Tag: fantasy romance

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 9: Fairy Friends

Kit

“A quart of beef stock? What in the Undervell is that?” Kit read the recipe for a common stew and was confounded by three ingredients. “Stock, corn starch, and russet potatoes…Perhaps I can research each ingri—“
“Or,” Julep shouted from his post on the windowsill. “Forgive me because this is a crazy idea, but how about you ask someone!? Maybe Nieema. I like her. She’s vampyre and quite sensual. If I weren’t cursed to hold this feline form I’d make her mine.”
“She is betrothed you whore.”
“Semantics.” Julep’s tail flicked and rolled as he watched chickens peck the soil searching for grubs. He was intent on killing them for how they’d treated Kit earlier. “My suggestion stands. Ask her. Land dwellers seem amiable and dare I say, kind. Encouraging even. I hate them.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Kit removed his apron, hung it on a hook shaped like a kind of nut, and grabbed his journal. He stopped to boop Julep’s nose. The testy cat hissed and tried to fight him off.
“I hope to have lunch, supper, what have you, at least started before we leave. I’m rather excited about this demolition business.”
“Yes, you ache for violence.” Julep lapped at a paw and brushed it over his ear. “You and I are such alike it scares me at times. Say, on your return would it be alright if I took a walk?”
“Why?”
“I’m bored.”
Kit blinked at his friend, who stared with indifference.
“Julep, you are a liar. You bring me rodents when I’ve expressed how foul they are. You tell me they attack you. Lie. You leave refuse in my bed and say you were ‘sleep shitting’. Lie. Youuu, want at the chickens.”
“I do not!”
“I counted fifteen hens. And I will come back to the same amount or I’ll give you a bath then fit you with a leash!”
Julep hissed once more and lunged at Kit. The bastard took chase and clawed at his ankles.
“You’ll bleed, demon! If you even dare, I’ll fill your shoes with mice!”
Kit yanked open the front door, and Julep escaped in skittish, feline fashion. “You had better run, petulant beast!”
The sun shone in a clear blue sky and mammals bleated. One could say it was a lovely day if not for a seething gentleman blocking the exit.
“Ah, you,” Kit intoned.
“Yeah. Me. I know you touched my eggs.”
“Were those your eggs?” Steeling his spine, Kit sneered. “I didn’t know. I was sure they belonged to the chickens that laid them.”
“Don’t get smart with me, jack!”
“My name isn’t Jack, it’s Kit.”
“Don’t you ever go digging for my eggs.”
Kit growled as Hank’s red eyes sparked. He was within range to catch his death. Clove and bergamot swirled about. The scent was oddly comforting and contradictory of his boorish behavior.
“They are everywhere!” Kit pronounced, holding his ground.
“I don’t give a shit, they’re mine.”
“Surely you’re not using all of them.”
“I am.”
“Liar!”
Hank hissed like the uncouth cave dweller he was and begged for a fight. Kit was born for battle, molded by it. He’d won many wars and made a name for himself. In Undervell, he’d have ripped Hank’s tongue out, pureed it, then spoon-fed him the mush with glee. But this was Indigo Plains, Ravensguard territory.
He did not need to kill this man.
Done with the whole conversation and Hank’s dewy complexion Kit stomped across the porch.
“I have nothing more to—“
“Don’t you walk away from me! I ain’t done. Don’t bother my chickens or my eggs, do you hear me?”
Hank blocked Kit’s path for the second time.
“Get out of my way or I will be forced to cause bodily harm.”
“There you go, threatenin’ me again.” Hank huffed and hiked up his trousers. “You sho’ you wanna ride this stallion, boy.”
“I’m sure Granny not gonna like you pestering her guest.”
The disembodied voice turned Kit around. There, on the overhang, sat a fellow with magenta locs and a bag of crisps. His legs dangled as he smiled and looked to the sky.
“This guest is too god damn nosy!”
“And you too grumpy,” the roof-sitter claimed.
“Indeed.”
“You hush,” Hank grumbled.
Kit pivoted and faced his nemesis. “You have no authority here. Good day.”
“You heard him, Hank. Get goin’.”
“Jo, I wann’t talking to you.”
“You know I do not give a fuck. I will tell Granny.”
Hank resigned and mumbled expletives on his trip down the stone path. With the cantankerous vampire on his way, Kit watched him go. He was a brute with the stature to match.
“Whyyyy, are you on the roof?” Kit asked.
“I was bored, didn’t have nothin’ pressing to do so I figured why not say hi.”
“Hello.”
“Where were you goin’?”
