Chapter 8
Hadrian
“Can you deliver this to my ranch?”
The minotaur male behind the checkout counter at Feed & Hardware nods. “Same as the prior shipments? Set it on the right side of the main house?”
Jasper yawns next to me.
“Yeah, that’s perfect,” I confirm. “Any time this week is good.”
The big minotaur grins. “Knock ‘em dead tonight, Hadrian. We hate it when the Sao Paulo Silents come to town.”
Unsurprising. I’ve had a run-in or two with their shitty coach, Gil Stoneswallow. He’s brash and arrogant, and he coaches dirty, which means his players play dirty, and I hate that shit.
“I’ll do my best,” I assure him.
Jasper yawns a little louder, kneeing me in the thigh. “Dude, when are you gonna give up and just hire someone to do the work for you? That ranch is a mess, you don’t have time, and you have a shitload of money.”
I smile as I thank the minotaur clerk and turn to my best friend. “Like I’ve told you at least a half-dozen times, I want to do the work myself. I might be slow, but I’m thorough, and it makes me happy. Plus, it’s a good excuse not to go party with my teammates after games.”
Jasper blows air out of his lips. “I’ll literally never understand this about you. You could be partying all over the haven system, having the time of your life, and you’d rather be up to your horns in wood shavings, pine dust, and books than enjoying the fruits of your labors.”
“We like different fruits,” I deadpan.
“You can say that again,” he snarks back. He waves at my crotch. “I still don’t understand why you even got that fucking piercing if nobody’s getting the benefit of it.”
A grin overtakes me as I consider how it feels good for me. I’m sure one day someone else will appreciate it.
I grab the door to the store, opening it as he sails through.
“Hey, have you seen Bluebell around today?” I haven’t seen her for three days since she fitted me for new clothing.
Three a.m. rolled around that night, and Jasper fell asleep on my sofa, but I never heard her come home.
She’s up at dawn every morning and back late as far as I can tell. I don’t know if she even sleeps.
Jasper shrugs. “Long as she gets the invoicing and scheduling done on time, that’s what I care about. Who knows what that girl even does with all her time?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that she’s fucking working nonstop, and I’m pretty sure she’s twelve seconds from burnout.
Why the hells did she buy a business to add on top of everything else?
She’s a twitchy, busy person. She never could sit still.
But the Bluebell I’m seeing now who lives across the hall is busier than any monster should be.
Jasper walks me to my truck.
“I’m gonna run a few more errands,” I say offhand.
“Dude, you promised me burgers,” he groans. “I didn’t eat breakfast.”
“You’ll be fine.” I shove him with a wing. “Take yourself for burgers. I’ll see you after the game.”
“Not if you’re going out to that ranch to do whatever the fuck you’re doing out there.” He spins so he’s walking backwards as he winks at me. “Knock ‘em dead, buddy. Oh.” He pauses and reaches into his pocket. “I got you something on our recent buying spree.”
My brows lift. “You did? I thought gifts weren’t your love language?”
He grins and hands me a small envelope. “They’re not, so literally don’t expect this ever again. But if I haven’t said it, I’m really glad you moved home. I’d have been miserable without you. I love my brothers, but you’re my favorite, not that I should have one.”
Grinning, I pull him close with my left wing. He stumbles toward me, eyeing the envelope with a little smile. Not the usual smirk but just a regular old smile. It’s almost tender.
“Oh my gods,” I whisper. “Are we having a bromance? Is this a love letter?”
He scoffs and elbows my wing. “As if. You took my sweet moment and ruined it. I’m leaving for the burgers you promised me, asshole.”
Spinning on his heel, he shoves my wing aside and walks up the street, lifting a middle finger as he goes.
“Awww, come on back, sweetie pie,” I shout after him. “Love you, bro!”
He lifts the middle finger higher even though the sound of his laughter echoes back to me.
Now I’m intrigued, though. Opening the envelope, I pull out what looks to be a printed receipt.
Scanning the contents, I gasp. It’s a first edition of Beasts of Bateau, a suspense mystery written by my favorite author, Mirabelle Megaux.
