Page 49 of Home to the Hollow

His eyes narrow, and he taps his fingers in annoyance. Aldous didn’t know that a third companion chose me, and hell if I know why that’s vexing him, but he’s got sand fleas up his ass about it. Sitting up in his chair, he reaches for a folder, pulling out a piece of paper and sliding it over the polished surface. “This is your application. Since the Mayor rushed your last one as a personal favor, you won’t be familiar with it. You will need young Dr. Fletcher to sign off on the health of your companion. He’s in demand, so it might take you a bit to get an appointment.”

“I don’t think I’ll have a problem,” I murmur as my lips curve into a smug smile. His gaze narrows as if he is studying me, and I switch back to the Southern ingenue expression to divert suspicion.

“Rumor has it the uncatchable Judge Boone has been following you around, Miss Whitley. I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate hearing unseemly gossip about you and the town vet. Perhaps you should be more cautious about how you react to suggestions,” he snarks, a cruel smile gracing his features. His eyes are full of promises about just how that rumor would get started.

This little hobgoblin hasno ideawho he’s messing with. I’ve tried to play their game while I began my investigations, but I refuse to let the snotty elites rule my personal life. Who I spend time with—in or out of the bedroom—is no one’s business but my own.

I bat my lashes, tilting my head as if considering. “Well, he seemed a bit put out that he had to take the middle, but he didn’t get along poorly with them. Thank you for the advice, Aldous! I should take a survey of my men and ensure they feel they’re getting equal attention.” His eyes widen until I think they might pop out of his head, and he swallows. It looks like he’s going to reply, but nothing comes out as his mouth works.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I stare back at him as I wait. Jekyll and Hyde sense my impatience, and they jump up, putting paws on the desk as they snarl. When Aldous still doesn’t speak, I hold back a sigh of irritation and ask him the questions I need answered before I go. “I’m so glad we caught up! If you could point me to the town archives, I have a few things to check about property lines, and I’ll be on my way.”

A shaky hand points towards the stairs on the east end of the building, and I nod. Whistling as I walk away, I listen for the telltale tapping of my cats’ claws as they follow me. I can’t have them staying to menace Aldous, even if it would amuse me. I painted a giant target on my back to spite an odious boil, and I’m going to have enough to worry about without adding a second person claiming my cats attacked them, especially since I sort of want to let them.

Being a functional adult is bullshit, and I hate it.

Our trio takes the stairs to the creepy-looking basement, and I cross my fingers, hoping I can find some of the information I need in old dusty records and stacks. If not, I don’t know where to look next. My contacts online seemed to think that one of the best places to start is to sift through minutes from Town Council meetings. I’m not sure why they think reading through people complaining about non-themed holiday decorations or dog poop issues will reveal anything, but I’m willing to give it a go. I can’t imagine a ‘big secret’ being discussed in public forums.

Who the hell am I to judge? I’m hiding valuable clues in linens in the bathroom; I’m not the international super spy type.

I find the room marked ‘Records’ and open it, letting Jekyll and Hyde precede me. They bolt into the rows of shelves as if looking for hidden stalkers, and I chuckle. My crew needs to calm down. It’s unlikely that an assassin is hiding amongst the files and papers in this musty municipal building. However, just to be safe, I leave the door cracked before I drop into a chair at an oak table. Pulling my laptop out of my bag, I set up a space to take notes and file snippets away until I can print and assemble it on the board I’m keeping in the basement.

Yeah, I have a crazy, tin foil hat board with strings and post-it in my gun room. I’ve become a closet conspiracy theorist. Luckily, the guys don’t go down there and Seer doesn’t bother, either. I can escape to my basement of secrets whenever they’re all off on whatever adventures they have without me.

Once I’m set, I get up and walk to the rows, noting they’re organized by year and month, going back at least a hundred years. This must be the bulk of the town records—I can only assume the older stuff is stored somewhere less accessible. Documents prior to the 1900s would be valuable and delicate, and I suppose you’d have to request to view them. I hum under my breath, deciding that I should start about fifty years ago because it would be around the time my parents were born. I know that my father’s family tree begins in the Hollow and my mother met him in college at State.

