Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Dear Journal (NOT a fucking diary!),
Okay, today this maybe feels like a diary because I’m gonna gush about the fact that Hal kissed me.
Wait, let me back up. First, he gave me flowers from his garden that he had magically preserved so they’ll last longer than usual. Then he took me out for dinner—hibachi, one of my fucking faves!—and we had a great time.
The only slightly shitty thing was when his sister called and poked at him about going back to the Pacific Northwest. Hal was real firm in letting her know he plans to stay here though—with me.
I just about melted right there. I don’t know how to describe it any other way.
Hal just has that effect on me. Then he bought a book on interspecies dating for us to read together.
It’s like he’s showing me in dozens of little ways that he’s committed to being with me.
I’m trying to listen to my heart and not my fucking head, which is still real messed up after Damien.
But back to the kissing. Hal’s so fucking sweet!
I want to keep him all to myself sometimes.
He totally planned the whole thing, turned the living room into our own little dance floor and lit candles, put on some music, and danced with me.
Not like that grinding shit in the clubs.
It was more like something out of those old black-and-white movies my grandma loved.
Of course I didn’t really know my ass from my elbow when it came to those fancy moves, but Hal helped keep it simple.
And, fun fact, I discovered I love slow dancing with him.
I also learned I fucking love kissing him.
It was a real powerful kind of moment, for me anyway.
I showed him my tattoos and talked a bit about them.
That’s not something I’ve shared with a lot of people.
I even let him touch my chest and neck—and it felt good.
I wasn’t sure it would, but I shouldn’t have doubted Hal.
There’s something magical about him, I swear.
Everything we do together is always fucking amazing and oh so right.
Even though I could tell he didn’t have a lot of experience with kissing, that just made the whole thing even more damn precious.
He was a little awkward, but entirely earnest, and that meant so much more than any other kiss I’ve had in my life.
There was none of the usual pressure to get naked and move on to the main act.
Instead, we took our time and savored making out like middle schoolers doing it for the first time.
And I can’t wait to do it again. Soon.
—Skylar Wright’s Personal Journal
Late October…
Skylar
When we get to the park for our long-awaited doggy playdate, Elvira’s secured in her harness and eager to explore the green space. It isn’t long until we see Max being dragged toward us by an enormous hellhound that makes all kinds of excited whimpering noises the second he spots us.
The two hellhounds immediately start sniffing one another as soon as they get up close and personal. Six wagging tails is a sight to behold, let me tell you. Once we decide they’re friendly with one another, we let them off leash and they start chasing each other around the mostly empty park.
Max beams at us. “Thanks for agreeing to this little meetup. Waffles could really use a friend to play with who won’t get trampled under his enormous feet.”
“It looks like he and Elvira are already fast pals,” Hal observes, watching the two hellhounds roll around and wrestle a few yards away.
“What do you think, baby girl?” Max asks Princess Peach, who’s once again perched regally in the crook of his arm. Today, she’s wearing a pink shirt with the word QUEEN spelled out in silver sequins.
The tiny Chihuahua gives a funny little huff and Max chuckles. Then he sets her down and she trots over to Elvira and Waffles, head held high.
The two hellhounds pause their shenanigans when she stops and sits in front of them.
She lets out a sharp bark, and Waffles immediately flops down and shows her his belly, all three tails wagging.
Elvira and Princess Peach take a moment to sniff one another.
They each decide the other is acceptable, and in no time at all, Elvira is following Princess Peach wherever she goes, while Waffles trails behind like their enormous lackey.
“Are the kids at school?” Hal asks Max.
“Yep. And Targan is holed up in his study-slash-library completely immersed in his latest book project.” He leans closer and offers conspiratorially, “It’s actually a history of Mystic Hollow. But you didn’t hear it from me. The whole thing’s super hush-hush for now.”
Hal’s eyes sparkle. “I can’t wait to read it. I’m sure it will be fascinating.”
That’s my boyfriend who loves his books. I can’t hold back a smile, and my mind zips back to that memorable night last week—dancing with Hal, kissing Hal.
As soon as I woke up the next morning, I texted Dr. P, begging for an emergency meeting. When I saw her face on my phone screen, I spewed out a whole mess of confused feelings after my magical date with Hal.