Kit shifted his gaze up and over. “To ask your grandmother a question. Nieema, right?”
“Mhm. Yeah. But she ain’t up yet. ‘Bout another two hours.”
“I’ll wait. But, again, why are you sitting on th—“
Jo laughed, swinging his legs. “’Cus it’s the best place to think. Where you do your best thinking?”
“In the bath.”
“I can see that.”
Kit yelped, clutched his journal, and slid from the landing zone. Jo had jumped from the roof and touched down with unnatural agility. He was rangy and wolfish. His smile remained, showcasing more than several fangs. Kit was unsettled by his friendliness and pointed features.
He’d never seen such a thing.
“You have quite the pair of wings,” Kit said, noticing the subtle twitch and flit. “Your grandmother is a vampire, no? As would be your mother or fat—“
Jo stuffed an orange colored crisp into his mouth and said, “We all mixed up ‘round here. My Mama wasn’t even all vampire. The only one who is, is Granny. My Mama is only half. I got fairy blood mostly. As you can tell from the lifts.”
“Lifts?”
“Another word for wings.” Jo looked to the winding walkway and laughed for whatever reason. “You wanna come with me somewhere?”
“Where?”
“To see a witch.”
“Yes!” Kit gasped. “Let me get my satchel first.”
After running inside for his bag, he filled it with his journal, a bottle of water, and two cashew butter and blackberry jam sandwiches. “I’m set.”
“Why you look like a hobbit on their first adventure?”
“A whaaat?”
“You got the sweater, purse, and hairy hooves.”
“What is a—“
Jo cackled and started their pleasant journey through the field. It was hard to believe this entire stretch of land belonged to a single family. Of course, Carriont owned a manor with thirty-five rooms, a botanical garden, and an amphitheater but to Kit, it felt more like a soggy shoe box.
“Who was the fairy?” Kit asked.
“My dad. He still in Lightbridge. The classless fuck. Got my mama pregnant and bought her a train ticket home. Fairies don’t much like melting pots if you know what I mean.”
“I do not, unfortunately.”
Jo smiled and dragged his feet, the strange coverings slapped the ground in annoying succession. They were hardly useful with the bit of plastic between his toes. Kit shuddered at the sight. Five digit freaks.
“Most folks up north in fairy land don’t mess with vampires.”
“Ahhh, I understand. In Undervell, many don’t like sleep paralysis demons. My father calls them ruffians. The general population ignores them. They’re labeled lazy trash by the media.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“I suppose, in a sense.”
Kit kept a wary eye on the woods. He’d kill a lion and make quick use of its hide. If one even dared try a surprise attack, he’d throttle them.
“Are their lions here?”
“Lions? What, like Simba?”
“Who?”
“Damn, what y’all be watching in hell?”
“Lions, you know? Big golden cats with impressive claws and—“
“Oohhhh, shit!” Jo laughed, and his wings fluttered. “Noooo, no. We don’t got them here. That’s like down south, across Pearl Gulf. Nahhh. No lions. But we do got like, Ore bears, bear shifters, Burling bears, Dust peckers, Harpies, and uhhh spiders. Them big ones.”
“I saw one.”
“Whaaaaat? And you still breathin’?”
Jo tsked and crumpled the empty crisp bag. He slipped it into the pocket of his checkered shorts and smirked. “You’re a bad, bad man, Kit.”
“I was shoved into a closet. I didn’t even get to fight.”
“Ohhh, you know what? Grandaddy said something about that.”
“I’m sure.”
If Jo never spoke, one might be frightened of the young man. He was covered in tribal ink, draped in gold jewelry, and his claws were the darkest shade of red Kit had ever seen. As if he’d dipped them in blood. The color faded at his third knuckle, where an amber, sun-drenched brown shimmered.
Faeries were hideous creatures.
“I’m quite excited to meet a witch,” Kit said.
“You ain’t never seen one?”
“No, never.”
“My grandpa was a witch. Warlock, really. It’s why I got magic in my bones.”
“Sooo, you’re the Sunsides, great grandson.”
“Mhm. Yup.”
“Where’s the rest of your family?”
“Hell if I know.” Jo shrugged and waved at the sheep. The poor devil was insane. “Not everybody set up for town living, and most don’t wanna die here.”
“What nonsense. Indigo Plains is magnificent!” Kit inhaled a deep breath, enjoying the outdoor stench. “It smells terrible, but even I see the beauty here. It’s peaceful and bright. Magical. After sunset, the moon casts an incredible light upon this land. I didn’t want to come here. I mean, I did. But not this soon, and certainly not under these circumstances.”
