Chapter 3 Coco
Coco
It’s the ley lines.
I saw them right after I arrived.
They run like a spiderweb down to the site, rivers of milky threads humming with magic. Before they enter the construction zone, they’re strong, almost sentient, alive and thrumming.
But as they race under the poured concrete, I feel a shift.
The ley lines deaden. Their energy falters, becoming dim, flat.
They struggle to breathe. It reminds me of a clogged pipe or artery.
Something is in the way, blocking the path.
That something can only be the materials Stone Maddox is using to build his resort.
Which means he is killing the magic—magic that only recently reappeared. Magic my town is banking on to bring in tourist money.
It’s only been a few months since the piggycorns received their power to generate electricity. Even now, there are rumors that unicorns are once again being born with power.
Magic is back and I can’t let it die.
Stone Maddox, however, doesn’t appear to appreciate this.
Worse, there are no laws or regulations regarding materials for ley lines. Legally, he’s not doing anything wrong.
But magically? That’s a different story.
Officially, I’m supposed to base permit approvals on town records and topography reports. Unofficially? Since today is my first assignment, I’m pretty much going with what I see, and what I see is not good.
But I can’t admit this to anyone. If my supervisor discovers I’m using magic in my decisions, I can be fired, branded unstable.
Or worse. Much, much worse.
Stone scowls and when he does, his anger seems to make him grow, and I feel the familiar urge to disappear.
“What are you talking about, we’ve got to stop?” he demands.
I run my hand down a beam, searching for a hum of power and receiving a weak whisper. “What materials are you using?”
He taps his fingers to his belt impatiently. Behind him, the lambicorn bleats. “What do you think I’m using? It’s reinforced concrete and steel beams.”
I nod to a spot where the men are paving an outdoor pavilion. “And the stone?”
He drags his gaze from me to them. His jaw flexes, unflexes. “It’s synthetic. Look, everything is state of the art, efficient. Eco-friendly.”
“But it’s not ley line friendly. These aren’t—”
“‘Ley line friendly’?” He laughs in my face. “That’s the stupidest— What’s that even supposed to mean?”
My hackles rise. Stupid? I’m not being stupid!
Power builds in my hands. One of the lines running out from under the resort pulses red.
Not again.
I curl my fingers and exhale to get my emotions under control. I can do this. I can prove to Stone Maddox this is important—for the city.
“The materials must be different when you build around ley lines,” I lie.
Hopefully, he’s not familiar with the city zoning ordinances.
Stone rubs a hand down his face. “What are you talking about?”
“Just as I said.”
“Look . . .”
Something wars in his eyes, and I get the feeling that whatever is causing this reaction, it’s bigger than me dropping this news.
He speaks slowly, as if every word pains him. “No one said anything about the materials and the ley lines. That is a lambicorn. Lambicorn. We literally just found it, so I’d say the ley lines are doing fine. Besides, how would you know if they’re not? Can you see them or something?”
“No, of course I can’t see them,” I snap. “Why would you even ask me that?”
“Because you’re talking about them as if you know they’re here.”
“Well”—I throw my hands up—“they’re everywhere in Mystic Meadows. Everyone knows that. It’s common knowledge.”
He folds his arms. “Really? Common knowledge? Hey, Isaac?”
Isaac puts down the two-by-four he’s carrying. “Yeah, boss?”
“Did you know ley lines are everywhere in Mystic Meadows?”
“No, sir. I did not.”
“And did you know that if we build here, we have to use different materials than what we’re already using?”
Isaac scratches his head. “Say what?”
“Exactly!” Stone turns back to me with his lips quirked in a triumphant look. “See? No one knows this. How do I know you’re not making it up?”
I straighten to my full height of short and grind out, “I am an official from Zoning. I would not make this up.”
He bends down and I get a prime seat to his jade-green eyes—eyes that might make another woman swoon but make me want to kick him in the shins.
He pokes my collarbone. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I think you’re a little bureaucrat trying to feel big, and I’m not biting. Go take your bullshit somewhere else. Better yet? Go push some more pencils into your head. Maybe they’ll give you some brains.”
The papers I’m holding fall from my hands and plop to the ground. I cannot believe he just talked to me like that.
He spins on his heel, showing me his back. “I’m not helping you clean those up.”
“I don’t need your help.”
He waves as he walks off. “Next time, send someone who knows what they’re talking about. Someone who can actually do their job.”
Then he dismisses me like I’m a big nobody idiot.
Well, I’m not a big nobody idiot.
I collect the mess of papers and chase him down, feeling like a stupid Stone Maddox fangirl who doesn’t know when to go home.
I jump in front of him. “Down there.”
“What?”
I point down the hill. “There’s a dark patch of earth.”
“And what’s that got to do with me?”
“See? The earth is dying because the lines are affected by your materials.”
He stares in the distance with a baffled expression. “What are you talking about?”
I point again. “Over there.”
“First of all,” he counters, “I know for a fact the ley lines originate near Wadley Farms.”
“There’s more than one set,” I argue.
“And how do you know that?”
“Because . . . everyone knows that.”
“No, they don’t. Even if you think what you’re seeing is a dark patch of earth because the ley lines are getting scrambled or whatever, you’re not. That’s normal earth. A normal patch. If everyone blamed brown grass on ley lines, we’d all be crazy.”
