Chapter 34: A Ghoulish Meeting

Across town and underground, Nieema admired lofty stacks. She’d been in the castle’s library for a minute, reading shorts to kill time before her guests’ arrival. Not in a particularly romantic mood, she went for comedy. Slapstick, irreverent, or absurd. She wanted to laugh without thinking much.
Nieema didn’t like staying in the subterranean castle for long. It trudge up an unsavory batch of memories. Those darkened by the past and present. Nah, she would rather not dwell within these stone walls.
Though it wasn’t an ideal meeting place, she loved the grand, three-story library. It’d been her haven as a child and a stressed adult. She’d called it home once and had even fallen asleep on the same sofa she lounged upon now. Lemon wax, citrus oils, and parchment made her feel safe. It provided a hefty dose of nostalgia as well. Nieema smiled, recalling the early, adolescent years.
Her mother would read to her for hours. It was a fleeting time she remembered fondly.
Nieema settled with another book and relaxed on tufted velvet. She cracked the spine the moment her brother spoke.
“Come on down here, Your Grace.” Monroe beckoned, and she slapped the hardback shut. “I know you up there.”
“Don’t rush me, boy.”
Tossing the book, Nieema took her favorite form. She exploded into a chattering, squealing colony of bats. Her magic hummed, and psyche split. Twenty sets of eyes and ears. She saw all and heard every motha fucking thing going on in the castle.
The keep, kitchens, and chambers. To the dining hall and courtyard. Nothing was a secret when she grew wings and clawed feet.
Not only was this the quickest way to travel, but it tended to scare the shit out of everyone. Including the beady-eyed mayor who shrank and yelped.
Nieema circled him and swelled; she undulated. Swirling around the man until he cowered in his seat.
“Stop playing with the poor soul, Queen.”
She snickered and dropped into her full form. “Mayor Gloomfhut. It’s so nice you could be with us today.”
Preston Gloomfhut was a fifth-generation ghoul. Which meant he liked raw meat and looked like a god damn dead fish. He was the type who lived up to his name. A thin-lipped, sharp smile was enough. Nieema noted them shiny shoes and the gold signet ring on his sixth finger.
“I am sorry about that,” he said, crossing his legs. “The mayor’s job is never done, Your Majesty.”
Nieema unbuttoned her suit jacket and sat, adjacent to the uptight, sneaky ghoul.
“I know, but we needed to talk.” She gestured to the waiting fixin’s. “I had a little something prepared for you. Some raw cubes, aged cheeses, and dipping sauces. There’s also spiced blood. I know y’all can live without it, but I think it’s a fine treat.”
“No, no. I will not turn down a chance to have some premium blood.”
Monroe was more of a listener than a talker. Especially during times of political strain. This talk wasn’t a big hoopla, but he remained stoic, swirling his full glass.
He stood near the wet bar and sipped.
“Good god,” Gloomfhut rasped. “This is divine, Your Majesty. I can’t say I’ve ever had Moores Wind port. Can I uh, well, may I take a picture of the bottle?”
“Be my guest.”
Preston grinned, fishing his phone from his breast pocket. Those fingernails had seen better days. Blackened and chipped, Nieema grimaced at the filth. He was put together, but his complexion was off, and he hadn’t bathed in some time. Whatever the Mayor was into had him cracking and peeling on the surface.
Ghouls had come a ways thanks to human intervention. Yeah, they fucked humans, and so what? That wasn’t the problem at hand. And while his shook while taking the photo, Nieema clocked the threadbare scent of decay.
“Splendid,” Mayor Gloomfhut drawled, stashing his device. “Now, what is this about? I asked Monroe, but he was light on the details.”
“How well do you know the Voaremont’s?”
The ghoul canted his head and glanced at her brother. He crossed his legs once more and tugged cuffs. The question unsettled him. Nieema was shit outta luck reading his pulse, ghouls didn’t have a heartbeat.
They had working parts and a magic in their veins, but lacked a fully functioning heart.
“Of course, everyone knows them. They’re one of the wealthiest families on the planet.”
Nieema wasn’t about to play in this man’s face. She snapped up a glass of blood and swigged.
“Glad to see you think so highly of them,” Monroe added.
“What is this about?” Mayor Gloomfhut asked.
Nieema slammed her glass onto a rose gold platter. “What does my decree say about hunting?”
“It’s forbidden.”
“No.”
“It’s against the law.”
“Continue.”
“If anyone is caught hunting or conspiring with hunters, then the punishment is death.”
“Public execution,” Monroe corrected.
Nieema exhaled and smirked, but she was unamused. “Someone is hunting in my fucking city. Misthill. The one you are in charge of protecting and providing for. So, tell me, Mayor, how has this slipped by you?”
Bloodfhut stammered and hiked up. He shook his head vehemently. “Your Majesty, I would never—“
“Don’t fix yourself to lie up in here.” Nieema scooted forward, resting elbows on her knees. She peered into the man’s unnatural, averting gaze.
“I’m gonna need you to speak your next words with care. We brought you here, to this library because it is charmed. If you twist your tongue to lie to me, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
Mayor Gloomfhut screwed his eyes shut and coughed. His knuckles turned white as he gripped dark, Chellian wood.
“I can’t.”
“You can’t what?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Make me.”
“Your Majesty, the Voaremonts will kill me. I can’t—I can’t. You must know that it was never my intention. I trieeeed to stop them. I swear to the Greats, I did. But—but their father, the patriarch.”
Mayor Bloodfhut snapped his head up and stuttered. “He’s—he’s—honestly, I don’t know what he is, but I don’t think he’s human. And—AND—they’d kill me if—I ain’t saying they’re doing it. But I am not saying they aren’t.”
“You know why they’re doing it?”
“I have no idea.”
Nieema huffed. He hadn’t melted yet. This told her one thing: the mayor wasn’t lying yet. Though he’d chosen to omit.
“You not talking?” Nieema whispered, anger flaring.
“I can’t rat!”
“Okay, but you’ll be staying with us until you sing, Preston.”
“Your Majesty, if I could do any—“
“Speak.”
His head dropped, and his spine loosened. Gloomfhut sagged and blubbered.
“He’s got eyes on my whole family and me. If he finds out—maybe he already knows I’m here.” Preston coughed and wiped his mouth with a trembling hand. “Do whatever you want, but I can’t risk it.”
“Hank.”
Her knight appeared as a swirling mist and solidified behind Gloomfhut. “Let’s go, son.”
“How long have you been digging?” Nieema asked.
The mayor lacked a proper nose, but he scrunched it nonetheless. After threading waxy, four-knuckled fingers through his greasy hair, he sighed. “Four months.”
“You’ll get a year for grave robbing.”
“Fine. It was only for a while anyway. I’m so god damneed stressed. The Crack Mage Gang is fucking up the city and the Voaremont’s—whatever.”
“Take him,” Nieema demanded.
Hank was gentle with the slouched ghoul. Their limbs were prone to pop off like a scared gheko. After the duo vacated the library, Monroe cussed and jacked to his feet.
“This some buuuuullll shit I wasn’t prepared for, sis. You gotta give a god damn minute. Shit.”
Her brother headed for the bar and chuckled. “He don’t wanna rat, but he is one.”
“That’s fucked up, Roe. Come on now, they hate being called rats.”
“Well…”
Nieema plucked a few cubes of aged Gouda and smoked goat. Chewing and thinking, she only grew frustrated.
“I figured him involved, but not like this. The Voaremont’s aren’t taking authority seriously, even going so far as to threaten them. Hunting in my kingdom will not be tolerated!”
Nieema kicked the coffee table, knocking allat shit over. She wasn’t about to let this slide. Trevor had hurt Jasper. In ways Nieema couldn’t fix, and his entire family was running amok, hunting in Ravensguard.
“I don’t need Preston to tell me shit.” Nieema stared at stained glass panes and snarled. Blood-boiling rage caused her fangs to lengthen. “I know what they doing cause I believe Jasper. And if Trevor is at it, then I know his brothers are too; the only question is, who are they giving these parts to?”
“If they not keeping them as trophies.”
“Motha fucka,” Nieema muttered. On her feet, she adjusted her jacket and buttoned it. “I think it might be time to meet with the wealthy Voaremont brothers. And Roe, I want Peaches and Mookie on deck when we do it.”
“Understood.”
“Ain’t this a bitch.” Nieema headed for the exit and grumbled. “There are hunters living and breathing in my town. Never thought I’d see the night.”

