“Tasquer tits!” Kit tossed the vibrating rock into the top drawer and slammed it shut. “Only for a bit longer.”
“It was you!” Julep shouted.
Satchel in hand, Kit rolled his eyes. “What have I done this time?”
“You’re a blithering, loose-lipped fool. Telling him about my fears of baled cotton! How daaaaare you! We’re brothers!”
Kit knew well what he’d done, but it was for Julep’s own good. Checking his reflection, Kit tugged on his sweater vest and snapped cuffs. The demonic feline leaped and settled upon the chest of drawers. He hissed and swiped at Kit, claws at the ready.
“I had to do something; those hens would’ve eaten you alive.” Kit slid his journal into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He ignored the racket in the drawer and headed for the door. “Look at yourself, old friend. You’re a complete mess! They’ve taken a bit of your ear, and your tail is bandaged. You’ve also been nicked on your nose. Something needed to be done. You’re stubborn and reckless. I have to watch out for you. I’m sure without me, you’d have been murdered by now.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“You most certainly can not.”
“Yes, I can!”
Kit scoffed and nearly flattened Jasper on his way out. He side-stepped and hurried across the porch.
“Shit, man. Watch it.”
“I do apologize, but I’m late. Leftovers are in the fridge, and I made banana bread with extra cinnamon.
Save me some!”
Julep scurried off and yowled in passing. He cursed and called Kit everything except a child of the Undergods.
“Mangy feline!” He watched his best friend enter a copse of trees. The dark, horrifying thicket was no place for him. There was so much about this world he didn’t understand, and he was terrified of being mauled by a lion. Grunting, he marched onward, towards the main house. During his journey, he observed the surrounding fauna. Chickens, sheep, and arranged, tiny bipeds with horns. They were adorable freaks Kit wanted to stuff in his pocket. They were burrowing species, diving into the earth as he approached a rather large hole.
The chattering, furry creatures scurried as Kit sought a better look. He crouched before their burrow and thought to grab his phone. He examined the small mound of dirt and verdure.
He eyed a decent stick and reached for it.
“I wouldn’t.”
The voice grated, through roused sensations, Kit would rather not address. Hank’s scent confounded him to some degree. It was equal parts floral and fresh. A fragrance you’d might find on a delicate flower, not a man built for labor.
“Why not?” Kit asked, peering into the hole. Glittering blue eyes focused upon him. “They’re cute and—“
“Love dragging dead bodies into their den.”
Kit reeled and snapped upward. He backed away and glanced at the little peeking critter.
“My word, does everything want to kill me out here?”
“You in Ravensguard, son.”
“I am not your son.” Kit whirled about and considered the vampire. His height and width was of not matter. “I’d advise you to remember my namesake and use it. You may call me General Raze or Kit. I prefer the latter. But you are never to refer to me as boy, son, or sport. I am three hundred years old and haven’t been a child for many cycles. Do not insult me for a third time.”
His red gaze sparked beneath an illuminated sky. The balls of gas were a phenomenon he wanted to explore. Kit admired the stars each night. He longed to know more about them and Hank. Despite his cragginess, Kit was intrigued and utterly perplexed by the blood drinker.
Hank scoffed. “You got more than a chip on your shoulder, bruh.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Have you come to pester me? Because you have done that and some.”
“I save your hide and this the reception I get?”
Kit pursed his lips, nose to the glimmering moon. “You have my gratitude.”
“Hm.” The man sniffed, hands on his hips. The pose was striking and defiant. Kit wasn’t certain on how to respond as Hank nodded and said, “The cotton ball trick worked. I was coming to thank you for it.”
“Of course it worked. If we’re talking defensive strategies, I am never wrong.”
“You’re welcome,e would do fine.”
Kit canted his head. “Pardon?”
“You gotta work on them people skills.”
“People what?”
“Shit.”
Have waved a hand and made off. “Peculiar,” Kit whispered, watching him stroll across the pasture. His feet were uncovered, which was uncommon for land dwellers.
They wore coverings at all times, except indoors. Kit plated his hooves, but never removed them. No point. Hank and his bare feet made Kit smile. “Weird indeed.”
“Whatchu looking at?”
“Your…well, what is Hank to you?” Kit asked, pivoting to meet Jo’s mirth. He had begun to enjoy his joviality and laughter. “Your uncle?”
Jo grimaced and shook his head. “Hell, nah.” Jo’s fixed attention was curious. Set on Hank, he grinned, brown lips hovering above a purple straw. “Noooo. No. No kin to me. He’s GG’s knight. Truth be told, that vampire keeps his distance. Never one to let anybody in. Well, until Veronica. Bitch.”
Kit squinted and clucked his tongue. “Do you and Hank share som—“
“Ready to do some investigations, demon man?”
“Ah, yes!” Kit perked as his belly tumbled with excitement. “More than ready, I’d say. Recon is my favorite. Gathering information on our adversary is crucial.”