“Maybe I’m crazy.”
He comes nose to nose with me. “Maybe you are.”
But I’m not.
An ache blooms in my temple. I rub it to ease the throb.
“I bet that if I snooped around, I would discover the magic is beginning to deaden in town. Magic needs nature to thrive. It needs natural things. All of this”—I gesture to the concrete, the synthetic materials—“is killing it. I’m sure we can come up with some alternatives, something that will work. ”
He walks backward, nearly stepping on the lambicorn, who bounds away just in time.
“Do you have any idea how much money we’ve already spent?
How much more material we’ve ordered? You’re asking me to destroy hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of building and start over. Have you lost your mind?”
I flinch. His words slap. I’ve dealt with nasty people before, but his insult stings.
I open my mouth. Close it again.
Then I reply coldly, “I don’t appreciate you talking to me that way.”
“And I don’t appreciate being told by a pencil-pushing bureaucrat I’m supposed to bow down to some theory. This! This is all my brother and I have to prove we can succe— Dammit! Why do I say too much around you?”
His words strike me hard and there’s a beat where our gazes lock, our breathing syncs, and the pulsing ley lines hum through me.
It feels like a purr rippling through my veins, and for once, my fingers aren’t sparking. Just stillness. Just him and me.
God help me.
And as quickly as the sensation flares, it vanishes.
Stone’s jaw tightens, instantly reminding me that we are two people on opposite sides of this argument.
“Please,” I murmur quietly. “We only just got the strengthened ley lines back in Mystic Meadows. We can’t lose them again. My town’s future hinges on this.”
Stone’s voice is restrained when he speaks, as if he’s holding back from shouting.
“I am building a multimillion-dollar state-of-the-art facility in anticipation of how much tourism will rise here. I’m investing everything I have into this.
So is my brother. So is my cousin. This is everything we’ve got, and you’re telling me I’m supposed to bust it all up and start over?
” His jaw clenches. “No. You can get lost.”
Stone storms off, gravel crunching under his boots. The lambicorn bleats pathetically as it follows. The poor thing’s probably starving.
Stone opens the trailer door and slams it shut behind him, leaving the lambicorn outside.
Lava rolls through my veins. What a jerk. Obviously, I didn’t give Stone good news. I own that. But the poor lambicorn is innocent. The creature can’t help it picked the worst mother in the world to nurture it.
Trust me, lambi, I know the feeling.
I charge over, scoop up the lambicorn, and bang on the door.
It flies open and Stone sticks his head out. “What?”
I press the baby into his arms. “I present your lambicorn.”
He pushes it back. “Take it. You have a mothering instinct—the kind of helicopter personality that’ll keep it bound in Bubble Wrap until it’s twenty.”
He slams the door in my face.
I open the door and walk in.
Stone whirls around and fumes, “What are you doing?”
“I’m giving you your lambicorn. Clearly the creature has terrible taste, but it picked you as its mother, so here you go.”
I place the lamb on the floor. Stone has removed his hard hat and set it on a desk—which is very neatly put together, I might add, with files organized, the surface, uncluttered. It even smells nice in here, like sand and sea spray.
“It’s not mine.” He closes the space between us. His body thrums with anger, and it wafts off him in sheets of heat that warm my skin. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
“It’s yours.” I poke his arm. “How many times do I have to tell you?” There’s a long pause where it feels like the air has left the room.
I lower my voice, doing my best to tamp down my frustration.
“I’m sorry we got off to a bad start, but I’m here to help, to work with you.
Someone should have come out sooner, but I only recently got hired to replace my predecessor.
If you would just let me show you what I think—”
“No,” he snaps, venom lacing his voice. “I’m not changing the materials, and neither is my brother. We’re pushing forward. There’s a deadline. Supplies have been ordered. We’re doing what we’re doing, and that’s it.”
I brush hair from my face, and his gaze lands on the antique ring. His eyes narrow. “Nice ring. Did you destroy that guy’s life, too? Tell me, was it before or after he proposed?”
I want to scream. “Not that it’s any of your business, but this is my grandmother’s ring. A man didn’t give it to me.”
He smirks. “Not surprising.”
“For your information, I date plenty.”
“I bet you do.”
“I do.” We stare at one another, and as if the ring has heard us, it slips from my finger and lands on the floor.
Stone stares at it for a long beat. So do I. I glare at him until he bends over, picks up the ring, and hands it to me. “For you, princess. May you hook the best fish in the sea.”
I snatch the ring from his grasp. “Like you’re some catch. You’ve got money, but the personality of a piece of plywood.”
His jaw clenches. “I sure do.”
The tension in the room defuses and I sigh, tired of fighting. “For the sake of our town, please change the materials.”
He shoots me a condescending look before rubbing a hand down the scruff on his cheek. “For the sake of this town and the tourism that’s coming, I think I’ll keep it the way it is. Now, if there’s nothing else, you may leave.”
He turns around, steps behind his desk, and plops into his chair with a heavy sigh. Conversation over. Just like that. He’s decided we’re through.
But we are not through.
I tap the top page of the bundle of sheets I’m still holding and tell Stone Maddox in the most determined voice I can muster, “Unless you change the materials you’re using, I’m shutting construction of the resort down—indefinitely.”