling a way about that.”
“Good, I hope you do.”
Nieema jumped and mounted with ease, only a gravity-defying goddess possessed. She settled in front of Jasper and tapped her calf.
“You gon’ wanna hold on to me, Chester don’t know how to do nothing slow.”
“If this is your way of getting me to touch you—“
A terse whistle put Chester in motion. Jasper yelped as she was almost thrown from the steed.
“Hollly shit!” She wrapped arms around Nieem’s plush waist and tucked her face into the woman’s hair.
“I told you.”
Jasper laughed as Chester galloped towards the mountainside. As if Nieema cracked a whip, his speed ratcheted until scenery blurred and Jasper’s ribs rattled. Wind rushed between her horns and set her free. Jasper had never been one for flying; she hated it, naturally. Most demons preferred both or all four hooves on the ground.
“Is he going to stop?!” Jasper shouted, heart beating somewhere in her ass. She had never been in a wreck, even when learning how to drive a motorized vehicle. The thought of a head-on collision terrified her, and what about the horse?
“There’s a gate! He should stop! Chester! He has a death wish!”
The speed demon stopped on a dime, mere feet from towering iron gates. Nieema erupted in shrieking laughter and dismounted in a single fluid motion.
“It’s not funny,” Jasper snapped.
“Yeah, it was, you were scared as a spring chicken with a fox on its tail. Come.” At the ready, Nieema outstretched her arms and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch ya.”
Right into her trap.
Jasper groaned and shook her head, but slid down into Nieema’s embrace. She was small but strong. It was no surprise with her being a vampire and all, but it still caught Jasper off guard. Not too many lifted a woman of her size. Standing at six-feet-tall, before heels, with a good three hundred pounds on her, most weren’t physically equipped to handle Jasper. Let alone someone a full foot shorter than her.
On her own two feet, Jasper cleared her throat and removed her hands from Nieema’s shoulders. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.” Nieema snapped her cuffs and righted the knot at her throat. “Now… where is that—“
“Seven!”
A voice echoed from behind a shack with one window and two empty chairs.
“You summa bitch! That ain’t them trick dice, is they?”
“Hell nah. I’d never cheat you, Leroy.”
“You a ghat damn lie!”
“Just roll, and hurry up.”
Jasper snickered at their back and forth. It was playful, familiar, and entertaining. At least until Nieema cocked a brow and knocked on the box.
“Who in the—we expecting somebody?” A slim man dressed in a dapper waistcoat, trousers, and a pocket chain slid from behind the shack. “Tomorrowwwww. shit! Get up, Roy. Get—“ The fellow snatched the other, his identical twin, to his feet. “Majesty.”
“What in hell are y’all supposed to be doin’?” Nieema asked, scarlet stare bouncing between the two.
There wasn’t much difference in their dark complexion or their features, aside from the hair; it’d be hard to tell them apart if Jasper weren’t a Succubus.
The brother with short, rainbow locs bowed at the waist, smelling like gun smoke and lilac.

