Neon Red: Chapter 12

Low was in his element. Standing over the six-range Viking, he tested his famous gravy. “Mhm. Can’t get no better than that.” Some spent money on cars, jewels, and watches. Nah, he loved plants and kitchen appliances. Subzero, Vikin,g, and Mielie. They were Boujee and pricey, but when you were a homebody, you needed reliable shit. And in this age of obsolescence, expensive goods tended to last longer… as planned.
On the menu for tonight was slow-cooked garlic pork roast, fried cabbage, truffle mashed potatoes, and homemade French bread. Not his loaf, but Max’s. The female baked her ass off but could not cook rice. Washing hands, he nodded at the boys who were in the living room, lounging like they had not a care in the world.
Low turned the warmer and timer off. “Ashton, can you set the table?” He heard a whistle and shuffling. “Teddie, kill the game boy. It’s time to eat.”
“Yup, I’m super hungry.”
“I know the feeling, bruh.”
Mitts on, he retrieved a loaded pan filled with sizzling meat from the oven and marched to the table. “Ohhhhhh, Low, that looks amazing.”
“It’s finna taste better too.”
“I believe it. I told Ron you make the best shrimp and grits in Florida. He said, ‘hell nah, my mama does.’ So, I said ‘bet’. You have to make some shrimp and grits now.”
The boy talked a mile a minute and took no breaks unless he had to breathe. “How you volunteer me like that?”
“Simple. I know yours is better.”
Ashton rushed around carrying utensils, cups, and condiments. He loved setting the table, but Low knew it was more so outta habit. Pops made damn certain his sons set the table for their entire lives. Low had done it ‘til moving out at a hunnit and twenty years old.
Sides joined the main dish, and seconds later, they were seated. Low ate breakfast or lunch with them, depending on how he felt. But supper was to be eaten at the table. No matter what, at some point during the day, he enjoyed a meal with his siblings.
“Hands.” Palms up and outstretched, he gripped the smaller ones. Bowing their heads, Low waited for Teddie. It was his turn.
“Lord, we thank you for the food you allowed us to have. And thank you for giving my brother the know-how to cook it, and in Jesus’ name, bless those who are without bread. In Jesus name we pray, Amen.”
“Amen.” Low paused talking to stack protein on his plate. “How’s gymnastics going, Teddie?”
His brother smiled and passed around the mashed potatoes. “I’m second in ranks.”
“That’s what’s up. You been going at it all month. See? Practice makes what?”
“Perfect,” Teddie sang.
Theodor was a happy teenager on the cusp of manhood. Sixteen, innocent, and never been in the streets or seen a gun. Their parents did well until the moment they left.
“I have a shot at the championship this year.”
After loading his plate, Low clapped palms with Teddie. “I know you gon’ make it. And if you keep going. You’ll get that scholarship, too.”
Teddie beamed, his brown eyes shining with pride. “I know I will. It’s about manifestation. Max told me—”
“Here we go.”
“What?” Teddie frowned with a mouth full. “She’s right. A positive mindset works. You stick with it and make things happen. When you realize how powerful your own thoughts are, the faster you can wipe out negative energy.”
Low laughed and shook his head while chomping on potatoes. Looking at Ashton, he ran a hand over his short, pre-dreads.
“And what about you, boy? How are you doing in the band?”
Ashton nodded, dropped his fork, and signed.
It’s going good, though, I’m still kinda bad. I think the violin is my instrument. I really mean it this time.
“Are you sure?” Low asked with a smirk. “You ain’t tried drums yet.”
Ashton shook his head and signed.
Nah, too noisy. You know I love classical strings. I just had to decide. Cello, violin, flute, clarinet, trumpet. I got the piano down, thanks to Max. But I’m sure it’s the violin for me. I like how it feels in my hands. It speaks to me.
This little boy was fourteen and growing too damn fast. Ashton was seven years old when they were abandoned. Now, he wore braces, stood five-foot-seven, and talked about girls. Pretty soon, he and Theodore would be grown men.
Time ain’t stop for no damn body.
Low smiled, flashing fangs. “Whatever you do, it’s gonna be great, Ash. Once you learn a skill, you excel. I’m proud of you.” Glancing at Teddie, he said. “Both of ya’ll. I just wish I could be there for competitions and recitals. I’m sorry about that.”
The middle brother shrugged. “You always say sorry for things you can’t control, Low. You didn’t ask to be a vampire who has a sun allergy. It’s the weirdest thing. Don’t you think, Ash?”
He nodded and signed. It makes no sense. And then, one day, I’ll be allergic too. But I’m more of a night person, anyway.
“Yeah, but you remember,” Teddie shoveled cabbage and snorted. “You remember when I put garlic in your room?”
“I do.” Low sipped his cold, sweet blood happily and smiled. “That was when I first told you, right? Yeah, yeah. Y’all wanted proof so bad. You put garlic under my pillow and about burned me to death.”
He side-eyed Ashton, ‘cause that sneaky boy got him fresh out the shower. Low walked into his room, and Ash ripped the curtains aside.
Ashton rolled his eyes and signed. I believed you afterwards.
“Yeah, I would hope—”
The doorbell interrupted their chatter. Standing, Low checked the time. 9:30 and barely vampire hours, but he had called for Mrs. Piper to watch the boys, since they ain’t know how to act. Hitting a u-turn, he jogged out of the kitchen and hustled for the door. “Max?”
She waved from beyond the glass.
“Hay, baby. I was just about to text you, too. I was finna hea—what’s wrong?”
Her feet dragged along with her face. Maxi was a positive ball of happy-go-luckiness. Sometimes, her never-ending jubilation got on his last damn nerves. But when Low closed the door, sadness clogged a dark silence as her forehead met his chest.
“What’s the matter, Max? Talk to me,” Low said, his demand terse. Linking arms around him, she mumbled. “What is it?”
He stepped into the bar area, entrance adjacent, and sat on a stool, pulling Max onto his lap. “Woman, you gotta speak up.”
Low hated it when she was sad and blue. It didn’t feel good on the inside. Cupping her cheek, he yanked off the frames and tossed them on the bar-top.
“I’m getting married,” she muttered, about ready to cry. Low heard those words, but the loud racket behind his ribs made it tough to make out.
“You what?”
“I’m getting marrieeeed.”
Hands dropped away as he recoiled. Who would have thought he’d care this much? Low remained willfully ignorant for years. He refused to scrutinize what had blossomed between them for his sanity, her mental health, and the job. They had an agreement, an arrangement that worked great, but…
“When did you meet somebody?” he asked, unable to look at her. Staring at rows of top-shelf liquor and hanging martini glasses was a better game plan. The sudden feeling of betrayal had him fucked up. It was unwanted and ridiculous. They were grown adults who set boundaries from the first time they…
“Low?”
“You said we would tell each—”
“Oh, my god. No, I didn’t meet anyone.”
He cut back to Max with questions. “I don’t understand.”
“My dad did this.”
He jacked to his feet and paced. “What the fu—what the fuck?!” Linking fingers atop his head, Low halted and gawked. “Are you playing with me right now?! Max, don’t play. Please don’t.”
“I’m not. This guy named Matthias came over, and basically, I have to…”
Some shit hurt Low’s feelings, other things turned his pillows red. Then some issues and dilemmas made a man wanna rip his own heart out. And to be trill, this was the second time Low felt the latter. As Max explained the whole ordeal, he wanted to vomit. What was finna happen? Was Raymond Lawry going to take her away? Would they move out of state? The bleak thought threatened every bite he swallowed.
“Is everything okay?” Teddie asked. His concern called Low’s muddled mind into the present.
“Uh, yeah.” He nodded. “It’s fine. Max, baby, you hungry?”
Shaking her head, she smiled. “Hay Teddie.”
“We have mashed potatoes.” He knew how much she loved the spud.
Ashton ran in next, slipping on socked feet, and slammed into her.
“Hi, kid,” she chimed as the boy pulled her into the kitchen. “Guess I’ll have a bite.”
Both of his brothers were taller than she, but it never stopped the woman from babying them.
Low was about to flip. Like, he needed to smoke, or he’d kill one of his children. Not the boys, but a plant. They were his kids. Well, not all. Some were closer to him than that.
“See.” Teddie showcased a tub crammed with slices of bread. “He even let us have some. Cause you know he’s stingy with it.”
“It’s mine, the eff you mean.” Low barked. Max gave him the nastiest scowl in return.
“No.” She snarled and said, “I will tear you up. Y’all can have as much as you want, and if you like, I can make another batch tonight.”
