Chapter 13: Wild Ride

Jasper

Jasper had nothing staring down the small, mighty woman. Nieema was an undeniable force. Her words were honest; Jasper tasted not a single lie. The confession simultaneously scared and comforted her. This person, these strangers, both Buck and Nieema stood in her corner. Without question or hesitation.
“I don’t know what to say,” Jasper whispered, touching and pinching her chains.
“You don’t have to say anything.”
Jasper may have been taller, but Nieema was the protector here.
“Okay.”
The vampiress gave a curt nod and said, “You’re safe with me, deary.”
Nieema patted the hand at her throat. “No need to be anxious, now. I ain’t gon’ bite.”
The air shifted, from tense to flirtatious, and Jasper was thankful.
“I do.”
“Tuhuh!” Nieema pursed her lips and spun on her boot heels, heading their journey once more. “With fangs like yours, you had better.”
Jasper dared not blush, though her cheeks heated all the same. Lucky for her, Nieema didn’t catch it. Sure, she was a succubus and had years, decades, a century of courting under her belt, but this… a vampire? She’d never crossed a line with one, and their intensity was a great reason not to.
Jasper burned hot on her own; she didn’t need another passionate soul in her bed. And what were vampires if not the embodiment of passion?
“Where are you off to?”
“I already told you.”
Following Nieema around the corner, she caught up with her in three skips. At five-two-ish, the woman’s tiny legs didn’t take her too far.
“Okay, buuuuut why are we walking away from your truck?”
“We ain’t taking my truck.”
“Theennn—“
“You see that?” Nieema motioned toward a cluster of grazing horses. “That’s our ride.”
Jasper squealed and clapped. “Horses?! We’re gonna ride? Oh my under gods! It’s been years since I saddled up.”
Nieema scoffed and said, “You being a rider don’t surprise me none.”
“You’re terrible.”
“You been warned.”
They shared a silent, fleeting moment and smiled. Jasper tucked hands into her skirt pockets and set her sights on the pasture. It was better than ogling or touching the woman without permission. Her fingers twitched and palms itched with an odd desire to stroke Nieema’s full cheek.
“Why don’t you have a stable?” Jasper asked.
“No need, these are my wildlings.”
“Your, what?”
Nieema whistled high, and it carried. The resonant peal was more of a serenade, a calling. The herds response was immediate. They galloped and trotted toward them with alarming speed. The ground rumbled with their swift approach. Jasper stepped back, preparing to run if needed. She wasn’t in the mood to be trampled, squashed, or bedridden for the next week.
Granted, demons healed quicker than most, but she’d never fractured her spine or skull.
A sharp, short whistle from Nieema stopped every last horse. Jasper was astounded by their width and height. The snorting and wild group shone in shades of red, brown, and evergreen.
Majestic and beautiful, gold, silver, and red petted their wavy manes.
“What breed?”
“Murkwood. They are large enough to carry an orc and their wares.”
“Magnificent,” Jasper muttered, assessing a fine speckled horse with blue irises and horns. They snorted and nudged her. “Hello, beautiful.”
“That’s Pots, she likes you.”
“And I like her. Haaay Pots.”
The animal gave another snuffle, and Jasper laughed, patting Pot’s snout. “You are a lovely girl.”
“She is, but we ain’t riding her. She’ll throw your ass off and laugh about it. Chester!”
The bulky red horse pranced, circling them.
“You not cute! Why you showing out in front of company? Get over here, you diva.”
Chester was happy to greet Nieema, and she him. They were adorable, and Chester was intelligent. His searching eyes and telling dance spoke of his effervesant personality.
“Now, you wanna get on up?” Nieema asked.
Jasper quirked a brow and gestured. “How? Chester is taller than me! I don’t see stirrups, a saddle, or reins.“
“They’re too smart for all that shit, trust me. They know where to go, when to stop, and when to move ass.”
Jasper knew horses; undervell didn’t have cars. They had the railway and carriages, pulled by a demon-bred horse. She’d been taught to ride at the age of four. So yeah, she understood these creatures, but never had she seen them perform on their own without direction. Even human-bred mares and stallions needed instruction.
“Does this have something to do with magic?”
Nieema’s slow smile was to die for. The show of fang wasn’t bad either.
“Nowww ya getting it. You want my help?”
“Sure, yeah, okay. Give me a boos—whoa!”
Nieema had clutched Jasper by the waist and hoisted her high. “Mind that skirt, girl.”
On the horse, Jasper giggled and patted their flank. She peered down, into Nieema’s prodding gaze. “You and Mr Sunside think y’all are slick. You’re not. But you are the first woman to pick me up. I’m feeling a way about that.”
“Good, I hope you do.”
Nieema jumped and mounted with ease, only a gravity-defying goddess possessed. She settled in front of Jasper and tapped her calf.
“You gon’ wanna hold on to me, Chester don’t know how to do nothing slow.”
“If this is your way of getting me to touch you—“
A terse whistle put Chester in motion. Jasper yelped as she was almost thrown from the steed.
“Hollly shit!” She wrapped arms around Nieem’s plush waist and tucked her face into the woman’s hair.
“I told you.”
Jasper laughed as Chester galloped towards the mountainside. As if Nieema cracked a whip, his speed ratcheted until scenery blurred and Jasper’s ribs rattled. Wind rushed between her horns and set her free. Jasper had never been one for flying; she hated it, naturally. Most demons preferred both or all four hooves on the ground.
“Is he going to stop?!” Jasper shouted, heart beating somewhere in her ass. She had never been in a wreck, even when learning how to drive a motorized vehicle. The thought of a head-on collision terrified her, and what about the horse?
“There’s a gate! He should stop! Chester! He has a death wish!”
The speed demon stopped on a dime, mere feet from towering iron gates. Nieema erupted in shrieking laughter and dismounted in a single fluid motion.
“It’s not funny,” Jasper snapped.
“Yeah, it was, you were scared as a spring chicken with a fox on its tail. Come.” At the ready, Nieema outstretched her arms and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch ya.”
Right into her trap.
Jasper groaned and shook her head, but slid down into Nieema’s embrace. She was small but strong. It was no surprise with her being a vampire and all, but it still caught Jasper off guard. Not too many lifted a woman of her size. Standing at six-feet-tall, before heels, with a good three hundred pounds on her, most weren’t physically equipped to handle Jasper. Let alone someone a full foot shorter than her.
On her own two feet, Jasper cleared her throat and removed her hands from Nieema’s shoulders. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome.” Nieema snapped her cuffs and righted the knot at her throat. “Now… where is that—“
“Seven!”
A voice echoed from behind a shack with one window and two empty chairs.
“You summa bitch! That ain’t them trick dice, is they?”
“Hell nah. I’d never cheat you, Leroy.”
“You a ghat damn lie!”
“Just roll, and hurry up.”
Jasper snickered at their back and forth. It was playful, familiar, and entertaining. At least until Nieema cocked a brow and knocked on the box.
“Who in the—we expecting somebody?” A slim man dressed in a dapper waistcoat, trousers, and a pocket chain slid from behind the shack. “Tomorrowwwww. shit! Get up, Roy. Get—“ The fellow snatched the other, his identical twin, to his feet. “Majesty.”
“What in hell are y’all supposed to be doin’?” Nieema asked, scarlet stare bouncing between the two.
There wasn’t much difference in their dark complexion or their features, aside from the hair; it’d be hard to tell them apart if Jasper weren’t a Succubus.
The brother with short, rainbow locs bowed at the waist, smelling like gun smoke and lilac.