She died over a century ago, and first editions are impossible to come by.
A note at the bottom of the order receipt lets me know the actual book will be coming soon.
Holy shit. It’s a level of thoughtfulness I would literally never have expected from my best friend. He’s always there for me, always by my side. He’ll back me up in a fight and come anytime I need him. But thoughtful gifts? Not in the Jasper Tucker wheelhouse.
This is wholly unexpected.
I stare up the street as he disappears into Lizard Lick Saloon. He’s partial to their burgers, but I’m more a fan of Whiskey Business myself. Maybe that has something to do with a certain blue-haired bartender, though. Not sure.
Movement in the Buxom Bodice’s front window catches my eye.
A flash of blue hair confirms what I thought I saw as Bluebell comes into view, placing a giant metal cactus in the center of the platform behind the window.
She spins it this way and that, eyeing it with an armful of belts looped around her left wrist.
Without really thinking, I stride across Main Street toward the Bodice.
Sweet building that she is, she swings the door open for me.
When I enter, Bluebell turns with a smile.
No sooner has she done it than the Bodice jerks the entire platform Bluebell’s standing on.
She goes flying off it, landing on the ground, but as soon as she drops the belts, all the floor tiles ripple, and the belts go flying like bullets around the room.
A few land toward the back, one lands on my horn, and a couple end up on the ceiling beams.
Bluebell’s mouth drops open as she looks around.
Above us, the ceiling beams clatter.
The building is laughing. That much is clear.
Bluebell is decidedly not joining in that laughter as she crawls to her feet and plants a hand on her hip.
I pull a black leather belt off my horn and hand it to her. “You okay?”
She blows out a raspberry as she looks up at the laughing ceiling.
“I don’t know how to get this building to chill.
” She waves at the cactus in the window.
“I brought that gorgeous gift home from Santa Alaya, but she won’t let me stage it.
I thought gifts would be helpful, but nothing I’m doing is working. ”
“It’s been about two weeks, right?” I pick up a couple belts off the floor and hand them to her.
“Yeah,” she says, frowning. Double lines between her dark blue brows tell me she’s stressed.
I glance up at the ceiling. “Hey, can you take it easy with my friend Bluebell? She’s the best person in this whole haven, and she really wants to be your friend.”
Silence.
“I’m serious. Would you behave this way toward a customer?”
More silence.
I point at the ceiling beams. “You want me to grab those?”
Bluebell shakes her head. “Nah. I gotta get my tall ladder anyhow because there’s a hole up there, and I need to patch it, even though she hasn’t wanted me to.”
Dismay and discomfort fill me in equal measure. It’s obvious the building and she aren’t on great terms yet. Falling from the front window platform is one thing, but what if the building messes with her when she’s on top of a ladder? It’s got to be fifteen feet to the beams.
“Let me help you,” I offer, looking back at Bluebell.
She frowns. “You think I might fall?”
I shake my head. “I think if you did fall from that height, it would really suck, and even though you could heal yourself, it would be painful and scary.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for a game, Alk?”
I shrug. “I’m always ready, Bluebell. I can help you for a couple minutes.”
She looks between me and the ceiling again. The Bodice is still silent.
“Alright.”
Something inside me feels immense pleasure that she agreed to my help. I don’t like the idea of her up on that ladder. Not at all.
“I’m gonna put you on my shoulder,” I say, stepping close.
A clipped nod is her answer, but she’s visibly tense, rubbing the fingertips of her right hand together, the furrow still between her brows.
Dipping down, I slide my left arm around the backs of her legs and lift her up to my shoulder. She’s bitty enough to fit nestled right there, her right hip up against my head.
I glance up at her. “When I take off, it’ll be a slight up and down movement.”
“Just don’t drop me,” she demands.
Her tone has the quietly dominant side of my nature rising hot and heavy.
It’s a side that doesn’t come out that much since I don’t casually date.
But being in close proximity to her since I moved back has it rearing its head more and more.
