Jasper

Jasper snickered as her brother glared at the plumber’s feet. He wasn’t used to being dismissed, much less by a stranger. Kit fooled many with his fresh face and unrealistic phobias. But demons knew better and feared him, as they rightly should.
She looked on while petting a unique blend of threads. It was softer than anything she’d ever used.
“Kit,” Jasper warned.
“I was merely trying to help, sir. There is zero cause for your attitude or rude introduction.”
“That wasn’t no introduction,” Hank muttered from below. “I don’t know you and I don’t wanna know you.”
“Damn, man.” Jasper high-whistled, draped the folded quilt over the armrest with care, and jacked to her full height.
“I have never been so disrespected. You are an asshole and lack manners. You, sir, would fit well on my favorite pike!”
“’Scuse me?!” Hank scrambled from under the sink and rose from his ass like any gravity-defying vampire. “What the hell you say to me, boy?”
“Boy?!” Kit seethed.
“Alright, alright.” Jasper wedged herself between the men and tried for de-escalation. “Kit, you can’t piss people off then threaten to kill them, its uncouth. But Hank, it’s kinda rude calling a grown man a boy. He’s three hundred years old. You can’t say things like that. My brother, here, isn’t known for his patience.”
“Neither am I.”
“Hm.” Kit sneered and Hank was no better.
“Dearest brother, I have some important stuff to teach you about this world. Come. Let’s leave Hank to his business.
“I need supper before I actually murder someone.”
Jasper stifled a giggle and a hangry joke. It was funny because he was serious.
“There ain’t nothing in that ice box. You’ll have to wait for groceries. Nieema just left.”
Sooty puffs of smoke escaped from Kit’s nose as he huffed.
“If you that doggone hungry then go on up to the main house. I’ll tell them you coming.”
Jasper wagged praying hands and bowed as Kit stomped for the door. He exited with vile words while Hank’s jaw ticked.
“Sorry about him,” Jasper said. “He’s not used to fae or land. He’s read a lot about this place but never visited.”
“I reckon he’s a spoiled prick who ain’t worked a day in his life.”
Jasper grunted and smirked. “Now there, is where you’d be wrong.”
“Sure.”
Hank let the convo rest there and returned to tightening bolts or whatever. Jasper took his silence as a period and joined Kit on the porch.
A vicious wet heat clung to her skin and soaked Indigo Plains. Humidity touched every blade of grass and leaf. She’d moved here for solitude and the promise of peace. The weather was a delightful bonus she much appreciated.
“If someone doesn’t ask for help, you leave them alone,” Jasper pronounced, admiring the majestic vista.
“It is an honor to meet me, Hank should have been-“
“Up here, you’re a nobody.”
Jasper shrugged and cleared the steps in a single bound.
“What do you mean? Please explain.“
“Nobody, no one, not a soul gives a damn about you, Kit.”
“I don’t know how I feel about this revelation.” Kit matched her stride by power walking and looked as if she’d shattered his heart. “Fowler says land dwellers love demons. These people worship us and beg at our feet.”
Jasper laughed and sought a star-speckled sky.
“Ohhh, they do love us. He was right. They show up and show out. For those with succubi blood, they’ll do just about anything.”
“I’m only half incubus.“
“Don’t matter.”
“I say, your vernacular is atrocious.”
“You can be two-thirds or fourths, whatever, no one cares. They’ll kill for you, Kit. Some would clip their own vein and pluck every hair from their pretty little head for you.”
“That sounds more like it!“
“They want your body, brother.” Jasper skipped ahead and spun, facing Kit. She remained on the path and smiled at his obvious terror. “They care not for your status or the reward of being your bonded.” She stopped dead and clutched his suspenders. “No, no! What they want, brother mine, is your mind, your dreams, and strapping form sheltering theirs and—“
“Enough!”
Kit smacked her hands away and blushed. His gray cheeks purpled with embarrassment. He was a prude and no fun at all. Grinning at the man, she flicked a bejeweled loc over his shoulder.
“I’m gonna set your ass up with somebody,” Jasper vowed.
“What?Wait—no.”
She sighed and continued on their journey. Approaching the big ranch house she cackled as Kit stuttered and stumbled. Words never caught purchase on his tongue.
