Chapter 9
chapter
nine
Harriet
And that is what spurs me into action. First, I call the sheriff. He’s a minotaur, for the record, and seems to be a good guy. But he had a word of warning for me—Chris has a temper and his threats should not be considered empty. They’ve evidently had some issues with him in the past.
Nothing too violent so far, but he seems to be extremely territorial. So, if he felt he had a claim on me, then he might make good on his threat to Jace.
Ultimately there was nothing the sheriff could do since the threat wasn’t made against me and instead another party. But I know Jace won’t make a formal complaint.
I tried messaging him to convince him, but he’s not worried. Refuses to take it serious at all. So now I have to take matters into my own hands. Grab the bull by the horns. Or the satyr’s horns, as it were.
All I can think about is the fact that Jace’s horns and hooves won’t protect him against the claws and fangs on the beefed-up, angry kitty.
So, for the third night in a row, I come to the abandoned church. The music pours out into the darkness. I grip the zip ties in my hand tighter. In my other hand, I’m holding my secret weapon, flowers from the valerian plant. Thanks to a little tidbit Jace’s friend, Xander, shared with me.
The conversation was brief, but went something like this…
“So, I need to protect Jace from this cat dude in town that got his tail all twisted up because he thinks I belong to him. Or whatever. Jace isn’t taking the threat seriously and I’m afraid he’ll get hurt.”
“You don’t think Jace can protect himself?” Xander asks.
“No, it’s not that. I mean it’s sorta that, but only because he doesn’t have claws or fangs.”
“True, but he’s got a mean mother fucking kick.”
“Well, that’s good to know. But it’s my fault he’s in this mess and he refuses to take it seriously.”
“What are you thinking you want to do?” Xander asks.
“I want to kidnap him and take him somewhere I know he’ll be safe.”
“You want to kidnap him? A nearly seven foot tall satyr?”
“Yes?” it comes out as a question even though I don’t mean it that way.
“Fuck, you’re perfect for him.”
“Uh, thanks. So, does he have any weaknesses? I mean I don’t suppose if I startle him—say throw a ball at him—it’ll make him faint? Like those adorable fainting goats.”
Xander laughs. “That would be fucking awesome if he did that, but no. He’s not a fainting goat.
Okay, here’s what you need. He has an allergy or is just super sensitive to valerian flowers.
We had to yank up all the plants over by that church where he plays piano because it makes him crazy lethargic. ”
“Perfect!”
“So, get him woozy and then zip tie his hands together and throw him in your car. It wears off quickly though, so you need to be quick.”
And now here I am in my car with a very surly and unamused satyr in my back seat.
“Harriet, this is ridiculous,” Jace mutters from behind me.
“Can you just humor me, please? Or I can turn around and we can go directly to the sheriff’s office, and you can file a complaint.”
He turns and stares out the window, his jawline clenches.
“He’s dangerous.”
“I can protect myself,” he growls.
“Well, that might be, but I want to make sure you’re safe since this whole mess is my fault.”
I pull around the back of Atticus and Vivian’s house to the gravel drive behind.
“Where are we?” he asks.
“My friend Vivian and her zom-bae live here.” I turn around and face him with a big grin. “Did you see what I did there?”
“You’re about as subtle as my dick.”
I gasp. “Jace! Did you make a joke?”
He rolls those golden eyes. “I do have a sense of humor. You should remember that from my classes.”
“Oh, I do,” I say. I get out of the car and then go around to the back to unlock his door and help him out.
“Do your friends know you kidnapped me?”
“Yes. And so does your friend, Xander. It was actually his idea for me to use the valerian flowers.”
“He’s a fucker.”
I laugh. “Come on, grumpy, let’s get you inside and I can untie you.” Then I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “Or maybe I’ll leave you restrained and have my way with you.”
“Don’t joke about that, Harriet.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Why are you assuming it’s a joke. I kissed you last night. I probably would have done more if Steroid Kitty hadn’t shown up.”
He barks out a laugh. “Stop making this pleasant.”
“Do you want to be angry with me?” I ask.
He glares at me.
“Because I have to tell you that the whole growly, scowly thing you have going only makes you more attractive.”
He just grunts in response, which makes me giggle.
I lead him inside the cottage which, though it’s called a gardener’s cottage, is actually a three-bedroom home with all the other amenities of a fully functional house.
I type in the security code by the door and give Jace a pointed look. “We’re locked inside and cat-boy can’t get in.” I cut the zip ties off his wrists. “Plus, Atticus has cameras installed outside. So we’d be alerted if he came onto the property.”
“This is ridiculous. I’m a grown man.” He tugs on his tail. “Well, satyr. Whatever.”
“Vivian said she had the kitchen fully stocked for us. Are you hungry?”
“Always.” He follows behind me, hooves scraping against the tile floor as he moves.
He grabs an apple off the bowl on the granite countertop and bites into it.
“Do you think there’s a reason why you turned into a satyr? Like does the type of monster reflect something about your character.”
He pauses his chewing briefly before finishing and swallowing. “I don’t know. Never actually thought about it.”
“Are there any other satyrs?” I ask.
He shrugs. “None of my friends are satyrs, but I didn’t live here when that night happened. My former fiancee wanted to go to the town’s Halloween party.”
“You were engaged? Is she still here in town?”
“Yes and no. She left shortly after the incident.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. I’m not. We were all wrong for each other. Right on paper, I suppose. She’s a fellow music professor. Brilliant in her own right, but we didn’t love each other.”
Should that make me feel better? That he got hurt right after being turned into a satyr? Because I’m not gonna lie, it does make me feel better. I like knowing he didn’t love her.
I realize that doesn’t mean he loves me. But couldn’t it mean that the possibility exists?
“In fact, I compiled all my research and what I would use if I could testify on your brother’s behalf. I sent it to Lynn.”
I inhale sharply. “You had no right to do that. What if she uses any of that and twists it on behalf of the other party? Jace.” I shake my head and grab my phone sending a text to my brother.
ME: Hey you. How are things today?
STEVEN: Good. This song is all vibrance and heat.
ME: You’re composing?
STEVEN: Yes. It should be ready soon. I think it’s about you. It’s like a pink flame.
I swipe at my eyes. God, I love my brother.
ME: You should call it Harriet’s theme.
STEVEN: We’ll see.
STEVEN: Did you hear from my attorney?
My stomach drops and a wave of nausea rolls through me.
I shoot a glare at Jace. I shouldn’t be angry with him.
I asked him for help. Begged him. I know that he can’t very well clomp into a courtroom outside of Screaming Woods.
Doesn’t matter how brilliant Jace is, he could never do what I asked of him. Yet, he still tried to help.
“I’m sorry I yelled. I know you were just trying to help,” I say.
“I get it. You’re protective of your brother,” he says, turning to walk out of the kitchen.
I send another text to Steven.
ME: No. Why?
STEVEN: Evidently some expert presented a solid explanation of how the plaintiff’s claims were false.
STEVEN: They dropped the case.
ME: Oh my God, Steven, why didn’t you call me? We could have celebrated.
STEVEN: I am celebrating. Harriet’s theme, remember?
ME: Yes. I love you, little bro.
STEVEN:
STEVEN: Thank you for whatever you did for the lawsuit. I know you had something to do with it.
ME: Any time.