“Majesty, we do so apologize. Yes, we are on guard duty. But Leroy and I were taking much-needed respite.”
Nieema crossed her arms and sucked her teeth. “Really? And just how long was this break?”
Leroy cleared his throat and fixed the bat pin on his cravat. “Thirty—thirty minutes, madam.”
Compared to his brother, Leroy was airy, like fresh linen and the first day of spring. He was lighter and not the one with a pistol on his hip.
“I see.” Nieema hummed. “Do I need to give some constructive feedback? Mose?”
“No, madam.” Mose flicked his swirling maroon gaze over and assessed. Jasper stared, knowing what lay behind his quick read. “Shall we ring?“
“No.”
Mose elbowed Leroy. The vampire hurried into their tiny hut. With the press of a button, gates creaked and parted, just enough for their entry. An impenetrable void stood before them. It was a flat, matte darkness she’d never seen a day in her life. And for someone born in Undervell, that was rare. She’d been exposed to every shade and shape of darkness imaginable.
This was a magical abyss, she was certain.
Jasper had never breached a mountainside nor a cave and was a little nervous about it. She inched closer to Nieema and followed her brisk step.
“Your brother lives in a mountain?”
“Mostly.”
As they crossed into bleak nothingness, Jasper screwed her eyes shut. She didn’t know what to expect and wasn’t fond of underground tunnels and such. She’d hated the idea of getting stuck, rendered immobile by rock and dirt. It freaked her the hell out.
“Jasper?”
“Yes?”
“You alright down here?”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Reluctant as ever, Jasper cracked one lid then the other. “This isn’t at all like a cave.”
“Not anymore it ain’t,” Nieema said, her voice echoing in a grand vestibule.
It was art. Every inch carved and sculpted to perfection. Murals, foliage, and sweeping statues surrounded them. The finer things didn’t sway Jasper much anymore, growing up with an obsidian spoon in her mouth. But she was obsessed with palace living. It wasn’t the privilege or free shit, but the artwork. From the daintiest jewel to the tallest column, everything was grandiose. Not a detail left untouched.
She knew royalty, and this was it. Within the heart of Keyhold Mountain was a castle.
A palace fit for a queen.
Cool, botanical-scented air circulated in the enormous atrium. It made for an inviting atmosphere.
“This is magnificent,” Jasper said, eying Nieema. “I can only imagine what awaits beyond them giant doors. Why don’t you live here?”
“Too drafty and stuffy if you ask me.”
“What? You’ve gotta be shitting me.”
“Wish I was.”
Nieema set her sights above them and the glowing chandelier, where a camera blinked in the corner. It was enough to open sturdy, stone doors. They were thick and no doubt heavy, but separated as if made of rice paper.
“Yup, a palace,” Jasper said, as the bustling main floor told her everything she needed to know.
“Another man’s trash and all that…”
“Nieema?“
“It’s pretty, but it ain’t a home.”
Jasper had a rebuttal at the ready, but thought better of it. Nieema didn’t look pleased to be here, and in a sense, they had such things in common. Back in Undervell, Jasper hated their mansion. It was akin to a prison rather than a home. She spent two-three cycles there at max. They didn’t have enough family to fill even half of the estate, but it was… stuffy.
This subterranean fortress was carved from the very stone of Keyhold. An iridescence sheen of purple and green winked around every corner. It was an elegant feat, one Jasper wanted to learn more about. There was history and culture here. In ignorance, she thought vampires unrefined, coarse creatures.
Her father’s library needed curating.
“How long did it take to build this?” Jasper asked as the wave of busy bodies parted for them.
People nodded or bowed. Nieema smiled at some and ignored others. Their journey was quick and silent for a while. Jasper was fine with admiring paintings and unfamiliar dark bouquets. The underground castle was unique and Gothic, but lacked dreariness. It was welcoming and warm, with soft crystal lighting. She adored the large, animated stained glass windows and giggled at the show of magic.
“Generations.”
“Amazing.”
After a decent trek, high gloss stone gave way to a crushed velvet runner. Entering a quieter wing of the castle, Jasper was curious about who and what was behind a bronze set of doors.
Nieema didn’t knock or wait for an invitation. She barged right in and paused in an office doubling as a library. Jasper followed close behind and sucked in a breath tainted with lust. She swayed as the potent dose nearly dropped her ass. Clutching Nieema’s shoulder for support, she scoffed at the view of someone crawling from under the desk.

The Universal Question

What are your top ten favorite movies?

This is one of my favorite questions of all time. Why? Because my first love is and will always be film. As a child and teen, I kept track of every movie I watched. I started this at around age 11 and didn’t stop until 15-16. At that point, I had seen 1200 films. I know that seems impossible, but don’t underestimate the willpower of an introverted adolescent. I assure you, it can be done. I worked at the movies and saw maybe three films a day. That’s not counting my Blockbuster trips and HBO binges. My ass was in the kitchen doing dishes for two dollars a day just so I could go see The Fast and the Furious six times in ’01 (not an exaggerator). That shit really happened. This was before streaming, y’all, it was a struggle if your ass didn’t have cable or a Black Box(IYKYK).

Anyway, back to my top ten. Warning! This list may make you cringe, curse, and gag. I like what I like! Get off my fucking back, okay! Jesus Christ. Let me have nice things.

In No Particular Order:

Fantastic Mr. Fox
Monkey Man
Fifth Element
Sinners
Goodfellas
Alien 2
Mad Max: Fury Road
The Kingsman
There Will Be Blood
10, The Mummy

There you have it! My idea of what Quintessential Cinema looks like. If you don’t do nothing else, watch Fantastic Mr. Fox. Please. Also, if you’ve got one, feel free to follow me on Letterboxd for more shit takes on film.

*Back to the Future ll and The Empire Strikes Back are top twenty. Just wanted to throw that out there.

The End!