“Majesty, we do so apologize. Yes, we are on guard duty. But Leroy and I were taking much-needed respite.”
Nieema crossed her arms and sucked her teeth. “Really? And just how long was this break?”
Leroy cleared his throat and fixed the bat pin on his cravat. “Thirty—thirty minutes, madam.”
Compared to his brother, Leroy was airy, like fresh linen and the first day of spring. He was lighter and not the one with a pistol on his hip.
“I see.” Nieema hummed. “Do I need to give some constructive feedback? Mose?”
“No, madam.” Mose flicked his swirling maroon gaze over and assessed. Jasper stared, knowing what lay behind his quick read. “Shall we ring?“
“No.”
Mose elbowed Leroy. The vampire hurried into their tiny hut. With the press of a button, gates creaked and parted, just enough for their entry. An impenetrable void stood before them. It was a flat, matte darkness she’d never seen a day in her life. And for someone born in Undervell, that was rare. She’d been exposed to every shade and shape of darkness imaginable.
This was a magical abyss, she was certain.
Jasper had never breached a mountainside nor a cave and was a little nervous about it. She inched closer to Nieema and followed her brisk step.
“Your brother lives in a mountain?”
“Mostly.”
As they crossed into bleak nothingness, Jasper screwed her eyes shut. She didn’t know what to expect and wasn’t fond of underground tunnels and such. She’d hated the idea of getting stuck, rendered immobile by rock and dirt. It freaked her the hell out.
“Jasper?”
“Yes?”
“You alright down here?”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Reluctant as ever, Jasper cracked one lid then the other. “This isn’t at all like a cave.”
“Not anymore it ain’t,” Nieema said, her voice echoing in a grand vestibule.
It was art. Every inch carved and sculpted to perfection. Murals, foliage, and sweeping statues surrounded them. The finer things didn’t sway Jasper much anymore, growing up with an obsidian spoon in her mouth. But she was obsessed with palace living. It wasn’t the privilege or free shit, but the artwork. From the daintiest jewel to the tallest column, everything was grandiose. Not a detail left untouched.
She knew royalty, and this was it. Within the heart of Keyhold Mountain was a castle.
A palace fit for a queen.
Cool, botanical-scented air circulated in the enormous atrium. It made for an inviting atmosphere.
“This is magnificent,” Jasper said, eying Nieema. “I can only imagine what awaits beyond them giant doors. Why don’t you live here?”
“Too drafty and stuffy if you ask me.”
“What? You’ve gotta be shitting me.”
“Wish I was.”
Nieema set her sights above them and the glowing chandelier, where a camera blinked in the corner. It was enough to open sturdy, stone doors. They were thick and no doubt heavy, but separated as if made of rice paper.
“Yup, a palace,” Jasper said, as the bustling main floor told her everything she needed to know.
“Another man’s trash and all that…”
“Nieema?“
“It’s pretty, but it ain’t a home.”
Jasper had a rebuttal at the ready, but thought better of it. Nieema didn’t look pleased to be here, and in a sense, they had such things in common. Back in Undervell, Jasper hated their mansion. It was akin to a prison rather than a home. She spent two-three cycles there at max. They didn’t have enough family to fill even half of the estate, but it was… stuffy.
This subterranean fortress was carved from the very stone of Keyhold. An iridescence sheen of purple and green winked around every corner. It was an elegant feat, one Jasper wanted to learn more about. There was history and culture here. In ignorance, she thought vampires unrefined, coarse creatures.
Her father’s library needed curating.
“How long did it take to build this?” Jasper asked as the wave of busy bodies parted for them.
People nodded or bowed. Nieema smiled at some and ignored others. Their journey was quick and silent for a while. Jasper was fine with admiring paintings and unfamiliar dark bouquets. The underground castle was unique and Gothic, but lacked dreariness. It was welcoming and warm, with soft crystal lighting. She adored the large, animated stained glass windows and giggled at the show of magic.
“Generations.”
“Amazing.”
After a decent trek, high gloss stone gave way to a crushed velvet runner. Entering a quieter wing of the castle, Jasper was curious about who and what was behind a bronze set of doors.
Nieema didn’t knock or wait for an invitation. She barged right in and paused in an office doubling as a library. Jasper followed close behind and sucked in a breath tainted with lust. She swayed as the potent dose nearly dropped her ass. Clutching Nieema’s shoulder for support, she scoffed at the view of someone crawling from under the desk.