Patient as ever, she talked me down and walked me through everything as we tried to make sense of my emotions. There were kind of a lot of them. I was happy but also scared. Scared I’d fuck this up.
She told me she thinks I’m worried about falling in love because I don’t want to get hurt again. And I have to admit, she’s probably right. Somewhere deep down, I knew that too, but I needed her to say it to my face.
The whole conversation was cathartic. I realized that, despite the fear, the one thing I have no doubts about is Hal. No matter what happened in the past, I know Hal will never betray or hurt me.
It’s taken me a hot minute to build up my courage on this front, but now I’m ready to tell Hal how serious I am about him.
But figuring out how to do that’s not easy.
Love can fucking break you just as easily as it can lift you up, I know that too fucking well.
But I want to believe in the latter when it comes to Hal.
Right then, Waffles throws back his three heads and howls, interrupting my brain wanderings. We all laugh as Elvira eagerly imitates him with her puppy awoos.
Max chuckles. “Hellhounds are such hams, I swear. But OMG, Hal, I simply must tell you what Targan’s been up to,” he says, pride written all over his face.
“Skylar, I know you haven’t met him yet, but my hulkalicious honey is brilliant.
One of the most respected Otherkind scholars in the world.
He’s been inspired by what he’s recently learned about the origins of the magic in Mystic Hollow.
He’s been in the library’s archives searching out historical texts from the earliest years on record.
From what I gather, he’s also been consulting with scholars who’ve done work on other Sanctuary Havens to compare notes and discuss theories. ”
“I don’t know much about all the Sanctuary Havens,” I say, trying to focus back on the conversation. “Are they pretty similar?”
Hal considers this. “Hmm, I’ve only visited one during my travels.
It’s out in Montana. That one was a lot more like a farming community than a town like Mystic Hollow and seemed to attract species that prefer isolation and a colder climate.
As Ryder would say, it had a very different vibe.
Not bad, just not what I was looking for. ”
Max shudders. “That’d be way too rural for me, honey. I prefer the quaint and cozy vibe of Mystic Hollow. Not too big, not too small, just close enough to everything if needed. The perfect place to raise a family.” He sighs happily.
“Mystic Hollow’s just extra special, isn’t it?” I tell Hal.
He grins, and my heart does a two-step of its own.
“That it is.”
Hal smiles at Max. “I’ll be interested to learn if Targan’s uncovered any more about the fae connection with our town’s magical origins. Astraea’s been vague about it all, only indicating that she worked with them to establish the protective magic for the Sanctuary Havens in this realm.”
Max waves a hand airily. “Not sure, but knowing Targan, he’ll leave no stone uncovered.
He’s a bit obsessive that way when it comes to his research.
” He turns to me, his eyes sparkling. “So, tell me how the salon’s shaping up and when you’ll be open.
I need to get my sweet ass in your chair and have you save my hair from its current tragic state as soon as you are able. ”
I laugh. “I’m on schedule to open on Friday when the festival starts. Akram and I are doing a Blowout and Cocktail or Mocktail special for Opening Day. I’ll be closed on Saturday since I’m helping with setup for the parade and I’m not sure about Sunday yet.”
Max gasps in a dramatic fashion and hugs himself. “OMG, sign me up, honey! That sounds like just the TLC I need to give myself.”
“See, I told you you’re going to be busy from the get-go,” Hal says, smiling brightly at me.
All of a sudden, our phones all ping with a text message from Astraea telling us to get our asses over to Town Hall ASAP. We round up the dogs and get them back on their leads before hurrying downtown. As we get closer to the building, Max is huffing and puffing.
“A pox… on mysterious… dragon goddesses… who like to be… vague and mysterious in their damn text messages!”
Princess Peach yips in agreement.
Astraea didn’t exactly spell out why we needed to get here so fast, but it’s clear it has to do with planning committee business, hence our quick pace.
“Do you think something new has happened with the magic?” I ask Hal, keeping my voice low.
He frowns. “No clue, but let’s hope not.”
It’s only a few days now until the festival starts, and I’m not sure we can handle any more trouble.