So, I finished another MS and thank the Green Goddess because, y’all! I was struggling for a while there. I wrote two 70k novels last winter, and they aren’t finished. Which is unlike me on so many levels. When I start a new MS, I finish it, post-haste. No excuses, no distractions. Somehow, I got mentally cockblocked. By what? I don’t know. This was the reason I started writing novellas in the first place. I figured, let me dip my pretty big toe into another pond and see what happens. Wellll, y’all, it worked. I typed, ‘THE End’ on a 100k Historical Fantasy. And I gotta say, IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE BAAAACK!

Now I can carry on with my paranormal romance series. It’s ten books deep, btw, and nowhere near the finale. I breathe easier knowing I can move forward with Patches and maintain. I was worried there for a second, babes. Not that I don’t already have an end ready to go for our slutty trio, because I do. I was more worried about hitting an insurmountable wall. Fear of sputtering out midway through caused me to back away from lengthier projects. But, I am happy to say, I have conqured this titty-fucker of a writing demon. They have been banished! And hopefully, I won’t hear from them ever again.

SN: PW&P Chapter 12 is due this Sunday! Once again, thank you for reading! Have a lovely day, beautiful human!

Coming Fall 2025!!

F(40) AITA for dragging this stranger M(35) into my botched thieving mission? Listen, I got a bounty on my head, and I have a mystery package to deliver. I don’t even know what I’m doing. I work at a burger joint and live with my parents, but I wanted to do something HUGE for the family. Halfway into this thing, I now realize I wasn’t cut out for this criminal street life shit. I don’t have the stomach for it! He offered to help me! Is this life or death? Maybe. AITA for wanting protection, a free ride, and sexy times as well?

Something spicy, silly, and adventurous is on the horizon! Two idiots fall in love and try not to die in the process. This story is where monster romance, steampunk, and fantasy meet. I am super excited to introduce these two weirdos!

Here is a cute little moodboard!

MF steampunk fantasy romance moodboard depicting a Farris wheel, gold and blue eggs of some kinds, steampunk attire and the wide-open trail

Chapter 11: Steeped In Blue

Content Warnings:
Talk of domestic violence, attempted murder, and abuse
Please keep yourself safe, and skip this chapter if you must. And if you or anyone else needs help, please know that you are not alone. The National Domestic Violence website is available if you can’t access the Internet for any reason. The hotline number is 1-800-799-7233.
I am not here to preach, but I am here to let you know that I have been there. Here. In Jasper’s shoes. And they are not fun or comfy. I don’t write about DV with a light heart, it’s something I take seriously and handle with care because I have experienced it. Again, this chapter isn’t heavy or dark, but it isn’t fluffy; it’s sad and heartbreaking.
I will leave you with this:
All MCs who are hurt, maimed, and/or assaulted in my books will get their revenge. One way or another, the villain will not see peace.