The Unexpected Resurrection of Neon Red and its CWs

About two years ago, I gave Vella a try. It went absolutely nowhere. I don’t know, maybe it was my lack of marketing skills. Anyway, I took Neon Red down six months before Vella shuttered and said I’d release it on D2D or Smashwords. I can still do that. I’m still thinking about it, but I figured why not give Substack a go and see what happens. If it doesn’t pick up after about six months, I’ll bring it here. No big deal. I get more reads through FB than anywhere else anyway.
So, with that being said, I will post Content Warnings here. Neon red is a Dramatic Paranormal Romance. Keyword: dramatic. It’s dark, twisted at times, and messy.
The story follows four vampires. First up, there’s Maxine, a depressed, ninety-eight-year-old divorcée living at home. Then we have Low, a bodyguard intent on fucking up his career and personal life. And because I love chaos, there is Jaxon Aubrey, a genius accountant moonlighting as a drug lord.
Lastly, and not my favorite character, Tracy. Maxine’s father, Low’s boss, and Jaxon’s newest client.
Neon Red is the first in a three-book series I completed four-five years ago. It’s not my best work, but it is fun and enjoyable. I have been editing and tweaking since its Vella days, so it ain’t sooooo bad.
Neon Red is a journey some may not like, and others love. Keep in mind, again, this is a dark story with dark themes. I don’t condone drug use or selling, nor do I care for those who actively destroy lives. This is fiction, and trust, I do not glorify it. There are consequences for every action. If you follow along to the very end, you will see what I mean.
The main coupling is a fast-burning polycule. Mmf. Crossing swords and sloppy toppy for everyone! By everyone! I’ve said it many times, but all these characters are Bi or pan. No assuming, just know!
Also, Maxine and Low are Black. Jaxon is not; he is Irish. I suppose this makes it an Interracial and Black love romance. Neon Red is unapologetically Black, and some language will seem dated. That’s intentional. These are old ass vampires with decades behind and in front of them. Time moves differently when you’re immortal.

Without further delay, the CWs and trope card.

