Her ferocious appetite and salacious display caused a visceral reaction. An inner flame kindled anew. Buck had worn Jasper smooth out and fucked her into the mattress, but the scene filled her with heat. Dragon’s breath surged through her veins and singed her soul. Nieema wasn’t a polite or delicate feeder. Blood dripped and landed on her heaving bosom. Jasper gasped the moment Buck moaned. She rubbed her own neck. The exact spot where Nieema had taken her more than a week ago. Past and present collided. It broke Jasper down to a hot, weeping mass of lust. There was no question about it, she was sore but recovered quickly. It was in her bones to give and take. Denying herself this brand of desire was futile. She failed and folded. Jasper pushed aside the sheer curtain of fabric and spread her legs. Buck growled and grasped his woman’s frame. He gave a curt nod and licked his lips. “Please.” She didn’t need to be told twice. Jasper surrendered and dipped two fingers between her silken walls. She moaned, and used the armrests to prop up both legs. Wide and splayed for Buck’s viewing pleasure, Jasper curled her fingers within. She didn’t need much. Not after hours with Buck and Nieema’s sweltering desire. The air was thick with her lust, love, and hunger. It drove Jasper to fuck herself with haste. She buried digits deep, pressing against her knots. “Of fuck, Nieema, please. Please.” Jasper gritted her teeth as the world ignited. Flames drenched her soul as she came apart and bludgeoned her clit. “I’m gonna come. I—I—“ The sudden burst of euphoria incinerated every word on her tongue. Jasper rolled her clit and rode her orgasm for as long as possible. “Can I have you, my dear?” Nieema rasped into her ear. Jasper only nodded and accepted her fate. “Yes. Take me.” She was snatched, yanked to the floor, and positioned. Nieema folded her ass up like a lawn chair. As a succubus, Jasper was flexible. With soft joints and forgiving ligaments. Thank the Undergods she was comfortable in most positions. Patience dwindling, she wanted to the point of excruciating pain with tiddies touching her chin and tail swishing. Nieema had removed her gown and dripped as she sat upon Jasper’s swollen core. Her ample behind was round, dimpled, and streaked. Its jiggle concerned Jasper immensely. She wouldn’t last watching its graceful motion. “Aw, shit!” Nieema yelled. “You so god dman wet. Oh my god.” Ankles behind her head and pussy tooted in the air, Jasper was the best seat in the house and Nieema used her. She dropped that fire kewchie on Jasper and undulated. They moaned in unison as she rocked against her. Their delicious honey made the glide and ride too damn easy. Jasper whimpered, eyes greeting the back of her skull. She let Nieema have her way and enjoyed every second of her grind. “OooooShit,” Nieema cursed once again and hitched forward then back. “You’re about to make me come quick, girl.” “Please don’t,” Jasper panted. “Lemme distract her for you,” Buck said. Because she needed it and because she couldn’t resist, Jasper opened her eyes. “Damn you.” Buck loomed over them both and handled his dick with purpose. “Spit on that shit, too.” Nieema worked on Jasper while she tended to her husband. The scene was obstructed but it was plain as day. Nieema served dome and rode Jasper’s pussy like a champion, a god, or someone who knew her body well. Unable to hold her own proclivities at bay, Jasper’s essence stretched and spread. She sought her succubi nature and enhanced their connection. She plumped her labia, walls, and clit. Adding some bounce back and a splash of rigidity made Nieema yelp around Buck’s length. “Whatever you doing, she likes it,” Buck said. “Mm. Drink it down, beloved!” He cradled his wife’s head and fucked her throat. Their pleasure mounted tenfold and caused Jasper to vibrate. She purred below the waist and Nieema loved it. Her dip and swirl grew needy. Increasing speed, she rocked both her hips and Jasper. The infinite flow of energy and desire filled Jasper’s well to overflowing. She hadn’t the capacity to speak with Nieema putting that pressure on her. She twirled with abandon and swallowed her man’s dick. The queen owned them both and Jasper was at wits end. Begging for salvation. Pleading for mercy and to come just one more time. She was overdone and cooked with stalled lungs. Nieema screamed over Buck’s grunts and praise. “Ahhh! Fuckfuckf—I’m about to nut on that pussy. Oh shit. Jasper, you feel so good.” She bounced once, twice, and a third time. Crushing Jasper and fucking her into the floor. She smeared their juices and made music. The squelching, her hefty jiggling ass and her wails severed Jasper’s spine. She melted and howled. Another impossibly strong orgasm tackled her. Every erogenous zone touched;stained. Jasper wrapped her tail around Nieema’s waist and forbade the woman to move an inch. Whining and groaning, Jasper lamented. “I will not keep at it like this. I’m a grown-ass succubus but I am done! You hear