Tuesday’s weren’t for the weak. Nieema hated slow days more than off days. After five hundred years of working, moving, and shaking, she didn’t know how to relax. The only down time she had was in Bucks arms or tucked away in their dungeon.
If not for him, Nieema wouldn’t have a reason to sit ass. She was a mother, grandmother, and queen of Ravensguard. This kept her from lazing about.
June through August was her least busiest time of year. Come November, she’d be knee deep in charity work, quilt making, embroidery commissions, and festive requests that should have been scheduled months prior. December was all about the Solstice and Christmas. When Nieema jumped from town to city, checking on her people.
She had civic duties, paperwork, and housing to procure, not to mention the occasional visit from territory leaders. So, Yeahhhh, holding up in the hardware shop made her feel useless, antsy. She coulda’ been doing something productive. Instead, Nieema reclined behind the counter, scrolling on her phone. While searching for yarn, thread, and other shit she didn’t need, her night brightened.
Feet kicked up and ankles locked, she smiled. “What can I get you, fine folks, tonight? I got a discount on sandpaper and caulk.”
“What I want ain’t on them shelves.”
“I know that’s right.”
Nieema glanced at the door as he entered, Jasper trailing. And oooowee, was she a sight. Pressed, slick, and classic. There was nothing more attractive than a person who dressed to impress. She smelled better than a fresh hotty toddy.
Cinnamon sweet and dark, their scents mingled. Jasper accompanied Buck’s earthy woods and high allspice so well. Their tangled aromas made her more than curious. She enjoyed the sublime fragrance and wanted to speak on it, but decided not to. Buck’s words echoed in her skull as Jasper avoided eye contact. She hung back and perused.
Nieema dropped legs and admired her husband.
“Where you been?” Nieema asked.
“Dorthy wanted an introduction.”
“Hm.”
Nieema didn’t have nothing nice to say about the woman, so she wouldn’t address it.
“Other than that, what you get into?”
“Nothin’.”
Buck popped his gum and sniffed, sliding behind the counter. He scooted on over to the POS and tapped on the screen.
“Buckley, you got ‘bout two-point-three, and I do mean it.”
“He done pissed me off!” Buck piped. “Hawke is a red-beaked vulture, tell you what. He prayed on Jasper’s naivety and kindness. I couldn’t have it.”
The drawer popped open, and Buck got to counting the till. Wasn’t but fifty-seven dollars in it. They made the most money on weekends.
“You spooked that man. His brother texted me about it. Said he rushed home in tears. Thinks we gon’ have him beheaded.”
Buck laughed and said, “Lucky I don’t.”
“You hush. Wild boy.”
“Damn straight.” Buck cast his gaze downward and lingered. “Where’s my love?”
Nieema giggled as he descended. His crushing, breathtaking kiss roused her thirst. Nieema had half a mind to drag his fine ass to the back, but figured it rude, given their company.
After nipping his lip, she stole a drop or two. He grunted and pecked her forehead.
“Why you so quiet, woman?” Nieema asked, looking for Jasper.
She’d ventured off, disappearing between shelves and stacks. “It’d be a shame to interrupt.”
“Is that right?”
“Nimmy,” Buck warned.
Jasper sauntered on over, hands in her pockets. Her sashay was nasty, and so was the wolfish grin. Jasper wasn’t so shy or skittish now. Nieema sensed her draw. Succubi fed on desire, lust, and love. They thrived in a passionate environment.
“Dining on me and mine, are we?”
“Shhhhit,” Buck hissed.
Nieema crossed arms atop the counter and matched Jasper’s molten gaze. She was bold and unabashed, towering. Gold winked and gleamed against her gorgeous red complexion.
Jasper was a cold piece and had to know it. Bad as a bitch and sneaky.
Arrogance wafted as she peered. “I don’t have much of a choice with y’all. You freaked out.”
“You ain’t seen shit yet,” Buck said.
Nieema snapped her fingers. “You just told me—boy, shut up.”
“Well.”
He slammed the drawer and sighed. “You know how to work a register, Jasper?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Get over here and show me then.”
She stalled, squinting. “Say please.”
Nieema chuckled at her statement. Buck was the wrong one to try. He’d stroke that ego and make you feel so goooood. Finessing an unprepared dame was light work for the king of Nieema’s heart.
“Please,” he drawled, eyes glinting beneath the rim of his dusty old hat.
Fuck, Nieema wanted to give him neck right now. Drop the knee and choke.
Jasper’s confidence swelled. It was all in her face, in her smile and high chin. Nieema clocked her sure stride and square shoulders.
Poor soul thought she’d won.
“Well, since y’all are gonna do some training. I’m gonna head out. Got some business to handle.”
Nieema snatched her bag from under the counter. “Before I go, Jasper, I wanna apologize—“
“Will you be free tonight?” Jasper interrupted.
“Uhhhh, yeah. I can be.”
“I’ll see you at the ranch. We’ll talk then.”
“We sure can. Ten-thirty?”
“Done.”
“Perfect.”
“Indeed.”