When they sat, Low cleared his throat. “Mhm, nah, I’m heading out. Which means you are too.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“You do.” He smirked.
“Where are we going?” Max asked, handling baked goods. She smeared butter on its fluffy white top.
He shrugged. “Don’t know. I ain’t the one driving.”

Good evening, y’all. I know it’s late, but it’s still Friday! This is a win! Also, I am writing this half asleep, but I did it. I really hope you have a terrific weekend, and per the norm, I want to thank you. If not for y’all, I wouldn’t keep doing this. Your time and interest mean everything. Have a wonderful Memorial weekend, loves! Byyyyeee.

Chapter 24: Strange Happenings

Dorthy was the best in the business. She had her shit on lock and got the job done. There was no negating such facts. She went to school for it, graduated with honors. Dean’s list all four years. Yeah, Jasper loved her setup and preparedness. She came ready with binders and folders, swatches, and textures. Buck appreciated her drive and passion to help their clients. He loved Dorthy’s work ethic and attention to detail; the woman was thorough.
But, he could do without her and Trey’s shit. They made a beautiful couple and put three gorgeous children through college. They were raised right, but things turned sour after them babies left home. They were off doing big things while their parents made a mess. Thirty years of marriage down the drain because Dorthy slipped.
Buck didn’t hate the girl for what she’d done to his grandson, but he sure didn’t like her, or the fact that she was with child, again. This would be baby number four and they weren’t even together.
Dorthy didn’t want Trey.
Fine.
Why fuck around, though, if that was the case? Buck didn’t understand it one bit. These kids and their foolishness. Trey loved her; he was a good man who didn’t deserve to have his heart destroyed like this.
And yeah, maybe Buck had something to say. Mayhap he was feeling a way about it as well. Trey had told them to stay out of it, and Buck was trying.
Goddess help him, but he kept his mouth shut as the women discussed paint options.
He smiled, meandering in the living room. There was still so much work left for them to do. New floors, plaster, beams, and even the foundation was shit. Buck had every intention of finishing before winter. The weather was calm at the moment, but it’d turn come November.
Buck had no real reason to stick around, but was forced to stay. She wouldn’t let him leave. Jasper paid him no mind and didn’t have to. Her presence was enough. Her dapper attire fucked him up from the door. A woman who looked good in anything was his weakness. Putting that shit on with confidence. She even had unmitigated gall to add a splash of something dark, spicy, and sweet.
It was her syrupy, hot, honey butter lilt and laughter tugging on his belt. Succubi were unintentionally cruel and reactive. He knew how this worked, but Jasper was like no other. He’d experienced their demonic curses and enchantments. There were none between them. She hadn’t tried to hook her claws into his soul quite yet, but she’d wanted to, he was god damn certain of it.
To keep himself steady and aware, Buck decided on a walkabout. The house was decent in size and compartmentalized like any proper old-world home. Room within a room. Pocket doors, ninety-degree angles, and an outstanding turret. Two floors and an attic he’d rather not check up on. Buck ambled and re-assessed. There was something nostalgic about them dusty, creaky homes. He could just about smell allat lemon wax and cigar smoke beneath mold and stagnant water.
He’d do his ultimate best to keep her bones; they were good, he sensed it much. On the second level, he ventured into the half bath, smelling those critters. “Y’all had better behave this round and—well, I’ll be.”
Buck noted their abandoned lavatory condo and spotted black granules. Curiosity bugged the hell out of him, so he answered its call, dabbing the dust. A brief sniff told a somber tale.
“Rest with the soil,” Buck muttered. Somebody done killed the little bastards. Which was actually against the law. Faerie of all species were to be left alone, according to the Queen Creed. Vampires, fairies, fae, and weres were safe in Ravensguard. It was neutral ground and oftentimes, a haven for those in need.
An annoying squeal and holler called for attention. Buck huffed and jogged down the rickety, warped staircase.
“Where’s ‘at god damn container?!”
“The kitchen,” Jasper announced. “Maybe.”
Hustling around the corner, he cracked his gum and gritted his teeth. Buck searched what was left of the kitchen. “Where is—” He spotted a pea green casserole dish and snagged it with two fingers. It’d been through hell.
Patience lacking, he dashed through the back door, cleared the steps in a single bound, and followed the trail he’d made.
Sissy Perkins was a difficult resident. He’d seen her at town hall meetings complaining about mismatched flowers, grass two shades darker than verdant, large dogs and their shedding on the sidewalk, wing mottling, and the smell of airing buds in bloom. Mind you, airing buds were essential to sprites, as they were a mating season indicator. There was absolutely nothing to be done about it.
“Ah, Mr. Sunside,” Sissy’s fingers flexed, reaching for her property. She snatched it when able. “Thank—what the hell happened to it?”
“Wicker spider guts.”
“Yeah, yeah. Ugly critters.”
She examined the dish and snarled, resembling a sneaky kingbird snake. They were highly poisonous, the size of a sheep dog, and killed their prey by laying eggs in its mouth. Their main line of defense was mimicry and camouflage.
“When are you gonna start working on this place?” Sissy asked, snippier than a jackal ope. Eyes on Jasper’s place, she scowled. “It’s bringing the entire neighborhood down.”
Buck nodded, gaze locked onto the duo up the street. They were nosy and chatty. “Don’t you worry, Ms. Perkins, we gone get this place cleaned up.”
“Hope so, I’m sick of looking at it.”
“Have a good one, now.”
She gave a curt nod and scurried off, joining her little friends. Buck stood watch and fetched his phone. After a quick swipe, he stabbed Jo’s precious baby photo. Two rings later, the young man answered.
“Funny, I was just thinking about you, Papa.”
“Somethin ain’t right with Sissy Perkins.”
“This ‘bout that cult shit?”
“Hell yeah.”
“How you know?”
Buck popped his gum and tipped his hat to them, weird humans. They blanched and got the hell on. Most knew him by first name and reputation instead of his title.
Buck didn’t play about his family nor the fine fae of Indigo Plains. And most humans were trouble, more than they were worth. Of course, the ones in his family tree were swell, but he was wary of those he didn’t know. The flock with bias, prejudices, and such, he loathed. If not for the appearance of an odd, freak tear between worlds a millennium ago, humans would’ve eradicated their own species at some point. Buck was sure of it.
“‘Cause I know,” Buck said, snapping gum. “The magic on her smells old, and Chessie said Jasper’s house is cursed and been cursed.” He seethed at the thought of somebody taking advantage of Jasper. His bones creaked, and ears itched. He was ready to tear a hole in somebody’s ass. “I’m about to head on over to Hawke in a minute.”
“Ohhhh shit. I heard he was the one to put up that house.”
“And didn’t think twice about taking her money. I’mma get every dime back, too.”
“Don’t hurt him, now, Papa.”
“I ain’t making no promises.” Buck snapped gum, grinding his teeth. “Get on up here and do some investigations.”
Jo cackled like he was getting his feet tickled.
“Now what the hell is so funny?! Get your silly behind over here and do some sheriff work.”
Buck cussed as his demand only made the boy giggle. Heading back towards the house, he kicked up dirt. It was dry as hell, damn near white.
“Papa, we aren’t detectives. What are we supposed to be doing?”
Buck shrugged and dropped to his haunches. No bugs meant no sustenance. He scooped a handful of craggy soil and sniffed.
“This smells bad. Like somebody done died. No silt, minerals, or bacteria. It’s cursed, alright.”
Buck stood, shaking his head. “Look, Jo. I just need to know what’s going on with Sissy Perkins and nem.”
“Shit. You got cause, Papa?”
“Yeah, cause I said so.”
Jo smiled, and he didn’t have to be in the man’s face to know it. “I’ll send Powell. He’s got senses for shit like this.”
“Good.” Buck stalled on the back porch and tapped his boot. “How’s Numa. You never said nothing, but I was worried about him.”
“Ah, you know. He’s good, good. Misses his Mama. But you know.”
It’d been two years since Jo lost his wife and they lost a great-grandchild. The pain never vanished. It was much like an angry tide. Ebb and flow. Buck found it hard to speak about the ones they’d lost. Two. Carter and Mary. He missed them. Numa was a grown man by the time his mother married Jo, but he was part of their family.
“We all do.”
Jo cleared his throat and sighed. “Alright, Papa, I got actual work to do. I can’t be running my mouth all day. “
“Yup, I love you, boy.”
“Love you too, Papa. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”
“I’m sure it will.”
“Bye, old man.”
Buck grunted and ended the call. He ain’t like this picture one bit. It smelled worse than it looked, and he had half a mind to do some investing of his own.