me? I’m leaving. I am out this bitch. I’ve given my all! Gluttons. Both of you.” Buck and Nieema cackled while Jasper heaved. Still folded up and sweating. She stared at Nieema’s ass and licked her lips. Jasper tapped all that booty meat with her tail and cursed. “No! No. I will not. It’s not funny. I had a long day and now I am ready to chill.” “Well, you the one groping my behind.” Nieema looked back at it and dared to grin like the demon she was. “You the one who won’t let me go.” “okay, yes. You’re pussy is too soft.” “I know that’s right!” Nieema chuckled and smacked Jasper’s ass. “I gotta get back anyway.” “Back where?” “Bull shit!” Buck yelled from the bathroom. “You shut up, Moss Balls.” He grumbled as Jasper released Nieema and dropped legs. Her knees popped and snapped. Nieema snickered and settled. On her side, head in hand she smiled. Red eyes with fresh finger waves to match. Queen Nieema was the prettiest dame North of Undervell. “You’re ravishing.” Jasper said. She brushed Nieema’s cheek with adorned knuckles. “A rare piece.” Mrs. Sunside beamed, sharp fangs gleaming. “Tell me something I don’t know.” The urge to divulge secrets spooked Jasper into silence. Instead of clawing at the stitches in her heart, set to rip them out, she crashed into the sultry vampire’s lips. She craved her like a ripe, forsaken soul fattened and marbled with decades’ worth of debauchery. She hit the spot better than a pound of lemon cake. Nieema and Buck satisfied her succubus pangs without trying. Yeah, it was safe to say Jasper was royally fucked and way in over her horns.
“But I caaaaan’t move Maxi, I swear to you I can’t.” Max stood over Chrissy and laughed at her theatrics. The cute, bubbly blonde was flat on her back and ready to cry again. She threw out a hand, and Max tried to help her up. “My body doesn’t work anymore. Just throw me in the ocean.” “See, this is why I don’t date Scorpios.” Jordan’s input made Max laugh, but Chrissy glared at the man. “Not funny, you bitch.” “I may be a slut, but at least I’ll sleep without a broken heart. Ah! Ndari!” “Leave her alone, Jordan, she’s in enough pain.” “Come on, baby.” Max pulled Chrissy up, and the girl whined, but got to her feet that were tucked in strappy heels. She never wore sneakers or boots; she’d rather saw her feet off than wear anything below six inches. “We only have two hours left.” Chrissy slumped over the counter. “You can do iiiit.” “We’re not gonna get customers anyway,” Jordan said, with a massive dose of irritation. They had two walk-ins and no appointments. Which, given her father’s financial matters, wasn’t good. Business needed to pick up, and like now. Either that or accept Jaxon’s offer. “I shoulda’ called out. It’s shit, niiiight, Maxi. I canceled a dick appointment for this.” Rounding behind the counter, she smiled at Ndari and shrugged. “Sorry, can’t relate.” “That’s because you have Low slinging his tally whacker in your face all day.” Max giggled and opened her sketch book. Grabbing a pencil, she sighed at the eyes staring back. She’d added color two days ago. “Low was only a participant last night.” “Uuuuugghhh.” Jordan stomped his big foot and groaned. “Here we go. Another threesome, I take it? I hate you. You get laid more than anyone I know.” Ndari nudged her. “Who was it this time? A construction worker from your dad’s job. A model who wanted to kiss you, or a girl who had cute hair. Oooo, what about—oh, dear lor,d this is beautif, ul Maxi. Who is this?” She sighed again. “Jaxon Aubrey.” “Who?” “Jaxon, the redhead.” Chrissy popped up from what may have turned into a power nap. “The snazzy fella that came in here the other night? Oh my god!” “I knew he liked women!” Jordan stopped sweeping and deflated. “He looks like a pussy beater.” Max clicked her tongue ring, “Naaahhhh. He loves himself some dick too,” The lumberjack dropped the Libman and gasped. “No way, bitch. Please, do tell.” “I am gonna kill you.” Ndari barked, “Why didn’t you tell me?” “It just happened last night. And it is not happening again.” Chrissy grimaced. “Cause of your weirdo rule about second dates? Live it up, sweet cheeks! I do, and I’m one hundred and forty-five.” “Old skank,” Jordan blurted. “Troglodyte. Go wash that hobo beard, it smells like gym socks.” Jordan flipped Chrissy off as the bell rang. Their group scattered, revealing the last person Max wanted to see. Despite how nice he was, she didn’t want to deal with him. “I hope you don’t mind. Tracy told me where to find you.” Ndari was perplexed, glancing at Max. “Uhm, I’ll go restock your room.” Raymond stepped to the counter, and Max wanted to scream. Maybe curse and knock this man in the head with the cash register. If he died, their problems were over. Slamming her book closed, she battened down the hatches on her attitude. This wasn’t his fault; they were both stuck in the middle. Although he probably wasn’t involved in his father’s affairs. Max had her reasons. The allowance was barely enough to care for