Happyyyyy Monday, and good evening, y’all. I hope everyone had a great weekend! You’re in recovery mode now, I know. Fourteen hot dogs and a barrel’s worth of soda’ll fuck you up good in your late thirties. Annnyhoo, here we are! Nieema has confronted the mayor, and I tell you what, she ain’t happy. The Voaremonts’ are a hunting family, and she knows this. Most of the world knows this, but they have their hands in everything. She didn’t need a gravedigging ghoul to tell her, but his omission was enough. So! We shall see where this takes us in the coming chapters. Remider, you and me find shit out TOGETHER! I am a proud panster and love a challenge.
I have been struggling, though, y’all. Keeping this light and easy has been rough. I’m trying not to be heavyhanded with darker themes (I LOVE DARKNESS). That’s not what Patchwork is about, and I will keep it as such until the very end of season one. I do have an ending in mind, but who knows if it’ll go my way. HEAs are a vow, but how do we get there? Who knows.
Soooo, with this week done, I want to bid you farewell, bookie. Until next time, stay hydrated, stay cool, and stay outta folks’ business. Thank you so much for stopping by. You’re a grand human. Byyyyyeee.

Chapter 33: Potent Magics

Five business days and Jasper was back to the basics. Work and commissions. From five to twelve, she held the store down with Cherry. Her one and only co-worker was a delightful woman with two kids and a school schedule. She was busy and about her money. Her name was apt, considering her favorite color was red. She said folks thought it was corny most days, but Jasper was biased. Being into red and a beautiful shade of carmine, she saw no issue with it.
Cherry left her to the norm. Customers who never needed help and window shoppers. The job was easy as hell and a quick way to make some doe. With next to nothing in her account, Jasper was giddy when Buck texted her about direct deposit things. She’d get a few dollars by next Friday.
Settling into a routine, Jasper was happier than she’d been in a while. After spending time with Nieema, she needed a minute alone. It’d been too long, and her body was out of practice. Her power and will wanted to suck down every drop of Nieema’s soul.
The urge to devour her bit by delicious bit was terrifying. Jasper could’ve killed the poor woman. With her succubus nature showing out, she decided on space and time. Distance made her grow fonder. It had an old demon yearning at six in the morning with a hand between her thighs.
Jasper had texted the Queen. To say hello, to remind her that yes, she was still here. Jasper was available and uncomplicated; desperate.
Her smile above and below was sweeter than honeydew.
With nothing much to do, she drifted. Daydreams consumed minutes and hours. Soaked in pomegranate red and plum purple. The vision of taking her once again was all-consuming.
And to think, Jasper hadn’t even touched Buck.
“Fuck.”
“My bananana pudding will fix whatever has you cussing like that.”
Jasper popped forward in her chair and dropped her boots to the floor. She stood as a gorgeous woman with pastel pink hair sashayed forward.
She was light on her feet and suffocating. Her sugar-coated soul was cloying, tacky. Jasper loved her already and became enamored as she placed a dish of banana pudding on the counter.
“You must be Maggie,” Jasper met the woman halfway and extended a palm. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Silly woman. We hug here.”
Jasper beamed, welcoming a comforting embrace. She smelled of coco butter, mangos, clementines, and brown sugar. She was a goddess and her soft pats were lovely. Jasper didn’t want to let go as goodness and warmth surrounded her.
“There we are,” Maggie held Jasper at arm’s length. “You’re precious, honey.”
“You are about to make me cry.”
“Sometimes a shedding is what we need.”
The woman shrugged and wagged a finger. “Youuuu, are in for a treat. I added more cookies than bananas.”
“How could you possibly—“
“There ain’t much I don’t know. How’s that charm working?”
Jasper cleared her throat and checked the strange, glowing rock hanging above the door. It pulsed with potent abilities. Metallic and sour, it left a bad taste in her mouth.
“Good, I’m guessing. I haven’t seen him.”
“That means it’s working. But—“
“I know, Buck said I can’t leave the store until my ride is here.”
“You don’t have a car?”
“It’s busted at the moment.”
Maggie twirled, her colorful corset dress fluttering. She was a splash of whimsy and delicate on the eyes. An older woman, perhaps, but her spirit and soul were youthful.
Two French braids framed her heart-shaped face and full cheeks. Beads studded her pink and silver tresses while rose gold glittered.
“I know who can help you with that.” Maggie stared out the window and tapped the glass with a long, painted nail. Sparks pinged on the glass as she hummed. “Tre. My nephew can handle anything under the hood of a car. Leave it to him, he’ll have your lemon up and running in two hours.”
Jasper shook her head and checked on the banana pudding. The plastic lid did nothing to hide all that sexy. Whipped cream, nilla wafers, and thick pudding.