This is going to become a problem. My pull to her is becoming a problem.
And I don’t know how much I care.
When I flap my wings and push lightly off the ground, she wobbles and yips on my shoulder. I clutch her knee tightly, but she grabs my left horn and grips it hard.
I choke back a groan at feeling her tiny, warm fingers on the sensitive length of my horn.
But she must be more worried about falling, because she hangs on for dear life as I flap slowly and carefully up toward the beam.
I focus on the destination, careful not to let her fall as I near the beam.
Once there, I grab a beam with each wing tip and alight on the one “wearing” the belts.
“This close enough?”
Her face is right up near a visible crack in the ceiling. While it doesn’t rain often in Pine Gulch, the ceiling crack could let in critters and moisture, none of which are good for the building or her wares.
She leans forward. “Hang on to me so I don’t fall, ‘kay?”
Reaching up, I grip her waist as she shifts forward and upright, lifting her hands to the ceiling.
The move exposes several inches of her belly beneath my fingers.
Her skin is soft and warm, and this close, she smells of something tangy and rich like citrus and chocolate.
I breathe her quietly in as she presses both palms to the ceiling.
The Bodice shudders but remains quiet.
I’ve had the privilege of watching Bluebell’s brothers and mother use their green magic many times over the years—growing plants, healing injured or infected plants, pushing strength into the ground.
But black magic? I’ve rarely witnessed Bluebell use hers.
Dark sparks flit from her fingertips and disappear into the air.
She’s quiet on my shoulder, although the furrow between her brows is back.
As I watch, the ceiling knits slowly together until all the wood connects like new.
Bluebell remains quiet, black mist swirling around her fingertips as the beams shift and straighten slightly.
When she removes her hands, it’s impossible to tell where there was damage. The Bodice is silent as Bluebell folds her hands in her lap, eyeing her handiwork.
“Looks good,” I murmur as I stare at the spot she fixed. “Your magic is remarkable, Blueb—”
The beam I’m on spins like it's in a log rolling competition, and I lurch forward.
Bluebell flies off my shoulder and into space.
I grapple for her as terror fills me. She spins in slow motion as she falls toward the ground.
Clawing through the air, I reach for her as I dip a wing beneath her body.
Her mouth is open, eyes wide as she stretches for me.
She hits my right wing with a thud, head falling back as her hair splays all over the bones.
I flap with my left wing as I yank her close until she hits my chest. She’s breathing rapid-fire, heart thudding like a machine gun as pink tinges her cheeks.
We’re breathing the same air, my mouth close to hers and her body tucked tightly against mine.
Pert, small breasts are pressed to my upper chest. My eyes drift to her open mouth and that pink, soft-looking tongue. Those navy-blue lips are tinted a shade darker by her favorite berry-flavored lip gloss.
“Holy shit,” she breathes, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me even closer until my face is pressed to her neck and shoulder. “Thank you.” It’s a whisper as she starts trembling, thin arms around me and face against mine.
I slide both arms around her body and hold her close, moving my tail up to wrap around her waist. I’m holding her steady with every possible appendage, willing her to know that I will never let her fall.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper into her neck. “That was frightening, Bluebell.”
“No shit,” she murmurs back. “I didn’t think she’d really hurt me.”
I lift my head, staring deep into those turquoise eyes, so bright they’re nearly iridescent. “You’re not allowed up on that ladder without me, okay? It’s not safe.”
Her eyes drop to my mouth, her blush growing.
Her scent deepens, and I soak it in, flaring my nostrils as I drop my mouth closer to hers.
I want to kiss her. In that moment, nothing is clearer to me than that desire.
Every inch of my body is focused on her, on calming her, on protecting her, on infusing my scent into her pores so she never smells like Bluebell again.
I want her to smell like us.
I’m shocked the Bodice tossed Bluebell right into my arms, but when I really think about it…what if she wasn’t trying to knock Bluebell down? What if she was just trying to push us together? I don’t know why the building would do that or even care, but my senses ping.
There’s more to this story. I just need to figure out what it is.