Astraea meets us on the sidewalk outside the building, a wide grin on her face.
“You’re just in time. The answer to our problems is almost here!” she announces grandly.
“You found your son?” I ask, relief washing over me.
“Thank the Goddess,” Hal adds.
Astraea’s smile falters. “Well, no. But I’ve managed to get the next best thing.”
Before she can elaborate, the throaty rumble of an engine draws our gazes to a motorcycle with a sidecar cruising up Main Street.
It pulls up to a stop at the curb in front of us, and the guy riding it pops the kickstand and dismounts.
He pulls the helmet off his head and rakes a hand through a messy faux-hawk that’s a pale shade of icy blue.
I stare long and hard because that color looks completely natural, and I’ve never seen anything like it.
His eyes, a stunning silvery gray so bright they don’t quite look human, are a little freaky. They scrutinize each of us in turn and then settle on Astraea.
“An honor to meet you in the flesh, Goddess of the Celestial Realm. Rowan Kelly, at your service.” He gives her a cocky little salute and a grin.
“Thank fuck you’re here,” Astraea growls.
Rowan looks around and nods. “The power fluctuations I’m detecting are kind of wild.” He rubs his hands together. “This is going to be fun, I can tell.”
“Are you a mage?” Hal asks, hope ringing in his voice.
I grab his hand and squeeze, relief washing over me.
“One of the best this side of the Atlantic,” Rowan boasts.
Astraea gives me a thumbs-up. “The A.S.S.E.S. ad worked. Great idea.”
I flush, pleased but also kind of uncomfortable with the public praise. Not something I’m used to. Yet.
“Ahem, I do believe you’re forgetting to mention me, your indispensable sidekick and partner in crime,” drawls a feminine voice.
We all gape as a cat daintily jumps out of the sidecar on the motorcycle and grows to the size of a motherfucking tiger in the blink of an eye. She has bright red eyes and a thick coat of fur that’s gold and white, while her features resemble a cross between a lynx and a snow leopard.
But the thing that has me freaked the fuck out is that she’s very clearly talking to us.
It’s seriously weird and kinda creepy.
Hal pulls me closer.
“This is Angelica, Ange for short,” Rowan says by way of introduction.
The enormous beast sniffs disdainfully. “Only you can call me that, Rowan. My full name is The Majestic Lady Angelica Razorclaws.”
Waffles whimpers and hides behind Max, and Elvira parks herself right in front of Hal and me, watching the creature warily. Meanwhile, Princess Peach snores softly in Max’s arm, entirely unfazed.
I decide to ask the obvious question. “Uh, Ms. Razorclaws, what are you and how are you talking to us?”
I mean, isn’t that the fucking obvious question right now?
She fixes me with a gimlet eye before lifting her furry chin in the air. “You may call me Angelica. And I’m a hellcat, of course, and this foolish mage’s familiar,” she adds, nodding her head in Rowan’s direction.
“Wow,” Hal whispers. “I’ve only read stories about them. I never thought I’d see one in my life. They rarely leave the Demon Realm.”
“Oh, aren’t you delightfully feisty,” Max coos at her.
She preens and moves to Rowan’s side, who reaches down and scratches one of her ears, making the hellcat purr.
“Familiars gain the ability to communicate in the language of their mage-guardian once they form a pact,” Rowan explains.
He shifts to rubbing under Angelica’s chin, making her purr even louder.
And that’s when a voice bellows, “What the hell is he doing here?”
We all turn to see Baxter Thunderbody stalking toward us, nostrils flaring, eyes narrowed.
Rowan eyes him up and down and smirks. “Long time no see, Bax.”
“Gasp! Could he be the one we heard about from Bax’s past?” Max stage-whispers.
From the way the two men are facing off, that story could probably rival an episode of The Young and the Monstrous.
Sylvia arrives and stands with her hands on her hips, grinning from ear to ear. “I had a feeling you’d be showing up, Rowan. How’ve you been?”
“You know each other?” Hal asks with wide-eyed innocence, still not picking up on what I think most of us already have.
Sylvia snorts with amusement. “Course I do. Rowan spent a summer here years ago when he and Baxter were dating.”