She grunted, stroking her chin. “I might have to get his card or something.”
“I’ll give you his phone number.” Maggie pivoted and wriggled fingers festooned with gemstones. “Anyway, I came by cause I wanted to give you this.”
She snapped fingers and a bracelet dropped from the ceiling. Jasper winced and squinted, shocked and in awe.
“What in the Undervell?”
“Don’t overthink it. Huh.” Maggie offered a gold Cuban link. “And never you mind about the price. This piece has been in the back of my sock drawer for years. Can’t remember where I got it. Brasshorne maybe. No. Foster Pier? No. Well, anyway, it’s yours now.”
Jasper accepted the gift and shuddered as power weaved through vein and bone.
“What is this? I can feel its strength.” Jasper studied the links, searching for proof. “This is another magical piece.”
Maggie giggled and nodded. “Yes, honey. Pure, untouched magic. My own spell and charm. I want you to wear this, and don’t you dare remove it.”
As told, Jasper unlatched and slapped the cool gold onto her wrist and clasped it. The gold number complemented her other jewels.
“Thank you, Maggie.” Jasper cleared her throat, unsure of what to say. “Your whole family is an enigma. I’ve never met anyone so kind or giving. After living in Misthill, I assumed most earth dwellers were no better than nightmare demons.”
“It can seem that way when you’re over there in the big ol’ city. They got too much going on for me. Even Carver. Shit, my late husband looooved to travel, and because I loved him, I followed on behind his busy self. I wasn’t flying in no airbus, though.”
Maggie was a jubilant woman, but she carried sorrow on her back. Whomever her husband was, she missed him dearly.
“Well, if you need anything from me, you come running. My place is only a hop and skip from yours. I live on the ranch.”
“Buck said something about that.”
“Papa Buck say a lot. Old rooster.”
Jasper laughed as the bell tinkled. Palison, the pretty half-brother, entered and stalled. He sniffed the air and scowled.
“Witch!”
Maggie turned her nose up and whipped a braid over her shoulder. “And who the fuck is you?! Don’t catch an ass whippin’, boy. You don’t greet people like that. Much more, you don’t piss off a powerful mage. I’ll slap the taste outcha’ mouth, swamp crawler.”
Maggie rolled her eyes and grinned at Jasper. “Don’t you waste a bite of that pudding, now. And remember, never take that off. It’ll keep your past at bay and keep your foes from finding you.”
“Thank you, again, Maggie.”
“Nonsense. I’ll see you soon.”
Her aura and soul had solidified in real time. The exchange was magnificent, and Palison was a man scandalized. Uncertain, furious, curious, and aroused. He watched her grumble out of the door and sneered.
Jasper glowered and knocked on the counter. “Hello?”
Palison inhaled and snapped to attention. “Is Buck around?”
“Nah.”
“Shit.”
“Why didn’t you call him?”
“What makes you think I have his number?”
“Good point.”
He spun and high-tailed it out of the store without so much as a thank you.
“What an asshole.” Jasper hit a double-take and nodded. “Im’a need some privacy for this.”
She rubbed her hands together and hustled for the break room in search of the biggest spoon she could find.

Chapter 32: Freaks and Creeps

“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.”

Chapter 31: Fangs and Hunger Pangs

Nieema wanted whatever the succubus wanted to give. And yes, she wanted that god damn tail. She salivated and flexed below the waist. Her pussy seeking company, someone to strangle and hold. Her tapered tail was dangerous for some and even had poisonous barbs, but now it flicked with sensual promise. It was a fat, prehensile demon with telling knots and bumps Jasper had manifested for this special occasion.
“Yes,” Nieema rasped.
She tracked its slow sweeping motion and nodded. “Yeah, I want you to put in and don’t stop.”
“Look at you, so greedy for it.”
Nieema hissed and grasped Jasper’s face, plunging into another kiss. She rocked against her pliant, buoyant form and moaned, tasting every note. Buck, Jasper, and even her own water. It spurred her into movement. Nieema rolled, more than ready to bounce and ride.
Jasper clung to her, claws catching on her ass. The tiny pricks of pain added to a new, yet familiar brand of euphoria.
Desperate, she severed their kiss and clutched Jasper’s horns. The woman was flushed. Purpled cheeks and gold dust painted her red complexion. It was beautiful, gorgeous, and quite the portrait Nieema committed to memory but hoped to see for a while longer.
“Talking won’t get you anywhere nice, demon. You can either fuck me this instant or see yourself out.”
Wolfish and sharp-edged, her smile spoke volumes. It was clear she wasn’t amused. From a striking molten ocher to hot iron, her eyes flared.
“You got too much bass in your voice, Your Majesty.”
“And you, are working my last nerve, woman! I need you to fu-fuck!”
Speared and impaled. Nieema wailed, grasping Jasper’s smooth horns. She groaned as heat radiated and seeped; spread.