Off-page death of a parent, Depression Murder, Parental Neglect and Financial Abuse Trauma, Mild Gore Blackmail, Drug Selling, Drug Use (weed), Parental Abandonment, Mention of Religious Bigotry, Past Domestic Violence

Neon Red trope card includes Polycule dynamic, plus-size FMC, Secret Relationships, morally gray MCs, Paranormal Romance, Forced Marriage

Chapter 6: In Which The Past Finds Buck

Buck

Replacing his classic muscle fifty-block with a new age engine powered by magical stones was the smartest shit he’d ever done. Buck arrived at Jack’s Real Estate and Legal Services in three minutes. He’d spent almost an hour arguing with that god damned city man about permits and regulations. It was exhausting when suits only smelled money.
Omari, their eldest son, was fed up with assholes and called his pappy. Buck was happy to play ref and calm the blue-blooded human down. He was lucky town folk had voted on this project, otherwise, they wouldn’t have shit.
Buck didn’t want a three-level shopping monstrosity in their town. It’d be an eyesore and attract trouble.
“Hiya, Buck,” Chelsea sang. Her wings fluttered as he removed his hat. “He’s in the bathroom. Got a little too happy with an eldonberry smoothie. I tried to tell him to take it easy but…”
“Mom, please.” Jack hung his head, fixed the tie, and exhaled a ragged breath. “Come on, Buck. Let’s talk in my office. Ma, hold my calls.”
“I know it.”
Buck tipped his hat, making Chelsea blush. She was a spry woodland fairy and didn’t look a day over sixty-five though pushing four-hundred. She wasn’t in the market for relationships, but he knew how Chelsea liked to dip and dive on it.
“What you call me for, Jack?”
“Close the door, would ya?”
Buck grunted as the latch clicked. “This feel like bad news.”
Jack settled behind the desk, his stained glass wings twitching. He was a handsome fella but off limits given how the wife and Buck nailed his mama to the headboard once —twice—twelve times at least.
He grabbed a seat and waited for some bullshit. Jack tugged on the point of his right ear and rocked in his executive chair.
“I’m coming to you because my mother asked it of me. This ain’t typical. Don’t be thinking that I’m running my mouth about everyone, but I thought you should know, the Palison purchased some land. The Carters’ old farm. As you know, Packard died last year. His kids opted to sell. And…”
“Why ain’t you say no?!” Buck glared at the man. “Why didn’t you just—“
“Just what? Buckley, I have ten kids.”
“We all got kids!”
“I’m the only income my family has. When faeries leave Lightbridge, their is no support for us and—“
“I know. Shit god damn it.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
“No. No. Shiland was buried four months ago. I know—I figured—“ Buck cut the commentary and stared at flat, gray carpet. He’d known this day was coming but damn, not this soon. “Thanks for telling me, Jack.”
“Sure thing.”
“Is the deal closed?”
“Not yet, ten days.”
“Got it. Thanks again.”
Buck gripped wood grain and peeled tires out of the parking lot. He would have stayed in the streets longer, but now, he needed a second alone, in his element. Pushing two hundred horses down the strip of road leading back home, he turned up his comfort tunes.
Highway 56 snaked across the continent. From Lightbridge, to Ravensguard, and continuing through Brasshorne. It ended at the tip of the world, Frostwinds Edge.
Four territories with four crowns.
Buck groaned, parked in the garage, and killed the engine. He cleared the vehicle and sneaked through the side door. Left of the detached garage was the wood. A dense thicket holding his past and dearest of memories. Before crossing the tree line, Buck tugged off his boots and t-shirt.
Barefoot and half naked, he entered the dark beyond and whispered hello to the sneaky elm, old oak, and wise willow.
“What in the hell y’all been up to? Boy, do I got some crazy shit to tell you.”