Hitting a quick one-eighty, he thought better of it, for now. Powell was good at his job, and Buck was certain the old wolf would find something worth a damn.

So, here’s the thing, I love buck and his grouchy self. He’s definitely our grump, but he’s so soft on the ones he loves. He goes the extra mile and doesn’t play about who he claims as his family. You fuck around with them you might lose your life. Okay? I will say, the tension between Jasper and Buck is getting on my last nerves! But, I don’t know, I feel like the payoff will be great. As I have said before, I’m a panster, and I am following along with y’all. Jasper is putting this man through it. There is something in the air about her, and he’ll find out soon enough what that is. Veteran fantasy/paranormal/monster/vampire/shifter romance folks already know what time it is. Fated what? Exactly! Anyway, thank you so much for reading. You’re amazing, truly. I hope you have a wonderful week. Give yourself grace! Oh, one last thing, drink your water, love. It’s right there, I see it. Don’t let that ice melt! Byyyeeee.

Neon Red: Chapter 8

After being interrupted in the weirdest way possible, AB spent the next few hours resorting and stacking. Without added speed, it gave him something to do. After which, he went through everything on Tracy’s slooooooow as hell 2006 Gateway PC. XP, not even Vista. It was simpler without OneDrive, Dropbox, or Drive. Quicker too.
Anndddd ohhhhh, boy, the info one gathered. Maxine Bernice Bissette did, in fact, own Ink in Hell. Daddy supplied funds, however, as he did with everything else. The Wrangler out front, a shared phone bill, and Maxine’s monthly allowance. She had nothing of her own.
AB dug in his pocket and pulled out a cherry Jolly Rancher. He unwrapped the hard candy and tossed it back.
There was no reason to be a hundred years old and not have something going for yourself if you had means. At first glance, this woman had every opportunity to be independent. Why wasn’t she self-reliant?
A woman who couldn’t take care of herself was unattractive. Personally, AB hated those who didn’t have a pot to piss in or two pennies. Much more, he couldn’t stand the ones who’d depend on him every waking moment. Being broke was not cute, baby. Sure, okay, she owned-ran the shop.
But how much did it earn? Not enough. Not in Miami, and not for a spoiled female who lived comfortably with daddy her whole life. “A damn shame.”
Sucking on his brand of crack cocaine, AB clocked the time. 2am. Roughly five hours of work. “Not bad at all.”
Accounting was something AB liked quite a bit. He loved numbers and boring, monotonous work. Hell, why not? Living was boring, so why not find a career just as tedious? With this job, AB enjoyed the freedom. Having no boss and long hours, if he wanted them. It was more of a hobby than a profession at this point. AB dragged ass going through the paperwork and shit because he enjoyed it.
Knocking around the candy in his mouth, he shot to his feet and tidied himself. Cuff links, vest, and lastly, his suit jacket. He willed the light off and promised to return. There were two tubs left and however many boxes.
On his way out, he closed the door and hoped Tracy was near. AB had a question or two, nothing big. Just a few discrepancies here and there. Passing Maxine’s room, he sniffed and growled.
She smelled amazing. Fresh gardenias and fucking Shalamar. Classic and clean. Then again, she was a poor commoner, a female who’d demand a band and diamonds just for breathing. He shuddered and stalked into the formal living, whereupon he sat on the sofa.
Perusing Tracy’s home was boorish. Someone would come along, with lights blaring and the precious aroma of grilled meat piquing his interest. Maybe he had some ramen at home, or Ricearoni. Biting down on hardened corn syrup, he watched as two stooges came laughing through the front door.
What was up with her and those glasses? Everywhere? God damn it, she had a lazy eye. For sure, something like that. Had to be, maybe a visual impairment of some sort. A subtle limp too, that wa—her thighs were throwing him off, but her not boyfriend stared.
“Why you just sitting there?” he asked.
“I’m waiting for Tracy.”
“My dad is out back,” she laughed, “oh my god…” Biting her bottom lip, she shrugged.
“Ya’ll are really high,” AB noted.
“Nah, I’m coo’. Shorty trippin’ though.” Low lied, his brilliant stormy gray stare shone through slits. “I ain’t even got my half, muh’fucka’.”
“Your what?”
Low recoiled and made a dismissive noise. “Nothing, college boy. You don’t know nothing ’bout this shit. Aye, for real, your hair is fucking me up. It’s like a red light, hella abrasive and bright.”
AB snapped his cuffs and thought to count from one to ten. He couldn’t, wouldn’t allow himself to lash out in this man’s home.
“That cookie was too big, Low… Dammmmn.”
“You lyin’, they made it with that whack ass Miami Heat.” Low chuckled and threw an arm over Maxine’s shoulder. “Shit was booboo.”
“Miami heat? The basketball team?” AB asked. They exploded in laughter once again.
“The basket—man, hell nah,” Low bellowed. “Mind the business that pays.”
AB cracked his neck and sneered at a male way in over his head. A twenty-thousand-dollar suit and kind eyes fooled a lot of people. But Low knew what kinda man he was dealing with; he didn’t seem so dumb.
“You’ll get real tired of fuckin’ with me. I promise you that.”
Maxine rolled her neck. “Ooooo.” She snorted. “Anyway, where the steak at?”
“Ah, Jaxon.” Tracy arrived, saving the day, but Low made an odd choking noise. “You’ve finished?”
AB smiled and stood. “Yes, for tonight, of course. I’ll be back Monday bright and early at nine thirty.”
“Splendid. Say, are you hungry?”
He nearly refused but Jaya wouldn’t have it. “Come on, Jaxon, you can’t turn down the T-Bone. Low is a master on the grill.”
“I am. When it come to the meat, I tear—” Maxine elbowed him.
“I’d love to, but I—”
“Love it so much, then eat it,” Maxine said.
“Let’s not do this again,” Tracy said, eying her.
“You know what,” Ab interjected, checking the Audemars. “I have some time.”
The male clapped once in celebration. “Perfect, it’s such a lovely night. Shall we?”
Everyone sauntered outside and AB was dead last. ‘Cause weeelll, ass was ass, and it wasn’t slim pickings up in this bitch.
“What a fine entertainment set up you have here, Tracy.” Sitting at a long patio table tucked under a cedar pergola, AB was actually impressed. He noted bottles of wine, bread, and various sides. Potent spices, mesquite, and peppers scented the humid night air.
They had ample lighting and smooth jazz; it was a nice touch. Everything dinner guests needed, with a built-in TV, full-sized grilling area, and room for twelve.
“Thank you so much.” Tracy grinned, admiring his well-tended backyard. “Interior design is a hobby of mine.”
AB placed his bag in the chair next to him and said, “If that’s the case, then I think you should start taking clients and build a portfolio.”
“Oh no.” He waved a hand. “Pipe dreams earn no living.”
“Pipe dreams can and will earn a living if you’re passionate enough,” AB replied, removing his jacket for the second time.
Maxine nodded. “Word.” She sat opposite him and giggled her ass off. “That’s right, Dad. Passion breeds success.”
“I don’t think that’s it.” Low added, but Maxine rolled her eyes.
“Shut up!”
“Use your inside voice, Maxine. For God’s sake. We have company. Mind yourself, girl.”
Jesus, Tracy was a nightmare. No wonder she used her body as a canvas. Rebellion appeared in many forms, and he bet money her pops hated tattoos.
“Sorry, Father,” she amended, adding bass to her voice.
“Meat coming right up!” Low shouted from behind Max. He glanced at AB. “Hope it ain’t too sweet.”
“You’ve never made it sweet, Elliot.”
Jaya was minding her own quiet business. On the phone and smiling about something.
“How long have you worked for Tracy, Jaya?” AB asked, stirring a bit of conversation. “If you don’t mind.”
She looked at Tracy and didn’t speak until he nodded. “Since nineteen-twenty-one.”
“That is a long time.” So Max had been waited on hand and foot since birth. A nanny. Jaya was Max’s nursemaid, what the fuck. He kept a bout of hysterical laughter to himself.
“It is, but I think of them as my family.” She shrugged and beamed. “They are my family.”
“Awwwwww. I love you, Jaya.”
“I love you too, Maxi.”
“Dear god.” Tracy’s disgust shone on his tight features. “What is that smell?”
Jaya’s attention cut to Max.
“Yes.” AB grimaced. “What is it, a skunk?”
“Nah, it ain’t that,” Low murmured, handling the steak platter. They smelled hella good, too. “It ain’t that stank.”
Max and Jaya snorted, but AB missed the joke. “Well, it’s strong whatever it is.”