Heat tackled Nieema as Jasper’s tail twisted and coiled. “Ooooo shhhhhhit.” Nieema gasped; heat and lust encapsulated them. Sweet flames of pleasure licked at her slick skin and teased.
Jasper pushed and stretched with abandon. Every knot and inch waged war against her G-spot. Nieema tossed her head back and hissed.
“Ohmyfates. You so good.” Hot, scorching lips fell upon her shoulder and neck. “Damn, girl.”
The succubus growled and purred. “I knew that pussy was good.”
Nieema bucked with her quickening motion. She keened, enjoying the slip and melody. Their bodies connected, and Nieema consumed her whole. She took her thickness and rolled on it.
With each deep dive, she whimpered. As focus waned and eyes escaped to the back of her head, the world vanished.
Magic and succubi wiles traced every curve of her body. It twined with her senses and laved over her.
As if she’d been taken by five, Nieema registered hands, lips, and fingers. In her ass, on the clit, and pinching nipples. Claws raked her back as Jasper claimed her mouth.
Her tongue slick and hot, thickened. She was transported to another plane of fiery desire. Nieema sucked on her and rode it out.
The demoness lacked decorum and shit. She was unkind inside. Jasper hemmed Nieema up quick. Using her tail for the worst, she arrived with swift punches. Her thrusts were lethal and strong, causing Nieema to lose all wits.
She held onto the woman’s horns and took it on the chin. Jasper beat her down and delved into her pussy. She made it talk back and bite. Desperate, Nieema growled and chased her withdrawal.
Jasper slapped her ass and made Nieema suck her down. She choked on it until the woman let her breathe.
“Yesss!” Nieema roared and panted, bouncing on it like she’d never been fucked a night in her life. “Shit, Jasper. God damn youuuuu…”
She tasted her arousal and mewled as Jasper clenched her throat. The demoness heaved and hugged Nieema close.
“Give me what I want, Nieema,” Jasper said, voice trembling. She worked her tail and demanded action. “You will come for me. Show me them fangs, lover!”
Nieema quaked and made her ass clap. She tussled with her thirst and urge to nut.
“Ohhhhhshiiiit. Oooodamnnnit.”
“Let me see you break, Your Majesty.”
Buck scented smoke spilled from Jasper’s lips and provoked Nieema’s hunger. She inhaled, wanting every dose she offered. Her need to feed overlapped with a painful pang to cum.
“Ffffff—uck! Tear that shit up, girl.” Nieema bit her bottom lip, drawing blood. She clasped them horns and tensed as Jasper’s monstrous magic galvanized within.
Desire, pleasure, and lust clashed with her own. It swelled and overwhelmed.
Nieema ruptured. Two-fold. She’d loosened, convulsing, shivering. Bursts of passion gushed, coating the succubi’s tail and thighs.
Jasper bellowed, calling Nieema by name. She locked arms around her and chuckled. The guttural sound was too much for her delicate sensibilities. Nieema snapped Jasper’s head to the left and begged.
“Let me feed. Pleeeease. Let me have your precious essence before you depart.”
“As you wish,” Jasper whispered.
Hot and cloying, her blood rushed. Fang deep, Nieema took her and gulped. She purred at her throat and warmed as the gorgeous succubus nourished her once again.
More than sated, Nieema licked wounds closed and kissed each mark. “Thank you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
Nieema swallowed, loving how her blood and pussy lingered. “I don’t know about that.”
She met Jasper in the eyes and smiled. They were back to their normal shade. Goldenrod amber. Sweet as her natural nectar, she grinned.
“Now I see why he don’t play about you.”
Nieema giggled and sighed, cradling Jasper’s full cheeks. “I can cook too, you know. And, I’m talented, smart, courageous, and fine as hell. There is more to me than my perfect pussy.”
“You are all of that and more, I’m sure.”
Nieema sniffed and dropped hands. “You cute. I’d tell you to keep talking, but I need a shower. How about you join—“
“I can’t.”
Nieema was the one who’d laid everything bare. On the table, clear for her to see. Full transparency. She’d erected boundaries not even an hour ago, and yet, she wanted to obliterate them.
Nieema didn’t want Jasper to leave so soon, but had no choice. They were here for the vibes and shit. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Okay, yeah. Of course.”
Nieema cleared her throat and figured herself foolish. Jasper was far from the first woman they’d met and fucked. And she wouldn’t be the last. Ignoring the weird prick in her chest, Nieema hopped off the woman.
Palm open and outstretched, Nieema called her house robe. After donning satin, she snatched up the woman’s clothes. Jasper had twisted and wrapped her tail. Tucked high and out of sight around her thigh. Nieema hated it and wanted to know why a succubus born in hell was ashamed of such a beautiful part of herself. It definitely had something to do with Trevor.
Nieema forced a smile and handed the articles over.
“Thanks again, Nieema. You woke this old succubus up.”
“Happy to help.”
Sliding into them tight shorts, Jasper beamed. Fangs and a telling gleam in her eyes was quite a portrait. “I bet.”
“You fed well, I take?” Nieema asked, chin lifted.
“Indeed.” She loomed. The succubus snickered and stole a kiss. One more and she was gone. The door clicked, and Nieema grunted. “She a good one. Different. Her power is beyond any we’ve had. I thought she was gon’ tear me in half. Whew, chile. Look at you, freaky ass.”
Buck slumped in his chair. Butt ass naked, dick on limp and sullied by his own hand. Nieema cackled at the sight. “Bring your ass on, Moss Balls, let’s get cleaned up.”
“I couldn’t help it, you know how I get watching.”
“Hm. I’m sure you had quite the show.”
“Y’all was rocking steady, baby.” He high whistled, following her into the bathroom. “And she is sumn’ else. God damn, I wanna tackle allat jelly.”
“Looks like you gotta be patient.” Nieema turned on the shower and stripped.
“She just don’t know how good it’s gonna be with her teasing me like this.”
“I envy the woman,” she said, twirling on her toes. Nieema hugged her husband and kissed his hair-dusted chest. “In the meantime, you want me to scratch that itch for you?”
“You damn straight. Come here and gimmie that suga’!”
His love put the sun to shame; it brightened him. Nieema would never grow old or tired of his obsession. He was a good man who loved his woman, and Nieema was the luckiest vampire in the world to have snagged the very best Fate had to offer.

Listen, let me tell y’all something, I didn’t want them to fuck yet. I really didn’t. I wanted to make them wait another chapter or two. But Jasper and Nieema wanted this to go their way. I kept fighting it, but in the end, they won! And Nieema, the poor woman, she’s enamored. I can’t blame her. And yo, the idea of Buck being a shameless Cuck is so funny and thrilling. I love him with my whole heart.
He’s gonna crack that succubus wide open. I know it. I have an idea how and when this will happen…But I hope y’all love monster romances.
Anyway, thank you so much for being here. I couldn’t do this without y’all. Have a lovely week and HYDRATE! Byyyeee, Bookie!