Chapter 5: In Which A Demon Shall Not Swoon

Jasper

Jasper snickered as her brother glared at the plumber’s feet. He wasn’t used to being dismissed, much less by a stranger. Kit fooled many with his fresh face and unrealistic phobias. But demons knew better and feared him, as they rightly should.
She looked on while petting a unique blend of threads. It was softer than anything she’d ever used.
“Kit,” Jasper warned.
“I was merely trying to help, sir. There is zero cause for your attitude or rude introduction.”
“That wasn’t no introduction,” Hank muttered from below. “I don’t know you and I don’t wanna know you.”
“Damn, man.” Jasper high-whistled, draped the folded quilt over the armrest with care, and jacked to her full height.
“I have never been so disrespected. You are an asshole and lack manners. You, sir, would fit well on my favorite pike!”
“’Scuse me?!” Hank scrambled from under the sink and rose from his ass like any gravity-defying vampire. “What the hell you say to me, boy?”
“Boy?!” Kit seethed.
“Alright, alright.” Jasper wedged herself between the men and tried for de-escalation. “Kit, you can’t piss people off then threaten to kill them, its uncouth. But Hank, it’s kinda rude calling a grown man a boy. He’s three hundred years old. You can’t say things like that. My brother, here, isn’t known for his patience.”
“Neither am I.”
“Hm.” Kit sneered and Hank was no better.
“Dearest brother, I have some important stuff to teach you about this world. Come. Let’s leave Hank to his business.
“I need supper before I actually murder someone.”
Jasper stifled a giggle and a hangry joke. It was funny because he was serious.
“There ain’t nothing in that ice box. You’ll have to wait for groceries. Nieema just left.”
Sooty puffs of smoke escaped from Kit’s nose as he huffed.
“If you that doggone hungry then go on up to the main house. I’ll tell them you coming.”
Jasper wagged praying hands and bowed as Kit stomped for the door. He exited with vile words while Hank’s jaw ticked.
“Sorry about him,” Jasper said. “He’s not used to fae or land. He’s read a lot about this place but never visited.”
“I reckon he’s a spoiled prick who ain’t worked a day in his life.”
Jasper grunted and smirked. “Now there, is where you’d be wrong.”
“Sure.”
Hank let the convo rest there and returned to tightening bolts or whatever. Jasper took his silence as a period and joined Kit on the porch.
A vicious wet heat clung to her skin and soaked Indigo Plains. Humidity touched every blade of grass and leaf. She’d moved here for solitude and the promise of peace. The weather was a delightful bonus she much appreciated.
“If someone doesn’t ask for help, you leave them alone,” Jasper pronounced, admiring the majestic vista.
“It is an honor to meet me, Hank should have been-“
“Up here, you’re a nobody.”
Jasper shrugged and cleared the steps in a single bound.
“What do you mean? Please explain.“
“Nobody, no one, not a soul gives a damn about you, Kit.”
“I don’t know how I feel about this revelation.” Kit matched her stride by power walking and looked as if she’d shattered his heart. “Fowler says land dwellers love demons. These people worship us and beg at our feet.”
Jasper laughed and sought a star-speckled sky.
“Ohhh, they do love us. He was right. They show up and show out. For those with succubi blood, they’ll do just about anything.”
“I’m only half incubus.“
“Don’t matter.”
“I say, your vernacular is atrocious.”
“You can be two-thirds or fourths, whatever, no one cares. They’ll kill for you, Kit. Some would clip their own vein and pluck every hair from their pretty little head for you.”
“That sounds more like it!“
“They want your body, brother.” Jasper skipped ahead and spun, facing Kit. She remained on the path and smiled at his obvious terror. “They care not for your status or the reward of being your bonded.” She stopped dead and clutched his suspenders. “No, no! What they want, brother mine, is your mind, your dreams, and strapping form sheltering theirs and—“
“Enough!”
Kit smacked her hands away and blushed. His gray cheeks purpled with embarrassment. He was a prude and no fun at all. Grinning at the man, she flicked a bejeweled loc over his shoulder.
“I’m gonna set your ass up with somebody,” Jasper vowed.
“What?Wait—no.”
She sighed and continued on their journey. Approaching the big ranch house she cackled as Kit stuttered and stumbled. Words never caught purchase on his tongue.
“I don’t wanna hear your excuses, bruh. Listen, you need to get bent then bent over.”
“I am not discussing this with you! My intimate affairs are none of your concern.”
“What intimacy?”
“Don’t be crass, Jasper.”
She took the steps in twos and side-eyed her eldest sibling. His head and spirit dragged across the covered porch.