Buck

Bunny’s wasn’t anything Buck hadn’t seen before. The tea room was peaceful with meditative music and mellow lighting. Harrison, the owner, made certain that whoever walked into his establishment felt welcome and lighter, stress-free upon departure. Tea was top three for Buck. Best way to take the jagged, rusty edge off was Nieema, skipping in the forest ass naked and tea.
He’d entered the tea room hundreds of times and thought nothing of the atmosphere or decor. Sipping with a newbie made him appreciate the fine establishment even more.
Jasper was in awe. As they lounged in his favorite room within the multi-floored space, she smiled into an orange blossom blend.
“You like it?” Buck asked.
She nodded and sniffed a bouquet of tea roses. The Verdant Suite was a haven for those who preferred the greener side of life. Comfort and calm surround them.
Fiddle Leaf, Monster, and Ferns cradled the cushy, well-used couch Buck slouched into. It seated four, which gave Jasper the space she required.
“I’ve never had tea so good.”
Buck shrugged, curling a finger into the dainty ring of his favorite porcelain. Bunny kept the customer in mind and offered cups in various shapes and sizes. Buck liked the mushroom set best.
“They got tea in hell?” Buck asked.
Jasper relaxed into the cushions and canted her head. “Not in a traditional sense. Not like this. We make mineral tea from rocks, bones, and teeth.”.
Buck coughed and dribbled his good bit of Slatewall Tea. He cussed, wiping his chin. That god damn royal jelly was going to waste.
“I’m sorry, you say what now? Teeth? Bone—okay, we do a ceremonial thing with ashes, but it’s not an everyday typa thing.”
“Weellll, you have your customs, we have ours.”
“Fair enough.”
The melody of trickling water filled a momentary silence while Buck watched her contemplate.
The urge to soothe Jasper frothed deep in his guts yet again. He imagined kissing the tip of her horn and forehead. To be that shoulder, the one she obviously needed but didn’t have.
“Jasper, can I ask you somethin’?”
Her inferno-like gaze found his, and Buck almost moaned. The flame danced on his soul and laved his skin. Mischief and madness lay behind her eyes. She smirked as steam billowed, framing such a fine portrait.
“Was my refusal not enough for you? Where is the respect you claim to have?”
He laughed and nursed a specific blend fit to squelch his desire better than sticking his dick in an ice bath. Not that Buck didn’t trust himself. He just knew how seductive her kind could be, and oftentimes, it was unintentional. But more than that, there was something about Jasper he couldn’t place.
It made him desperate.
Buck was a simple man who’d fall headfirst in a matter of minutes. Slatewall tea slowed the blood and brain.
“Contrary to what the world done told you,” Buck started, “we don’t always think with our second head.”
“You’re wasting your breath. I have a doctorate in manspeak. I’m a Succubus, I know men and know for a fact y’all are obsessed with hot holes. It’s all you think about. How to mount, get between, and behind.”
He smiled against the rim of his mushroom tea cup. “Alright, okay. It had crossed my mind a while ago. Once or twice. But no means hell no! Now, back to my question. This is serious, so stop trying to cast spells on me, demon.”
Jasper placed her unicorn cup on its saucer and snagged a finger sandwich.
“I’m not a witch.”
“Spells aren’t a witch thing. It can be taught. Now—”
“Wait, what?”
“Spells and charms are about intention. Pulling the magic from this very land and making it your own. Some, like me, are born of magic. It’s in my bones. Magic ain’t ‘for faes’ only.”
Jasper’s smile was so bright that Buck wanted to shield his eyes. And damn it, did elation look good on her.
Nibbling on a filthy cucumber and olive morsel, she hummed.
“What?” Buck asked, curiosity biting him in the ass.
“Can you teach me? Magic, I mean.”
“I can teach you some things, but Maggie is a master at spells.”
“Who?”
“My daughter. She lives on the ranch.”
“When can I meet her? After tea?” Jasper was cute and innocent as hell.
Buck knew she wasn’t, not really, but right now, she was doe-eyed and filled with wonderment. He couldn’t deny her anything.
“Whateva you wanna do, Jasper. But, you gotta answer my question first.”
She shoved the lucky corner of bread into her mouth and nodded. Buck was chillin’ thanks to the tea; he didn’t glance at her lips once.
“Go ahead. Ask.”
Getting real for a moment, he put his cup on the tiny plate and faced the woman. She recoiled a tad, but didn’t move.
“When you said, ‘again’. What did you mean by that?”
She shrugged, blinked, and set her mask in place. Jasper locked up that second and sighed.
