Chapter 2 Lemon
Lemon
When I step through the door to Glimmer, the scent of common potion ingredients swamps me.
I breathe in a happy sigh at being assaulted with so many familiar, comforting smells.
Sidrin dust, bone broth, bitter appleroot.
My sense of smell is good enough to pick up half a dozen other scents—perks of being a vampire and thus built like a predator.
These smells are my happy place, and they bring me immediate comfort.
That’s quashed a moment later when a black-haired, black-winged pixie looks up from behind a glossy black desk. Two stories of shelves packed with books and potion bottles rise up behind her. My fingers itch to touch everything.
Although I know better, of course. One doesn’t simply waltz into a potions house and start picking up bottles.
“Hi there,” I chirp. “I’m Lemon Denton. I believe Letitia is expecting me?”
The pixie throws an exaggerated hand over her heart, dark brows lifting skyward in mock surprise. “Oh my. Lemon Denton? Well, well, aren’t we lucky to have potions royalty in our midst? Except, I guess you’re not really the best of the Dentons, if the rumors are true.”
She rolls her eyes and stands, disappearing through a door and leaving me in a cloud of shock and confusion. Doesn’t even bother to introduce herself.
Oh my gods. I thought Father quietly arranged this little trip, but if everyone at Glimmer knows what happened with Serafina’s potion…I am double-F fucked.
Nerves clang in my belly as my heartbeat rises into my throat. This isn’t supposed to be a disaster. This is supposed to be fine. But instead, it’s like being in front of a Potions 101 class with my pants down.
I grip my throat, squeezing and focusing on the thrum of my blood through my veins.
It centers me, grounding me as I remember that what happened wasn’t entirely my fault, and I can come back from this.
I’m Lemon Knox Denton, for fuck’s sake. I’ve been under a microscope my entire life.
Vampire social circles can be a vicious place.
Thank fuck the pixie woman at the front isn’t my contact here. Plus, if I can survive the annual warehouse sale at Carney’s on Fifth, then I can survive a mean-ass secretary.
Moments later, a stunning female pixie with purple wings and blue hair emerges from the doorway. The first girl hovers behind her, glaring daggers at me.
Ah, this must be my father’s contact. I’ve never met Letitia, but I learned about her when I got my master’s—the potions community is relatively small. She moved to Pine Gulch almost a century ago and built Glimmer from the ground up. It’s a smaller potions house but thriving…and expensive.
I hold a hand out to shake hers. “Letitia? I’m Lem—”
She slides both hands into wide black sleeves, eyeing my proffered hand like it’s a snake. “I’m aware of who you are. Your father told me to expect you.” Bright purple eyes drift down my figure, her thin nostrils flaring as she gives me a brusque once-over.
I stand quietly. I’ve got to feel this out. This certainly doesn’t seem like an auspicious start, but actions speak louder than words. I’ve just got to kick ass at this job so I can return home with her blessing. Then I’ll pick back up with the family business and forget this little misstep.
“Come with me,” she barks, turning and disappearing through the doorway once more.
“Good luck,” the black-haired pixie says sweetly, although it’s clear she doesn’t mean it in a kind way. So much for small town hospitality, I guess.
The hall behind the door is narrow, dark, and filled with full potion bottles.
Letitia points as we walk. “You’re not to touch anything.
I’m aware of why your father sent you here, and since your error, I don’t know what I can trust you with.
You’ll start as an apprentice, cleaning our first-level potions room.
Once I learn more about your capabilities, we’ll move you up if it’s possible. ”
Cleaning. Cleaning? I bite my tongue. I haven’t cleaned a potions room for probably four decades. I did that time already. But I suppose this is part of Father’s plan. Knock me down a peg or two to remind me to be careful.
Joke’s on him, though, because I’ve already knocked myself down quite a few pegs.
“Very reasonable,” I say agreeably. “I aim to be a quick and thorough study.”
Letitia says nothing as the hallway opens into a cavernous room.
Desks placed haphazardly around the room are covered with potions.
Several witches, vampires, and a few pixies stand at the desks, absorbed in potions work.
I’d sigh at how beautiful a sight it is, but Letitia moves quickly through the room, disappearing down yet another dark hallway.
A big green troll male smiles and waves, a potions recipe card in one hand. I wave back, summoning my best smile, although everything inside me is clenched and unhappy. The potioneers seem absorbed in their work. Just as I would be, if I were mid-potion.
Straightening my back despite my unease, I follow Letitia into the hall, ducking into a room on the right.
It’s all dark with floor-to-ceiling shelves covered in dusty tomes.
Not a single window in the space. If I had to guess, I’d say we’re somewhere beneath the auction house, given how far we walked. It’s a weird setup.
Letitia settles gracefully into a black velvet wingback chair, steepling her fingers as she glares at me. “Let me be clear, Miss Denton. I do not want you here, and were it not for a favor I owed your father, you would not set foot inside Glimmer, given your recent gaffe.”
I open my mouth to respond, but she lifts a palm to silence me.
“You are never to be alone on the production floor. I may actually assign you to a mentor who can babysit you during the course of your stay. Your father sent me a list of things he’d like you to learn while you’re here.
It’s my goal to get you through them as quickly as possible so I can return you to him forthwith. ”
So many thoughts perch on the tip of my tongue. So many retorts. So many excuses. But I swallow them all down because I want to get home fast too.