Chapter 17: Blushing and Brews

Mead, bards, and a lovely maiden by the name of Junis. This moment mimicked theirs. It was strange to witness, and Nieema sat in awe. Four hundred years prior, she’d met a mischievous dark fairy boy in a tavern much like Mio’s. They had talked for hours about nothing, and everything then shared a bed with Junis, of course.
Nieema hadn’t believed in love at first sight. She’d never been one to dream of white dresses and children.
It wasn’t for her…until he laughed at a silly joke. The beautiful dishwasher with his black pine hair and sun-soaked sepia skin warmed her from the inside. But Nieema was off to war. She’d come in, broody and anxious, set to drown her sorrows in honey wine. He, changed her plans with a single quip. Though it’d be some years, centuries before she’d see him again, Nieema knew then she’d marry a humble dishwasher.
Buck had left Jasper stunned as well. His quick tongue and devilish smile had yanked her right on up. Nieema was sure she shared the same slack-jawed expression after Buck had kissed her that first night.
Jasper was cooked, done for, and she didn’t even know it.
“You, punched Trevor Voaremont?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t approve,” Nieema added as the fries arrived. “Thank you, baby. Hol’ on, Irene. Can you get Auntie a glass of ice? You know, the chunky kind.”
“You and that damn I…”
Irene rolled eyes and went to handle another table before fetching that ice. Nieema pinched a fry and dipped it in the cheese, then the ranch.
“Nasty,” Jasper muttered. “Pick one.”
“Before you knock it, why don’t you try it.“
“No thank you,” Jasper snipped. She grabbed a few fries and ate them dry like a god damn heathen. “Salt and pepper is all I need.”
“Classless.”
“Buckley Sunside, I told you—“
“You said not to cause a mess, I didn’t. But I had to do something, Nimmy. Shit. He was two seconds from walking up on y’all.”
Jasper coughed until her face purpled. Nieema shoved a glass of water at the woman.
“Drink it and calm down, dear.”
The succubus did as Nieema asked and ate a couple more fries. The unsavory situation was ‘bout to ruin Nieema’s appetite yet again. She nibbled, and with each deliberate chew, she ruminated. Stewing, really. This motha fucka would catch his death creeping about Indigo Plains like the slithering piece of shit he was.
“So, that’s when you punched him?”
Buck gave a curt nod and sipped his brew.
Nieema thought Jasper might swoon on the spot with how she smiled.
“Wow. He is watching me then.”
“I told you he was. Buuuut, it’s like I said, you’re safe. I won’t let him come near you.”
Jasper sprinkled too much salt on the second batch of fries and cleared her throat. “I wish I wasn’t so scared of this asshole. He’s a feeble human with twenty-twenty-five good years left. Some demons might call me a coward and snatch my rank.”
Nieema recoiled and scoffed. “Rank?”
“As in…” Buck was surprised as Nieema. “You was in the military?”
“No. I escaped before my boots hit the ground. No way in Undervell or any other hell would I be forced to fight in a war that started before I was even born. My father makes certain his children serve the Undervell cause. From birth, we are taught to fight, to defend our house.
“Kit, is an ass kisser. He’s older than me and wouldn’t dare defy Carriont. Me? Shiiiit. I ran. Fuck no. Not me. I’ll make my own way.”
Buck chuckled and dipped his fries in the cheese while Nieema crunched on ice. She worked on two mouthfuls and observed.
“So, you know how to box?” Nieema asked.
“I can do more than that, but I refuse. It means leaning into my father’s teachings. Being who he wanted me to be. I avoid confrontation at all costs. Someone will die fucking with me, and I’d rather not take a life. It’s bad business.”
“Indeed,” Nieema replied.
As an ex-general, she understood. After serving the rebellion for many moons, Nieema never wanted her kids or grandchildren anywhere near the battle line. War was brutal and changed people. The damage was irreparable. Though she’d left the trenches well over fifty years ago, nightmares still slipped through the cracks, threatening to do her in.
Jasper evaded eye contact because she was a proud woman. Nieema respected it and her aversion to pity. Buck’s declaration touched her somewhere beneath skin and bone. As an old vampire, Nieema possessed the innate ability to read people. From the hop of their pulse, to the rapid beating heart, and overworked lungs. Jasper was a well of knowledge as she swallowed and blinked, feigning nonchalance and swagger.
“Not too many have come to my defense without wanting something in return. My older sister and Kit aside, no one has cared enough. This isn’t an opening to talk about feelings and shit, but thank you. I’ve seen the worst of things living in Undervell. I’m not spooked easily, but Trevor and this last year…”
Jasper chuckled and stuffed fries between her curved fangs.
“I don’t find this amusing,” Nieema intoned. “Why make light of it?”
“You had to have live through it to understand.”
Silence stretched until Irene slammed a glass on the table. Nieema beamed up at her niece. “Thank you, baby, can—”
“Auntie, I got ten tables. This is not your house.”
“I am your queen,”
Irene laughed and flapped a hand. “Your food’s coming out soon. I don’t got time.”
“Go’on, baby. But fix your damn face. Always frowning.”
The little girl snickered and winked at Jasper. Nieema snapped fingers and grunted. “Unuh, not over here.”
She departed with a swirl and deliberate step.
“What about your parents?” Buck asked, choosing the wrong subject. Nieema did not want to talk about that shit. “Where are they? You mentioned kingdoms and whatnot. Where’s your mother?”
“He’s very nosy,” Jasper looked to Nieema and cocked a brow.
“This ain’t nothing.”
“My mother? I don’t know where she is. Somewhere in the five kingdoms. I have no idea. She didn’t bond well with my father and wanted nothing to do with me because of it.”
Nieema sucked teeth and glared at her husband. Why did he have to go there? He never knew when to shut right the fuck up. And now, he glowered at a basket of fries. No doubt the parallels in their story made an impact. Nieema unbuttoned her suit jacket and sighed.
Her old man’s craggy wound throbbed within her own chest. She rubbed the ache, and he patted her thigh.
“It’s okay, beloved. I’m good.”
“Bullshit,” Jasper spat. “You fell into an ocean of sorrow just now. Your empathy almost strangled me. What—never mind. It’s not my business.”
Nieema didn’t approve of her attitude. Jasper closed up shop and threw them mental bolts. Her false aloofness and fight would do little in this situation. It was futile. Something in the blood and body.