“Crucial for what?” Jo asked, nose scrunched.
He headed their trip toward his vehicle while Kit grew giddy at the idea of slaughtering bad ilk.
“Obliteration!” Kit roared, shaking fists at a bruised velveteen sky. “Surprise attacks are what I am known for. We will observe, infiltrate, and crush the opposition.”
Kit stomped his hoof and snarled as Jo giggled. “I still can’t picture you out here catching bodies. You put in some heavy work with the pumpkin mutant thing, though. I will say that.”
“You still doubt?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ll be wise not to.”
“You funny, Kit.”
“How so?”
“You’re honest and mean what you say. Not many folks speak their mind around me. It’s always refreshing when they do.”
Kit laughed and said, “Your deputies don’t have an issue with speaking out of turn.”
“That’s ‘cause they know me.”
Jo used his remote device to open the door. Kit didn’t hesitate. He hopped into the large towing and cargo truck, brimming with jubilation.
“So,” Kit stared as the vehicle rumbled to life. “Are you going to expound on what it is we are investigating?”
Jo dropped his coffee cup into its cradle and started their drive. He was loose at the wheel, though hesitant. Kit sensed his anxiousness and wanted to ease the fairy somehow.
“What are you fretting about, young man?”
“Young man, there you go again.”
“You’re younger than me by decades.”
“True, but I ain’t young by no other standard.”
“Enough,” Kit clipped. “Tell me why your smile has dimmed.”
Jo frowned for a beat, but his eyes remained on the road. “I don’t know what’s going down, really. Powell said I gotta see it for myself, and that your sisters’ neighbors might be into dark shit.”
“Dark shit?”
“Yeah. I don’t know. The old man didn’t wanna talk on the phone.”
“What does this have to do with my sister?”
Jo shrugged. His lack of information tested Kit’s waning patience. “Don’t know yet. But them folks on her street seem nosier than most.”
“Nosy like how?”
“Damn, Kit.” Jo’s smile was pleasant to witness but uncalled for. “You asking a lot of questions.”
“Indeed. If this has anything to do with my baby sister and her well-being, then I need every last detail. I will protect her at all costs. With my life if need be.”
Jo’s approval shone in his grin. “You alright, Kit. There ain’t a lot of men who’d show up for his kin like you.”
“We are a fierce about our tethered. Though we may not always like or even agree with them, we are always there to protect.”
“Sounds about right. I’m the same way with mine.”
Kit patted supple leather and watched a nefarious wood straddling them.
“How many siblings do you have, Jo?”
“None. Just me.”
“The only heir. Must be sublime.”
“I ain’t never felt like an only child.” Jo giggled and plucked his chilled coffee. “I got cousins out the ass. They’re more like older siblings. We tight as brothers and sisters. Me and Tre do just about everything together.”
“So you are close with them?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Mm.” Kit scratched his itchy, growing horn and said, “I suppose Jasper and I are closest. Though we have one younger sister and two brothers. We also have Scour, but they’re neither male nor female. Our Grandmaster was cruel to them.”
“Grandmaster? Like, grandma?”
“Yes, probably. She is my father’s carrier. She is much too old for titles and loathes the term mother. I think our father takes issue with this.”
“So he got mommy issues?”
Kit chuckled and nodded. “He wouldn’t know it, but yes.”
“Yuuuck!” Jo grimaced and huffed. “I can’t stand no man with parental problems. Keep that shit far, far away from me.”
Kit’s tongue with tacky with vellix dragon soot. A question lingered on his palate. One he didn’t know how to ask. He wasn’t even sure if he should. It was no business of his, and what exactly had he planned to do with the information?

Kit sat passenger, fiddling and twiddling. He picked at his bag, cuff, and scratched his horns as if they were a bother. It was a tick, or tell. Something was up with his friend and Jo, ever the curious man, tapped Kit’s arm with the empty cup.
“What’s on your mind, Demon Man?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You been poking about for the last five minutes.”
Kit shook his head, looked out the window, and floundered. He started and stopped. Cocked his head and brow. Shit like this was why Jo had a hard time believing he was some hardened war vet. Maybe that was harsh, and GG might go upside his head for thinking it. Buuut, Kit was soft and awkward. Surly at times and scared of just about everything.
“It’s nothing.”
“Never pegged you for no liar. I know me a few.”
“I—blast! Well, do you have children, or a wife, perhaps?”
Jo cackled, taking the Maplewood exit. It was clear, Kit wann’t good with people. He’d clocked it straightaway. The demon didn’t know how to handle himself around others, either. Perhaps this was due to his many years of service.
Jo couldn’t help but gravitate toward men who served.
Rolling on down Great Oaks, he glanced at Kit and grinned. “That’s all you wanted to ask me?”
“Yes.”
“You something else.”
“I am.”