The man smirked, showcasing a mouth full of golds. Even his fangs gleamed. “I’ve come in contact with more pungent aromas. This one is subtle, but it almost stinks.”
“Elliot, what are you going on about, man?” Tracy looked up at him while a slab was dropped on his plate.
“The smell, Tracy.”
“Oh yes, I may have to call pest control.”
Max giggled and went for the bread. “What is this? Sourdough, yeessss. I love bread. Mostly cause you can put butter on it.”
A 24-ounce T-bone was dropped on AB’s plate; juice splattered. He gaped, staring at his vest. A six-thousand-dollar Taupe Kiton vest, which he had waited two weeks to have tailored, was now stained.
This motha fucka had a death wish.
“I’m so sorry,” Low intoned. “I didn’t know it was finna hit like that.”
“Elliot, that was quite rude.”
AB chuckled, unwrapped his utensils, and snapped the dinner napkin. “It’s A-okay.” Glaring at the male, AB smiled. “Accidents happen.”
Low sniffed and moved on.
“Are you sure?” Jaya asked. “I can get some club soda.”
“Oh Jaya, I fear that’s Vicuña.” The pity on Tracy’s face spoke of a man who understood AB’s pain. “Club soda would compromise the material. I hope it comes out in the dry cleaning.”
“I’m sure it will,” AB said in a delighted tone to shield broiling anger. “What do we—”
“You don’t want no sides?” Low nitpicked as he sat next to his not girlfriend. Who mind you, was an inch away from turning her steak into a pillow.
“No, I’ll take bread, that’s enough for me. Tracy, are you not hungry?”
“He’s vegan.”
AB winced at the unexpected, curve-ball response. What terrible vampire etiquette. “Is that right?”
“Yes,” Tracy said. “The environment is being attacked. And we will be here long after the human waste reaches their expiry date. If we don’t do something, we will be left with nothing.”
“What are we gonna do when they die?” Max asked, as it seemed she’d come to.
“That is too morbid a subject, Maxine.” Her father’s words were terse as he cut into a… tofu, cauliflower, bean… steak, thing. What the fuck did vegans eat? “Such discourse is not fit for a gathering of this nature. So, Jaxon, are you from Miami? Well, you know.”
“Uh, do you mind?” He pointed at a tempting bottle of Cabernet.
“Oh no, of course.”
AB gripped the neck, poured a decent drop, and loved how it’d been aired beforehand. Tracy was a man of class and culture.
“No. No, I am not from Florida. I moved here about eight years ago. I was born in Ireland, moved to London, and then to the States. I’ve been here siiiiince… seventeen-ninety-five.”
“Before its inception?”
“Yeah, my mother and I hopped a Spanish vessel and wound up in Cali. But she lives in London now.”
“Californiaaaaa?” Max sat amazed, and it offered AB more insight. Bet his left nut she’d never been out of state.
“Yes, it was a long time ago.” Slicing into a superb slab of beef, he changed topics quick as hell. “Tracy, you’ve been a busy bee.”
“Indeed, I’ve acquired a lot over my lifetime.”
With an immaculate sliver of beef on the fork, he shoved it between his lips, annnnnnd, heaven sent. Damn it, Low made a mean steak. Succulent, with a glorious char and rare. Rosemary, garlic, onion, cayenne, mesquite, applewood, not charcoal, and sweet cream butter.
“Although you ruined my vest, I must hand it to you. This is a phenomenal steak. It’s top tier.”
Low smiled lazily and lifted his glass. “I’m something like a chef.”
“He is,” Tracy agreed. “Maxine!”
Her head popped up. “Huh? I don’t like Neapolitan ice cream.”
AB chuckled at her… what did the kids call it? State of inebriation. Low thought it was funny, too, but he wasn’t doing any better.
“Are you tired?” Tracy prodded.
“Yeah, bruh.”
“Don’t bruuuuh me, young lady.”
She only laughed. “Steak! Yesss.”
“As I was saying, Tracy, you’ve dabbled in a fair share of real estate.”
He nodded but shrugged it off. “I have. I flip houses.”
Tracy was a liar.
“Ohhh, that explains it. Makes sense.” It did not. And AB had every intention of digging deeper, ‘til he got to the nasty, bitter core. Then he’d make Mr. Bissette an offer he’d dare not refuse. For now, AB would accept the fallacy and enjoy his fabulous meal.
In the end, he had two cuts while they sat outside and conversed. The weather, TV shows, and stupid shit people talked about. AB made certain not to speak on personal matters. He didn’t know them, and putting your business in the street had the capacity to bite you in the ass. So, he kept it nice and easy, even through the hummingbird cake and a bubbly dessert wine.
But as with all things, their fun came to an end. AB had had enough small talk for one night. “Wow, you all sure know how to party.”
“This wasn’t no party…” Max giggled and had a good five minutes left in her. The nodding worsened by the minute. “Oh, you’re an accountant. Meehhhh, boring personality, bruh.”
Tracy clapped his hands. “That’s enough from you, uh… Elliot, will you escort my daughter to her room? She is out of sorts.”
“My pleasure.”
AB bit down on a raunchy comment resting on his tongue.
“I really love your hair,” Max said, allowing Low to manhandle her.
“Thank you.”
“It’s like, blazing.”
“Elliot.”
“Yup.”
He hefted Max bride style and sprinted away.
“I do apologize for my—”
“Don’t do that, Tracy,” Jaya snipped. “I swear you want Max to hate you.”
This was a deep convo not suited for guests. Tracy’s head fell as he sighed. “I have enjoyed your company, Jaxon.”
“You as well.”
On his feet, AB grabbed both the Bottega and his jacket. “I am stuffed, and Jaya, the cake was divine.”
She blushed. “Thank you, but I didn’t make that. Max did, she’s a baker.”
His brows arched. “Oh, okay.” The woman had a way with flour and sugar. That confection was moist as fuck. “Please do tell her I loved it.”
“I will.”
AB left the pair on their own and showed himself out. Halfway to his car, he stopped to admire the Monte Carlo. A sweet, sexy thing she was. He liked how the engine purred, too.
Classy.
“You wanna test drive?” Low emerged from the shadows, like AB couldn’t see or sense another vampire’s presence. The tip of a blunt glowed briefly as he advanced. “I’ll let you ride it. Ride in it, I mean.”
“You’re terrible at come-ons.” AB sniffed and shrugged. “Who uses Swishers anymore?”
“I do, damn. I was outta woods. Stay out Black folks business. You look like the dispensary type. Legal trash. What you smoke? Bongs and vaporizers? Typical white boy shit.”
AB snarled. “You talk a lot.”
“I know. It’s part of my charm, bruh.”
“Your charm?” He scoffed and flicked a hand. “I’m this way. Have a good night.”
“Let me know if you want that test drive.” AB opened his car door while Low tact on bullshit. “Prolly can’t handle it, though.”
He stopped short of getting in and faced the verbose male.
“I’d advise you to ease up while you’re ahead.” AB zoned in on his ass and sneered. “This ain’t what you want, trust me.”
Low laughed, expelling a pillow of smoke and said, “Ain’t? Look at you, so cute. I ain’t trippin’, Red. You too tight in the ass for me anyway. I like my men pensive. But believe you me, I done made more than one alpha turn coy.” Low discarded the blunt and added, “I’ll be sure to tell Max you an accountant annnd pussy.”
Unbelievable. If the male hadn’t vanished, Jaxon would have yolked his ass up. Try to kill him, probably. “Ohhhhhh, my god. I need a drink.”

. I hope yall are ready for quite the ride going forward. READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS AND LEARN ‘EM. I’m not joking. Please take care if dark romance isn’t your thing; feel free to skip certain chapters. These don’t happen in the same chapter or the next, but they are coming, and quickly. Also, I don’t know why I said mild gore because nah, there is quite a bit. For me, it’s mild, but for others, it might be too much. As always, thank you so much for reading, I hope you have a wonderful week.

Chapter 22: This Life & The Next

“You can take it, darlin’.” Buck put his weight on Nieema, stealing her will to breathe. “Yeeeeah. That’s it. You like it heavy!” Buck growled as the missus moaned.
“I dooooo. Ohh—Bu—uck! There, baby. Right theeerrre.”
He focused on her sweet spot and she whimpered as bones popped.
“Yes,” Nieema groaned. “Crack my shit, baby. Stomp on that bitch! I said harder, old man.”
“I’m doing it.”
“You ain’t.”
Buck rolled his eyes and stepped on her spine. She hollered in pleasure. “A vampire your age shouldn’t have back problems or any physical ailments at all. Them babies fucked you up, darlin’.”