“I’m sorry, Kit.” Jasper locked an arm around him and squeezed. She wasn’t the biggest hugger, but exceptions must be made. “I know you have fears and… worries. As with most things. I won’t push, but I might make suggestions.”
“You always do.”
She smiled, kissed his sad, shaved horn then stabbed the doorbell.
“Off with you,” Kit snapped.
Jasper released him and shoved the fucker. He stammered and cussed.
“Who the fuuuck are you?”
Jasper pivoted and Kit yelped at the sound of a grating, warped voice. She didn’t know what the hell to make of this perched creature. Ugly as shit and odious, saliva dangled from its crusty beak.
“What in the name of death gods is it?” Kit asked, gripping her bicep.
“I have no clue.”
“Ah!” Buck charged at the unnatural, winged cryptid, wielding a dangerous broom. “You old buzzard! Getchya ass—ah!”
“I came to welcome you new guesssts.”
The thing squawked and took flight, losing feathers on their ascent. They clawed at bristles and laughed. The hysterical howl was horrifying. Jasper almost smiled as Buck and the spawn of something beyond the depths of hell dueled.
Buck held good form with a thick forest green braid whipping about. She often paid attention to details; the makings of a person. Tensing thigh muscles, a calloused iron grip, and the curve of his hips.
This was bad business but they offered to help.
“Damn scavenger.” Buck stomped, swore, and cracked his gum. “Sorry ’bout that. Dust Peckers are damn hard to shake. I’d rather termites. Come on in, Hank said y’all need a meal.”
With Buck missing the hat, Jasper got a better look at his eyes. She nodded in passing and clocked the grin. He wasn’t cute smelling like an unknown sweet wood and cinnamon bark.
Their inviting home immediately claimed her attention. The main house was an architectural feat and Jasper didn’t know shit about building things but it was wondrous.
Spacious, massive even, and immaculate. She stopped by the stairs and counted three stories. Coated in white and love. The Sunsides residence was nothing like her rotting Victorian.
“What a serene environment.”
Jasper high whistled and followed Buck through a hallway lined with more odd artwork. She was taken aback by framed embroidery. Various sizes and shapes, the pieces hung from every wall. After a decent stroll, they entered the great room and veered right, into the kitchen.
“This is living!” Kit shouted. “You have done well for yourself, Mr. Sunside.”
“Buck.”
“Buck. What is it you do, exactly?”
“They own a construction business.”
Kit hummed and meandered. Jasper kept a close eye on the demon. He was prone to touch, handle, and fumble. One might never guess he was a natural-born killer with a specific skill set.
Sitting at a table tucked into a cove of windows, she watched Buck rummage. The kitchen with its long counters and shiny appliances filled Jasper with envy. She’d grown up around the same luxuries but had never owned anything until now.
It wasn’t the high-end refrigerator or the weird coffee contraption that made her slouch, no. It was the fact that all of this was theirs. No one bought or filched it from a human with recurring debt.
This was why Jasper had left the nest. She wanted to make her own way, be her own person, and live by her own rules. Duty, obligation, fear, and corruption brought her here.
The freedom this world offered was unmatched.
“So,” Buck started. “I got leftover lasagna, roast beef for dips, subs, or ten-layer bean casserole. Don’t ask me what’s in it. I don’t know, my grandson Mace inhales anything with beans.”
Kit slid into the booth and pulled a small pad from his pocket. “What is a bean casserole?”
“Layers of mashed beans, cheese, meat, and sour cream I think. You wanna eat it cold.”
She was curious about Kit’s notes and what he jotted down. He had a love of food that surpassed eating it but she never saw the appeal of preparing a meal. Jasper couldn’t cook for shit. She was told by an ex that a starved stray dog wouldn’t touch her food. She tested the theory of course, and it was true. The mutt gruffed and pawed at the bowl, flipping it over completely.
“I will have that,” Kit said. “Would you happen to have hot sauce?”
Buck laughed, his husky amusement supplied her with far too much delight. “Do a pig shit?”
“What—yes, they do. I think. I’ve never seen a pig in person.”
“You’re funny, Kit.” Buck presented her brother with a large bowl of bean muck, chips, and a tub of Reaper Water hot sauce. “I like you.”
The gorgeous, dense souled man popped gum and rested his big boot on the bench seat. It was a decent pose, one she often used when trying to court easy prey. His stance and stare would’ve made a daintier person blush.
“And what about you, darlin’? What can I get ya?”
