Chapter 23 #2
Moving her hand from my waist, she sails through the mansion’s open front doors.
My mouth drops open in shock yet again at seeing the entryway tile beautifully restored.
The walls are now covered in stunning black beetle wallpaper and a shiny chandelier dances down from the ceiling, casting shards of bright, warm light on us.
“Holy shit, Lem,” I mutter as I stare at the stunning home. “This place has been decrepit for, like, fifty years.”
The house groans angrily, and I lift both hands, nearly spilling the lattes. “Sorry, beautiful girl. You’d just never let anyone in, and I’m aghast at how stunning you look. Absolutely radiant.”
Lemon presses her hand to the nearest doorway, rubbing the building lovingly. “I think she’d let you do your thing now, if I asked her to. Maybe not today because I know you’ve got a lot going on. But when things slow down for you.”
“When hells freeze over?” I loop my arm through hers, laughing as we enter the formal dining room.
It used to be full of holes with the flooring ripped to shit, but now it’s as stunning as the front entryway.
Double elk horn chandeliers hang from the ceiling.
But no sooner have I noticed those than I notice the witches sitting at the far end of the table.
A tall, stunning redhead sits at the head of the table. To her right, a shorter blond witch plays with a ball of blue magic, tossing it back and forth between her hands.
“Oh my gods, the Hectors?” I hiss to Lemon.
The two women now rule monster headquarters along with Morgan Hector’s father-in-law, Betmal of House Zeniphon.
The same Betmal who had a hand in our brand-new haven welcome books.
I’d have dearly loved to be a fly on the wall when those three staged a peaceful coup to replace the vampiress who previously ran the haven system.
So much drama…they could’ve been a television show.
Lemon nods, pulling me all the way into the room. Around the table sit Furyon, Lemon’s mate; Varek Shorthorn, our local would-be land developer; Sheriff Rygold; Betty from the burger bar; Merit and Bryony; and Cairn from the shifter pack. They look like they’ve been here for ages.
“Sorry if I’m late.” I lift the tray of lattes.
Lemon grabs another and heads to the other end of the table, setting it in front of Furyon with a seductive smile. Smiling at the redhead, she points to the woman. “Morgan, why don’t y’all introduce yourselves, and then we’ll do the same from our side. We’re so excited to talk to you.”
That’s a stretch. While we might appreciate being hidden away from the human world, Pine Gulch has always preferred to fly under the radar. Not that Hearth HQ has ever completely ignored us—unfortunately for all the Keepers who’ve tried to put down roots here.
The redhead looks around the table and waves at us. “Hey, y’all. I’m Morgan Hector of House Zeniphon.”
“And I’m Lou Hector,” the blonde says, blue sparks disappearing into her fingertips. “Yeah, I’m the blue witch,” she says with a laugh. “Not hiding! Us blues don’t have to hide anymore now that we’re in charge. Damn, it’s nice to not be hunted by that bitch who used to be in charge.”
“Nice to meet you and all, but can I ask why you’re here?” I bark out before realizing I should have considered holding my tongue.
Morgan looks down the table at me. “Straight to the point, I like that. We’re…aware Pine Gulch doesn't have the best history with monster headquarters. Shit, I don’t think any of us did. We sure didn’t in Ever. But we’d like to change that.”
Now that I opened my big mouth, I might as well keep going. Looking back at her, I lift my chin. “What if we don’t want y’all meddling here?”
She snorts out a laugh. “Are you quoting Firefly or just randomly cool?”
The ghost of a smile tips my lips skyward. I’m a huge Firefly stan. Cowboys in space? Resistance? Humans with weird powers? Sign me up.
She returns the smirk as she lifts both hands.
“Listen. Hearth HQ has sent more than a dozen Keepers here in the last ten years. Some have lasted a while, but none longer than a few years, and most have lasted only a short time. But you have this beautiful house, which is obviously meant for a Keeper. We’d like to hear your thoughts on why that is.
Sounds like you don’t necessarily care for HQ to meddle, is that right?
And what about the ophiotaurii clan? I don’t see them represented here today… ”
Oof, she’s right about that. The monster motorcycle club has a mostly bad reputation in town.
Varek lifts a beefy forefinger. “If I may, Miss Hector. It’s more that—and I’ve learned this the hard way—Pine Gulch is beautiful, but we can be stuck in our ways too. Gulchers don’t love change.”