“Yeah! And who put them, babies in there?”
An ugly belly laugh bubbled up from Buck’s gut as he stamped on his wife’s back.
Buck spent twenty minutes, once a week stepping on Nieema’s spine. Most vampires who conceived had some small physical issue. Pregnancy was hard even on immortal folk and orcs alike.
“And I’ll do it again,” Buck vowed.
“I know that’s right,” Nieema said, hands tucked under her chin. “Fill me up, daddy!”
“Nasty mouth.”
They laughed as Buck continued his business of jumping on her. She was a sturdy gal and loved about three or four hops. When something popped, she moaned once more.
“Darlin’,” Buck started, pressing the ball of his foot into her shoulder, “you heard from Jasper yet?”
“Uhhhm. No.”
“She ain’t come out the house yet, and I’m getting worried.”
“Buckley, we don’t know her well. Maybe she’s a homebody.”
“I mean, yeah, but after the other night she disappeared.”
“Hm. Weirrrd.”
Buck paused and squinted. Her response was short and squeaky.
“Nieema Desiree Falerie Sunside, what did you do?”
“Why do I gotta do something?”
“‘Cause you did.”
“You don’t know shit.”
She didn’t even look up at him. The betrayal. Buck cussed, lowering to the floor. He joined Nieema and lay on her body. She was more comfortable than hardwood. Though his wood was now pressed into her dimpled ass. Buck ignored the tempting juggle and cushion for the moment.
“Nieema.”
The woman smacked her teeth and said, “We were having such a good time, and I figured—she was into it and me. Jasper was interested, earnest, and assertive. She gave proper consent and everything.”
“You did not.”
“Shit, she was quick putting a hand down my pants, and I wanted to taste her. So, you know, naturally, we ended up downstairs. After our climax, she vanished. I think I spooked her.”
Buck knew it had something to do with sex. Nieema was an intense, impulsive vampire with a high sex drive. He’d been dealing with her pangs for a hundred years. They had their ways and proclivities as a couple, but Buck didn’t always think with his dick.
True, he wanted to make it flex with Jasper. Cut the demon down for about an hour or so, but he had a feeling she wasn’t ready.
“Nieema, baby. Why you have to go and do that?” Buck rolled off of his wife and eyed her. The woman knew better than to meet his stare and didn’t. “She was celibate. You heard her just fine.”
“Yes, but you weren’t there. Jasper was about to take lead on the matter. I had to calm her down, shit. That’s not how this show go. Not yet, at least. That woman was on fire. Just sick about it, baby.”
He stood and marched on over to Nieema’s vanity. He snagged the scissors, pulled the chair, and short whistled. She rose with vampire agility, defying gravity as if it didn’t exist. After sprinting over, she sidled up, and sat down.
Buck snagged a twenty-four-inch braid and snipped the end. With practiced ease, he unraveled and loosened the thick strand.
“I know how you feel about wanting to bed her down, but I think, you jumped it.” He discarded the hair into the plastic bag that waited in Nieema’s lap while she mumbled curses. The old woman knew she was wrong, so he didn’t have to say it. “Sweetpea, Jasper moved out here to get away from drama.”
“And we ain’t bringing none to her.”
“Maybe to you this ain’t drama, but for her, it could be a lot.”
“I thought you were in a hurry, Buckley. You the one making bets and shit.”
“That was for a nice dinner, not no thick dick!”
“Well, that’s what I thought.”
“Of course you did, freaky.”
Nieema chuckled, clipping the ends of a braid. They used the next ten minutes to take down her hair with normal chit chat about the family. Norma was on her way, Mace was in marriage troubles, and Trey had another baby on the way with his ex-wife. That was some mess for your ass, but that was his life. Couldn’t tell him or them anything.
Buck tried to steer their babies and grand babies right, but after a certain age, there wasn‘t no changing their minds.
“Jo tell you Trevor wants to press charges?” Buck asked, raising a brow.
“I know he does.”
“That was a love tap! Pussy.”
“I doubt it.”
“Who side is you on?” Buck asked, checking the wife’s reflection, making her giggle. “Mhm. See what I get? Disrespect.”
“That man got what’s coming to him,” Nieema said, pulling free another blue strip of hair. “Monroe is in Misthill now. He can’t seem to get an appointment with the Mayor. He’s indisposed. I sent him a summons.”
“Mm. Had to put on the crown, huh?”
“Unfortunately.”
“At least you look good wearing it.” She smiled, and Buck kissed her thick, natural mane. “I’m sure we’ll get this settled nice and easy.”
“The Voaremonts aren’t known for rolling over, Buck.”
“We ain’t either.”
“I know that’s right.”
After cutting a few more ends, he loosened braids as Nieema breached the Jasper subject yet again.
“I gave her a job at the shop.”
“I mean, we need the help, but do you think she’ll be okay? I still don’t wanna let her outta my sight.”
“I told Maggie about it,” Nieema reassured. “She’s willing to charm the store.”
“That’s quick thinking, my love. On your toes!”
“Aren’t I always?”
Buck barked in laughter and trashed his last batch of hair. “Hell nah.”
“I know you better hush.”
“What? I’m supposed to lie? You said there ain’t to be no lies or secrets between us. I will hold to the vow we made allllll them manymanymany years ago. I know you probably don’t remember. Senile self. We gotta get you to bed, it’s late, Grandma!”
“Shhuuut uuuup.” She cackled right along with Buck. “And it’s you who gon’ put me to bed.”
“Damn skippy!”
As always, Nieema and Buck found solace in each other. There wasn’t a quiet, dull moment between them. After decades, ten and some change, they’d become the best of friends. Marrying the person who made him laugh was the best decision of his life.
The night they’d met, he’d made her chuckle and vice versa. Within hours, Buck had become enamored with some Ravensguard soldier he was likely to never see again.
After a passionate day in bed, Buck had said goodbye. He promised to find her someday.
Turns out he didn’t have to look hard, because ten years later, Nieema showed up at the tavern wearing his favorite smile.
“Ooooooo baaaaby, listen!” Nieema relaxed as Buck scratched her scalp. He focused on the middle of her head and the kitchen, just how Mrs. Sunside liked it. “You know how to use them hands… mmmm, yes you do. Little to the left, litt—ooop!”
Buck cackled and carried on with their routine, which led to the bathroom. These times, the few they shared with such busy lives and a large family, he cherished. They were his priority. Taking care of his dame wasn’t always top of mind. Buck regretted them days, when he didn’t put Nieema first. She belonged on the pedestal he’d built only for her.
After washing, rinsing, and stripping down to nothing, he covered Nieema’s conditioner-soaked tresses with an extra-large shower cap.
“Thereeee you go.” Buck popped the elastic, and Nieema flinched. “Now come here and get what’s coming to ya.”
She giggled as Buck plucked her plush behind off the tile and carried her right on into the shower stall.
Steam laced with lavender and chamomile soothed the mind while Nieema’s lips roused every nerve.
Scolding hot water pelted his back and cascaded, dripping from his tight braid. With little finesse and impatience, Buck set his woman on a stone bench and loomed.
“Well,” Nieema prompted, “go on and satisfy your vicious sweet tooth.”
Her crimson stare provoked several emotions. Buck had never been one to beg or snivel for pussy. That was until he’d met Nieema. He’d snuff the sun if it’d bring this woman peace. He’d vanquish all evil and become the worst version of himself if it pleased his queen.
Nieema spread her delicious thighs and blessed him. Plump and glistening, her southern lips beckoned a motha fucka. She wept for a kiss, and he’d never deny Nieema a thing in this world.
Buck’s knees gave as he was enchanted by velvety brown softness and glittering blush pink. Nieema presented herself and dipped a finger between what he knew to be sopping wet walls.
Buck growled and bristled, snatching her hand away.
“Hands off my goods, old woman.”
She laughed and undulated, cupping her buxom bosom. Nieema’s scent drew him closer.
Buck kissed her flesh, and she hissed. He sniffed and grunted, growling as the beast within longed to devour.
Her wetness coated his lips as he circled her large clit with his nose. His wife was insecure about her precious rosebud. For a time, she hated how it protruded and swelled with her arousal. It took time, care, and reassurance.
Buck loved to suck and tease her large clit.
“Mmmm,” Nieema moaned with every kiss and nuzzle. “Babbbee, pleaaase.”
“You so fuckin’ wet, woman.” Buck clutched his dick and flicked her with the tip of his pierced tongue. “I need another batch for my tea. I’m almost out.”
“You know what you gotta do.”