“I don’t wanna hear your excuses, bruh. Listen, you need to get bent then bent over.”
“I am not discussing this with you! My intimate affairs are none of your concern.”
“What intimacy?”
“Don’t be crass, Jasper.”
She took the steps in twos and side-eyed her eldest sibling. His head and spirit dragged across the covered porch.
“I’m sorry, Kit.” Jasper locked an arm around him and squeezed. She wasn’t the biggest hugger, but exceptions must be made. “I know you have fears and… worries. As with most things. I won’t push, but I might make suggestions.”
“You always do.”
She smiled, kissed his sad, shaved horn then stabbed the doorbell.
“Off with you,” Kit snapped.
Jasper released him and shoved the fucker. He stammered and cussed.
“Who the fuuuck are you?”
Jasper pivoted and Kit yelped at the sound of a grating, warped voice. She didn’t know what the hell to make of this perched creature. Ugly as shit and odious, saliva dangled from its crusty beak.
“What in the name of death gods is it?” Kit asked, gripping her bicep.
“I have no clue.”
“Ah!” Buck charged at the unnatural, winged cryptid, wielding a dangerous broom. “You old buzzard! Getchya ass—ah!”
“I came to welcome you new guesssts.”
The thing squawked and took flight, losing feathers on their ascent. They clawed at bristles and laughed. The hysterical howl was horrifying. Jasper almost smiled as Buck and the spawn of something beyond the depths of hell dueled.
Buck held good form with a thick forest green braid whipping about. She often paid attention to details; the makings of a person. Tensing thigh muscles, a calloused iron grip, and the curve of his hips.
This was bad business but they offered to help.
“Damn scavenger.” Buck stomped, swore, and cracked his gum. “Sorry ’bout that. Dust Peckers are damn hard to shake. I’d rather termites. Come on in, Hank said y’all need a meal.”
With Buck missing the hat, Jasper got a better look at his eyes. She nodded in passing and clocked the grin. He wasn’t cute smelling like an unknown sweet wood and cinnamon bark.
Their inviting home immediately claimed her attention. The main house was an architectural feat and Jasper didn’t know shit about building things but it was wondrous.
Spacious, massive even, and immaculate. She stopped by the stairs and counted three stories. Coated in white and love. The Sunsides residence was nothing like her rotting Victorian.
“What a serene environment.”
Jasper high whistled and followed Buck through a hallway lined with more odd artwork. She was taken aback by framed embroidery. Various sizes and shapes, the pieces hung from every wall. After a decent stroll, they entered the great room and veered right, into the kitchen.
“This is living!” Kit shouted. “You have done well for yourself, Mr. Sunside.”
“Buck.”
“Buck. What is it you do, exactly?”
“They own a construction business.”
Kit hummed and meandered. Jasper kept a close eye on the demon. He was prone to touch, handle, and fumble. One might never guess he was a natural-born killer with a specific skill set.
Sitting at a table tucked into a cove of windows, she watched Buck rummage. The kitchen with its long counters and shiny appliances filled Jasper with envy. She’d grown up around the same luxuries but had never owned anything until now.
It wasn’t the high-end refrigerator or the weird coffee contraption that made her slouch, no. It was the fact that all of this was theirs. No one bought or filched it from a human with recurring debt.
This was why Jasper had left the nest. She wanted to make her own way, be her own person, and live by her own rules. Duty, obligation, fear, and corruption brought her here.
The freedom this world offered was unmatched.
“So,” Buck started. “I got leftover lasagna, roast beef for dips, subs, or ten-layer bean casserole. Don’t ask me what’s in it. I don’t know, my grandson Mace inhales anything with beans.”
Kit slid into the booth and pulled a small pad from his pocket. “What is a bean casserole?”
“Layers of mashed beans, cheese, meat, and sour cream I think. You wanna eat it cold.”
She was curious about Kit’s notes and what he jotted down. He had a love of food that surpassed eating it but she never saw the appeal of preparing a meal. Jasper couldn’t cook for shit. She was told by an ex that a starved stray dog wouldn’t touch her food. She tested the theory of course, and it was true. The mutt gruffed and pawed at the bowl, flipping it over completely.