“What circumstances?”
Kit stopped himself from saying too much. He still had six days to get Jasper home and he was no closer than he had been hours ago.
“My sister, I came to help her with the dire living situation when we were attacked by the spider beast.”
“Riiiiight, right.”
“Young man—“
“Whoa, I’m forty-five.”
“I have trousers older than you.”
The fairy laughed again and shoved Kit’s shoulder. He stumbled into the grass and tried to hold his own chuckle, but failed. They followed the path for another thirty minutes. During such time, the loquacious Jo had stated facts and opinions. He tossed rocks, twirled sticks, and skipped along.
Every so often, Jo stopped to speak with sheep and a huge fucking blue goat with an immaculate set of horns. In that moment, Kit wished he hadn’t shaved his.
He touched the bumpy, raised edge in need of a touch-up and sighed. The Duke had said wild horns were improper for a general with status.
“Why are we going into the wood?” Kit asked, stopping in his tracks.
“This ain’t no forest. Calm down.”
“Woods.” Kit looked from the snaking road to an amused Jo. The damned stones vanished into a void.
Twisting the strap on his bag, Kit took a step back. “I can’t.”
“I told you it’s not a forest, woods, whatever.”
“Not the same thing.”
“This, is a garden.”
Kit scowled. “A garden?”
“Yeah, swear it on my Mama’s heart. Maggie keeps plants and shit like Papa Buck.”
“Wait, he has a garden?”
“Yeah. You saw it on the tour.”
“The greenhouse is his?”
Jo nodded and waved a hand. “Let’s goooo. Got things to do, geezer.”
“What’s a geezer?”
Jo giggled and extended a palm. Kit stared at it, not knowing what to do. “What would you like from me?”
“You somethin’ else, demon man.”
Kit flinched as Jo snatched his hand and gripped it with cold fingers. It’d been a while since anyone other than Jasper had touched him. Shocking and strange as it was, Kit needed the support as they inched forward.
It was fact, he’d led an entire army into battle sixty-four times and had the scars to prove it. Yes, he was known as General Raze the Great Impaler and yes, he saved all of Undervell four years ago, but by gods, the woods turned him into a hatchling. A cowering wee thing on the verge of pissing themselves.
His heart thudded. He couldn’t hear Jo’s prattle over his own chattering teeth. Towering trunks and creaking boughs. They were going to eat him alive! Swallow him whole and dine on his entrails!
A golden light bobbed, causing a brief distraction. Kit sucked in a breath as the tiny being landed on the tip of his nose.
“What—“ The insect buzzed away and Kit tracked its winding movement until it perched atop a luminous flower. “Oh my, it is a garden.”
Flanking their path was an unfathomable amount of blossoms, bushes, and vines. He didn’t know what any of them were called and dared not ask. Miniature winged insects fluttered about while frogs lazed on lily pads in a nearby pond. Sculptures, fountains, and sitting areas gave the area personality.
“Yeah,” Jo said, sighing. “She’s a pack rat. Like, bad. Almost bad as Old Man Joyner. I been telling her they’d make a nice couple.”
“I don’t know what a pack rat is, but it sounds lovely.”
Jo snickered and knocked on a pink oval door. He released his hold and hugged a portly woman with coral-hued curls. Kit appreciated her bespangled hair, studded with beads, both colorful and dissimilar.
“Come, my boy, come. And you’ve brought a friend! Welcome, Kit.”
“You know my name? We have never met how—“
“I know everything that happens on this ranch. I’m Maggie, honey. Now come inside so I can feed you.”
He smiled on a nod and entered the witch’s home. It was a storybook cottage and smelled of freshly baked bread. Kit was pretty good with flour and yeast as well. Though no one had ever tried his loaves except for Jasper.
Herbs hung from the ceiling and above the wood-burning stove. Jars, tea cups, and pottery cluttered every surface. Bowls of fruit and veggies straddled a large tome. Kit was awestruck. Her home was everything he figured it to be. Witches weren’t the neatest bunch. They had spells to complete, wards to cast, and medicine bags to fill. He’d done research on them, too.
Kit had been fascinated with witchcraft its wielders for many years. Powerful beings who pulled words from a page with intention and purpose.
“Sit, sit.”
He obeyed and settled on the sofa next to Jo, who lounged upside down. Feet kicking, he crunched on something and erupted in a squeal of laughter.
“How’s the house business going, Kit?”
“I can’t say. We’re supposed to do the demolition tonight.”
“Yeah, right. Leave it to Grandma Nima. All she wanna do is swing that hammer. There are things you gotta do before the actuarial construction begins. I’m sure Papa Buck is handling it as we speak .”