He responded by suckling her button and mashing his god damn face into her pussy. Buck worked her clit. Around and around while Nieema rocked slowly. She sang his favorite melody and melted with every lazy lave and lap. He sipped from her with gladness and appreciation.
Buck swallowed her rich decadence and vowed once again to be her last devotee. If there was no one left to bow, he’d be the queen’s final hand to bend the knee. If there were none to adore her, he’d be there to shower her in affection. He’d be the last to obey the Ravensguard queen. His final breath would be that of dedication! Of his love, in this life and the next. Until the goddess called him to the Soil of Soul Buck promised to stand tall at Nieema’s side.
Mating be damneed. In truth, he didn’t need it. His lifeblood was hers the second they spoke.
“Oooo shit!” Nieema keened. “You like how I taste, love?”
He responded by gripping her hips. Buck yanked Nieema forward and gorged on his favorite meal of the night until she thrashed, on the cusp.
It was in the tremble of her words and curl of her chubby toes.
Buck studied her body, inside and out. Her arch stiffened and lip curled.
Buck stopped, and Nieema roared. Panting, she pulled his braid and cursed.
“You had better have a good reason, fairy boy!”
He only laughed and stood, taking her with him. Leaving her no room to complain, Buck hoisted Nieema high and flipped her ass.
Nieema cackled as she dangled upside down. This woman loved her some vertical sixty-nine, and once she got to sucking, so did Buck. With her pussy at home on his tongue and thighs framing his face, he lapped with fierce edge.
Nieema’s nectar turned a decent fae feral. As her soul mate, fated, and begging fool, he dove headfirst. And his queen was no slouch, taking him deep.
Buck stumbled and leaned against wet tile, locking himself in place. He lashed at her clit and drank from her blessed fount.
Nieema coughed and cussed. “Ooooo shit! Bite it, baby! Bite—“
Buck tensed as she swallowed him down from root to stem. There was nothing left to do but deep throat.
He came up for air and shouted to the Goddess. His eyes rolled as Nieema sucked him down and continued, nuts and all. Her jaw unhinged, and she devoured.
Claimed and choked.
“Youuuuu devilish slut!” Buck roared. He growled, thrusts meeting her sinful rhythm.
“I’mmmm—ooweeeee…” Needing to shatter and release, Buck screwed his eyes shut and penetrated her with his thickening tongue. The pierced muscle caused her majesty to squirm and writhe, body slick and plush.
Buck tightened his hold and fucked his beloved in quickened fashion. He curled the tip and twirled, twisted, tasted.
She moaned and bobbed, using that neck for the greater good. Sweat and water collected between them, dripping from toes and nipples.
Nieema clung to him, scoring his thighs. Buck grunted and lavished her with his love. Nieema pumped and rolled as he punched. Their shared desire and passion coalesced and seeped through bone.
It pooled in the marrow and heated, setting his soul to a rolling boil.
Buck clutched her ass and drove his tongue deeper. He was set to tear this woman apart until she bit down and let him loose. His spine steeled, and thighs burned with the effort to remain standing.
His fight and refusal to fold were futile. Nieema pulled an orgasm from the body, leaving him for dead. Euphoria sprouted from every cell and limb, enveloping him completely. She wrenched it from the root, and he attacked her gushing pussy without delay.
The woman howled as Buck lost the use of his legs. They’d turned to moss and were unable to bear his weight. Before his ass collided with the floor, Nieema belted his name and flexed them vampire skills by righting herself in half a second.
When his behind greeted wet tile, Buck laughed, allowing his queen to straddle.
“You ain’t tired?!” Nieema kissed his neck and cupped his stiffening dick. “Damn woman, you gon’ put me in the coffin one day.”
“And I will be right there with you, old dog.”
They shared a bout of laughter and reconnected. No matter the time, day, or year, there’d never come a moment when Buck Sunside would ever get enough. She was the mother of his children, the beat of his heart, and the rich soil nourishing his soul. .

“You can take it, darlin’.” Buck put his weight on Nieema, stealing her will to breathe. “Yeeeeah. That’s it. You like it heavy!” Buck growled as the missus moaned.
“I dooooo. Ohh—Bu—uck! There, baby. Right theeerrre.”
He focused on her sweet spot and she whimpered as bones popped.
“Yes,” Nieema groaned. “Crack my shit, baby. Stomp on that bitch! I said harder, old man.”
“I’m doing it.”
“You ain’t.”
Buck rolled his eyes and stepped on her spine. She hollered in pleasure. “A vampire your age shouldn’t have back problems or any physical ailments at all. Them babies fucked you up, darlin’.”
“Yeah! And who put them, babies in there?”
An ugly belly laugh bubbled up from Buck’s gut as he stamped on his wife’s back.
Buck spent twenty minutes, once a week stepping on Nieema’s spine. Most vampires who conceived had some small physical issue. Pregnancy was hard even on immortal folk and orcs alike.
“And I’ll do it again,” Buck vowed.
“I know that’s right,” Nieema said, hands tucked under her chin. “Fill me up, daddy!”
“Nasty mouth.”
They laughed as Buck continued his business of jumping on her. She was a sturdy gal and loved about three or four hops. When something popped, she moaned once more.
“Darlin,” Buck started, pressing the ball of his foot into her shoulder, “you heard from Jasper yet?”
“Uhhhm. No.”
“She ain’t come out the house yet, and I’m getting worried.”
“Buckley, we don’t know her well. Maybe she’s a homebody.”
“I mean, yeah, but after the other night she disappeared.”
“Hm. Weirrrd.”
Buck paused and squinted. Her response was short and squeaky.
“Nieema Desiree Falerie Sunside, what did you do?”
“Why do I gotta do something?”
“‘Cause you did.”
“You don’t know shit.”
She didn’t even look up at him. The betrayal. Buck cussed, lowering to the floor. He joined Nieema and lay on her body. She was more comfortable than hardwood. Though his wood was now pressed into her dimpled ass. Buck ignored the tempting juggle and cushion for the moment.
“Nieema.”
The woman smacked her teeth and said, “We were having such a good time, and I figured—she was into it and me. Jasper was interested, earnest, and assertive. She gave proper consent and everything.”
“You did not.”
“Shit, she was quick putting a hand down my pants, and I wanted to taste her. So, you know, naturally, we ended up downstairs. After our climax, she vanished. I think I spooked her.”
Buck knew it had something to do with sex. Nieema was an intense, impulsive vampire with a high sex drive. He’d been dealing with her pangs for a hundred years. They had their ways and proclivities as a couple, but Buck didn’t always think with his dick.
True, he wanted to make it flex with Jasper. Cut the demon down for about an hour or so, but he had a feeling she wasn’t ready.
“Nieema, baby. Why you have to go and do that?” Buck rolled off of his wife and eyed her. The woman knew better than to meet his stare and didn’t. “She was celibate. You heard her just fine.”
“Yes, but you weren’t there. Jasper was about to take lead on the matter. I had to calm her down, shit. That’s not how this show go. Not yet, at least. That woman was on fire. Just sick about it, baby.”
He stood and marched on over to Nieema’s vanity. He snagged the scissors, pulled the chair, and short whistled. She rose with vampire agility, defying gravity as if it didn’t exist. After sprinting over, she sidled up, and sat down.
Buck snagged a twenty-four-inch braid and snipped the end. With practiced ease, he unraveled and loosened the thick strand.
“I know how you feel about wanting to bed her down, but I think, you jumped it.” He discarded the hair into the plastic bag that waited in Nieema’s lap while she mumbled curses. The old woman knew she was wrong, so he didn’t have to say it. “Sweetpea, Jasper moved out here to get away from drama.”
“And we ain’t bringing none to her.”
“Maybe to you this ain’t drama, but for her, it could be a lot.”
“I thought you were in a hurry, Buckley. You the one making bets and shit.”
“That was for a nice dinner, not no thick dick!”
“Well, that’s what I thought.”
“Of course you did, freaky.”
Nieema chuckled, clipping the ends of a braid. They used the next ten minutes to take down her hair with normal chit chat about the family. Norma was on her way, Mace was in marriage troubles, and Trey had another baby on the way with his ex-wife. That was some mess for your ass, but that was his life. Couldn’t tell him or them anything.
Buck tried to steer their babies and grand babies right, but after a certain age, there wasn‘t no changing their minds.
“Jo tell you Trevor wants to press charges?” Buck asked, raising a brow.
“I know he does.”
“That was a love tap! Pussy.”
“I doubt it.”