everyone. “Uh, no. It’s fine. You might as well see where I work and what it is I do.” Raymond meandered and stared at the cluttered wall of art. “I don’t have any tattoos, never thought to get one. Looks painful.” “It’s not so bad once you get used to the needle. It can actually become quite addicting.” He smiled and dragged kind eyes over to her. “I can tell. Not a single person I know with tattoos has only one.” “Nope, can’t say I met anybody with one tat. They’re like unicorns or—” “Mermaids.” She blushed and gestured to the one on her neck. “Yes, exactly.” Raymond sighed and looked out the window, then returned to Max. “I was wondering if we could go somewhere and talk, if you’re able.” “You know what? I can’t.” Chrissy appeared with a pristine smile and golden ringlets. “I got ya, girly, go on. I’ll lock up. Might leave earl,y though. It’s dry as my mother’s apple pie.” “You sure?” Max grimaced.” “Yes, hun, go.” Ndari squeezed her arm and smirked. “I want you to text me when you get home.” She made eye contact with the mal,e and Max snickered. “The moment you get in.” “I will, Mom. Don’t worry. Can you open tomorrow?” “Like I did tonight?” Ndari cocked a brow. “Yeah, sure. For the tenth time this week.” “I lovvve you.” Shouldering her purse, Max pointed at Jordan. “I want you booked by next Friday, and I mean it. All of you. Tilt will be back from vacation in a week, I don’t wanna hear his mouth about how he’s the goat or some shit.” “It’s so quiet without him.” Jordan’s disdain for Tilt was due to his crushing…and bad. “Okay, I’ll see y’all. Be good!” Max let Raymond lead, and the gentleman opened the door. “Thank you kindly.” “No problem.” Miami heat, brine,e and moisture stuck to her skin. A shower was next in line after a meal. She followed her escort, and he stopped in front of the Mercedes E-class. Damn, talk about saucy. Raymond remained helpful and allowed her to get in first. “Thanks.” Once safely buckled, he ran to the driver’s side. The interior was lavish and smelled of men’s Cologne. He started the engine,e and Ronald Isley came on just in time. “Oh my god, I love the Isley Brothers.” “What?” Raymond grinned as he started off to wherever they were going. “Me too, and this one? That Lady is my jam.” “You got good taste, my man.” “So, it’s Friday and 1am. Where would you like to go? There are a few 24-hour spots around here.” “The Tavern,” Max prompted. “I go there a lot, especially this time of night. It’s close, and they have great fish and chips.” “Ohh yeah, I know the place, Hotel Croyen, right?” “Exactly. It’s legit, six minutes away. Right on Collins.” Raymond smiled. “The Tavern it is.” There wasn’t much of a trip at one in the morning, but they filled the time talking about music. He had a love for golden oldies, that was it. “Must be fate, look at this. Right in front, gosh.” Gosh, she thought. Did the male even cuss? To be fair, not everyone did, but Max needed to say ‘shit’ at least once a da,y or she’d explode somehow. After Raymond paralleled like a master, he got out and beat her to the door. “Are you gonna do that every time?” Max asked. “If left up to me, yes.” She snickered and paced to The Tavern. Sensing him on her heels, Max looked back. “They have wonderful apps, and the Nutella waffle? Holy shit.” Being a woman on her own, she didn’t like to be waited on hand and foot, so she ran for the door. “Ha! Too slow, honey! You gotta be quicker than that if you rolling with me, now.” Raymond chuckled as she made way inside. Fried food and coffee tickled her nose as cool jazz played at a hushed volume. The all-hour diner was packed and bustling. Waiters whipped to and fro carrying trays, while others jotted orders with a smile. “I did not think it would be this busy,” Raymond said. “Mhm. Kids are starting to come in from everywhere. This time next week, we’d have to wait an hour to get a seat.” “How many?” the cute hostess asked. “Just two,” Raymond replied. Raymond handled formalities while Max headed for the exit. A fifteen-minute wait wasn’t much, but she didn’t want to pass it by standing around. “Uh, outside?” Max pointed to the door and strolled back out. The heat be damned, it was stuffy in the waiting area with nowhere to sit. At least they had a bench to kill time on. Dropping her ass on down, Max rifled through her bag. “Where is…god dam—oh, found it.” With her hooka—instead of vape—in hand, she turned the thing on and inhaled all that cherry goodness. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. Do you mind?” Raymond shook his head. “Nope. Have at it. I smoked a joint once, back in college.” She giggled at such an innocent answer. His admittance didn’t surprise her. This male came from money. He was well educated and straight as a fresh line. They’d been given the same opportunities, but Max hated the square, trad wife bull shit. Pressed, prim, and proper had turned wicked within. Raymond was nice. The Black hipster, aci berry, and oat milk smoothie quality worked for him. His locs were tight, neat, and in a masculine updo. Something most men would appreciate. Ripped jeans and a plaid button-up screamed Ambicrombie, though. Other than his whack ass attire, he seemed affable with a non-threatening, soft coral stare. “It’s not weed,” Max stressed. “I don’t smoke Mary Jane. It’s hookah.” “What’s that?” Max pulled the metal tip from her lips and examined it. She smiled and said, “I don’t really know.” “You’re smoking a mysterious substance?” “I mean…” She looked at it again. “Well, shit, yeah. It tastes nice. I think it’s tobacco of some sort.” Raymond grinned, his pearly whites making a brief appearance. “You live on the edge, I see.” “This ain’t even close to the edge, Raymond.” “Call me Ray.” “Okay, Ray. You can call me Max.” Before inhaling, she sighed. “Sorry about running out on you the other night.” “Don’t apologize, I understand. This is… I don’t even have the words for it. I hadn’t planned for this. My Father barged into my house yelling commands. Stating how I had get married.” His shoulders sagged, and his expression darkened. “I never wanted to get married. I don’t want to. You seem like a decent woman…I just, I’m not ready for any of this.” Max gave him a second to fume; hell, they both needed it. She didn’t want this either, nor was she ready, or fit to be anyone’s wife. Pushing smoke through her nose, she shrugged. “If I didn’t need my Dad’s money, I’d be gone.” Ray scoffed. “I wish it were monetary for me. I’ve been doing what Matthias wants my whole life. Became a Lawyer for him. I’m the Viscount’s personal attorney. Just like he wanted. Now, I’m getting married. With little hope of him acknowledging any of it… Oh, Max, forgive me. I don’t mean to trauma dump.” “Don’t say sorry for shit. We’re in a fucked up predicament, and if you ever need to vent, I’m here. I’d rant, but it is what it is. Can’t blame anyone but myself, really.” Raymond rested his elbows on his knees and looked back at her. “Thank you for not telling me to go shove it.” “I know how an overbearing and controlling parent can be. Lived my entire life with one. I know your pain, bruh. Not to change the subject or anything, but uh, how old are you?” “Fifty-one.” Max high whistled at such a low ass number. “Whew, baby, you fresh meat. Hey now, you better be careful, I might let you get to know me.” The male blushed hard and straightened. “How about you? I don’t want to ask a lady overtly. That’s highly inappropriate.” Max took another hit and wrinkled her nose. “I’ll be a centennial next year.” Ray’s eyes popped. “Wow, gosh.” “I know, I know. I’m an old lady, but I got style and sass. I can teach you a few thangs, don’t you know?” He beamed and said, “I believe that, but no. I was going to say you don’t look a day over twenty-one…as expected. But you fit in with this time so well. Not many of us do. You obviously shop at Hot Topic. Max exploded in genuine laughter. She crackled and tapped his arm. “Was that your attempt at a joke?” “Maybe, was it bad?” “No, I liked it.” She snorted and stashed her hookah in the bag. “I love expression. In all forms, Body art and modification is an excellent outlet for someone like me. I love piercings, and I definitely want more. I forget how many I have.” “I counted two in your nose and one in your lip there.” She was impressed by how fast he noted everything. “Nine on your left ear, annnnd four on your right.” “You, sir, are correct. But you’re missing some.” He frowned. “I am, where? I don’t—” Max extended her tongue, shutting him right the fuck up. The male recoiled and blushed again. He looked elsewhere and cleared his throat. “You have one just there… in—yeah, there it is.” She buckled down on a bout of giggles. “I’m gonna get a cross bar real fuckin’ soon though.” “Whatever that is.” He nodded and glanced her way. “It’s a horizontal piercing.” “Ohhhh, okay. That looks like it hurts really bad.” Raymond grimaced. “Nope, a quick stab and it’s all done. Plus, we heal quick. An hour or two and donezo.” “Hm. Well, if it’s any consolation, they suit you.” Now she diverted attention. To the ground, her shoes, and various couples enjoying a late night out. God, Max didn’t want to do this. Raymond wasn’t who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. More to the point, she didn’t want to get married. But her luck was shit, and there was no going back. “Thank you,” Max said. “I do it for me, not for acceptance.” “Good for you.” Raymond’s reply held zero snark. He spoke genuinely, but the slice of sadness gave her pause. Max wanted to find out why, but his name came through the speakers. “That’s us.” Max chimed. Bouncing up, Ray showcased a palm. “Oh my god, what is that?” He pointed, and Max jumped, prepared to wield her taser. Spinning around, she saw nothing. “Made you look.” The male’s voice got her attention. She laughed at the corny shit as he stood there with the door open. “After you, m’lady.” Max snapped her fingers. “You got me, Ray. I’m gonna have to keep my eye on you.” “That you will.”