“I will have that,” Kit said. “Would you happen to have hot sauce?”
Buck laughed, his husky amusement supplied her with far too much delight. “Do a pig shit?”
“What—yes, they do. I think. I’ve never seen a pig in person.”
“You’re funny, Kit.” Buck presented her brother with a large bowl of bean muck, chips, and a tub of Reaper Water hot sauce. “I like you.”
The gorgeous, dense souled man popped gum and rested his big boot on the bench seat. It was a decent pose, one she often used when trying to court easy prey. His stance and stare would’ve made a daintier person blush.
“And what about you, darlin’? What can I get ya?”
They’d met hours ago and he went straight for a pet name. Jasper wasn’t a petite damsel, but god damn it, some words turned her into a doe-eyed flower.
Some shit wilted her petals and ‘darlin’ was a winner. Not even twenty-four hours since they had exchanged names and she was ready to swoon. Time had never stopped her in the past, but things had changed. A while ago, Jasper ignored her instincts and rode the wave of passion. She lost herself. Twelve months of hard lessons made her hop states, buy a house in a rural town with a population of five thousand, and delete all socials.
“Lasagna,” Jasper said, digging into his shadow-laced gaze “And make it two servings if you can. I like to eat.”
“We got that in common.” Buck dropped his foot and backpedaled into the kitchen. “And I don’t leave no crumbs behind either.”
She wouldn’t bow to this man or fold for him. Not now. Not ever.
“This is incredible!” Kit announced. He drizzled more sauce on the goop and scooped. “I can’t name most of the spices but I will research this recipe at a later date. I know a few off the top of my head. Pepper, garlic, sweet chilies, and onion.” Kit paused for a tick then carried on. “Believe it or not, Buck, demons have taken to some of your culinary customs. We adore onion and garlic quite a bit. Though, you are mighty liberal with it. Do you really use them in every dish?”
“If my wife can help it.”
“I assumed the vampyree were allergic to garlic.”
Buck chuckled again, the harmony snaked around her spine and tightened.
“It has to be unprocessed. Whole cloves, wild, and grown in cursed soil.”
“Ahhhhh.” Kit mumbled and waved his spoon. “I see, yes. Another piece of knowledge fractured by the hands of time and small human minds. I understand. Most think us spirits attached to religious institutions. I’ve never understood the connection. They’re fables.”
The moment Buck gifted Jasper with food she let Kit talk the man’s ear numb and dove into the cheesy, meaty goodness. The piping hot tomato sauce was well seasoned and thick. She drifted in and out of the conversation, stuffing her face. Jasper didn’t care how rude it was or how she looked. After such an exciting night, she was starved. Two slices of butter-topped sourdough hit the spot and sopped up leavings like a sponge.
“Glad to see somebody likes my lasagna.”
A cup of iced tea appeared as Jasper sucked sauce from her fingertips. Now, she blushed… a little.
Lifting eyes to Nieema, Jasper nodded. “I love it actually. It’s been years since I had a real home-cooked meal.”
The woman scoffed in surprise. “Let me guess you, don’t know how to cook?”
“I can bake a mean pop tart and throw together the best cocktails you’ll ever have.”
“Now there,” Buck interrupted. “Is something I need in my life. A cold mixer? I can’t get enough of goblin glitter.”
Jasper laughed and sipped a chilled sweet tea, heavy on the lemon. She relished it. “Gooood choice. Extra sugar cane, cranberry bitters, and maraschino cherries. I’d never peg you for a glitter guy, Buck.”
“Well, see. That’s cause you don’t know me. I welcome a good peg—“
“Get the hell—“
“I’m only playing, woman.”
Buck snatched his wife into a crushing embrace and captured her lips. He devoured her on the spot and Jasper gawked. She didn’t mean to but had no choice in the matter and Buck’s cutting eyes caught her dead.
Prying his wife off, he cackled. “Don’t you go teasing me now, I gotta go.”
“You can stay.”
“I most certainly can not. These bills ain’t gon’ pay themselves.”