“Three years ago, I met a guy. He turned sour. I lost myself. The piece of shit was a demon hunter who wanted my limbs, horns, and heart. I took off. My friends told me not to worry because he was rich, handsome, and connected. I was raised by a connected male, it seemed fitting. They didn’t understand, though.”
Jasper paused here, staring at a thriving fringed fern.
“He wanted me in the ground,” she continued. “I couldn’t tell my siblings or my Dad. I severed relationships and now I’m here.”
Buck scratched his denim-clad thigh, knowing it’d create a hole. He reached into his pocket, retrieved a piece of gum, then unwrapped said strip of cinnamon. Chew and snap. He popped and glared.
“Is he still alive?”
“Of course.” Jasper chuckled, though clearly nervous. “He knows too many people. I was terrified. And like I said, I couldn’t tell my dad. I thought this sorta thing was…It’s humiliating, shameful. But I’ve gone to therapy. I’ve even forgiven—“
“What’s his name? Curious is all.”
“Buck, I can read your soul like a paperback. You’ve gone from gray to black. What’s wrong?”
Dark fae, at their core, were wicked. Tricksters, murderers, or pests. They were untrustworthy and spiteful. Buck landed somewhere in the middle. Thanks to the tea, he was placid. Any other day, he’d slide into a dashing Teflon vest and load his Ruger.
He smiled, folding the flimsy aluminum wrapper, and pinned all of his attention on Jasper. Brows tight and mask gone, she was concerned.
Good for her.
“If you don’t wanna tell me, fine.” Buck cracked and popped during a pregnant pause. “But I’ma find out either way. Nothing online is truly erased. I’d rather not go snooping about your affairs, but I will. Ask Nieema. I’m stubborn as I am kind. My grandbaby, Mace, is a tech god, fuck genius. He can find anyone whether breathin’ or not.”
She sniffed, thought to speak, then huffed. Jasper’s resolve faltered as she pinched another sandwich between her claws.
“Trevor. Trevor Voaremont.”
Buck grunted and dropped the paper in his tea. What a shame, wasting such a nice cup, but this churned his stomach.
“Fortuitous,” he said, staring at a dazzling fern resting in a cow planter. “Chance in hell.”
“What is it? Talk to me.”
Clearing his throat, Buck turned to Jasper. “You hear me, and I mean good. No one is going to touch you while you reside here. Indigo Plains ain’t just any ol’ place. You will be fine.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“It’d be irresponsible if I didn’t tell you that the Voaremont family is fronting the bill for the new mall in town.”
“Holllly!” Jasper shot to her feet and paced.
Hyperventilation was around the corner, and he couldn’t have this woman fainting. Buck rose and stopped Jasper mid-stride. He grabbed her hands and spoke the truth.
“Nothing and nobody will bring you harm.” He met her frenzied, blown stare and said, “I won’t allow it. The ranch is protected.”
Jasper wanted to refuse, but he wouldn’t let her.
Buck dropped the woman’s palms and cradled her face instead. “You with the Sunsides now. Which means, you are untouchable. My grandson is the mayor, Jo is the sheriff, and a good friend of mine is a lawyer. I know we’re a small town, but you’d be surprised by what we can do. And to be frank, Nieema is the one who runs Indigo Plains.”
“What do you mean?“
“She owns Ravensguard.”
Jasper’s jaw touched the floor. “Are you saying she’s—“
“Yeah, she’s more than just my queen. But she’s queen of Ravensguard and the vampire species.”
Buck let his pride talk for him, and Jasper gobbled it up. She showed teeth and fangs again, a smile returning. He liked this look better. It complemented her angular features and plush, blood red lips.
“I knew she was royalty.”
“How so?”
“Because my Dad is a Duke. We are close with the King of Undervell, which is split into five sects. Our king owns two. He wants everything. War and politics bore me.”
Buck nodded, trapped in her smoldering gaze. She was warm-blooded and beautiful. He wanted to reassure her with affection and gifts.
With a kiss.
And Jasper was well aware. The pretty girl pulled away and went for her satchel.
“What about my house?”
“Oh, we’re not gonna stop living because of this pig. But, you ain’t going no where by yourself. We don’t know who done saw you in town. Anybody coulda run back and told him.”
“True. I just…I thought demon hunting was against the law.”
Buck nodded, opening the door for Jasper.
“Alotta thangs are against the law. Humans don’t give a damn about them. They never have. Most fae don’t, either. A law don’t mean nothing to somebody who got greenbacks to buy what they want. Like a free pass and silence to do dirt. But, this ain’t necessarily a true democracy. And I bet, Nieema will have something to say about all this and some. The governor of Misthill is gonna need a lawyer at some point.”
Buck would let Nieema handle the political end while he, introduced himself to the Voaremont Boys.

