Page 120 of Home to the Hollow

“That almost sounded natural, baby,” I laugh, shaking my head. Prez has lived here for a few years, but he’s still shedding his international flair for a more small town dialect. It helps me relax and I lick my lips. “I asked her on a date. It was like I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Ooooh. Now Ihaveto meet this woman. Where are you taking her?” Presley stops eating to rest his chin on his hands and bats his lashes at me as if we’re gossiping over a fence.

Why was I worried again? Presley Hemingway Hamiltonis the least prepossessed person I’ve ever met, and it’s just not in his nature to be a jealous asshole.

“She’s supposed to work at the stables, so I asked her to lunch Friday so I can give her a tour and introduce her to the horses.” I give him a shy smile, ducking my head as he watches me with fondness. He’s the very definition of a soft Dom, and though I know he’s a switch at heart, he’s always given me exactly what I need to feel safe.

Those of us who got adopted by families when we were abandoned by our actual parents have a distinct trauma around loss and stability. My adoptive parents were wonderful to me, but my father passed and my mother is… not well. I’m one of the lucky ones who at least knows who one of my proper parents is, but given my biological mother’s temperament and refusal to name my father, it’s less of a boon than people think. Knowing the truth doesn’t always lead to a happy ending, which is why Presley has never sought his parents out. He’s happier not knowing, and I respect that.

“An equine lover? Oh my, Wolfgang. I think you’ve found a winner! Do you know how long she was gone or why she moved back?”

I shake my head. Jolene was so skittish that I didn’t get much information and if it hadn’t been for Hazel, I might not have had a date at all. “It was a short encounter, Prez. Hazel barged her way in, and helped the two of us stop tripping over our tongues.”

He bursts out laughing, eyes dancing as he reaches over and takes my hand. “Always the shy one, love. If your girl is as reserved as you, you’ll be courting her until the sky falls. Trust me… not everyone is as extroverted as me with going after what they want—Jolene may not make the first move like I did.”

I wrinkle my nose and lace our fingers, but I know he’s right. Prez isn’t always jabbering like most extroverts, but he pursued me doggedly until I agreed on a date. It only took one night for us to realize there was something serious calling us to one another. I’ve been waiting for the mating moment to appear, but it’s been stubbornly elusive. I even checked with my old Guardian to make sureIwasn’t doing something wrong, but she said that can happen quickly or over time and I should just be patient.

Now this girl has walked into town and I know I felt something the second her eyes met mine. I don’t know what it was, but there was an electricity that made my entire body tingle with anticipation as I looked up at her from that floor.

I should tell him. What if it’s something important?

“Prez, when I kneeled to pick up the pencil she dropped, I looked up at her and when our eyes met, it was like someone had electrocuted me. I’ve never felt that before.”

“Oh, Lucy,” he sighs and squeezes my palm. “You’ve found another mate. What did the idiot before meteachyou kids? At least Bane should have told you what finding a mate feels like for each species. I don’t know about your mother’s side, but we know your father’s side is Unseelie. That sparkling shock that probably made your cute ears twitch is a sign.”

Another… mate? I haven’t mated with the one I have!

Presley tugs on my hand, urging me to rise from my seat. I let him pull me into his lap, looking down at him as he brushes my hair out of my eyes. “Lucy, our time will come. I know what my kind feels and that doesn’t happen if it’s not going to be two ways. Our time simply isn’t fated yet. And there’s no way I’m going to be upset if this girl might lead you on the path to our moment, baby. Don’t you dare worry about that; it’s not my style.”

I flush bright red and bury my face in his neck, arms wrapping around him tightly. Presley Hamilton is the one of the best supes on the fucking planet, and if Jolene is even half as amazing as him, I’m going to be one lucky son of a bitch.

Now, if I can only make it to Friday without bursting…

Week One

Today has been abitchof a day.

That little toad, Longworth, was running his mouth from the moment he walked in the door after lunch. Apparently, some chit moved home after being gone since high school and they topped his gossip meter off like a Guinness at a pub crawl. He was damn nearsalivatingas he regaled the admin staff in the break room. I’ve never liked the lascivious feel of the grapevine in this town, and the whispers this afternoon confirmed why. The people who feel like their families rule this place look down on every other citizen as if they’re unworthy of their presence—even a shitty little troll like Aldous Basil Longworth.

His wife was a witch with a fortune of her own, and hishumanfamily made their fortune in tobacco. I did some digging when I first arrived, always cautious of those I have to work with, and found her death was… questionable. Given his proclivity for running around town with that ‘personal assistant’ of his, I’d bet their marriage was one of political alliance. His daughter Ophelia was a hybrid placement, and she’s definitely as venomous as he is. I’d bet they treated Anastasia Keene like garbage when she was alive.

I have no patience for people like that—supe or otherwise. My lifespan dwarfs theirs by millennia, and there’s absolutely no reason to allow that kind of soul-sucking bullshit anywhere near you. I delight in causing chaos in the shriveled dandy’s day, and Mayor Cornelia rarely chides me for it. She inherited Aldous as part of his family’s deal when the Society bought the town, so she doesn’t have a choice but to employ one of their family members as her assistant until their line dies out. I’d have no problem fixing that situation for her, but she’s adamant that children shouldn’t pay for the sins of their elders.

Alas, even she isn’t old enough to accept that children almost only pay for the crimes of their family throughout the entirety of history, no matter what species you study.

The shrewish asshole was in all of his glory today, so I left work in a foul mood. I sent Odie home ahead and headed for Atwater’s, picking up some sustenance. I’d go to the Speakeasy, but I have the feeling it’ll be another hotbed of trash talk about this fascinating woman and I’d prefer to meet her in person before I decide if the rumors are true. They make her out to be a homely, roly poly idiot who made a fool of herself at one of their stupid balls, and while it may be correct, that was over a decade ago. Surely she’s not so objectionable as an adult?

Suddenly, a solid body rounds the corner of the snack aisle, crashing into me with the force of a person on a mission. I shake my head, blinking at the wild-eyed beauty looking at me as if she wants to sink through the floor into the center of the Earth. Her emerald eyes remind me of my previous home, and the bouncy ponytail makes her look years younger than I assume she is. It occurs to me this must be the infamous Jolene because I’ve never seen her before and she’s wearing a baseball tee with an art pun on it. I know the Mayor approved her application for a license for her gallery and I was hoping to talk her into one of my ‘special’ business names once I met her.

That’s not gonna happen; this girl looks sharp as a tack.

“Easy there, Tíogair. No need to knock me into the bloody biscuits.” Her face turns a lovely shade of scarlet, and I give her a charming smile. She starts to speak, but the two giant cats on either side of her pin their ears back and curl their lips at me.

Jolene looks down at them disapprovingly, and then back at me sheepishly. “It was my fault. Don’t be dicks.”

“Aye, lass. It’s okay. Your wee caits don’t scare me.” I just grin wider as the cats sit, their eyes still narrowed on me. “I’m glad you didn’t knock the messages out of my arms, or I would have to get banjaxed at the sodding pub instead.”

I sure as fuck didn’t want to do that when I came, and I’m even less inclined now that I’ve seen the lass. Her family definitely has some Irish in them, even if it’s her bio parents. The garbage Aldous was spewing made it sound like she’s a ‘lost one’ because she didn’t emerge in her teens and still hasn’t done so in her thirties. It is odd for her to still be waiting for her moment—the percentage of hybrid orphans that never emerge is slim to none. I’m about to ask her name when I realize she’s babbling an apology.

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