Kit twisted around to examine the witch. “Are you a relative?”
“I was married to their son, Carter.”
“Was?”
“He caught the travel bug,” Maggie said, cutting into a cake Kit would devour in seconds. “Went off to fight in a war that was no business of ours. Trolls. Quarrelsome. Bah! Anyway, Carter transitioned some twenty years ago. I’m Jo’s grandmother.”
“Ohhh, this is getting rather confusing.”
“I can see how it would. We got ‘bout four generations of Sunsides in this town. Be prepared. Not everyone stayed, but I got more cousins than I can shake a stick at. Here you go, baby.”
Kit hurried to accept the gift of sugar. “Thank you, this looks divine.”
“Divine? You flatter me.”
“Never.”
Maggie blushed and slapped the fairy’s foot. “Jo, sit your behind up. Every which way on my couch. You lost ya mind. Huh.”
“Oooo. Cake!”
Jo hunched over his plate and smiled. “Grandma, is there extra raisins in it?”
“You damn skippy.”
“Mmmm. Carrot cake is the only cake I eat.”
Kit didn’t know what carrot cake was, but the moment bits of carrot, dried fruit, and cinnamon greeted his tongue,e he understood Jo’s comment. It was unlike anything Kit had ever tasted. Soft, moist, with a slight crunch.
“What is that toffee-like morsel?! What brand of heaven is this? Ohhh, Maggie, I have been gifted food from a skilled god of fare!”
Maggie exploded in a crackle of giggles and clapped her hands. “Take that Culinary Arts and kiss my Black ass!”
“Yes!” Kit whooped and raised his fork. “Kiss her Black ass Arts of the Culinary.”
Jo hollered in laughter and choked. He hacked while Maggie patted his back. “Slow down, baby. I told you, chew before you swallow. You know, he came out of the womb with a spoon in his hand.”
“Seriously?” Kit gasped, and Maggie waved a hand.
“You’re hilarious. Not many demons are. I like you, Kit.”
He perked at the compliment, as no stranger had said such things to him before. After scraping crumbs, Maggie ordered him to have another slice. Of course, he agreed.
“Jo, you know them Platter boys stole two more pumpkins from Mr. Carol again.”
“Come onnnnn, Grandma no work talk.”
“No, you gotta do somethin’ about ‘em.”
“I already did, I—“
“You gave them a stern talking to. That ain’t gon’ cut it, this is the third time. You know Mr. Carol is getting his patch ready for the fair.”
Jo finished his last bite and groaned aloud. Kit didn’t see what the issue was.
“Are these ruffians?” Kit asked. “Barbarous thieves?”
“They’re teenagers,” Jo said. “Seventeen and eighteen. Kids. They have an obsession with pumpkins. I don’t know.”
“Are you their ward?”
“What? Nah. I’m the Sheriff.”
“And as sheriff,” Maggie piped, braiding strands of ribbon dangling with charms, “its your job to stop crime.”
“I got deputies for that shit.”
“Boy.”
“Sorry, ma’am. But why I gotta do it?”
Maggie hit Jo with a telling side eye, one even Kit evaded by looking at a stack of thick books on the coffee table. Herbs, stones, and trees. He’d love to read each volume for research purposes.
“You wanna go on a ride-along with me tomorrow?” Jo asked.
“A what?”
“Do you want to ride with me while I’m working. Doing boring sheriff stuff.”
“Absolutely! I’d love the chance to dish out laws and orders. And rid Indigo Plains of all tomfoolery.”
Kit waggled his brows and nudged Jo with an elbow. he snickered.
“You not doing none of that. But I love the enthusiasm.”
“Aw.” Kit slouched into the sofa. “Can I at least arrest someone?”
“I can’t remember the last time I arrested somebody. Maybe five years ago?”
“Wait, but you’re a land-dwelling patron of order, as we call those with authority in Undervell, you must detain and judge.”
“Our courthouse is for like, property cases. Civil suits. There’s virtually no crime here.”
“Save for them Platter boys,” Maggie mumbled.
“Grandmaaaaa.”
“How odd. Jasper said crime is a huge issue in the capital.”
“I bet,” Jo chimed. “And Johnny Law makes it worse.”
“How?”
“I don’t got it in me for a talk like that. Grandma, more cake!”
“You want another piece too?”
Kit tapped his lips and scrunched his nose. “Do…uhm…do a pig shit?”
Jo cackled, stomped his feet, and smacked Kit in the arm.
“Lords,” Maggie rolled her eyes and said, “You sound like Buck already.”