Ooooop, I bet y’all thought I was going to forget, huh? Nahhh. I gotchu! As long as y’all read it, I will publish new chapters. I want to finish this book so y’all can hate me for the second! No, because I’m serious, you’re probably gonna hop into my inbox afterward. Buuuuut, don’t fret, it’s all gonna be okay. But not for Max. (insert crying emoji) She and Raymond are being put through helllll. When I wrote this book, I was so into torturing these poor souls. I was all about putting my characters through the absolute worst. And I think that speaks to how dark my own life was at the time. I was trapped with a violent, abusive man. I felt as though I had nowhere to go. Like I’d lost all autonomy. I wrote this series to give myself hope and to vent, kind of. Yes, the road to our HEA is rough, but it’ll be worth it. This was the story both Max and I wanted to tell. And you know what? I’m happy I wrote it, but I’m even happier that y’all are reading it. Thank you so much for stopping by, and please stay cool. It’s hotter than hell, and Y’ALL, my AC is broken. I live in Vegas. Send me SNOWWWWW! Anyway, y’all have a beautiful night and see you next week, bookie.
Close quarters and molten delight. Buck wasn’t one to push or the sort to add pressure until within the arms of promising darkness. He let folks live and die however they wanted. There were too many petals to pluck. Why worry himself silly over one fragrant flower? It was no secret that he was for whoever wanted him. Be it man, woman, or them, he’d be there. Slipping between walls and digging ‘em out. He wasn’t picky. Buck had a good woman with great pussy he tasted with every swallow. “There ain’t much to it,” Buck said, smoke puffing and curling. He applied another price sticker and glanced at Jasper. “You got it.” “Surely.” “How many jobs have you had?” “Not many, but enough.” “You like dealing with people?” Buck asked, plucking his pipe from the shelf. “And don’t be shy. Consider this an interview.” “Thought I had the job already?” Gold flecks sparked in her eyes like agitated fireflies. Jasper’s unbidden attention yanked at his soaked roots. “I need some personal info to put on paper. Mater fact…” Buck brushed past the demon, and she chuckled while he was left to burn. Her scent dared to raze his soul. “Step into my office.” He sauntered between stacks and units. Shelves cluttered and dusty. Nieema hated the task and refused to handle it. The aroma of sawdust, mulch, and metals reminded him of them early days. When the hardware store was their only means of making ends meet. Buck smiled and trekked onward, across twelve hundred square feet. Their first baby had grown up and out since times of old. “We gotta fill out that application and such. Got health care and whatnot.” The back of house wasn’t shit but a bathroom, office, and an adjacent break room. They cut wood outdoors because Buck couldn’t stand the sight. They weren’t sentient trees, but watching the work made his ass itch nonetheless. “Let’s see here.” Buck hustled to the bookshelf, set his pipe next to a fussy ficus, and located the folders. He snatched one and dropped it on the desk. Jasper was a cold piece, feet kicked up atop glossy mahogany. Ankles crossed, she rocked in the chair, hands on her soft belly. Buck grunted and smacked her loafer. “You don’t pay for nothing. Feet off my shit.” She cackled and snagged the folder. He picked a pen from the holder and offered it. Jasper snatched the damned thing and locked her scorching stare upon high. Buck matched her indignation. He smoked in silence and gathered much from her quick script. “I don’t take to demands well, Buckley.” “Sumn’ else we got in common, huh?” She flipped pages and continued, eyes on the application. “Your wife is beguiling.” “I agree.” “Nieema was respectful and forthcoming. Intent on fucking me.” Buck grunted and ambled, mouth to the teak tip. He waited a tick and stared out the single four-pane window he’d installed nearly two hundred years ago. Still held up, much like his marriage. “You tryna make a case or convince me of somethin’?” “I don’t want you to think I came onto her. Or that I sought to do anything with your wife.” He scoffed, clouds undulating as he pivoted. Jasper finished her duty and leaned in the chair. “I wouldn’t care if you did.” “Understood.” He sniffed, smirking. “What’s your plan now?” A dire wolf might deem her smile a threatening show of fang. Buck loved this part. He adored them self-assured types. A pretty woman to step on his neck and make him beg for pain. The sweet dame who’d clutch his nuts and make him pray with reverence. She’d do it to ‘em. Buck believed this succubus to be kind, personable, and everything her kind wasn’t, but she had the beating pulse of a domineering demon. One he could trust to do him right when the occasion called. “I don’t want complications,” Jasper asserted, rising. She pressed forward and rounded the desk, seeking to devour Buck right on up. Her magic spilled and pooled between them. Fine florals, sweet nectars, and spice. He inhaled every note and became a glutton within