Discomfort rumbles through me. I’m one of many Gulchers who doesn’t love Varek’s vision of PG’s future—a “neighborhood” of mini ranches on the outskirts of town. Who wants that? Not me. Give me solitude any day of the week.
“I take it you agree?” Lou asks from down at the end of the table. “You’re making a face.”
I resist the urge to laugh. “He’s not wrong. Honestly, if PG could function entirely outside the haven system but still be protected from thralls and the like, we probably would.”
Morgan cocks her head to the side. “You don’t see a benefit to being connected to headquarters?”
Everyone’s silent, like nobody wants to say what we’re probably all thinking.
She looks down, reaching into her bag and withdrawing a thick notebook. Its edges are curled up like it's been read a thousand times. Sliding it to the center of the table, she looks at each of us.
“This document was penned by your own Sipan Varian, the Gulch’s first Keeper back in the day. And, apparently, it’s been collecting dust in Evenia’s private library ever since then.”
Lou takes over. “I came across it when I was going through trying to figure out what all that bitch kept secret while she was in charge.” She blanches, slapping a hand over her face. “Ugh, sorry. I just really hated her a lot, and I think most other people did too. Monsters, I mean.”
Suddenly, I decide I like this witch. She reminds me of me.
“What’s in the document?” I gesture for someone to send it toward me, and Varek slides it down the shiny burled wood table.
Lou smiles. “Sipan had big plans for Pine Gulch, and they included involvement from Hearth HQ. Lots of cool gardens and growth. He didn’t seem to intend for Pine Gulch to hide away from the rest of the monster world.
Not that you’re exactly hidden because you’ve got so many great events.
But he had a lotta plans and ran out of time to do them all. ”
“Why didn’t it happen?” That question comes from Furyon.
Morgan shrugs. “Knowing my mother-in-law like I do, I’m guessing she didn’t like his ideas, so she buried them.
But what we came here to find out is if these ideas, or any others, are something you want to do for your home.
Because, if they are, we can help. We aren’t here to impose our view of what Pine Gulch should be.
We want to help you make it the best version you want. You live here. We don’t.”
She shrugs. “Headquarters has lots of money at its disposal, funds created specifically for each haven. Yours hasn’t been used since Sipan’s time, specifically because no other Keeper got far enough into any project to warrant it. You could literally use it for anything you wanted to build here…”
Lou looks at me as I thumb quickly through Sipan’s book. It’s full of drawings. I never knew Sipan—he died in a potions accident long before I was born—but some of the old timers have talked about how wonderful he was and how much the gulch loved him.
“We don’t need an answer today,” Morgan continues. “Truly, we aren’t here to lord some master plan over you, we’re not. We want to help if we can. I do believe you’d be better off with a Keeper, primarily because it’s been made clear to us that Sheriff Rygold doesn’t intend to do that job forever.”
“You got that fuckin’ right,” the big, scarred gargoyle grumbles. “This job’s gonna be the death of me, and if you keep treatin’ me with magic so I can even do the job, who knows what my face’ll look like.”
“We don’t want you being forced to do a job you don’t want,” Morgan says, her tone suddenly serious.
“I’ve seen that happen to…someone else, and we don’t want it for you or anyone else.
” She looks around the table. “I’m going to stop sending Keepers to you until you’ve had a chance to look through Sipan’s book.
I think there might be a future where a Keeper naturally shows up, but maybe we need to focus on some of the other projects first. For now, keep his original copy; I’ve got a copy back home.
I’d love it if y’all can get back to us in the next couple weeks to let us know if you’re interested in any of what he saw as the future of Pine Gulch. ”
“PG or the Gulch,” I correct softly, staring at a gorgeous drawing of an elegant bar hovering over the edge of the gulf. It’s got a great view. Down below, chunky mustangs happily munch the grass that grows out of our riverbank.
“What?”
I smile up at her. “That’s how we know you’re not locals. So if you wanna start being accepted a little bit more, we’re PG or the Gulch. And we call ourselves Gulchers.”
“Gulchers,” Morgan says with a grin. “I love the sound of that.”
The next hour is full of invigorating conversations about the types of things we might want for the Gulch. Morgan and Lou share some of the high-level projects they read about in Sipan’s document.
It’s thrilling, it really is.
But some part of me just feels like I’m gonna end up with more shit on my to-do list, and I’m not sure I want that.