Chapter 8: Brunch and Buck

Jasper

Waking at 2pm wasn’t bad. In fact, Jasper loved it. She figured later was best when on vampire time. After a lovely bath in a clawfoot tub, she marched out onto the porch and settled in the adorable swing. Typically, she listened to music and stitched, but with a natural symphony, she opted not to. This new kind of peace was jarring and yet, wonderful.
No matter the time of day their land enchanted her. Sheep, goats, and chickens of various sizes grazed as their canine wardens played with each other. Jasper focused on her project and fed the needle through crisp linen. She poked and pulled with a light hand, listening to birds sing their favorite tune.
It was beautiful up here, above ground, on land. Undervell didn’t have blue jays or robins. They had Tarlickers, Scorgefolls, and Stingburrs. The avian creatures resembled lizards more than anything else. The dust bird thing from last night reminded her of them, only without feathers and beaks.
Jasper smiled at the hint of sweet and woody. She drove the needle through and looked up to find Buck Sunside to her immediate right.
He leaned on the railing and laughed. “Well I’ll be god damn, that’s a unicorn riding a phallus.”
Jasper showcased her artwork and said, “It’s a commission.”
“Ain’t the wildest thing I’ve seen.”
“I bet.”
“So it’s true. You got the sewing bug, too. Shiiit. Some nights I wake up with a pin in my hair and thread in the crack of my ass.”
She stifled an ugly giggle and considered Buck for half a second. Sleeves rolled high like slut, Stetson tilted just so. He belonged on the red carpet, congregating with movie stars who looked like him. Burnished brown skin, full lips, and a black silk stare probably pulled them all within minutes.
“I wanted a hobby and found one,” Jasper said, petting embroidered knots. “You have no idea the type of shit people ask me for.”
“Oh yes, I do.” Buck slapped solid wood and set his sights beyond. “One time, somebody asked Nieema to make a quilt using their own hair and snake skin.”
“Whaaat?”
“Yeah. Old man Joyner. He live up in the mountains. Hermit. You know the type. Few bolts loose but sweet.”
“Ah.”
She hadn’t met a hermit and never wanted to. Refocused on her stitch, Jasper heard his heavy boots climb steps and clomp across the porch. She held her breath as he plopped down next to her without asking. This was, technically his house. His property.
Jasper wasn’t shy, especially around men, but Buck’s soul was dark, whereas his scent was sweet as cane sugar.
She’d like a nibble.
“I hear you lived in the capital?”
“I did.”
“For how long?”
His voice was a problem all its own.
“Nine years.”
Buck high whistled, snatching her attention. She checked on the smiling man and bit her tongue. He lounged with arms splayed and legs wide open. Arrogance wafted, and Jasper nearly took the bait, but she was stronger now. Staring wasn’t going to do a damn thing but piss her off a bit.
“I suppose,” Jasper chimed, “people fawn over you. They trip and fall. Maybe even faint. But you’re not as sly as you believe yourself to be. Have you forgotten that I’m a succubus? An old one who can sense your arousal half a mile out.”
Buck chuckled and shook his head. “Well, since you know then we clear on what is I want.”
“The answer is no. You can’t have it.”
“Fair enough.” He tipped his hat and reached into his pocket for a pack of gum. “I respect boundaries and I respect people.”
Jasper watched him shove a strip of cinnamon between his white teeth and wanted to bite him.
He respected boundaries?
She was befuddled by Buck’s quick acceptance. Men, especially male demons, rarely gave a shit about womens boundaries.
“Listen, I came by cause there’s some business you gotta handle. Papers and contracts to sign. I’m gonna take you on down to the office.”
“Oh, nice. Let me—“
“Jasper?” Kit called, stepping outside in an apron covered with flowers and flour. “Brunch is served. Hello, Buck. What a pleasant surprise. Would you like to join us?”
Buck snapped gum, checked his watch, and laughed. “I mean, sure, you’ll never see me turn down free food. But sir, you’re a few hours late for brunch.”
“Seeing as Jasper and I just woke, I’d say it’s a perfect time.” Kit clapped and ran inside. “This is exciting!”
Buck looked to Jasper and squinted. “How scared should I be?”
“In Undervell, he’s pretty good with a brick oven, but some of our ingredients are… weird. This is his first time making land dweller food.”
“Shit,” Buck grumbled. “I already committed, so I reckon there ain’t no turning back.”
“You can change your mind.”
“Hell no. I’m a man of my word.”