seconds. She settled on his tongue, coiling around Nieema’s essence. The richness roused his old bone and wood. Buck inched closer as she grabbed his pipe. He watched, fascinated. Jasper pulled with ease and exhaled. Smoke billowed, framing her strong features and capped horns. The succubus pushed his most prized blend through her nostrils and said, “I’m at a point in my life where all I seek is peace. What y’all bring to the table is trouble, and I don’t want it. I don’t want anyone in my face. I don’t want to be paraded around by king and queen.” Buck shivered as their proximity forbade another breath. Breast to breast. Heaving and creaking under her sheer demonic weight. The air was thick with it. Lust, desire. It laved the skin. He growled and bore into her gaze. “I don’t want my business in the street.” “You got my word,” Buck rasped, drunk on her presence and scent. She hadn’t pulled a single succubus card, but he was ready to drop for it. Crawl and kneel for a crumb. She paused for a second hit, and squinted. “I don’t want expectations.” “There ain’t none.” “You aren’t easy to read,” Jasper said, grinning. “I find this to be both thrilling and terrifying. It’s sickening how undeniable your darkness is. Heavy, potent, you carry on the wind and strangle me. I’m choking on it even now. Don’t make me regret this, Buck.” “Never.” She placed his pipe on the desk and sat on it. “You may touch me now.” As if the soil demanded him to, he heeded her words and closed the distance in half a second. He locked an arm around her waist while his width forced her legs to part. Buck claimed Jasper’s mouth and demanded entrance. She gave. Allowing him the pleasure of exploration. Sweeter than morning dew and honey tree sap. He threaded claws through her short hair and gripped strands. Jasper responded in kind. Lighting him ablaze, she fisted the fabric at his back. A telling heat pulsated on his bricked dick. Succubi came on strong as hell and turned that ass into a fiend. He wanted to be seated within her. Deep and burning between her luscious thighs. He growled while she hissed from the belly. It was packed with deadly promise. Buck wanted her bite. He craved her fang-filled kiss and loved how she took to him. Desperation fueled their fire. Flint to parched tinder, he was ready for conflagration. “Hello?!” The holler ruined their moment. Buck rumbled, furious with the world. He snapped her head back, and she yanked herself free. A beat later, teeth and fangs penetrated bone. She’d struck him quicker than a pit snake. To cool his ass down and keep from nutting in his pants, Buck escaped her clutches. He stumbled into the shelf and patted at the bite wound on his shoulder. Blood seeped, staining his t-shirt. “You ain’t shit!” Buck yelled, rushing to pluck a tissue from the box. “It’s seven in the evening and you biting motha fuckas’. This—you know wh—I got something for you.” Jasper laughed, pleased with herself. She leveraged weight on her palms and shrugged. “Who says I want it?” “Don’t get cute.” “I’m not.” She slid to the floor and said, “I have plans with the wife.” “Mhm. Yeah. I bet you do.” She arched a brow while Buck blotted. He loved the sting, tug, and burn. Jasper had no idea how close she was to getting fucked out in this god damn office. He would have, but something about it ain’t sit right. Buck was going to give this demon more than a quickie in the back of his hardware shop. She deserved more than that, and he was more than happy to give her time if need be. “After you, ma’am. I got customers.” “We have customers.” Jasper winked in passing and exited on her high horse. “I want my first check on Friday.” “You can want it all you like, don’t mean you gon’ get it. The hiring process takes time.” “I need the money, Buck.” She spun about, walking backwards through stacks. “I’m serious.” “You want me to spot you a few—“ “No!” Jasper fussed about not taking handouts anymore. He truly didn’t give a fuck and wasn’t about to let the woman talk him down. She’d take his money and like it.
Happy Tuesday, I know it’s a day late, but bookie, the 9-to-5 is gnashing its teeth. Taking a chunk right out of my ass. Buuuut, we persist. We keep it moving and march forward. Just like Buck and Jasper! We have arrived! First kiss for both husband and wife. They’re cute as hell, and I’m still discovering new things about them. Jasper has no fight left, and I feel her because Buck is some fine shit. Big, bold, and dark. We love us a morally gray forest daddy, don’t we? I know I doooo. Anyway, I love how they’re not taking each other seriously while being nothing but themselves. Jasper isn’t one to fuck around, and Buck ain’t either. He loves to be handled with care, but make no mistake, he can and will make demands. I’m anxious to get these three alone. And the moment I publish this, it’s off to see about them. With that, I will bid you farewell. Until next week, folks, have a wonderful night. And don’t forget to drink more water, watch your favorite show, and get some rest! Byyyye.
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.