Letitia sighs. “You may leave back the way you came. We’re done for today.”
I scoff. “But…it’s early. I’d be more than happy to get started now, even if it’s just the cleani—”
She pinches the bridge of her nose with a loud sigh. After a moment, she glances at me. “It does not bode well that you cannot follow the simplest of orders, Miss Denton. Was I or was I not clear that you could go?”
Grief for my situation rises to join the irritation inside me.
Giving her a clipped nod, I grab my things and stalk out of her office, down the hall, across the potions floor and back to the front desk.
I ignore the black-haired pixie, and although she says something as I push out the door, I don’t hear her through the blood pounding in my ears.
What I do know is that I need a drink.
Stat.
Ten minutes later, I drag my suitcase through the doors into Whiskey Business Saloon. Apparently, downtown has several bars, but this one was on my side of the dusty main street, so here I am.
Sliding onto a barstool made out of a western saddle, I lay the boot box down and look around for a bartender. The bar itself is in the shape of a horse shoe with shelves full of liquor and mead occupying the center of the space.
A cute purple-skinned gargoyle pokes his head around the edge of the shelves. “Hello there. You haven’t been sitting at the bar long, have you?” He rounds the corner, shuffling big leathery wings at his back.
I shake my head. “Literally just sat down, and I need a drink stat. I don’t suppose there’s a chance you’ve got blood-laced whiskey, do you?”
He groans. “Ugh, no. Not in PG. I’ve got regular whiskey, but we don’t carry anything fancy.” He cocks his head to the side and eyes me. After a moment, he waves a finger toward my dress. “That’s not from Temani on 17th in the city, is it?”
My mouth drops open, and I nod.
He snaps big purple fingers and grins, revealing wicked white fangs. “Thought so. I’d recognize that ruffle pattern anywhere, and it’s gorgeous on you.”
“I could cry at hearing a nice word,” I admit, playing with the ruffled edge of the straps.
His expression softens, and he leans over the bar onto muscular forearms. “Let me guess…you’re new in town?”
I nod morosely. He stands and grabs a glass and a bottle of whiskey. He fills it with what’s definitely more than two fingers and grabs a square ice cube, dropping it into the glass. When he slides it across the bar, he winks.
“Name’s Ozifer, but you can call me Oz. I’m new here too. Well, kinda new. I moved from Rainbow about three months ago.”
“Ugh, why though?” I clap a hand over my mouth, eyes springing wide. “I mean, I’m so sorry. You’re right. This place is…delightful.”
He laughs and crosses both big arms, leaning against the bar. “It is, actually. I left to escape a terrible breakup, but this place has been a breath of fresh air, literally.” His eyes fall on my boot box. “You just come from the Bodice or what?”
I sigh and open the top of the box.
Oz’s eyes widen, and he gasps, grabbing one of the bedazzled boots and lifting it out. A black-coated minotaur at the bar wearing a dreadfully plain tan uniform jerks back, mouth dropping open as she stares at the boots. Discomfort makes me rub the back of my neck.
“Oh. My. Gods,” says Oz. “These are fabulous. I can’t wait to see you strutting around town in them.” He glances at me. “Assuming you’re in town for a while?”
“Lemon…Knox,” I say, deciding not to give my last name.
Holding out a hand, I wait for him to shake it.
I don’t know how famous my family may or may not be in this remote haven.
But since there’s a well-known potions house, it stands to reason the Denton house might be well-known too.
Given how that landed like a ton of bricks at Glimmer, I might just go by my middle name for a bit.
A whining sound at the door pulls my attention. Spinning on the stool, I find a tan dog picking her way across the saloon with her tail tucked between her legs. She glances from side to side, eyes wide as she licks her lips.
“Awww, honey bear, come here.” Oz kisses at the dog and walks around the bar. Dropping to a knee beside me, he holds out a hand.
The dog joins us and tucks herself between Oz’s big thighs, pressing her forehead to his chest.
“What on earth?” I glance at the door and back. “Dogs in bars? This is new.”
Oz smiles up at me as he pulls something from his pocket, offering it to the dog with one hand while he scratches her back with the other.
“Pit-hells. Half pit bull, half hellhound. They run wild around the whole haven. Like hellhounds, they bond, but there are only a couple bonded pit-hells in the whole haven, so the rest go where they want, and everybody pretty much pitches in to take care of them.”
I wave at the tan dog as she tentatively takes bites of whatever he offered. “This one bonded to you, then?” Up close, it’s easier to see rivulets that look like red lava flowing under the dog’s tan coat. That could only come from the hellhound side.
“Naw,” he says softly, rubbing at the dog’s shoulder.
“She’s just shy, and I keep bacon in my pocket for her.
She got picked on as a puppy because she’s real submissive, and I’ve been working on her confidence.
” He winks up at me. “Better be careful if they come near you, though. You get bonded with a hellhound, and you’ll have to stick around. ”
I snort. “Absolutely not. I can’t take a hellhound back to Rainbow. What a pain in the ass it is to have animals in the city.” Hellhounds are known to be protective and prickly and it would literally put such a damper on my social life if one followed me everywhere.
He stands and lifts both arms by his sides. “You never know, Lemon. This is wild country, and sometimes it gets ahold of ya, diggin’ under your skin and refusing to let you go. So, welcome to Pine Gulch, where the land kisses the sky.”