Page 119 of Home to the Hollow

VolumeThree

Week One

“Yes. I do. Um, thank you, Hazel. I’ll, um, see you… later.”

The gorgeous girl with eyes the color of emeralds skitters out the door like she’s running from a bear and I watch her curves wiggle as she gets into a vintage car. I’m mesmerized, and I suck in a breath as my body reminds me it’s been a while since I was this attracted to a woman. I vaguely hear a throat clearing and I turn to give Hazel a sheepish look.

“Wolfgang Lucien Fletcher! What will your gorgeous doctor friend say?” The smirking diner owner trots over to pour coffees and rustle up my usual lunch order without being asked, but I know she’s laughing to herself.

I follow her to the counter, a flush creeping up my neck as I feel the eyes of the townspeople on me. No one has ever made a fuss about the two doctors having a relationship, but I know there are people who aren’t exactly comfortable with our orientation. Gossip will spread like the fleas on a hound—bisexuality might be a tough pill for the stodgy small town folks to swallow.

“Prez won’t worry about it for a second, Haze. It’s not like we’re married.”

A gasp echoes from somewhere in the room and Hazel turns to glare at the room. “Listen here, you nosey parkers. This town is not representative of a typical supe lifestyle and you all know it. Whistler’s Hollow is as provincial as it gets—everywhere else multiple partners and mates are common. Mind your business or you won’t be welcome in my diner.”

My face gets even redder as I take the bag of food and coffee from her. I’m not ashamed of myself or my choices, but I’d prefer not to have people stop talking every time I walk into a room from now on. Prez will care for it even less, and my placid lover will end up losing his temper at some point.

There’s nothing that gets his back up more than judgmental assholes. When I came home from State U and we started dating, he regularly ended up in trouble with the Council for tussles with some of the less accepting people in town. Luckily for him, his kind is so rare that Mayor Nelia put an anti-discrimination law on the books and the bullshit finally stopped.

I was tiring of cleaning graffiti off our offices, so I’ll be forever grateful to her.

“You give that lovely doctor of yours a kiss from me, Wolfie. And tell him Hazel interfered today for a reason. That girl has a destiny, and it started the moment she stepped back into this town. Give her a chance.”

Nodding, I swallow hard as I walk out of the diner and down the street towards the area where our offices are located. Hazel’s kind are also rare—especially ones who can corporealize like her. The stories say she came from Italy in the first wave of Society members after the Takeover, and she was given the diner to help monitor the town for them.

I don’t know if that’s true, but Hazel is one of the wisest, kindest people in this city. She doesn’t bow to anyone, so I doubt she would have agreed to be a spy. Her actual function in the Hollow is providing a place where everyone feels comfortable and accepted, no matter what station they have in life.

She’s a goddamned treasure.

Her eerie clairvoyance has my ears poking out. Hazel purposefully helped me set up that date with Jolene, and her spooky words right before I left made my skin itch. She felt it was important that I connect with the raven haired beauty. She even mentioned destiny.

What have I gotten myself into?

* * *

“Lucy,is that you? I hope so, because I’mstarving!”

My lips curve up as my love calls out from the office in the back of the building. His sharp avian ears heard the bell at the front tinkle, I’m sure. Presley’s kind isn’t predatory—in fact, quite the opposite—but they are rare and coveted. His gifts led to being placed in the Hollow when our elder physician retired, and I thank the stars for it every day. Coming home from State U to find the perfect person waiting was a surprise I’ll never cease to be grateful for.

“I’m here to feed the hangry healer. Hazel sends her love,” I reply as I push through the reception area to the walk towards his private space.

Prez looks up from his tablet, adjusting his glasses with a bright grin. He frequently spends his breaks in his office catching up on charts and notes about his patients and Society charges, so I’m usually the one who goes to grab lunch or dinner so he remembers to eat. He may be in charge in the bedroom, but I’m the caretaker everywhere else. His forgetful genius persona isn’t an act—it’s entirely who he is, and I love every second.

“Hey, baby. What’s shaking in town?” he asks, moving the scattered shit on his desk out of the way so we can eat.

For once, I feel awkward about relating the details of my trip. In my heart, I know Prez won’t be upset that I set a date with the new girl, but it feels a little weird. We’re absolutely in a committed, open relationship, but neither of us has ever found anyone to pique our interest for more than a night. It’sneverhappened in town andneverbeen a woman. It’s not like either of us hasn’t been with women—supes outside of the Hollow are much less provincial about relationships. Polycules of all sizes and species are common in the larger extranormal community. Here, it’s a remnant of the town before the Society stepped in.

“It was… interesting,” I mumble as I pull the boxed lunches and coffees out of the thermal bag Hazel sent.

He opens his box, grinning at the huge Asian noodle salad inside. Once she learned he had certain dietary requirements for his powers, Hazel made certain there’s always special, off-menu foods for him stashed in her fridge. “Fuck, I love that woman. She always seems to know what I’m in the mood for. Why was it so interesting?”

I freeze with my club sandwich halfway to my mouth. What should I say? Ugh, I amnotbuilt for confrontation despite both sides of my lineage being known for it. “Well, there was this new girl there. I mean, notnew, because Hazel said she’s movedbackto town, but…”

“Uh-huh,” Prez says, quirking a brow as an amused look crosses his handsome features. “What about this new girl?”

“Her name is Jolene Whitley.” I cover my nervousness with a large gulp of my mocha latte, hoping I look more casual than I feel.

His chuckle is low, and Prez leans back in his chair, stacking his hands behind his head. The move pulls his scrubs tighter over his abs, and I’m distracted momentarily. “A lovely name, but I sense there’s more to this girl. You’re jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

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