Jasper followed Buck inside, though in no hurry. She put her project in the basket near the sofa and examined the table. It didn’t look bad. Most of Kit’s offerings were standard.
“What we have is French toast, peach and cream crepes, fatty meats, and eggs from those chickens outside. I did have quite the adventure trying to collect them from various hiding places. Some of the ladies attacked me. They are quite feral.”
They both found a seat at the table and grabbed a plate.
“This looks amazin’, Kit,” Buck announced.
“Why, thank you! I don’t understand your measurement system well, but tutorials helped.”
Jasper adored how Kit straightened and beamed with pride. No one had ever cared about his mess in the kitchen. Their father said cooking was for lesser demons, not a Carriont heir.
After loading her plate, Jasper cut into the French toast and sampled it. Kit rushed over with his journal and bumped his knee as he tried to sit.
The old coot was nervous and at the ready with a pen.
“Tell me. You hate it? What’s bad? Does it taste bland or rancid? I tend to enjoy a fermented bread soaked in onion juice.”
Buck coughed, and Kit gasped. Jasper giggled, noshing on a thick slice of the best French toast she’d ever had. And that wasn’t an exaggeration.
Buck sipped his milk and said, “Folks ‘round here don’t go talking about onion juices during breakfast. That’s sick. But I gotta say, this here is some mighty fine toast. Thick, coated just right, and sweet. Mm! I need me a plate to go.”
Kit scribbled in his journal and nodded. “What of the eggs?”
“Oh, uhhhhh.” Buck made a face. “Too salty, and you gotta take it easy on the pepper. We like spicy shit, but the eggs gotta be left alone.”
“Got it. No salt and—:
“Hold on now, I didn’t say that. I said, less, salt. There’s a difference.”
Jasper ran another piece of bread through a pool of maple syrup and said, “I agree. Too salty, but otherwise fantastic. You have outdone yourself, brother.”
“Also,” Buck cleared his throat and dabbed his lips with a napkin, “those ain’t our chickens. Them hens belong to Hank. And he’s not gon’ like you touching their eggs.”
Jasper smiled with a mouthful. Kit’s slate gray cheeks darkened as he frowned. “I didn’t see any in the chiller and I—“
“It’s in the storage bin on the bottom shelf, left-hand side, probably. Nieema loves to keep shit overly organized. Don’t ask me why. She buys a box or container for everything.”
“Sooooo, is that why none of the foodstuffs have packaging? Because I believe it’s a waste of time and actually—“
“I think it’s tidy,” Jasper interjected, defending Nieema’s organizational skills. “Labels would help, though. Last night I had a rough time finding the cheese.”
“That’s what I said,” Buck hollered. “But she don’t like labels. Says they’re ugly.” He shrugged and went in on his victuals.
For fifteen minutes, their trio chowed and finished every bite of Kit’s fare. Even the crepes were perfect. Jasper didn’t think her brother had been at the cooking thing for long, but perhaps she hadn’t paid enough attention.
Several burps and grunts later, Jasper slipped into a pair of sandals and fixed the bow on her head. She’d decided on a crocheted crop top and a fun ruffled skirt. After adorning each horn tip with rainbow caps, she grabbed her phone and skipped out the door.

Buck

Gods and devils, Jasper was the prettiest little thing dressed in purple and red. She had a smile that’d make the sun jealous, prancing toward him like a happy, carefree dame. One moment, Jasper stood tall as an impenetrable fortress; the next, she was soft as spring clouds during April showers.
“I’m ready,” Jasper said, twirling from side to side.
Buck laughed and started their journey back to the house. This woman was a doozy to read. He’d thought they wanted the same thing, and was wrong. Buck assumed he had this demoness figured out when, in fact, he didn’t. Nieema was spot on with Jasper. She was complex.
Environs shifted when they shared the same space but something gave her pause. Jasper’s eyes glittered and sparked talking to Nieema. Buck hadn’t imagined their interactions and attraction. It was there, but Jasper laid the cards flat and was honest. Full stop, she pumped the breaks and they had to accept it.
Nobody said they couldn’t be friends, though. Jasper looked like the kinda fun Buck enjoyed.
“What papers do I have to sign? Hope it’s not my soul.”
Buck cackled as their long legs gobbled up the trail. In no time, he spotted his car. “Isn’t that your thing?”
“Sometimes.”
“Seriously?”
He wiggled keys free from his pocket and stabbed the remote, unlocking doors.
“We only kill other demons. Make soul contracts with other demons. Not every demon can make someone give them jewels or wages. To be honest, most can’t do it.”
“You can.”
Jasper laid a sidelong stare on him and smirked. “Sure, but I don’t. Life’s no fun that way, trust me.”