Simmering in her soul beckoned them. Not just Nieema or Buck, but both. As one. They felt its caress. The familiar magnetism and pull piqued more than curiosity.
This was worth patience.
Nieema would wait for the demon. In the end, Jasper would be a woman possessed, writhing and pleading like the rest.
“So, what? Is this an open marriage or…”
“That’s more like it,” Buck said, smiling like a damn fool. “Yes, open and seeking a third.”
“For what?” Jasper asked, going in for more fries. “Fun, pleasure, a good time, one night?”
Nieema attacked her second glass of ice and let Buck hold the floor because if she spoke.
“Whatever is necessary in the moment. We take all with open arms and legs. We’re happily married and mated, but we ain’t monogamous. Never have been. It was clear from the moment we met.”
“Why aren’t you satisfied with each other?”
“Ha!” Nieema slammed her glass and crunched before speaking. “Listen here, deary. It’s not about satisfaction or happiness, though. It’s about living and leaning into our sexuality. We love and welcome any and all genders. I love exploring new bodies, new blood, and giving pleasure to those seeking it.
“Make no mistake, I love my husband with every fiber of my being, but we have desires as individuals. I love women too damn much, and he is an unapologetic tea bagger. If this man don’t suck dick in the next three months, he’ll get tetchy.”
“Silicone is coo’ and everything, ya know? But I like how my hands look choking a chubby six-incher with ridges. Slap it on my tongue, play with it.” Buck swigged his beer, burped, and said, “Plus, I like to swal—”
“Okay!” Jasper waved hands and snatched her water as their plates arrived. “Thank god. Holy shit.”
“Coming in hot,” Irene said, delivering their meal. “Extra spicy twenty-piece for my best freeen.” She winked at Jasper again.
“Thank you so much, this looks and smells divine.”
The saucy succubus lingered on the last bit and matched Irene’s flirtatious smile.
“Unc, here’s your short ribs. And here, Auntie, I want fifty percent gratuity.”
“You lost ya damn mind, chile.”
“Fifty!”
“Can you get Uncle a little extra cheese? Thank you sweet pea. Imma double that tip.”
Irene rolled her eyes before departing like an angry, bored teenager.
“Awww, Auntie love herrrr.” Nieema nodded and watched her grown niece tend to patrons with glee. “She so sweet. Irene is the youngest. So she spoiled, you know. My brother can’t tell her no. He didn’t even want her to work. Lil. Princess.”
“The way you soften when gushing about your family is adorable.”
Nieema dropped her smile and picked up her fork. “Family means everything to me. Everything I do is for them.”
“I can see that.”
Jasper went for her wings, and Nieema dragged a crusty wedge of sourdough through braised marrow. It was gelatinous, grainy, and fabulous. If not the patties, then marrow was her go-to. When Buck’s short ribs arrived, they cut the long chatter and focused on their meal.
Per usual, Milo put his whole god damn foot up in the bone marrow and seasoned the hell out of his famous fried cabbage. Fat back bacon and hot sauce elevated every bite. Nieema didn’t need solids, starch or carbs, but she wasn’t about to turn them down. Why should she deny herself this moment of bliss? Granted, she couldn’t eat a lot, but she ate enough.
Fat and sugar in the blood gave her ample hips, luscious thighs, and a belly Buck loved more than her tiddies.
“I tell you what,” Buck said, rubbing his bulging stomach. “I can’t touch nothing else. Them tea cakes will have to wait until tomorrow. Sarah dropped them off. Said they were for Friday’s tea party, but I was gonna sample some, naturally.”
“I figured you were joking about that,” Jasper said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Tea parties? What, do you plan them or something?”
“Yes I do, and what of it?” Buck tweaked a brow, and Nieema smirked, loving his prideful side. “Everybody got a hobby, mine is gardening and tea.”
Jasper erupted in tinkling laughter. It was bright and melodic. Nieema enjoyed her elated display far too much.
“You two,” the demoness gestured between them with a fork, “you’re walking contradictions.”
“Says who?”
“You’re a cowboy, Buck. Let’s not forget your loud, sexy car and the way you carry yourself. Whatever masculinity is, you possess it. Since when has tea brewing and tea cakes ever been considered masculine?”
Nieema canted her head and hummed. “You must unlearn whatever teachings go on down in Undervell, dear. Brewing and making tea are not gender-specific, and I find it odd to attach male or female, feminine or masculine to such things. It is rather close-minded and toxic.
“Buck is a person, not male or female, a person who enjoys tea parties. Where we are from, everyone takes tea rather seriously. They consider him a brew master of sorts. Everyone looks forward to his parties. They are invite-only and the reservation list is long. Some folks been waiting years to attend.”
The woman contemplated, eyes fixed upon her cake. She chewed and nodded, drinking her fizzy pop.
“You’re right,” Jasper muttered. “You are absolutely right. Buck, I apologize. We aren’t so tight in the ass about sexuality, obviously, but gender roles aren’t up for debate. You can be whoever you want to be, as long as it is male, female, or interbred. You must fall into one of those categories. Each gender serves a purpose in Undervell. Three boxes, no room for discussion.”
“Shiiiiid, don’t tell the Lurma peoples that. Them folks who live up there on Keyhold? They have ten genders and no roles to be had.”
“I’d like to meet them,” Jasper said, cutting into that monstrous four-layer cake. Nieema had never finished a slice and probably never would. “Can I?”
Nieema grimaced and tipped her glass of ice. “Don’t think so. The only person who speaks to Lurma is Old Man Joyner. He barters with them.”
“Mmm. The hermit?”
“Yup.”
Buck groaned aloud and pulled out his wallet, thumbing through plastic. “Don’t know about yall, but I’m ready to kick back. I got a long day tomorrow at the store. Bright and early. Huh, my treat.”
Jasper hacked into her second piece and eyed the man. “Who said I’d offer to pay anyway?”
“You funny now, Jasper. Keep it up.”
Nieema cackled, slapped her husband’s shoulder, and kissed him flat on the mouth. He was a man of his word, and they had that in common. Much like Nieema, Buck preferred his way or none. They butted heads, but he was easily subdued. The dark fae stood no chance against her wily ass, and Jasper didn’t either. It was only a matter of time before the succubus pleaded for mercy.
Until then, patience was key.