Nieema checked on her man, mirth shaking him loose. Maybe he was right about patience and whatever the hell. True, Nieema wasn’t the one trying to smash last week. And yes, she’d been telling Buck not to jump the line, and hell yeah, she was fuckin’ hypocritical.
Jasper wouldn’t be ignored. Instincts told Nieema not to forsake this woman. She listened to her gut and intuition without fail. They were never wrong. If a vampire had nothing else, they had base instincts. It was a matter of survival.
Life or death.
“You two behave, and Buck, I need you to get the collards. I’m not gonna ask again.”
“I know.”
“You say that, but I asked you on Monday to pick them up. Farris just harvested them for us since yours aren’t ready. Don’t embarrass me!”
“Go on, now, Nimmy. Take yourself somewhere. We busy!”
“You ain’t busy yet, Moss Balls.”
“Nimmy, god damn it.”
Nieema cackled as Jasper asked about the term of endearment. On the way out, she eyed the duo, and they smiled. It was a delicious vision. Buck in proximity to Jasper.
Brushing fabrics with inches between them. The implication made her shudder and exit. She needed the cool rush of a late summer breeze. With fresh air came clarity, reminding her of what she needed to do before heading home.
Strolling down Everrose Street, she plucked her phone. With a tap, she dialed Hank. Folks smiled and waved. Nieema returned their friendliness in kind as her knight and right hand answered.
“Huh? What?”
“I need you to meet me at Lita’s.”
“Are you good?”
“No.”
“On the way.”
Hank had been her blade and shield for centuries. They’d traveled the world and fought; bled together. She’d dug trenches and nearly died beside the vampire. Nieema knighted Hank some five hundred years ago. He hadn’t left her since. He was family, but family didn’t always get along. He was mad about that wild bitch who tried to slaughter everyone in the coven. There was only one way to stop her. Axe and salted rainwater.
Hank was pissed, no two ways about it. He wasn’t happy with Nieema or Buck at the moment. It wasn’t his fault, though. Love potions were horrid and had lingering effects even after the victim was cured.
Hank suffered greatly at the hands of an unwell necromancer. Soon, he’d come out of this fog and see the truth.
Until then, Nieema had to deal with his scorn. Mad as a soaked burrowing bear he may be, the man would come when called. He knew to drop the shit and stand on ten toes. When it was time for knightly business, he was there post haste.
It came as no surprise when Hank rolled up and jumped from his truck ten minutes later. Serious as ever, no nonsense and alert. He joined Nieema at the table she dined at.
Next door to Lita’s was Indigo’s finest vampire dive. It catered to their kind with a menu vampires appreciated. Blood was the main ingredient. Powdered, spiced, cold, hot, mixed, pure, or tap.
The meals were fresh and hot, made to order.
“What you got there?” Hank pursed his lips and snagged a corn puff. It was similar to a double-fried hushpuppy dripping with grease. Cornmeal, flour, and coagulated blood. Of course, most nutrients were lost after frying, but it tasted damn good.
Nieema got three dozen and a medium, sugar blended a-positive. Frothy and refreshing, she sipped as Hank stole a puff.
“You can get your own.”
He grumped and chewed. Hank had a grandfatherly air about him, though he had no kids and never married. The thought often caused her pain. He’d put his whole life into serving. Nieema wanted more for him, but they’d argued about it enough.
“What’s going on, Majesty?”
“Don’t do that.”
“You queen ain’t you?”
“Hank, you can be mad all you want. But that won’t change what happened.”
He garbled and stole his second puff. “You talking to me like I don’t already know. What you call me for, huh? What’s going on?”
Nieema punched down her drink with the straw, considering her next words carefully. She didn’t know the whole story and had no intention of running her mouth about Jasper.
“Juel might have…been paid to keep tabs on our new house guest.”
Hank recoiled and blinked. “Cheryl’s boy?”
“Mhm.”
Hank stroked his beard and nodded, attention fixed on the bustling crowd across the street.
Some new space movie was released two days ago, so the cinema was packed. Free ticket Wednesdays and unlimited popcorn kept Spalding’s in business.
Its glittering marquee made her nostalgic for times past. Buck had taken her to the movies for the first official date. Back then, films were silent moving pictures.
Nieema refused to give her money to them big theater chains. No way, no how.
“What you tryna’ do?” Hank asked, mid-sigh. He crossed his arms and glowered. “I don’t know what we can get him on. He wasn’t stalking.”
“How you know?” Nieema snipped, crunching on ice. “He been watching her comings and goings. Off in the cut somewhere, eating sour candy. Sounds like stalking to me.”
“You gonna detain him?”
“No.”
“What am I here for?”
“This is official royal business, okay? You gotta be with me.”
Hank shrugged and snagged another ball. “Alright now! You gon’ lose two fingers fucking around with my food.”
For the first time in a while, Hank grinned. “Hurry up and eat so I can get back.”
“What you got going on?” Nieema considered the old vampire. “Why are you in such a rush?”