“Who side is you on?” Buck asked, checking the wife’s reflection, making her giggle. “Mhm. See what I get? Disrespect.”
“That man got what’s coming to him,” Nieema said, pulling free another blue strip of hair. “Monroe is in Misthill now. He can’t seem to get an appointment with the Mayor. He’s indisposed. I sent him a summons.”
“Mm. Had to put on the crown, huh?”
“Unfortunately.”
“At least you look good wearing it.” She smiled, and Buck kissed her thick, natural mane. “I’m sure we’ll get this settled nice and easy.”
“The Voaremonts aren’t known for rolling over, Buck.”
“We ain’t either.”
“I know that’s right.”
After cutting a few more ends, he loosened braids as Nieema breached the Jasper subject yet again.
“I gave her a job at the shop.”
“I mean, we need the help, but do you think she’ll be okay? I still don’t wanna let her outta my sight.”
“I told Maggie about it,” Nieema reassured. “She’s willing to charm the store.”
“That’s quick thinking, my love. On your toes!”
“Aren’t I always?”
Buck barked in laughter and trashed his last batch of hair. “Hell nah.”
“I know you better hush.”
“What? I’m supposed to lie? You said there ain’t to be no lies or secrets between us. I will hold to the vow we made allllll them manymanymany years ago. I know you probably don’t remember. Senile self. We gotta get you to bed, it’s late, Grandma!”
“Shhuuut uuuup.” She cackled right along with Buck. “And it’s you who gon’ put me to bed.”
“Damn skippy!”
As always, Nieema and Buck found solace in each other. There wasn’t a quiet, dull moment between them. After decades, ten and some change, they’d become the best of friends. Marrying the person who made him laugh was the best decision of his life.
The night they’d met, he’d made her chuckle and vice versa. Within hours, Buck had become enamored with some Ravensguard soldier he was likely to never see again.
After a passionate day in bed, Buck had said goodbye. He promised to find her someday.
Turns out he didn’t have to look hard, because ten years later, Nieema showed up at the tavern wearing his favorite smile.
“Ooooooo baaaaby, listen!” Nieema relaxed as Buck scratched her scalp. He focused on the middle of her head and the kitchen, just how Mrs. Sunside liked it. “You know how to use them hands… mmmm, yes you do. Little to the left, litt—ooop!”
Buck cackled and carried on with their routine, which led to the bathroom. These times, the few they shared with such busy lives and a large family, he cherished. They were his priority. Taking care of his dame wasn’t always top of mind. Buck regretted them days, when he didn’t put Nieema first. She belonged on the pedestal he’d built only for her.
After washing, rinsing, and stripping down to nothing, he covered Nieema’s conditioner-soaked tresses with an extra-large shower cap.
“Thereeee you go.” Buck popped the elastic, and Nieema flinched. “Now come here and get what’s coming to ya.”
She giggled as Buck plucked her plush behind off the tile and carried her right on into the shower stall.
Steam laced with lavender and chamomile soothed the mind while Nieema’s lips roused every nerve.
Scolding hot water pelted his back and cascaded, dripping from his tight braid. With little finesse and impatience, Buck set his woman on a stone bench and loomed.
“Well,” Nieema prompted, “go on and satisfy your vicious sweet tooth.”
Her crimson stare provoked several emotions. Buck had never been one to beg or snivel for pussy. That was until he’d met Nieema. He’d snuff the sun if it’d bring this woman peace. He’d vanquish all evil and become the worst version of himself if it pleased his queen.
Nieema spread her delicious thighs and blessed him. Plump and glistening, her southern lips beckoned a motha fucka. She wept for a kiss, and he’d never deny Nieema a thing in this world.
Buck’s knees gave as he was enchanted by velvety brown softness and glittering blush pink. Nieema presented herself and dipped a finger between what he knew to be sopping wet walls.
Buck growled and bristled, snatching her hand away.
“Hands off my goods, old woman.”
She laughed and undulated, cupping her buxom bosom. Nieema’s scent drew him closer.
Buck kissed her flesh, and she hissed. He sniffed and grunted, growling as the beast within longed to devour.
Her wetness coated his lips as he circled her large clit with his nose. His wife was insecure about her precious rosebud. For a time, she hated how it protruded and swelled with her arousal. It took time, care, and reassurance.
Buck loved to suck and tease her large clit.
“Mmmm,” Nieema moaned with every kiss and nuzzle. “Babbbee, pleaaase.”
“You so fuckin’ wet, woman.” Buck clutched his dick and flicked her with the tip of his pierced tongue. “I need another batch for my tea. I’m almost out.”
“You know what you gotta do.”
He responded by suckling her button and mashing his god damn face into her pussy. Buck worked her clit. Around and around while Nieema rocked slowly. She sang his favorite melody and melted with every lazy lave and lap. He sipped from her with gladness and appreciation.
Buck swallowed her rich decadence and vowed once again to be her last devotee. If there was no one left to bow, he’d be the queen’s final hand to bend the knee. If there were none to adore her, he’d be there to shower her in affection. He’d be the last to obey the Ravensguard queen. His final breath would be that of dedication! Of his love, in this life and the next. Until the goddess called him to the Soil of Soul Buck promised to stand tall at Nieema’s side.
Mating be damneed. In truth, he didn’t need it. His lifeblood was hers the second they spoke.
“Oooo shit!” Nieema keened. “You like how I taste, love?”
He responded by gripping her hips. Buck yanked Nieema forward and gorged on his favorite meal of the night until she thrashed, on the cusp.
It was in the tremble of her words and curl of her chubby toes.
Buck studied her body, inside and out. Her arch stiffened and lip curled.
Buck stopped, and Nieema roared. Panting, she pulled his braid and cursed.
“You had better have a good reason, fairy boy!”
He only laughed and stood, taking her with him. Leaving her no room to complain, Buck hoisted Nieema high and flipped her ass.
Nieema cackled as she dangled upside down. This woman loved her some vertical sixty-nine, and once she got to sucking, so did Buck. With her pussy at home on his tongue and thighs framing his face, he lapped with fierce edge.
Nieema’s nectar turned a decent fae feral. As her soul mate, fated, and begging fool, he dove headfirst. And his queen was no slouch, taking him deep.
Buck stumbled and leaned against wet tile, locking himself in place. He lashed at her clit and drank from her blessed fount.
Nieema coughed and cussed. “Ooooo shit! Bite it, baby! Bite—“
Buck tensed as she swallowed him down from root to stem. There was nothing left to do but deep throat.
He came up for air and shouted to the Goddess. His eyes rolled as Nieema sucked him down and continued, nuts and all. Her jaw unhinged, and she devoured.
Claimed and choked.
“Youuuuu devilish slut!” Buck roared. He growled, thrusts meeting her sinful rhythm.
“I’mmmm—ooweeeee…” Needing to shatter and release, Buck screwed his eyes shut and penetrated her with his thickening tongue. The pierced muscle caused her majesty to squirm and writhe, body slick and plush.
Buck tightened his hold and fucked his beloved in quickened fashion. He curled the tip and twirled, twisted, tasted.
She moaned and bobbed, using that neck for the greater good. Sweat and water collected between them, dripping from toes and nipples.
Nieema clung to him, scoring his thighs. Buck grunted and lavished her with his love. Nieema pumped and rolled as he punched. Their shared desire and passion coalesced and seeped through bone.
It pooled in the marrow and heated, setting his soul to a rolling boil.
Buck clutched her ass and drove his tongue deeper. He was set to tear this woman apart until she bit down and let him loose. His spine steeled, and thighs burned with the effort to remain standing.
His fight and refusal to fold were futile. Nieema pulled an orgasm from the body, leaving him for dead. Euphoria sprouted from every cell and limb, enveloping him completely. She wrenched it from the root, and he attacked her gushing pussy without delay.
The woman howled as Buck lost the use of his legs. They’d turned to moss and were unable to bear his weight. Before his ass collided with the floor, Nieema belted his name and flexed them vampire skills by righting herself in half a second.
When his behind greeted wet tile, Buck laughed, allowing his queen to straddle.
“You ain’t tired?!” Nieema kissed his neck and cupped his stiffening dick. “Damn woman, you gon’ put me in the coffin one day.”
“And I will be right there with you, old dog.”
They shared a bout of laughter and reconnected. No matter the time, day, or year, there’d never come a moment when Buck Sunside would ever get enough. She was the mother of his children, the beat of his heart, and the rich soil nourishing his soul.

Chapter 12: Her Majesty

Pouring a fresh batch of clove-spiced blood into her coffee, Nieema frowned at the text message. She sucked her teeth and grumbled. It was too early for this shit. Too early to be this pissed. Domestic violence and attempted murder? Demon hunting? In Ravensguard?