Chapter 16: Futile Efforts

CW: Anxiety from recalling past trauma.

“You got one more chance!” Nieema yelled, standing at her husband’s side. “Better make it count.”
They were smug and beautiful. Two masterpieces. Two gods sent to smite Jasper.
A tiebreaker was needed here. Buck was a man about his business and bowled like a professional. Hell, perhaps he was. Jasper wouldn’t know, because she didn’t know them. They were still strangers. Intense and Irresistible strangers who had crept into her dreams.
Jasper exhaled, pinned her sights on the three holes. She hoped upon some magical star and prayed to the undergods. Jasper didn’t want to give him a chance. It was in her nature to be a tease, to poke and knead weaknesses. Anything that delivered optimal nutrition, she went for it.
And the ounce of lust swirling from Buck at the moment made her dizzy. The Sunsides were powerful on their own. As individuals, their potent desires had become a problem within days. Together? Jasper was full. She was satisfied yet, starved for more.
“Get it over with, dear,” Nieema said, her chin too goddamn high.
“Even if I lose, that doesn’t mean you win, Nieema.”
“Take your turn, Jasper,” the vampire demanded.
“Fine.”
Without delay, Jasper plucked her ball and stepped to the line. Neon lights, music, and the smell of food were strong distractions. She shook nerves, cocked back, and released. The heaviest ball weighed nothing as it rolled.
Jasper held her breath and gripped her chains. The orb inched to the right. She cussed as pins teetered, leaned, and toppled.
“Ghat damn!” Buck shouted. “What a game. You played well, girl! I gotta hand it to you.”
Jasper sighed and threw her head back, peering at the ceiling. “I don’t enjoy fancy food.”
He laughed like a man pleased with himself. “Glad we on the same page about that.”
“I tried to tell you,” Roe cut in. “Don’t bet the Sunsides. You didn’t listen. I can’t save you now, child.”
Jasper adored Monroe. He was a suave two-stepper with impeccable fashion sense. There was a frenetic air about him, but she had come to find that it was a vampire thing. They were dark and daring. She liked it on him and Nieema.
Buck, on the other hand, was different. Nieema’s raven-hued soul was threatening, sensuous, and sultry; her betrothed was terrifying. Even as Jasper studied her rainbow polish, his inky gaze seared her flesh.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Roe snapped up his long woolen coat and headed out, “I have a train to catch.”
“You don’t want to get a bite with us?” Jasper asked.
“I eat solids twice a week and never on Fridays. Have a good evenin’, y’all.”
As Monroe hugged his siblings, Jasper went to retrieve her shoes. She didn’t wait around for the couple to gloat. After a quick trade with a fairy named Kay, she slipped into her sandals and headed for the exit.
“Jasper,” Nieema warned. “What did I say earlier?”
“Riiiight, I must stick with my babysitter at all times.”
“It’s for your protection.”
Jasper might have pouted and stomped her foot if not for Buck’s serious tone. They were kind enough to be the barrier between her and Trevor’s crazy ass. It was an undeserved service, and Jasper felt like an asshole for griping.
“This is going to take some getting used to.”
“Understandable,” Nieema said, waiting for her husband to open the door. He did so with a flourish. “This same treatment grated against my hide at one point. So, just know, how you feel is not lost on me. After you.”
Muggy summer air was better than the Sunsides’ shared eau de and fried food. She inhaled a steady breath and exhaled the ounce of lingering irritation.
“Since I get to choose the spot, I want the nearest bar. It’s been a minute since I had a cold one.”
“Perfect!”
Buck clapped once and scanned the parking lot as they started walking. His mood simmered for a tick, fading from a playful rouge to a concerned gray.
“What’s the matter?” Jasper inquired.
“Hm?”
“You’re miffed about something.”
“Tell you after a beer.”
Nieema slapped Buck’s arm. “What in the devil is goin’ on? I could tell the moment we hit the door. You actin’ like you done somethin’, Buckley.”
“Woman—“
“Oh, I just know you ain’t fixin’ to lie to my face.”
“He is.”
Buck recoiled and canted his head. “Damn, I don’t believe she was talking to you, ma’am.”
“I don’t need permission to speak.”
Nieema whooped and nodded. “You’re damn right you don’t. Now come on, I want some wings. Buck, when we sit down, you got ninety seconds to spill them baked beans or swear on D—“
“Okayyy! Hush now, unhinged dame.”
“I’ll show you unhinged, moss balls.”
“Don’t get me started, you vintage bag uh bones. Moss balls? You like to hold these hairy balls in your sleep. That’s weirdo shit, Nieema!”
Jasper chuckled at their delightful and entertaining bicker fest. Buck was always two steps behind Nieema in terms of wit. But he put up a good fight, and the vampire let him win with a stolen kiss. One Nieema tried to dodge. Their sweet nothing and affection were bubbly, refreshing, and easier to digest. Carnal desire and love were a four-course meal. Jasper always needed a nap afterward.
Leaving vehicles behind, they strolled onward, down a busy street. Most waved in passing or tipped hats. Some stopped to talk and introduce themselves. Everyone greeted Nieema in some fashion, and now, Jasper knew why. She was queen of Ravensguard—royalty: a celebrity.
The thought caused Jasper to have a minor panic attack on their way to the nearest dive bar. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek and stifled a groan. Jasper had just escaped a life of status. Twice! She knew what came with the title of queen, king, or noble. It meant traveling, social and class wars. Eyes on you at all times and expectations.
Those surrounding the king must act in a certain manner. Carry themselves differently, speak differently, and look the part of an ass kisser.
In Jasper’s case, she was expected to become a soldier and a concubine until instructed otherwise. Succubi in Undervell were bargaining chips to be won and used. Though, as Carriont’s daughter, she was to be a sword or an object married off to a wealthy demonic sire. Another unfortunate soul who was told when to eat, sleep, and shit!