He sighed and opened the door for her. Jasper was cute as a button and lived honorably. She was far too adorable, and he understood her hesitation. Succubi sniffed out souls like he tracked mint leaves. Buck wasn’t delusional about it, he was not everyone’s cup of sweet sun tea. And you couldn’t hide from a succubus.
Jasper saw straight through his countryside charm and manners.
“Click that belt, darlin’.”
“Cut the pet name shit.”
“Fine by me.”
He knew for a fact she liked it, but wouldn’t press. With Jasper tucked and secure, he revved the engine.
“Ohhhh, my goodness.” She giggled and cupped her mouth. “Do that again!”
He smashed the gas and Jasper exploded in more laughter. The minute he hit the highway she was gasping for air.
“I-I’ve never been in an old car.”
“Had her for seventy years.”
“Seventy?!”
“Mhm. Just swapped the block, tuned her right on up. Got some heated crystal core pistons under the hood now. Some say it kills the transmission, but I haven’t felt no change. Grant it, I ain’t no mechanic, but I know how Ursala rides.”
“I have no idea what the hell you said, but I love your car.”
Buck gripped the woodgrain and added twenty to the dash. Jasper’s smile remained for miles, and he was happy to be the cause. She liked his tunes and complimented his driving. Jasper was a chatterbox, and Buck had always been the listening sort.
“When are we going to start the demolition thing?” Jasper asked.
“Demo—woman, I don’t know what Nieema told you, but we won’t be doing that tonight. We have to survey first. Get an idea of what we can salvage and take a few measurements.”
Jasper deflated and pouted. She muttered and faced the window.
“Yeah, I know. Everybody gets excited about them sledgehammers.”
“I wanted to destroy something. It’d be a good stress reliever.”
“It sure is, but let’s handle the boring stuff first.”
She cocked a brow before rolling her big copper eyes.
Buck hit the exit and rumbled into town. Folks were out and about, mostly human. They got an early start to the day, nocturnal fae were just waking or sleeping in. Buck got about three-four hours, his Drendt side kept energized.
“Okay, here we are.” Buck parked in a near empty lot and locked up. “This shouldn’t take long. ‘Bout twenty. After, we’ll head to the house with Nordizach.”
“This is no fun at all.”
Buck snickered, allowing her entry first. Their construction firm was a two-story glass house. It looked like your everyday city office. Omari took charge some years back and redecorated. Buck thought it was pretentious and stuffy. They even had uniforms and company colors. It was bullshit but not his circus anymore. Yes, Buck and Nieema owned it but neither wanted the job after ten years of running the show.
Blue-collar gigs were not their bag, though they tried for some time. Good thing they had other, more lucrative streams of income.
Omari was quick on his feet with eyes fixed on Jasper. The ever-busy career-oriented male didn’t have time for a lady. According to his ex-wife, Omari was emotionally unavailable. Given how he tripped and stumbled from his office, he was up to no good. Buck quirked a brow as the man-child ran at them with his hand out.
“Hello, hi.” Omari’s smile touched his ears. Buck sighed as he tried to put on a show. “I’m Omari Sunside. What can I do for you?”
Jasper smirked, shaking the boys hand. She exchanged glances with them and hummed.
“Sunside, as in…”
“Hay, Pop.”
She giggled and reached for the glittering gold chains at her throat.
After a quick embrace, Buck got to the introduction.
“This here is Jasper, she just moved into that spot on Great Oaks.”
Omari smacked his teeth and said, “Cold-blooded. Hawke the Realtor?”
“Yeees?” Jasper posed the question, letting Buck know she’d been swindled.
“I bet Jack doesn’t know about this. That house is a death trap and is cursed.”
Jasper flinched. “Cursed? How?”
“No one who moves in stays.”
Buck nodded as she looked to him for confirmation. He didn’t think it was cursed, but rather a shit hole built on shit land. Most of the houses in that neighborhood needed foundational work year-round.
“It ain’t good land, is all. Hard upkeep.”
Omari sniffed and shook his head. “Jasper, if I were you, I’d hire pest control and go to a hotel.”
“Oh, no need. I’m staying at the Sunsides Inn.”
Buck caught her wry grin and popped brows. Omari, the tramp, slouched at the news. He knew damn well when folks found their way onto the ranch they were either going to fuck or had. Unless they were dignitaries or political figures from across The Frothing sea, of course.
Jasper was neither, so she was free to share sheets and sweat with Omari if she wanted. She blushed as if impressed. They yammered about the town, and Jasper asked him about places to eat and where to get fabrics. Nieema was the best to ask for the latter.