I should be able to trace the changes in the town makeup by reading through the documents month by month until I hit the jackpot.

“Mow!”

“Yeah, Hyde. We’re in for alooooongafternoon, lady. Settle in. We have research to do.”

I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In

That big arsed bird has been perched on the bench for four hours. Word is it belongs to the new lass in town. It’s watching the street like it’s guarding the doorway—I don’t blame the bloody thing. I haven’t once heard jaws flap about any one person in town like they are about her since I got assigned here. Sure, there were wee scandals and outrages befitting a town of rich supes living amongst humans, but nothing on the scale of Jolene Athena Whitley’s arrival has generated.

It's ironic she's named the way she is. Can’t say I’m surprised someone has a rich sense of humor at the expense of the clueless. The relatives amuse themselves with shit like this all the time. It’s what living for millennia does to your mind—boredom is a constant battle. I’m sure dear auntie had herself a great big guffaw when the prof or one of his ilk told her.

Taking a drag, I look down the street and chuckle as I exhale. The names of the stores get me every time, and I can’t believe I managed that. Fine, I indulge in a bit of mischief to quell the monotony as well. Sue me—or don’t, because the last person who needs to be on a stand is me. His Honorable Dickweed would lose the sodding plot if he had to listen to one of these rubes try to elicit truthful testimony out of me. Actually, it might be fun. I may commit some sort of crime just to see what happens.

Sounds craic to 90, and I’m always game for that.

“Doyle, why are you standing out here drawing attention to the building like a fucking gargoyle on fire?”

I sigh, rolling my eyes as I face the dishonorable judge himself. “What areyoudoing here instead of meting out justice with Vlad and Randall? What do my taxespay for?”

Edgar snorts, shaking his head. “You work for us, idiot. You don’t pay taxes. Hell, very few people in this town do outside of tributes and the humans. Answer my question.”

“I’m having a fag, Boone. Even in the South you can’t do that inside city buildings anymore,” I shrug, my eyes cutting to the bird again. I’ve heard some members are involved with the pretty lass with eyes the color of the rolling hills of Tara, and I’m curious. I only saw her once, and that’s all it took to know that she’s bloody enchanting.

“Look, Haggerty. I can tell you’re up to something, and if I find out you’re meddling where you don’t belong, I’ll inform the Town Council. Don’t think I won’t go higher if I need to, either.” His eyes narrow as he follows my gaze, and something changes in his posture. “And leave Jolene Whitley alone—she’s mine.”

I put my hand on my chest, batting my lashes as I taunt the testosterone filled git. “Edgar, I’d swear you were sweet on the lassie. Must sting like a bee that rumors have the doctoral duo warming her bed most nights. Did you not measure up?”

His growl startles me, and before I know it, the air is filled with a fog that threatens to take over my senses, and large feathered appendages smash into my head. Motherfucker hit me on both sides, eh? We’ll see about that. The pheromones continue to choke the air, but I close my eyes and let it run through me. It’d be a waste of a good power boost not to. One of his wings hits me again, and I snap.

“You’re out of your league, Boone!” I snarl back. I won’t use both sides—it would only end in disaster for all of us. I haven’t used the gifts from my mother’s side for hundreds of years. However, my father’s side is much less destructive. Feeling the energy coast over my skin, I look at him in the eyes despite his glittering half-shifted form. My voice is smooth and low like warm honey being poured as I murmur, “You don’t want to do this, mate. The fog can’t charm me, and this will draw more attention than my smoking outside of the club. Shift back, and we’ll go have a drink at Benjy’s.”

Blinking, he tilts his head, not replying with more than a hiss of breath. I keep muttering the same instructions over and over, tracing a circle in the air as I do so. After a few minutes, the feathers fade, and I sense the mist in the air pulling back. My eyes glow as I check out the deserted street, hoping that either we got lucky and no one saw, or his powers drove them inside for more... pleasurable activities.

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