“Jasper?” Hearing her name required a response. Buck held the door, waiting. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded and cracked his gum. “One thing to know about me? I don’t like liars.”
Jasper snarled and snapped in passing. “I don’t have to express myself to you or anyone else.”
“You right, but you’re under a lot of stress. And to be frank, I like to see you smiling.”
“Why?”
Buck scoffed and headed for Nieema’s table. The tiny booth was tucked into a shady, dim-lit corner. Jasper grew excited by the idea of sloppy wings, a foamy dark lager, and decent music. According to reviews, Mio’s had better fare than Fat’s Tavern. She’d be the judge after a spicy twenty-piece.
On a busy Friday night, the bar and grill was packed. Sports highlights or whatever made fans holler and hackle. The compact dance floor was crowded, and long bar lined with boisterous, happy drinkers.
Jasper settled across from the deviant couple and snatched a happy hour menu. “Wings and something dark sounds nice. I want the extra spicy. Twenty piece. Annnnnd the Muddy Highlands cake. Make that two slices.”
“You tried Fat’s yet?” Buck asked, throwing an arm over Nieema’s head. The tiny woman relaxed into her man’s safe embrace. “They got better wings.”
“They don’t,” Nieema countered.
“We go through this every time, and I’m telling you—“
“You don’t tell me shit, Buck. Now start talking.”
“When can I order?” Jasper asked. Her hollow gut growled as she rubbed it. “I need food, solid food.”
Nieema grinned and said, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, you’re majesty,” Jasper placed the menu in its spot between them and leveled her gaze on Nieema. “My succubus-related hunger pangs have been sated for now.”
“Shit,” Buck whispered, playing with his wife’s neon braids. “Who said you can taste me for free?”
“Buckley.”
“I’m just fooling, beloved.”
He wasn’t joking, and Jasper wasn’t stupid. Buck wouldn’t take cash as payment.
“You know how succubi work, I’m sure.”
“I do.”
Their gazes clashed as tension shifted and coiled. Jasper wouldn’t allow this man to intimidate her, and oh, how he tried. With eyes smoldering, his smile was unkind. Pine and creamy mint percolated.
Buck’s lust replaced booze and cigar smoke. She nipped at it, clamping her legs shut. The sudden swell and deluge between her thighs was unsettling.
Jasper flinched as glasses were planted on the table with an audible thunk.
“Hey there, new girl.” A busty blonde with gleaming brown skin and silver tattoos winked. “How you liking Indigo?”
“It’s lovely.”
She nodded and blew a fat pink bubble. It popped as she yanked a pad from her apron. With no wings, a telling aura, and red eyes, it was safe to say their waitress was a vampire.
“Names Irene.”
“Ja—“
“Jasper, I heard tons ‘bout you already.” Irene glanced at the Sunsides and scrunched her nose. “We ain’t got no double-dip patties, Auntie.”
“Girl, what? How? It ain’t nothing but blood, cornmeal, flour, and spices, how do y’all not got any?“
“Frankie didn’t order the shipment of cornmeal on time.”
“God damn that boy. I come in here for one thing, an—fine, shit. I’ll take braised marrow and fried cabbage.”
Irene wrote everything down and pointed to Buck with her pen. “Them short ribs gon’ be a minute, Unc. It’s Friday. You know how it is up in here.”
“I do. Bring me two baskets of fries and cheese dip.”
“Gotchu. And for you, Red?”
Jasper smiled at a fine woman in tight shorts and a thin tank top. She was tall and thick as hell. It was a wonder how she got those shorts on.
“I’ll take the inferno wings. Twenty. A side of ranch and the darkest beer you got. Chocolate cake, too. Two slices.”
Irene smirked and scribbled. “You sure about them wings? Frankie don’t play. The heat might make you sick.”
“I’m from Undervell, sweets. I’m good with spicy.”
“I heard that.”
Buck cleared his throat, and Irene giggled on the turn around. “Imma be back.”
Jasper propped elbows up on the table and watched her sway. A distinct tapping, like nails on glass, pulled her away from Irene’s assets.
Buck deadpanned and Nieema grimaced. “That’s our niece.”
“I thought calling an elder aunt and uncle was a term of endearment.”
“It is.”
“Then—“
Nieema squinted. “My brother’s daughter.”
Jasper sniffed as the heat upon her cheeks flared. It was a tad foolish, but old habits never die for a succubus. She was always on the go, on the prowl for potential… or used to be. It’d been close to a year since she even touched another person intimately. Of course, she survived on scraps here and there. Meet-ups with no physical contact.
“Sorry about that,” Jasper said, scanning the rustic establishment. “I can’t help myself sometimes.”
“Anyway,” Nieema piped. “Buck, I believe you have something to say.”
“God—okay, alright. Fine.” The mysterious fae removed the hat and smoothed his hair down. “I spoke to Trevor.”
Jasper winced, hearing his name. She flushed as fear tackled her. “What did he say?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“Oh, well, I punched him in his liver. It’s hard to talk with a low-blow like’at.” Buck snagged his beer and peered over the rim. “I can’t help myself sometimes.”
Floored and rendered speechless yet again, Jasper stared at the dark man. Her motor functions sputtered and squealed. She didn’t know what to say to Buck. He’d come to her defense without hesitation. What the fuck was she to do now, with her soaked panties and hammering heart?

And there you have it, another chapter DONE! What do you think is going through Jasper’s mind? She’s never actually had a partner stand up for her like that. Her siblings? Sure. Father? Meh, not when it counted. The thing is, Buck is about his business, as we have seen in the last chapter. He’s got guts and spine. That man ain’t scared of anyone, and now Jasper knows it. The monster under her bed, waiting in her closet, isn’t so big or bad after all, Buck proved it. For Jasper, what he did spoke volumes. She’s befuddled and maybe a little turned on at this point and can’t find her tongue… until the chapter. Once again, I want to thank you all for reading my web novel! You don’t have to, but you do, and every read means the world to me. Have a wonderful day!