Nieema wrapped his long braid around her fist and yanked. Jasper flinched at the power move. Their foreplay and flirtatious energy clogged the air. As a veteran succubus, she involuntarily fed on lust and carnal desires. Jasper nursed their shared intimacy and nibbled on it. Scents and energies fused, causing her stomach to drop. An unfamiliar brand of desire pooled deep in her belly and settled between clenched thighs.
This was about her biology and make. Nothing more. Her demonic soul thrived in this environment. Fighting such urges was futile as they were a testament to her maturity.
Nieema shoved Buck and returned. Nieema’s intense, scarlet consideration was worse than her husband’s undivided attention.
“Who here wants a tour of our ranch?”
Against better judgment, Jasper raised her glass. “I’m for it. What say you, Kit?”
The demon shrugged, unsure. “As long as we stay out of the woods.”
Nieema bit into a ripe, kingsbury peach and said, “I ain’t making no promises. Those woods hold many magical secrets”
“They can keep them,” Kit clipped.
Jasper and Nieema giggled.
More than ready, she scraped ceramic and rushed to the sink. “Alright, Nieema. Lead the way. I’m anxious to see the grounds.”
If Jasper was lucky she’d keep her eyes on the scenery and not, on Nieema’s mouth.

Nieema

Nieema spent the last hour moonlighting as a tour guide. Even for her —somebody who’d lived on this land their entire life— she found the setting sublime. Acres worth of flatland, three lakes, snaking rivers, and a picturesque mountain view left her ass speechless many uh nights. She loved Indigo Plains with its harsh winters and humid summers. Living amongst the stars and the trees was nice. She preferred sketchy woods over echoing catacombs.
“I thought most ranch dwellings raised cattle,” Kit said. He gestured to a pasture with grazing sheep and goats. “Where are the bovine and bulls?”
Nieema launched an old tennis ball through the air and watched Ringer, one of three, Collies sprint after it. He barked and jumped for it.
“Cattle ain’t our brand. Never was. The Haggers across the road keep cows and bison. Goood job, boy!” Nieema crouched and scrubbed Ringer between the ears. “Cows and such don’t take to vampires well. Sheep and goats? We’re best of friends. Ain’t that right, baby?” She snatched the fuzzy, old ball from the pooch and tossed it again.
“It’s beautiful out here,” Jasper rasped. “Fresh air and impressive views. I can only imagine what Christmas is like around here. Especially the mountains.”
Jasper was a masterpiece if Nieema had ever seen one. She was rough and tumble, but not coarse. Her silver hair short and newly chopped with spoke of rebellion. Nieema knew countless succubi. They never cut their intrinsic cornrows and braids. It was so unlike her people and abnormal, but fitting in Jasper’s case.
Restarting their walk, Nieema chucked the ball and checked the time. “Say, how would y’all like to make some deliveries with me?”
“Deliveries? What do you make? What is it you do?” Kit was a nosy man with strong opinions and a blunt tongue, she liked him. “Jasper said you own a construction business.”
“Yeah, we do. But, we got more bills than you know and as an immortal, hobbies are a must. In my downtime, I make candles and quilts.”
“Wait, you’re the one who made the quilts and art, huh?” Jasper smiled, no doubt perceiving Nieema.
“I did, and what of it? I’m an old broad who knits and makes sweet-smelling candles. You gonna make a joke? My whole family does.”
“What? No, no. I was uh, well…” Jasper peered at the horizon and ruffled her hair. “I cross stitch. I’m great with a needle and thread. Good with my hands. Thought about making blankets and such, but I can’t afford a sewing machine right now.”
“Get outta town!” Nieema gasped as they approached her pick-up truck. “Now, why ain’t you just say so? Do you take commissions? You got a portfolio or a website or something?”
“I do.”
Nieema wagged a finger and plucked keys from her skirt pocket. “This is great! I need some new patches, too.”
“Is this how you make money, Jasper?” Kit asked, with more oomf than necessary.
He dispatched judgment and Nieema thought it rude.
“What you tryin’ to say, sir? Because my little sewing job brings in six figures a month.”
Kit tapped his lip with a sharp talon and mulled on it.
“Exactly,” Jasper said. “I sell feet content too.”
“Feet? What would anyone want with photos of hooves?”
“Not all of us have hooves, Kit.”