CW: Talk of domestic violence and attempted murder. There is a little rehashing, but not much. As always, if you have to skip this bit, please do. If you’d like a summary , feel free to let me know,
Catching Monroe Thornbill with his pants down wasn’t new. Nieema didn’t bat an eye as his favorite piece of arm candy hurried from their spot between his legs and scrambled to their feet. Nila was a whip-thin young vampire who smelled like vanilla bean and clove. Cheeks flush and lips glistening, they squared broad shoulders then bowed. “Majesty.” “Nila honey, how’s your mother?” “In good spirits… considering.” “Send my love.” “I will.” With that, they scurried off and closed the door behind them. A muffled thud gave Nieema the go-ahead. “You ain’t working too hard, I see.” “Girl, you know the shit I deal with down here. Please. I need something to take the edge off.” “You’re supposed to be working, not getting head on the clock like some raggedy, uncouth dungeon troll! I aughta tear your hide, Monroe.” The male scoffed and flipped his apricot, hip-length tresses. The boujee knowitall kept his hair flat and straight like an uppity Lightbridge faerie trollop. Nieema hated how the lovely shade made his dark skin glow. She’d never get away with orange. Copper, hell yeah. Clementine? Never. The man was prettier than she but not too bright. That’s why she was queen; Monroe being ten years older didn’t mean shit to their daddy. “Yeeees, I’ve missed you too, Nimmy. How are you? How is Buck? It’s been a while.” She softened hearing her nickname. “I’m serious, Roe, what kinda example are you setting?“ “Please, Mother lectures me enough.” He smoothed lapels and scooted forward, focusing on what appeared to be blueprints. “I don’t need this shit from you, too. Besides domestic quarrels, drunken fights, and blood lust fever, I have nothing else to do. We are good down here, Nimmy. I got shit covered.” “And what about beyond these walls?” Monroe’s brows creased as he pinned a quizzical gaze upon her. “What about it?” “There are demon hunters on the loose in Misthill.” “Bullshit!” “I wish it was.” Roe’s derisive laughter was a joy to hear. It meant he was now in a foul mood, and given how his red eyes flared, someone would pay for their crimes. “Do we have proof?” Roe asked. “A witness, first-hand account.” Nieema gestured to Jasper, and Roe glanced in her direction. He wasn’t the sort to know or keep demonic friends. Being burned rather badly by one turned him off completely, and every demon wore the face of his greatest regret. Nieema expected Roe to bristle at the sight of Jasper’s smile, but the exact opposite happened. He smirked and spoke directly to a demon for the first time in probably fifteen years. “RedMothStitch.” “Oh my goood,” Jasper whispered, eyes now on the floor. “Red what?” “She’s a gamer,” Roe supplied, still smirking. “My son follows you.” “You are?” Nieema asked. As Jasper’s cheeks darkened, she twiddled with her necklaces. Nieema wanted to soothe her somehow. She was an anxious dame, and for good reason. “Sometimes. It’s nothing big. A hobby. I only have two hundred followers and haven’t streamed since… well, you know.” “I’ve seen your tips, Red Stitch.” “I collect coin easy cause I’m pretty.” Roe’s arched brow spoke to his amusement. Nieema grunted, unwilling to watch him reel Jasper in. “We need to talk about this hunting business, Monroe.” “Indeed.” Nieema crossed the expansive office any staunch bureaucratic snake would love and dropped anchor on an uncomfortable leather sofa. Roe had old-world tastes, habits, and desires. He was obsessed with crystal decanters, aged scotch, and oil paintings. He didn’t own a phone or a television. Roe still read the paper and loved classical music. He was stuck in the past, but refused to ride a horse. As Jasper settled next to her, Monroe offered Nieema a warm glass of spiced blood. “Thank youuuu. This the cinnamon one?” Nieema asked, scenting clove, cardamom, and luxe spice. “Of course, imported from Southern Bruex.” “Ohhhh, them desert fairies know how to blend, don’t they?” “Always.” Roe sat in his favorite high-backed chair with its worn cushions and scratched frame, swirling his glass. “I apologize, ma’am. All I got is blood.” “It’s fine. But I prefer Jasper over ma’am.” “Noted.” Nieema sipped while Roe relaxed and Jasper fidgeted with her skirt. “So, tell me, what exactly happened and who tried to kill you?” By the time Jasper finished talking, Nieema wanted his head. Trevor Voarmont was a piece of shit. A controlling, manipulative bastard. In her sleep. He’d tried to snuff her flame during a peaceful slumber. How cruel and cowardly. The only reason Jasper survived was due to her biology. The human hadn’t worn his protection charm that night, and Jasper had careened into survival mode. After kicking his ass and scarring him for life, she vanished in a puff of smoke. This unique, involuntary fleeing response saved Jasper’s life. Nieema stared at the raging fire nestled into a massive hearth. It was for aesthetic purposes only, lacking both heat and sound. Seemed harmless in such a cozy state. Some folks might think it was now safe to touch. Wrong! Complacency was a disease. For many moons, people like Trevor watched their step around Nieema. They respected her rule