He sniffed and scrunched up his face. “My chickens. I gotta keep an eye on ‘em. That furry devil done killed ‘bout three. Nimmy, it’s bad. That man ain’t got no kinda handle on his beast or friend, I don’t know, hell.”
Hank was mighty flustered. “Who’s beast?”
He flicked a hand and snapped fingers. “Wushisname, uh, Jasper’s brother. Uh, Kit? His cat is wild, feral, and a pain in my Black ass.”
Nieema chuckled as Hank prattled on about the chaos Kit’s cat had caused. Apparently, it was possessed. A demonic kitty. How adorable, she thought.
“Well,” Nieema started, “I wish you luck, but don’t be acting a damn fool.”
“I ain’t.”
He lied.
“Yeah, right. Don’t badger Kit and leave his cat alone, you hear me?”
“Shit,” Hank cussed again, mumbling about his coops and such. “I’ll try, but Nimmy, I can’t lose no more hens.”
“I hear you.”
Hank shook his head and sighed. “You almost done? God damn!”
“Shut your rickety ass up.”
“Don’t make me knock this shit over,” Hank warned. “I’ll do it!”
Nieema eyed him and pointed two talons at his mug. “I’ll break my foot off in you—“
“I’m ‘bouta go,” Hank snapped. “You playing with my time, woman.”
Nieema laughed and finished her drink. Hank helped her polish off the puffs and even tossed her trash. With their snack date done, she headed next door.
Lita’s was one of two hair salons in Indigo Plains. And folks loved Lita’s cause; Marshay braided better than Princess, who had a chair at Wax. Nieema preferred Lita’s, mostly cause it wasn’t so prim.
Hot irons and food scented the air. It was a welcoming aroma she found comforting. Every last chair was taken. Folks looked mad and defeated. They had appointments, for damn sure, but time was of no value the second you crossed the threshold.
“Look who decided to show they face!” Marshay bellowed, eyes on the hot comb she held with care. “You come up in here after taking them braids out for no damn reason.”
The owner of Lita’s, named after her late mother, tapped somebody in the temple.
“Girl, you got nerve. You bet not fall asleep in my chair!” Marshay lifted her carmine stare and tweaked a brow. “They were fine, Nimmy. Shit. You be wasting my time.”
“Look, here, you know I gotta switch shit up. Don’t know why you mad.”
“Tuh, do your own hair from now on, then, Queen.”
“You so huuuuurrrt,” Nieema grimaced and pointed at Juel. His chair was second to last. He sat in it, eating. “Listen, imma buy you lunch, Shay.”
“I want a bottle of Venwae.”
Nieema cocked her head as Juel dragged tail. “Venwae! The fuck who you think I am. That’s top-shelf blood, ma’am.”
“Nimmy,” Pat called from his spot by the dryers. “You hear about the mall shit?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Huh? You heard about the Voaremont inviting the Chieftain over for supper?”
“Juel, bring your behind, now!”
“I’m coming, I had to put my food up.”
“What you mean invited?” Nieema looked to Pat. The man nodded. “Invited how?”
“You know how invites work, girl.”
“He can’t enter Ravensguard without my say.”
“Wellll, you better talk to the Voaremonts’ and the orcs about it.”
“I plan to.” Nieema glanced at Hank, who was already tapping on his phone. “Get that motha fucka on the line.”
“Already done.” Her knight exited the salon with the phone to his ear.
“Juel, baby, let’s take a walk.”
“I didn’t know you were with her, I—“
Nieema clasped a hand on the back of his neck and peered into butterscotch brown. Juel was a good boy and probably didn’t mean harm. But, he was still on the wrong side of this here situation, and Nieema wanted to know why.
“I didn’t ask you to talk, quite yet, honey.” Nieema started their journey and released her nervous cousin. “Don’t worry, Juel. I ain’t gon’ bite you. But I will need you to talk, and it’d behoove you not to lie. Start from the beginning and tell me how you got

Hello, y’all. I know it’s a few days late. I am sorry for that, but I wanted to give myself some breathing room. I wrote a few more chapters and don’t feel so…behind? I looooveee staying ahead by a couple of chapters, but I paused for two shorts that I had to get out of me!
Anyway, we are back on schedule, and here they are. We have a lot to come, and I know y’all are waiting for Buck and Jasper to have their moment. Soon, I promise.
There will also be side quests!
As y’all know, I’m a panster. And this panster loves external conflict. I’m still gonna keep stuff low-stakes, this won’t be high, world-ending shit. Nahhhh. But there will be a dash, sprinkle, pinch of political intrigue. I can’t stay away from it…apparently.
The Voaremonts’ ain’t shit. I’m going to let y’all know that now. And yeah, the surname is…Mhmmmm. Not an accident. And with their mall comes trouble of all sorts.
What else? Oh! Jasper’s cursed house is still cursed as hell, and we will get back to that in a bit. Because it’s FUNNN and I like where this is going.
Anyhooo, thank you, thank you for being here with me. Your support makes my day. Have a lovely weekend! And remember, drink water, eat that god damn muffin, and sleep more. Byyyyye.