They’d met hours ago and he went straight for a pet name. Jasper wasn’t a petite damsel, but god damn it, some words turned her into a doe-eyed flower.
Some shit wilted her petals and ‘darlin’ was a winner. Not even twenty-four hours since they had exchanged names and she was ready to swoon. Time had never stopped her in the past, but things had changed. A while ago, Jasper ignored her instincts and rode the wave of passion. She lost herself. Twelve months of hard lessons made her hop states, buy a house in a rural town with a population of five thousand, and delete all socials.
“Lasagna,” Jasper said, digging into his shadow-laced gaze “And make it two servings if you can. I like to eat.”
“We got that in common.” Buck dropped his foot and backpedaled into the kitchen. “And I don’t leave no crumbs behind either.”
She wouldn’t bow to this man or fold for him. Not now. Not ever.
“This is incredible!” Kit announced. He drizzled more sauce on the goop and scooped. “I can’t name most of the spices but I will research this recipe at a later date. I know a few off the top of my head. Pepper, garlic, sweet chilies, and onion.” Kit paused for a tick then carried on. “Believe it or not, Buck, demons have taken to some of your culinary customs. We adore onion and garlic quite a bit. Though, you are mighty liberal with it. Do you really use them in every dish?”
“If my wife can help it.”
“I assumed the vampyree were allergic to garlic.”
Buck chuckled again, the harmony snaked around her spine and tightened.
“It has to be unprocessed. Whole cloves, wild, and grown in cursed soil.”
“Ahhhhh.” Kit mumbled and waved his spoon. “I see, yes. Another piece of knowledge fractured by the hands of time and small human minds. I understand. Most think us spirits attached to religious institutions. I’ve never understood the connection. They’re fables.”
The moment Buck gifted Jasper with food she let Kit talk the man’s ear numb and dove into the cheesy, meaty goodness. The piping hot tomato sauce was well seasoned and thick. She drifted in and out of the conversation, stuffing her face. Jasper didn’t care how rude it was or how she looked. After such an exciting night, she was starved. Two slices of butter-topped sourdough hit the spot and sopped up leavings like a sponge.
“Glad to see somebody likes my lasagna.”
A cup of iced tea appeared as Jasper sucked sauce from her fingertips. Now, she blushed… a little.
Lifting eyes to Nieema, Jasper nodded. “I love it actually. It’s been years since I had a real home-cooked meal.”
The woman scoffed in surprise. “Let me guess you, don’t know how to cook?”
“I can bake a mean pop tart and throw together the best cocktails you’ll ever have.”
“Now there,” Buck interrupted. “Is something I need in my life. A cold mixer? I can’t get enough of goblin glitter.”
Jasper laughed and sipped a chilled sweet tea, heavy on the lemon. She relished it. “Gooood choice. Extra sugar cane, cranberry bitters, and maraschino cherries. I’d never peg you for a glitter guy, Buck.”
“Well, see. That’s cause you don’t know me. I welcome a good peg—“
“Get the hell—“
“I’m only playing, woman.”
Buck snatched his wife into a crushing embrace and captured her lips. He devoured her on the spot and Jasper gawked. She didn’t mean to but had no choice in the matter and Buck’s cutting eyes caught her dead.
Prying his wife off, he cackled. “Don’t you go teasing me now, I gotta go.”
“You can stay.”
“I most certainly can not. These bills ain’t gon’ pay themselves.”
Nieema wrapped his long braid around her fist and yanked. Jasper flinched at the power move. Their foreplay and flirtatious energy clogged the air. As a veteran succubus, she involuntarily fed on lust and carnal desires. Jasper nursed their shared intimacy and nibbled on it. Scents and energies fused, causing her stomach to drop. An unfamiliar brand of desire pooled deep in her belly and settled between clenched thighs.
This was about her biology and make. Nothing more. Her demonic soul thrived in this environment. Fighting such urges was futile as they were a testament to her maturity.
Nieema shoved Buck and returned. Nieema’s intense, scarlet consideration was worse than her husband’s undivided attention.
“Who here wants a tour of our ranch?”
Against better judgment, Jasper raised her glass. “I’m for it. What say you, Kit?”
The demon shrugged, unsure. “As long as we stay out of the woods.”
Nieema bit into a ripe, kingsbury peach and said, “I ain’t making no promises. Those woods hold many magical secrets”
“They can keep them,” Kit clipped.
Jasper and Nieema giggled.
More than ready, she scraped ceramic and rushed to the sink. “Alright, Nieema. Lead the way. I’m anxious to see the grounds.”
If Jasper was lucky she’d keep her eyes on the scenery and not, on Nieema’s mouth.