and dared not cross Her Majesty The Raven Queen. But time and shit had softened her a bit. She didn’t wear armor, a cape, or wield a flaming axe anymore, but Nieema was still a fucking threat. As always, they’d learn the hard way. “Nimmy, this is… sensitive. As you know, the Voaremonts are not your everyday citizens. They have connections from here to Brasshorne. They own the largest shipping company in the world.” “They own half the rail line, too,” Jasper added. “This is why I just said fuck it. Trevor is the youngest of five brothers, but he is the smartest. His father won’t allow him to be—“ “No one allows me to do anything, my dear,” Nieema asserted. She dragged attention from Jasper to Roe. “I don’t give a right fuck who they are, what they own, or who is in their pocket. I am the queen of Ravensguard, and when I declare law, I expect all to follow. It is in our Right of Life creed. No one is to hunt on Ravensguard soil, ever. If convicted, it is punishable by death. Without exception.” White hot fury boiled in her veins and forced Nieema to her feet. She slammed her glass on the mantle, fixed her tie, and growled. The thought of anyone bearing arms and hunting turned her ferak, foregoing civility, More often than not, Nieema ruled from afar. She didn’t meddle in her people’s business and gave them the freedom to be whomever they wanted to be. She kept them fed and healthy. It was stressful and difficult, but she had a great team. They had a competent council and expendable funds for a thriving nation. But what she would not tolerate, under any circumstances, were hunters. Vermin, pigs, vile beasts. “When that god damn seal broke…” Nieema glared at a black and white family portrait. The Thornbill line was large, at one point, with well over one hundred members and six generations. There were only twenty-five of them left now. “When the human world went to shit, they decided hunting us for sport was a good idea. A lucrative business, their leaders said. We lived in peace with them for a millennium. When worlds collided, everything changed for the worse.” Nieema faced her brother and let it be known. “I will not allow it! I refused to have anyone hunted like game in the very land our family rebuilt. I will not stand by and let a faction rise. Not as I live and breathe. I swear to Desidion, I will kill every last one if need be. You gotta get ahead of this, Roe. Because they don’t want me on they ass, I’ll cut ‘em down to the quick.” Her brother lifted a hand and nodded. “I’ll go to Misthill and speak with the governor first. You sit tight til I get back. And I mean it, Nimmy. A war with the Voaremonts could bring Indigo Plains and Ravensguard to its knees.” Nieema huffed, shaking her head. “I don’t want a war, Monroe. I need to find whoever is killing the supernatural in my kingdom and send them to the gallows.” “Gallows?” Roe chuckled and crossed his legs. He watched Jasper and fiddled with his rings. “She says I live in the past.” “I don’t want to make trouble for anyone,” Jasper said, picking at her claws. “I only wanted a quiet, lonely life. Where Trevor would never find me. I don’t want anyone else getting involved.“ “You don’t worry about us,” Roe supplied. “We know how to disarm the masses without making a mess.” “I don’t want to create a mess either.” “You, didn’t,” Nieema stressed, heading for a fully stocked wet bar. She refilled her glass with Golden Barrel Batch blood and went on. “Trevor and his bitch ass raggedy friends did. Do you know them by name, his friends?” “Yeah.” “This is good,” said Roe. “We can stop them and their affiliates.” After a brief stir, Nieema returned to Jasper’s side. “These events would have reached me somehow. If not you, then somebody else. I got eyes everywhere. And Jasper, I’ll put money on you not being the first or the last victim.” The air around Jasper shifted, hardened. Nieema tasted her vexation and loved how sweet she smelled because of it. Syrup-soaked black cherries came to mind. Resolve sparkled within her ember gaze. “You’re right.” She nodded and perked. “You’re so god damn right, and I hadn’t even—shit, I never even stopped to think about the others. Trevor is middle-aged. There’s no telling how many have come before me and disappeared?” “Exactly,” Roe whispered. “Let’s do it. I want to take him down. Let’s kill the mother fucker.” Nieema laughed, set her glass on the end table, and matched Jasper’s stare. “Don’t worry, we will, but in the meantime, I need you to stick to my ribs. Stay close to me. Can you do that, dear?” “Depends on where we are. I like my space and solitude. But if we’re out? Exceptions can be made.” “Good, I like you by my side.” Jasper scoffed, her brow arched. “You are not clever, Mrs Sunside.” “That’s what they all say, until…” Nieema smirked while the succubus’s jaw ticked. “Roe?” “Yes, Nimmy.” “You wanna go bowling?” “You want an ass whooping tonight?” “Fuck you, tramp,” Nieema piped. She sought her brother’s wide smile and stood on ten toes. “I’ll wipe the floor with you. Hows ‘bout we get in a couple of games, winner buys lunch.” Jasper stood and rubbed her hands together. “I do love a free meal.” “Ha!” Roe grabbed his suit jacket and led the way. “You gon’ learn today, demon.”
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.”