A Nibble from Chapter 16

Here’s an excerpt from chapter 16. Enjoy!

Jasper reared back with her chin high and silver brow arched. The jewels at her neck and ears winked under the blue hue. “Are you going to talk the whole time or take what you need?”
Nieema cupped her nape and kneaded her plump, dimpled hip.
“Needy, impatient, and overcome with desire. You are wearing my favorite perfume.” She yanked Jasper forward and stopped centimeters from her parted lips. Nieema growled, a whisper of contact was enough to make her ache and swell, yearn for Jasper’s supple flesh. “Be of care, sweet flame. Wish not for what you do not understand.”
Her resistance was futile and in vain. Jasper jumped the line and kissed Nieema first, fighting for the dominance Succubi love so god damn much. Their fervent, hit headed nature and mounting desire was a call to action. An intense pressure coiled in Nieema’s belly and settled between soaked walls. Dark fragrant woods, blood orange, and cocoa provoked her thirst.

Checking In: Just A Few Things

Hi y’all! Hope your week is flowing and stress-free! Mine is boring, per usual, but at least the words are coming along right? With Patches, I wanted to give y’all a heads up. The coming dialogue might be darker. This is not a dark story and I want to keep it light and fluffy, but The antagonist is a motherfucker. He’s nothing nice.
I won’t give too many graphic details on page, but if you read chapter ten, you can kind of guess what we were up against. Jasper is on the run, and you’ll find out why.
Chapter Eleven will tackle deeper issues.