Nieema

Nieema spent the last hour moonlighting as a tour guide. Even for her —somebody who’d lived on this land their entire life— she found the setting sublime. Acres worth of flatland, three lakes, snaking rivers, and a picturesque mountain view left her ass speechless many uh nights. She loved Indigo Plains with its harsh winters and humid summers. Living amongst the stars and the trees was nice. She preferred sketchy woods over echoing catacombs.
“I thought most ranch dwellings raised cattle,” Kit said. He gestured to a pasture with grazing sheep and goats. “Where are the bovine and bulls?”
Nieema launched an old tennis ball through the air and watched Ringer, one of three, Collies sprint after it. He barked and jumped for it.
“Cattle ain’t our brand. Never was. The Haggers across the road keep cows and bison. Goood job, boy!” Nieema crouched and scrubbed Ringer between the ears. “Cows and such don’t take to vampires well. Sheep and goats? We’re best of friends. Ain’t that right, baby?” She snatched the fuzzy, old ball from the pooch and tossed it again.
“It’s beautiful out here,” Jasper rasped. “Fresh air and impressive views. I can only imagine what Christmas is like around here. Especially the mountains.”
Jasper was a masterpiece if Nieema had ever seen one. She was rough and tumble, but not coarse. Her silver hair short and newly chopped with spoke of rebellion. Nieema knew countless succubi. They never cut their intrinsic cornrows and braids. It was so unlike her people and abnormal, but fitting in Jasper’s case.
Restarting their walk, Nieema chucked the ball and checked the time. “Say, how would y’all like to make some deliveries with me?”
“Deliveries? What do you make? What is it you do?” Kit was a nosy man with strong opinions and a blunt tongue, she liked him. “Jasper said you own a construction business.”
“Yeah, we do. But, we got more bills than you know and as an immortal, hobbies are a must. In my downtime, I make candles and quilts.”
“Wait, you’re the one who made the quilts and art, huh?” Jasper smiled, no doubt perceiving Nieema.
“I did, and what of it? I’m an old broad who knits and makes sweet-smelling candles. You gonna make a joke? My whole family does.”
“What? No, no. I was uh, well…” Jasper peered at the horizon and ruffled her hair. “I cross stitch. I’m great with a needle and thread. Good with my hands. Thought about making blankets and such, but I can’t afford a sewing machine right now.”
“Get outta town!” Nieema gasped as they approached her pick-up truck. “Now, why ain’t you just say so? Do you take commissions? You got a portfolio or a website or something?”
“I do.”
Nieema wagged a finger and plucked keys from her skirt pocket. “This is great! I need some new patches, too.”
“Is this how you make money, Jasper?” Kit asked, with more oomf than necessary.
He dispatched judgment and Nieema thought it rude.
“What you tryin’ to say, sir? Because my little sewing job brings in six figures a month.”
Kit tapped his lip with a sharp talon and mulled on it.
“Exactly,” Jasper said. “I sell feet content too.”
“Feet? What would anyone want with photos of hooves?”
“Not all of us have hooves, Kit.”
“Well, yes, I forgot you have five strange digits. I suppose your matriarch is to blame for such an unsightly mutation.”
Jasper sniffed and frowned at her kin. “They pay out the ass to see my feet, okay. You wouldn’t understand.”
Nieema stabbed the fob and started the truck as she worked to steady her heart. Pretty feet made her crawl and kneel. Knowing this here demon had a booming foot business quickened an ancient vampire’s slow beating pulse.
Gathering herself, Nieema hummed and opened the passenger door. “After you.”
Jasper sighed and shook her head but hopped into the front seat. Kit’s eyes flitted about the cab before hopping inside.
“This is exciting. We have a train system and carriages in Undervell.”
“Under what?” Nieema asked, putting the truck in drive. “What’s—“
“Hell,” Jasper supplied.
“Right, right. I be forgetting hell ain’t the real name for it.”
“Hell is better. I like it. Sounds foreboding and dark.”
“Everything Undervell is not,” Kit supplied.
Jasper laughed, looking back at the demon. “I wouldn’t go that far. We have blackout seasons and nights where it rains acid and molten metals.”
Kit drooped and sighed. “Don’t remind me. I love our down season, it’s when we break out the skulls, candles, and give hatchlings treats.”
Nieema kept eyes on the two-lane highway and listened as the siblings reminisced about a holiday similar to Halloween. Except Undervell folk had a ball and dined on fine foods for an entire cycle, whatever that meant.
With their land skirting the edge of Indigo Plains, the trip into town lasted longer than it should have. Twenty minutes and some change later, Nieema parked in front of Landon’s Home Goods.
“I’m still not used to this,” Jasper said, staring at the pink and purple facade. “There’s no skyscrapers, high rises, subway systems, or factories.”
“That ain’t true, we have four factories.” Nieema popped the trunk and slipped out. Jasper and Kit followed. She rounded to the backside of her truck and retrieved boxes. “The Petersons own a mill and the largest wheat crop in town. Hell, Maybell’s milking Farm has the biggest factory around and then there’s Jed’s water purification, lab, factory, center place.”
Jasper lifted the boxes Nieema tapped and Kit slammed the hatch.
“Thank you kindly. And last but not least, you got the blood distribution bank down on Heartlocke Circle, right next to Mace’s barbershop. My grandson owns that spot.”
As they started for the store, Nieema smiled at Bonny Kinsington. “How’s the kids, Bonny?”
“Great, Miss. Here, let me.“ Bonny yanked open the door and bowed her head. “They’re good. I’m throwing a party for Nathan, I’d love it if y’all could swing on by.”
“I sure will. I know Jo will be happy to see Maryanne.”
“She’s married now, Miss.”
“Oh, well, they’re still friends.”
“True.” Bonny grinned, her cheeks strawberry red. “I must be going, gotta put the roast on.”
“You go on, honey. Don’t let me hold ya.”
Bonny waited until they were inside Landon’s, which gave fancy department stores a run for their money. Indigo Plains kept to their own brands and local shops, they didn’t need no outsider business.
One mall was enough.
“I bought a few cups from here yesterday,” Jasper said. “The deals are fantastic. It’s not often you can find quality for under five bucks. I was shocked.”
“Landon barters with the fairies for his stuff. And, you know, folks bring things in. Like me, I give him these candles free of charge.”
“For free?!” Kit shouted, wrestling with a buggy. He rattled the cart loose and beamed. “Oh! How marvelous. I have always wanted to use one of these. I’ve never shopped on my own before.”
Nieema sashayed on through the busy store and glanced at Jasper. Her kin seemed spoiled, sheltered, and pampered. She, however, did not. It was interesting.
“Do you have those uhm, cards or the paper sort of currency?”
Jasper laughed, the harmony pleasant and welcome.
“Debit? Yeah. Cash? No. But— wait, what are you trying to ge— Kit, wait, bruh. What—“
“You go ahead, I’m gon’ hand these over to the stock team. And talk with the manager.”
“Alright. We’ll be quick.”
Jasper bounded after an excited Kit, leaving Nieema to process. Wondering where the woman’s tail was, she went about her business and decided to make this snappy. They had six deliveries to make before closing time.

Chapter Five Coming!

“Do I like Jasper? Yes. I do. She’s cute and rugged. I’ve made it my duty to get to know this woman. I have to, I want-no, scratch that, I need to know her secrets. There’s something about Jasper I can’t place. She’s surprised me with her charm. And for a vampire my age, that don’t come easy. So, naturally, I wanna show her around. And there ain’t no tour guide better than me. I’ve lived in Indigo Plains for a veeeeerry long time.” – Nieema Sunside