Buck cracked his gum, interrupting the fast friends, and said, “We came to see Yardi. Jasper got papers to sign, and I have a house to survey.”
“Alright, Pop.”
Buck embraced his son in a tight, comforting hug and ran a hand over his waves.
“Stop!”
“They need some love, my boy.”
“Leave me be. I’m losing sleep over this mall business.”
“I know it.”
Omari focused on Jasper and said, “It was nice meeting you, Jasper, and welcome to Indigo Plains. Watch it with this one, he’s trouble.”
“So am I.”
Jasper arched a brow and grinned. She was mischievous and sly. Buck knew it by how her eyes stuck to him. She might not want to, but she had thoughts. He was damn certain about that.
With a final wave, they separated, and Buck started the short journey. He banked right with Jasper at his side, still smiling.
“He’s your twin.”
“Ya think so? I always been told he look like his mama.”
“I see her, but he has your eyes and… air.”
“My air, huh?”
Jasper nodded, keeping them eyes ahead. He hummed, cracked gum, and scratched his jaw in confusion.
At their destination, Buck knocked on the glass, spooking Reese Yardi Muckerton. The fine fella was reading the contract he’d drawn up last night for what was sure to be the fifth time. Meticulous and detail-oriented, Yardi was an excellent project manager who memorized every word he typed.
“Hello, there.” Yardi shook Jasper’s hand and ushered them into his office. “It is great to meet you, Jasper. And welcome to Indigo Plains. I hope it’s treating you well.”
“Better than expected.”
“Love to hear it, please have a seat.”
Everybody grabbed a chair, and Buck removed his hat. He placed it on top of the man’s desk. It earned him a glare. To be funny, Buck left it there. Yardi snatched the folder from under the brown brim.
The human fiddled with his wire-frame glasses and said, “I’m sorry about your home. I don’t think anyone would have agreed to buying it if they were made aware of the damage.”
Jasper shrugged. “I went in knowing it was a fixer-upper. I just didn’t know to what degree. I overdid it. I do that sometimes, you know.”
Buck scoffed, and Yardi snorted. “Even so. We know Hawke. He saw easy prey and dove for the kill. He took advantage of you.”
“That’s what I keep hearing.”
Buck ground his molars at the show of Jasper’s nervousness. She went for them chains and gnawed on her lip. He wanted to pat her knee or rub her back, but it’d be wildly inappropriate. The urge was strong, though.
“That’s why we here,” Buck said. “To fix what we can.”
Reese wagged a finger and nodded. “Exactly, and Buck here knows how these things go. Jasper, you will here a bunch of construction talk, but don’t you fret, it’s to keep you safe. It’s to keep our workers safe and to ensure everyone can do their part. We will be going with a time and materials contract on this one.”
Buck propped a booted foot up onto his thigh and grumbled, “I know it. The place is a hellhole. Alls good. Tell me where to sign and I’ll start writing checks.”
“Wait.” Jasper butt-in. Her molten eyes sparkled and bulged some. She was shocked as hell. “What checks? You said it was free.”
“For you, yeah. But materials and labor ain’t free. I gotta pay these people. We’ll be doing most of the structural work, but I’m not an electrician or a plumber. I can pound nails, sand pine, and install drywall all day, but that’s far as I go.”
Jasper was set to refuse, but Buck saw it in her hardening expression.
“The Sunsides do this,” Yardi added. “You’re not the first. They take on a lot of projects and pay for them out of pocket. You’re one of hundreds they’ve saved, financially speaking.”
Reese gulped his coffee and sighed. He made great progress with Jasper. Her shoulders drooped, and so did her resolve. She still flicked at her jewels, but Buck knew they’d won.
“Trust me, Jasper, you want their help. The house, just from what I’ve seen in passing, tells me you’re looking at ten-twenty grand minimum. And I can only guess what the inside looks like.”
Jasper dropped her hand and said, “Fine. I don’t have two thousand, let alone twenty in my account. I’m not going to refuse. But I will figure out a way to pay you back.”
Buck chuckled and popped his gum. “Sure you will.”
“I will and don’t you dare doubt me.”
“Oh I don’t, but I didn’t ask for no reimbursement. And good luck getting that by my wife, she’ll blow a gasket.”
“I don’t care. It’s a lot of mone—“
“Moving along.” Buck stopped her there and inched forward, reaching for a pen. He’d started the business and knew most contract blabber well enough. “We gotta meet Zach at the house. Give her a quick rundown, Yardi. I’ll start signing.”