2. Wilder
Wilder
After I leave Pine Gulch’s cute little coffee shop, I hit up a couple other businesses to run errands—the post office to pick up some packages, the feed and hardware store to replace the multitool I lost in my move to this haven, then to the Auction House to look up some ranch plans.
It ain’t that I don’t trust the firm the Sandoval family hired to manage the sale of their estate to me; it’s more that I like to find things out myself. The devil’s in the details, as the humans say, and sometimes the details need reviewing.
Half an hour of research in the Auction House’s basement tells me a few interesting tidbits I can use in our final negotiations, so I consider it time well spent. It’s weird to me that this monster haven uses the Auction House almost as a town hall, and they don’t have a dedicated town hall.
Then again, Pine Gulch ain’t like most of the fifty-odd other hidden monster towns around the world.
I expect it’s kinda like the human world’s Wild West. Which is part of what drew me here.
That and a line of buckin’ bulls I can’t wait to own.
An injury last rodeo season pretty much retired me, and I always knew I’d want to breed bulls once I couldn’t ride ‘em anymore.
Pine Gulch is a dream come true in every way.
Chores complete, I walk back up Main Street, admiring how cute this little town is.
The town herself has quite the personality too.
This monster haven doesn't have a Keeper, but the gargoyle sheriff functions like a mayor instead.
He doesn't seem particularly into the job, but that suits me just fine. I don’t like a lot of administrative overhead, and I came here to retire from the bull riding circuit without being totally out of the loop.
It takes me a solid half hour to walk back to the little cottage I’m renting on the outskirts of downtown.
I purposely picked the farthest option so I’d have a little bit of peace and quiet until the sale’s done and I can move to my new ranch.
Most of my belongings are in storage, and I can’t wait to be surrounded by my things.
For someone who traveled a lot on the circuit, I’m a bone-deep homebody.
My mind drifts to the odd interaction I had with that male gargoyle earlier.
He’d’ve been my type if he wasn’t calling me a motherfucker and claiming a table that’s obviously there for any customer to use.
I thought maybe I knew him. Maybe we’d dated sometime, somewhere.
Maybe he was a buckle bunny, and we’d hooked up.
But no. I think he was just an asshole with a chip on his shoulder.
Maybe an entitled male from a fancy gargoyle house with a long line of protectors in their genealogy.
Wouldn’t be the first time some monster tried to lord their swanky bloodline over mine.
When I reach the cottage that’s my temporary home, I wave at her. Sweet girl that she is, she waggles both shutters and slowly creaks the front door open.
“Thanks, sugar pie,” I drawl, rubbing the edge of the door as I pass through the doorway.
Inside, my things are spread out all over the kitchen table.
I’ve barely used the kitchen, although I intend to change that now that I’m unpacked.
A wall divides half the space, the bedroom situated behind it.
It’s a small place, but I don’t need much.
Heading for the kitchen table, I drop my bag and grab the round communication disk that allows us to call between different monster havens. Setting it in the middle of the table, I press the activation button.
“Call Willa Lane in Laporte haven.”
Several beeps echo from the flat disk before my sister, Willa, appears as a hologram that rises tall and life-sized. She beams at me, green eyes that match mine sparkling with mischief.
“Hey, sis.” I root around in my bag, pulling things out and placing them back into organized stacks on the table.
“You’re frustrated, Wild,” she says without preamble. “Tell me everything.”
I sigh and look up at my best friend in the whole world. “It’s still uncanny how you do that. You ain’t even a witch or nothin’, Wills.”
She shrugs and pretends to pick at her long emerald-green pointed nails.
She got more of our father’s troll coloring than I did, her skin a deeper, richer shade of green than mine.
I might as well be human except for the sickly hue of my skin.
He didn’t pass on a troll’s magical ability to build things.
Shit, I didn’t even get the telltale tusks of my father’s kind, something nobody can seem to explain.