“Oooo bitch,” Nieema mumbled, stirring her energy booster. “Somebody will get it for this one.”
“Grandma,” Mace called, the time telling on him. “Gma?”
“Mmm?”
Nieema leaned against the counter and lifted the heated mug to her lips. She paid her gbaby no mind and read another text from Buck. It wasn’t helping her one bit. How the hell had this happened? A Voaremont boy was Jasper’s abusive ex.
“Yes, honey?”
“Why did you call my husband?”.
“Well—”
“You and Mama need to mind yours.”
Nieema scoffed and snatched him right on up with one look. Mace knew damn well not to go there with her. “You might wanna check that tone, sir.”
“I’m sorry, Grandma.”
“Mhm. Listen, I only called to see how he was doing. In case you’ve forgotten, I used to change his diapers. His mother is my best friend. I can see about whoever I like. I can call and text a boy I’ve known for over fifty years. And it just so happens, he’s having marriage troubles.”
Mace smacked his teeth and grabbed a pear from the fruit bowl. “You use that as an excuse to go snooping.”
Nieema considered her grandchild, sipping hot blood and cafe mocha.
“Baby, what are y’all gonna do? ‘Cause Patrick is saying this might be it, and he wouldn’t go into why.”
Mace crunched on his fruit and turned away. He stared out the window and shrugged.
“For years, we talked about kids. He wanted them, and you know I do. After fifteen years, I’m read,y and he’s not. Says he has a few more trips in him and I just…”
Time meant nothing to a vampire. Nieema didn’t even think about it most nights. No point. Perhaps without obligations and a large family, she would. Immortality was a gift. She wasn’t the brooding sort. There wasn’t enough humanity left within for that. But when she saw time pass in the eyes of her grandchildren, immortality seemed cruel. Mace was their first grandchild and more orc than vampire. With his mother only being half, that three percent wasn’t enough. The gray at his temples and increasing laugh lines scared her. She’d already lost two grandchildren; Mace would make three. Orcs didn’t live forever.
His father was a chieftain and met their daughter later in life.
Mace had a right to want children as he was on a time frame.
“Oh, honey. I know this is rough. And I know it’s not where y’all wanna be.”
Mace shook his head and dumped the core in the trash. He tucked his hands into his pockets and said, “He’s being dramatic, per usual. I didn’t say nothing about divorce. I’m just tired. I want to find a surrogate and start our family.”
Nieema put her coffee down and rushed to hug her baby. Mace enveloped her in his stocky arms and squeezed.
“Aww, it’s okay, love. It’s gonna be alright. I know these things. I feel them. Stay positive.”
“I’m trying, Grandma. But, God. Marriage is hard.”
“Shit, who you telling?”
She stepped back and slapped his shoulder. “Let me make you some food.”
“Nah, I’m good. I’m trying to lose so—”
“Please! I don’t wanna hear that shit! You got orc blood. There is no losing weight, my boy! Now, sit your ass on down. Don’t make me tell ya twice.”
Mace kissed her head and rolled his eyes into the family room.
“Okayyy, a lil somthin.”
Happy to cook and make her baby smile, she put together a staple. Country fried steak, over easy eggs, and grits, no sugar cause Mace uppity like that. Forty-five minutes later, she slid the big man his plate. He sure didn’t refuse and ate every last bite.
Nieema was okay with a mug of blood and cubes of raw meat. As her stress level ascended, her desire for solids dwindled.
On the way to her office, she heard the door and laughter.
Buck and Jasper entered the house gossiping like elder queens. It was pleasant and welcome after the news from earlier.
At six-hundred years young, Nieema was an old hag and nosy like one too. She wanted to know what made Jasper loosen up around Buckley. The man and his wiles might have won the sultry demoness over.
With curiosity driving her, Nieema jogged back downstairs and sashayed into the kitchen, where Jasper and Mace spoke.
“It’s a pleasure, Jasper. I hope my grandparents been treating you nice.”
The succubus was a sight in all them pastels. Shades of purple complemented her red complexion.
“They’re okay, not too bad.” Jasper waved. “Hello.”
Nieema lifted her chin and eyes after winking at the fine woman. “What have you been up to, Mista?”
Buck snickered, chewed his cinnamon gum, and sauntered toward the icebox. “Despite what went down, we got allat paperwork out the way.”
“Thank god!”
Jasper stepped up, and Nieema smirked as the succubus caressed a single braid. If this were any other night, with anyone else, she’d bite them for touching her hair, but she was soft on this one. Nieema wanted Jasper close enough to touch, to scent, to hold.
Finding out Jasper had been abused set Nieema off. Her irritation reached peak and the sun had just set.
“Jasper, how would you like to come with me tonight?”
She released the blue strand and looked at Buck.
“Well, we were going to Maggie’s.”
“Maggie’s?” Nieema inquired and retrieved her keys from the bowl on the counter. “For what?”
“She wanna learn magic,” Buck said, cheek packed with homemade brownies.
“Is that so?”
Jasper looked too god damn cute in her skirt and colorful scarf. Nieema wished to wrestle her out of that there fancy top and dine for hours. She smelled of caramel and cocoa. Something decadent and bad for your teeth. A forbidden treat to eat in private with drapes drawn and phones on DND.
“Uhm…” Jasper twirled and faced the man stuffing his face. “Can we see Maggie later?”
“Whenever you ready. Imma go to the shop, fill in for the night, and see about it.”
Buck smiled, all nice like, but Nieema knew better. She knew her man. He was up to no good and after his text, the glint in his stare wasn’t a surprise.
Sighing, Nieema made way for her husband and gripped his chin. “Don’t make me come looking for you. Be careful and don’t spill blood. Do you hear me?”
“I ain’t got time for none of that.“
“Buckley?!”
Nieema forced eye contact, and he cackled. “I won’t.”
“Where are you going?” Jasper asked.
Mace muttered in passing, “To cause trouble.”
“I ain’t!”
“You are,” Nieema said. “Which is fine. But don’t kick up too much dust, old man.”
“I won’t.“
She twisted the length of his braid around her fist and yanked his ass down to her level. Nieema demanded a kiss and was given her due. Buck devoured her just as he had the fudge brownie. Chocolate and fruit coated his tongue. Tea leaves, sun-ripened strawberries, and delicate lavender petals.
Buck growled with one hand on her ass. Nieema purred and pushed him off.
“You can’t even get it up,” Nieema hissed.
“That ain’t my fault! It’s the tea!”
“Hm.” Running a hand down her tie, Nieema glanced at Jasper. Her slack jaw and wide eyes painted a pretty picture. “Let’s go, girl. He’s such a tease.”
“I told you, it—“
“The ‘tea’, I heard you love.”
Buck giggled, biting into a second brownie. “Don’t make me pin ya lil’ ass to the ceiling, now.”
“If only!”
Nieema started for the patio doors and threw them open with her supernatural mental abilities. She marched out into a humid night and groaned.
In a mood, thanks to current events, she snarled at a sticky, wet heat. Maybe a power suit wasn’t the best idea, but she was on a mission at the moment.
“Jasper?!”
“Coming.” Jasper arrived seconds later and slowed. “Where are we going?”
“To see my brother.”
“For what exactly?“ Jasper prodded.
“We need to talk with the governor of Misthill, and before I, speak with them. My brother sets the table, so to speak.”
“What do you have to discuss?“
“Buck told me what happened, Jasper.”
She stopped dead, and Nieema halted. The succubus glowed beneath the waxing moon. Gold undertones set her skin on fire, but it was the dimming flame in her eyes that gave Nieema pause.
“Nieema, I let it go. I don’t want to make this an issue. I went to therapy, and I’m done with it. I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I need to move on. This isn’t a big deal, and it’s not your problem.”
“Surely, Buck done told you who I am.”
“He did.”
“Well, then, I’ll have you know this is my problem. You are a citizen of Ravensguard, which makes you my, responsibility. I don’t take demon hunting or any other hunting, for that matter, lightly. If this is anyone’s problem, it is mine. Even if a god had hurt you, I still would have flayed them.”
Jasper scowled, shaking her head. “Why would—you and Buck don’t even know me.“
“I can’t say, for sure.” Nieema shrugged, having no final response as yet. “Alls I know is I like you. You sweet. Plus, you started a brush fire in my chest, and I don’t know how to contain it. What is it about you? I don’t know. But what I do, know is that hunting is against the law, my, law. This will bear dire consequences for anyone, even Trevor Voaremont.”