Jo snickered and parked in front of Jasper’s sad, sickly abode. It was haunted, alright.
“Naaah. I ain’t got nothing going on quite yet.” Jo rubbed his chin and said, “I lost my wife about two years ago.”
He didn’t stay put long enough to witness Kit’s pity or solemnity. At this point, Jo was sick of all them daggone sorrys. He couldn’t stomach one more. Bouncing out of the truck, he waved at Powell.
“Death is death,” Kit said. Meeting Jo on the sidewalk, he shrugged. “You’re still here. The best you can do is honor your dead. Celebrate with drink and fir.e It is always a bit sorrowful losing ones we hold dear. But cycles are meant to end. Even demons can die.”
He stared at the demon who’d struck him. Kit punched Jo right in the nuts, stealing his ability to speak. His aloofness and tone were refreshing. He didn’t even try to pat Jo on the shoulder, hand, or back.
No tears, only indifference.
“Thank you,” Jo said.
“For?”
“Being a strange piece of work.”
Kit frowned. “I’m going to need a thesaurus for these idioms and metaphors you all have. It’s exhaustive.”
Powell grumped, joining the duo. “’Bout time y’all got here.”
“What did you find, deputy?” Kit asked, journal and pen at the ready. “What is it about her neighbors that roused your suspicions?”
The old wolf sniffed and swung his boredom to Jo. “What in the hell is he doing here?”
“You’ve got nerve!”
Head on a swivel, Jo assessed the quaint street. Not a soul stirred. Well-kept, colorful homes lined (street name), windows aglow. Folks were indoors, enjoying dinner or their bed. Jo was jealous.
More than past his bedtime, he yawned. The three shots of espresso did jack shit. He needed more than Nita’s best pressed bean. Aching to rub his feet together and drift into REM, Jo clapped once.
“Let’s take a walk, fellas.” They were off, ambling. He aimed for the end of the block. “What you sniff out, Powell.”
“There ain’t nothing right about that house or this funky ass neighborhood.”
Jo’s wing twitched, and senses thrummed. He wasn’t no vampire, but it was in his blood, along with dark magic he would rather not touch.
His father was to be thanked for it.
Most judged Jo before he said a word. It was something about his stained fingertips and tattoos. The runes he was born with tended to pulse whenever he was within proximity to Dreardian magic.
It was old, blood arcana. The forbidden spells of the Lowstrum family. Their curses were a blight on Indigo Plains.
“You smell that?” Powell asked as they passed the cutest house on the (street. “It ain’t right.”
It wasn’t. From afar, he spotted a trimmed lawn, adorable gnomes, and a thriving garden. The owner took care of the paint and loved flower boxes. They even had a porch swing swaying in the breeze. It was too god damn perfect, and Jo hated it.
Perfection was a ruse. A lie. Smoke and mirrors. It didn’t exist. Somethin’ nasty and ugly festered beneath the fake vanilla scent.
“It’s foul,” Kit added, focused on the two-story. “This is demonic construction.”
“Huh? It’s an old world build.”
“No. No. Not the architecture. The wards. I don’t speak Jalisect, but I know someone who does.”
“Jelly, what now?” Jo studied the tidy home, seeing nothing. He was no demon, though.
“Maybe we can use you after all,” Powell rumbled, slapping Kit’s back. “Good work, General.”
Smug as hell, Kit lifted his chin. “I am always a good choice. Leave it to me. We will get to the bottom of these odd happenings.”
The front door creaked, opening for a pair of eyes to greet them. They stared, and Jo bristled in the strained quiet.
“Hello, there,” Powell called, waving. The homeowner didn’t say a word. Jo ain’t like how beyond them, stood a void. A darkness not even he made out. Lights shone from inside, dappling the lawn.
What they were looking at didn’t add up.
“Have a good night now,” Jo said.
They slammed the door and locked it. Deadbolts clacked into place, telling them what time it was.
“I don’t like it here,” Kit said, scrutinizing the block. “My demonic urge is to fight. I have neither a weapon nor strength. We should leave at once.”
“You right.” Jo took his advice and hustled onward. They tracked back up Great Oaks and were watched the entire way.
“This ain’t normal,” Powell said, booking it. “I’m bout ready to throttle ‘em. See you tomorrow, Sheriff.”
Glowing pits of green pierced through the eerie, abysmal cracks.
“You notice how quiet it is?” Jo asked, keys in hand. He aimed the remote as Powell tore away, heading for his truck. “Not a single cricket or cicada. I don’t even hear a god damn owl. Ain’t no breeze or nothing. Ohhhh nahhh, hell nah. This ain’t for me. My Black ass do not belong here.”
Starting the engine, he glanced at Jasper’s house and flinched. Numerous sets of eyes glared from the second floor. Green, red, yellow, and white.
He pointed, and Kit gasped. “What in the Undervell—who are they?”
“I have no fucking idea, but we gon’ find out soon enough.”