About the only thing I did get from that asshole was my size.
Willa sucks at her teeth with a triumphant smile. “So, what’s got that little furrow between those pale brows, brother? Do I need to come beat some pretty little buckle bunny’s ass?”
This is probably the thing I love best about my sister.
I’m pushing three hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, and she’s half my size, but if she thought someone hurt my feelings—as if they even could—she’d rip them to shreds.
Shit, I’ve thought she might do that a time or two with a couple crazy exes.
I shake my head. “Nothin’ like that. I was at the cute little coffee shop workin’ on purchase paperwork, and this gargoyle came up and called me a motherfucker for sitting at his table.”
Willa’s eyes spring wide, and she plants her hands on her hips, cocking one to the side. “He what now? You beat him black and blue?”
I laugh. “Not hardly. I mouthed off to him, and he took off. But it don’t sit right with me. I need to make friends here, not enemies, when I’ve been in town all of three days.”
She looks me over, top to bottom, in that assessing way she has. She’s reading things about me, I can tell. And any minute, she’s gonna—
“He was hot, huh?”
I run both hands through my short blond hair. “Sexy glasses and everything. Fit but delicate. Real pretty. Couldn’t possibly seem more dramatic, though, and you know I don’t need drama.”
She fakes a shudder. “Not after that last one, Wild. I swear I thought I might have to hire a hitman to get rid of him.”
We share a laugh. Success on the bucking circuit has brought me a certain level of fame, and with that comes attention. Some of it’s good, some of it’s fun, and some of it’s a pain in the ass.
Willa waggles her dark green brows. “So, where’d you leave it with him if you didn’t smash his nose in for shit-talkin’ you?”
I shrug and sit down in the closest chair. It creaks under my huge weight, and I make a mental note to ask my landlord if they have anything more oversized. Last thing I wanna do is break furniture that ain’t made for a male of my heft.
“I extended an olive branch when I left and let him know the table was open. He just sassed me and threatened to sic his pit hell on me.”
Willa cocks her head to the side. “Pit hell? What on earth is that?”
“Pine Gulch thing,” I explain. “Some human brought in a pit bull from the outside human world, and it mated to a hellhound. Now the place is overrun with pit hells. Some of ‘em have bonded to folks, but mostly, far as I can tell, they run wild. Buncha cuties, though. Wouldn’t mind having one.”
My sister shudders. “Be careful, Wilder. Hellhounds are so dangerous. You’re strong, but you ain’t invincible, as you know.”
I roll my left shoulder, the one I injured on a bull last season. Now it’s a great weather detector because it aches and aches when snow’s rollin’ in.
“How’s home?”
She shakes her head, baring her tusks at me. “Ye olde changing of the subject, Wild?”
I laugh. “Yeah, girl. What’s new with you?”
She smiles softly. “Mama’s on a tear about buying another cuttin’ horse. She’s never gonna find love if she keeps this busy. And I’m just doing my thing. I should say, as your lawyer, that I’m fucking thrilled to be wrapping up this purchase real soon.”
We catch up for a half hour before my shoulder starts twinging.
Snow’s coming within a day, I’d wager. I hang up with Willa and return to my stack of paperwork.
Now that I’ve got details from the Auction House’s records department, I need to compile a list of questions for the rep handling the sale of the Sandoval estate.
Working through the details I uncovered, I start on my list of questions.
My mind keeps circling back to that pretty male at the coffee shop, though.
Dusky purple skin and darker purple horns.
Bookish-looking glasses he probably doesn’t need, although they served to highlight faint purple freckles on his high, angular cheekbones.
He wasn’t big for a gargoyle, but still bigger than most other male monsters.
Pretty wings tucked tightly behind his back, and the three-fingered hands I find so attractive.
A gargoyle was my first love, and if I’m honest, they’re the monster I find myself most attracted to.
Too bad the one I met this morning seemed like such a jackass.