“Well, yes, I forgot you have five strange digits. I suppose your matriarch is to blame for such an unsightly mutation.”
Jasper sniffed and frowned at her kin. “They pay out the ass to see my feet, okay. You wouldn’t understand.”
Nieema stabbed the fob and started the truck as she worked to steady her heart. Pretty feet made her crawl and kneel. Knowing this here demon had a booming foot business quickened an ancient vampire’s slow beating pulse.
Gathering herself, Nieema hummed and opened the passenger door. “After you.”
Jasper sighed and shook her head but hopped into the front seat. Kit’s eyes flitted about the cab before hopping inside.
“This is exciting. We have a train system and carriages in Undervell.”
“Under what?” Nieema asked, putting the truck in drive. “What’s—“
“Hell,” Jasper supplied.
“Right, right. I be forgetting hell ain’t the real name for it.”
“Hell is better. I like it. Sounds foreboding and dark.”
“Everything Undervell is not,” Kit supplied.
Jasper laughed, looking back at the demon. “I wouldn’t go that far. We have blackout seasons and nights where it rains acid and molten metals.”
Kit drooped and sighed. “Don’t remind me. I love our down season, it’s when we break out the skulls, candles, and give hatchlings treats.”
Nieema kept eyes on the two-lane highway and listened as the siblings reminisced about a holiday similar to Halloween. Except Undervell folk had a ball and dined on fine foods for an entire cycle, whatever that meant.
With their land skirting the edge of Indigo Plains, the trip into town lasted longer than it should have. Twenty minutes and some change later, Nieema parked in front of Landon’s Home Goods.
“I’m still not used to this,” Jasper said, staring at the pink and purple facade. “There’s no skyscrapers, high rises, subway systems, or factories.”
“That ain’t true, we have four factories.” Nieema popped the trunk and slipped out. Jasper and Kit followed. She rounded to the backside of her truck and retrieved boxes. “The Petersons own a mill and the largest wheat crop in town. Hell, Maybell’s milking Farm has the biggest factory around and then there’s Jed’s water purification, lab, factory, center place.”
Jasper lifted the boxes Nieema tapped and Kit slammed the hatch.
“Thank you kindly. And last but not least, you got the blood distribution bank down on Heartlocke Circle, right next to Mace’s barbershop. My grandson owns that spot.”
As they started for the store, Nieema smiled at Bonny Kinsington. “How’s the kids, Bonny?”
“Great, Miss. Here, let me.“ Bonny yanked open the door and bowed her head. “They’re good. I’m throwing a party for Nathan, I’d love it if y’all could swing on by.”
“I sure will. I know Jo will be happy to see Maryanne.”
“She’s married now, Miss.”
“Oh, well, they’re still friends.”
“True.” Bonny grinned, her cheeks strawberry red. “I must be going, gotta put the roast on.”
“You go on, honey. Don’t let me hold ya.”
Bonny waited until they were inside Landon’s, which gave fancy department stores a run for their money. Indigo Plains kept to their own brands and local shops, they didn’t need no outsider business.
One mall was enough.
“I bought a few cups from here yesterday,” Jasper said. “The deals are fantastic. It’s not often you can find quality for under five bucks. I was shocked.”
“Landon barters with the fairies for his stuff. And, you know, folks bring things in. Like me, I give him these candles free of charge.”
“For free?!” Kit shouted, wrestling with a buggy. He rattled the cart loose and beamed. “Oh! How marvelous. I have always wanted to use one of these. I’ve never shopped on my own before.”
Nieema sashayed on through the busy store and glanced at Jasper. Her kin seemed spoiled, sheltered, and pampered. She, however, did not. It was interesting.
“Do you have those uhm, cards or the paper sort of currency?”
Jasper laughed, the harmony pleasant and welcome.
“Debit? Yeah. Cash? No. But— wait, what are you trying to ge— Kit, wait, bruh. What—“
“You go ahead, I’m gon’ hand these over to the stock team. And talk with the manager.”
“Alright. We’ll be quick.”
Jasper bounded after an excited Kit, leaving Nieema to process. Wondering where the woman’s tail was, she went about her business and decided to make this snappy. They had six deliveries to make before closing time.