Content warnings are as follows:
Recalling past domestic violence
Moderate self-deprecation and shame
Attempted murder off-page

Yes, this is some heavy shit, no doubt, but it is a pivotal moment for Buck and Jasper. Not only are we digging deeper into her life, but we are getting to know Buck better as well. And, we’ll find out what makes Nieema so special. Stay tuned y’all, there’s much more to come.

Chapter 10: Cursed and Crumbling

Jasper

Jasper tried not to laugh and flirt, putting forth her best efforts. Some habits were hard to break, however. As a succubus, it was in her nature to pluck at rough petals unique to the masculine flower. A calling, a purpose. Instinctual. Biological. Their magnetism was a product of her inner workings, nothing more.
Fallacious.
She was enthralled by Buck’s intensity; locked into his magic. A shadow man who reminded her of tasty treats and cozy, crackling fire nights.
“—Every time I see it,” Buck said.
Jasper nodded but didn’t hear a word. “I’m sorry?”
He gestured to the cruddy house and ruined her moment of lapsed judgment. She’d been staring at his profile yet again. While signing papers, she had trouble concentrating on the task and misspelled her own name.
Jasper grunted and opened the car door. She needed fresh, summer air and not the circulating blend of Buck’s natural Midnight Mist musk.
“You might have a point,” Jasper said, mounting the sidewalk. She studied the old, dilapidated Victorian and almost wept. Masonry was spotty with bricks missing, the porch sagged, and there was only a handful of roof tiles left.
An eyesore. With its dead yard and barren trees, her house was a blight on Yewing Avenue. Classic homes, much like hers, dotted the four-block stretch. Though theirs had been upgraded and repainted. They maintained lawns and tended healthy gardens. Jasper was embarrassed and discouraged until a green giant barreled out of her crumbling shack.
He lumbered down the steps, skipping three. “Hiya Bucko!”
“Is that an orc?” Jasper asked, completely impressed by the sheer size of his double-barrel chest.
“Yup.”
“Oh…”
Tusks, flannel, and cherry-red hair. He was a rugged fantasy made real. Jasper knew they existed, but most never ventured this far from Brasshorne territory. Orcs were a rarity, and she hated that. An orc lover was on her bucket list… but she was celibate. Jasper deflated as the towering man greeted Buck.
“Good thing you showed, I was fixin’ to leave. Annie’s special for tonight is meatloaf. You know how I am about her meatloaf.”
“We didn’t mean to keep ya waiting. Those papers kicked my tail this time. They changed some stuff, and I had to at least skim. Oh, uh, Jasper, this here is Zach, the carpenter. He’s gon’ let us know what can be done with the floor and such.”
“Nice to meet ya, Ma’am.”
Zach was as friendly as everyone else in Indigo Plains. His hands were calloused and big, however. The texture would feel exquisite on the more sensitive areas.
Jasper batted lashes, and the Orc grinned.
“Oohhhkay,” Zach brandished his clipboard and said. “Boy, do I got some news for you, Buck. I’ve seen hill faerie homes in better condition. No offense, Ma’am.”
“None taken, it’s a piece of shit.”
Zach grimaced and scratched his head. “Not much to be done with the herringbone on the first floor.”
Buck hissed and said, “Come on now, we gotta save something.”
“No can do, the wood is rotted straight through. The basement is filled with water and the spider you gutted yesterday. You should move that damn thing, Bucko. It’s gonna smell up the place real bad. Like Freddy after a swamp swim.”
The men laughed, and Jasper joined, if only to humor Zach. He was a mountain of evergreen skin and muscle she’d climb for ten minutes flat. His essence probably smelled like spring rain or some shit.
Jasper winked at Zach, and the orc winced. “Ma’am, I’m flattered. But I’m gay.”
Jasper squinted, swallowed her tongue, and wanted to vomit. “Ohhhh, my god. I—you know what? I am so sorry.”
Zach snorted and said, “It’s fine. I get it all the time. So, are we ready for the walkthrough?“
“Hi! Yooohooo!” A dark-haired fellow wearing a tunic waved as he jogged from across the street. “Oh my goddess, leg day kicked my ass. Helloooo. You, must be Jasper.”
She nodded and shook yet another hand.
“I’m Leo, I live right over there. In the gorgeous cerulean lady. I painted her myself ten years ago. We all go for something bright and colorful. It is such a pleasure. I see you’re still moving in. How is it going?”
“It’s…stalled.” Jasper glanced at her moving pod, still packed with furniture.
“I can imagine. Is everything okay? I heard quite a commotion last night.”
“A Wicker spider living under the house.”
Leo gasped, removed his sunglasses, and cupped his mouth. At that second, Jasper tasted deceit. Masculine energies, specific to the human male variety, were no secret. She saw through their words and read their expressions thoroughly. Jasper inhaled intentions and lust as if it were a fine fragrance.
His concern was fabricated.
“That’s terrible.” Leo placed shades on his head and squinted at the house. “I never would have thought those beasties might invade our homes. Did you find a nest? Because we can’t have them breeding on our street. I don’t care for creepy-crawling things. Creatures of darkness and all that.”
“Creatures of what, now?” Buck asked, canting his head.
Jasper heard the derision in Leo’s voice as well and wasn’t fond of his tone.
“I should go,” her neighbor said. “I have smoothies to make, meal prep, you know. Got a pilates class at seven am sharp.” Leo laughed while their lips twitched. “Good luck with the renovations, but let’s not work after six. It’s inconsiderate. Some of us do have to work. You understand, babes?”
Leo started for his house but doubled back. He snapped his fingers and said, “Oh, and b-t-dubs, Sissy wants her dish back, asap. She can get annoying as effff if you don’t return it. Kay byeeee!”
“I don’t got no problem with humans,” Buck rasped. “But I do not like that one.”
“They’re so hostile,” Zach said.
“I’ll be keeping my distance.”
“Good idea, Jasper.”
“Alright.” Buck clapped once and headed for her house. “Where y’all wanna start?”
Leaks in the attic, structural issues, and mold within the walls. Sloping archways and termites. Jasper listened to complaints and concerns with a happy heart. She didn’t have to worry about paying for any of it, but there were a shit ton of problems. Zach found what she couldn’t even see.
“A massive chunk of the second floor is gonna go,” Zach said. “Jasper, if you’d like, we can set you up with our interior designer. She’s top notch, our lead consultant. Went to school for it and everything.”
She nodded, but her head was about to explode with an abundance of useless information. “Sure. Will this be the person who helps me pick the paint and stu—“
“Nah,” Buck interrupted. “We’ll be doing that. Becca is the person you can talk to about what you want this place to look like. Where you want lighting, if you want shutters, or brass knobs. She then teams up with Zach here and they go over cupboards, doors, shit like that. We’ll be doing the installing, though. You, me, and my vampire.”
His smile broke Jasper down for three whole seconds. She giggled and whirled around. It’d be a cold day in Undervell before he’d see her blush.
Instead of lingering near her current annoyance, Jasper took to exploring her house. Being gifted with an interior decorator put some fire in her step. She retrieved her phone and started in the living room. After two hundred years of drab, Undervell living, Jasper was into color. She never wore black or shades that clashed with her carmine complexion.
When buying new clothes, she erred on the side of caution, but her home was fair game. With quick thumbs, she took notes. Blues in the parlor, honey-yellow and apricot in the kitchen. Sage, jade, and moss would be her craft room. Neons in her computer room and ivory in the master.
There was the attic, she wasn’t sure what that’d be yet. Jasper ticked off ideas for each guest suite save for Kit’s. He’d claim the second largest room with a fireplace.
Breathing through her mouth did nothing to stymy the miasma. Musty air tickled her toes and brushed her nose.
“Uck.” Jasper stepped lightly and entered the half bath on the second floor. She spun, tripped on broken tile, and gripped the towel rack. It snapped right off. Chunks of ceramic went with it.
Tucked into the gaping holes were tittering creatures. Tiny, gray people. Jasper tossed the bar and stared at the winged cuties.
“Are you fairies?” she asked, frightening the group.
They flinched and scrambled as the biggest one stood, facing her.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The mini fairy flapped its papery wings and hovered in her line of sight. The strangling was quite unseemly up close. Scar tissue riddled its face and emaciated body. Thorns, spikes, or barbs lined their long limbs.
“Hello there.“
It screeched and struck her cheek. Jasper gasped and dabbed at the spot it nicked. Blood coated her fingertips.
“You little shit!”
It cut her again, this time on her chin. They were swift and too small to track. As the others crawled from their home in the wall, Jasper side-stepped.
The horde overflowed from each wound. She bolted down the hall as the fairies poked her calves and sliced into her arms.
“Buuuuuuck! Get back!“ Jasper flailed and batted at the gray clump of fairies blocking her path. “You fuckers.”
The frenetic horde swarmed as she pushed through the gray curtain. Jasper fought back the only way she knew how, with her fists. She’d been trained like everyone else in her father’s house, but never put those skills to use.
She wasn’t even sure they’d help her now, but it was worth trying. She grabbed fairies by the handful and crushed them. Their thorns pierced her palms, and dust slipped through her fingers.
“Jasper? Hoooly! God damn creatons!” A strong hand captured her wrist. “Close your mouth! And whatever you do, don’t let ‘em get in your eyes!”
“My ey—“
“Close your mouth!”
She sealed her lips shut as Buck dragged her. They ran downstairs while Ivy scaled the walls and gathered behind them. The creeping vines created a lattice work, and it was quite beautiful.
“It ain’t gonna hold, they can chew through cement!”
He was right; the second they burst through the front door, an undulating mass of fairies emerged. They darted for the front door and stopped. The loud static hum of their wings would give Jasper nightmares for at least a week.
“Why aren’t they moving?”
The door slammed shut, followed by the telling clack of a dead bolt.
“They fuckin’ locked the door. Jasper, your house is cursed,” Buck said.
“So it’s haunted?” Zach asked, shaking as if he’d been trapped in the Arctic for the last five minutes.
“Nah, cursed,” Buck amended. “I didn’t wanna believe it, but I felt it the moment one of them Creak Fairy’s cut me. I can taste it. This ain’t a matter of ghosts, but people. Somebody done put a hex on this house. One intent on taking Jasper out.”
“Take me out?! Like how? You mean as in kill me?”
“That’s what I’m thinking. The Wicker Spider wanted you bad, and Creak’s don’t touch meat. They eat dirt and minerals, they ain’t usually that aggressive neither, not really. But sure as the moon shines, they woulda ended you.”
“Death by a thousand cuts,” Zach muttered. “Nasty way to go.”
Jasper huffed as her fury rose and blood boiled to the surface. She was so sick of this shit. How was it that someone wanted her dead already? She’d just moved to this fucking town two days ago! She’d met a handful of people and only remembered three names. Crossing her arms, an emotional tidal wave made the pyre in her belly percolate.
With nothing left to do, she screamed, releasing a short blast of fire through her nose. She stomped in the dead grass, snatched weeds, and punched a column. The old, brittle wood fractured under her strength. The roof leaned eerily to one side and collapsed to the left. Teracotta slid to the ground and shattered.
That was it, Jasper broke. Molten tears sprang from their wells as her shoulders shook. Head in her hands, she sobbed.
“Not agaaaain! Why does everyone wanna kill me? I can’t—whyyy?! Why me?! What did I dooo?”
“Jasper,” Bucks husky timbre pierced her pathetic blithering, quieting her in an instant. “May I touch you? Not in no weird way, I just feel like you need a hug, and I hate seeing folks cry. It chokes me up.”
She whirled and tackled the man. Acquaintances they may be, but Jasper needed an anchor. And she chose Buck. He enveloped her in a snug embrace and patted her back.
It was nice.
Jasper sniffled and came down from a blue-hued high. Crying was cathartic, not a weakness like Carriont had led them to believe. Expressing oneself through draining bodily fluids had helped Jasper in desperate times.
Within two minutes, she went from standing to sitting in Buck’s car. He handed her a small pack of tissues she put to quick use. She sullied half of them and gathered a long, shuddering breath.
“I’m sorry for all that.“
“Don’t go apologizing for feeling things.”
“I fell apart.”
“As most do when under massive amounts of stress.”
“I’m fine, though. Really.“
“Not even close. I can see the strain in your smile and in the way you fidget.”
Jasper frowned, adjusting her necklaces. She didn’t fidget. Rubbing the gold unicorn pendant, she huffed and dropped her hand, choosing to wring the tissue. Jasper stared at her hands instead of Buck’s scrutiny. She didn’t need another man judging her for an unexpected flush of tears.
“I know what’ll cheer you right on up.”
“I’m okay, Buck, but thank you.”
“See, ‘bout that, I ain’t ask you nothin’. Sit tight and relax, I gotchya.”
Now, she fixed her gaze upon him. Jasper was baffled by his set of balls. Sure, he wasn’t the first assertive man she’d met, but he was the first of his kind to hug her without expectation. He’d given her time to process and didn’t say shit.
Hand on the wheel and eyes on the road, Buck was unbothered and handsome. The sunlight hit his five o’clock shadow and the brim of his hat just right. Buck’s overt beauty was painful to behold, but she’d be damned to look away.