Page 125 of Home to the Hollow

I can’t help it—I burst into laughter at her saucy observation. Thishasto be the infamous Jolene Whitley, because she definitely has Zelda pegged. I’ve been dodging ‘helpful hands’ for hours as I worked in the back room, and only someone familiar with the Hollow would know the cougar’s routine. Zelda huffs at her, preparing to go on an offended rant, and I cross my arms over my chest. I kinda want to see what this bird does to take one of the reigning matriarchs down for snarking at her.

“I’m Jolene Whitley. I moved back here a day or so ago. I needed some furniture to replace the stuff at my folks’, but…” She looks at the inventory in the store, her lip curling like she’s inspecting a diseased corpse at the morgue. “… I can see that this is a little old school for my taste. I’ll let you get back to your bird removal, Mr. Hamilton.”

Hollllllyyyyyy shit. Zelda’s going to lose her mind.

My lips twitch as I fight another round of delighted laughter, arching a brow at her. “I apologize for my appearance, Jolene. Miss Zelda’s crawl space is musty.”

“I’ll bet it is,” she mutters, just loud enough for us to hear. I have to bite my cheek to keep from snorting at the implication, but she looks down at the cat on her left and speaks. “Are you ready to go, boys? I think we’ll need to look at more contemporary designs online. I don’t want to live in a museum.”

Zelda makes an affronted squawking noise, and I turn my head so she can’t see my smirk. There’s nothing incorrect about what Jolene is suggesting, and no one’s ever had the heart to tell this biddy that her precious furniture is as outdated as bell bottoms. Jolene winks at me as she passes by, head held high and giant cats in tow. I can’t seem to let it go now that I know this saucy little bird is probably my Lucy’s mate, so I call out to her before she gets through the door.

“Oh, and Jolene? It’s Dr. Hamilton.”

Her muttered curses are all I hear as she exits, and I put a hand on my chest.

Damn. I can see why Lucy’s so bloody taken with her. She’s a firecracker set to go off at any moment, and it’s hotter than hell.

* * *

After I finish cleaningup my mess at the Grant store, I head back to the office. I have more than a few physicals booked this week because it’s back to school season and I need to make certain my schedule stays on track. The sports teams will need to be completed first so they’re eligible to continue practicing, and after that, any other unemerged teens take priority over younger children.

Unlocking the door, I walk in to find a boxed lunch with a note on it, and I smile to myself. Lucy’s been here, and this is his uncanny ability to know what I need even before I do. The note is brief and to the point, letting me know where he’ll be and when he’ll be home for dinner. I shake my head fondly as I make my way to the back office, dropping my keys in the bowl by the door.

Wolfgang Lucien Fletcher is the best thing to happen to me in a very long time.

I open my laptop and the box with another exotic salad, sighing as I scan the emails that built up while I was gone. Most of them are Council or Society related—progress on patient’s and observations about certain individuals or their powers. As the town doctor in a Society enclave, they completely integrated my job with their business. I monitor the unemerged, update them on those with developing or additional skill sets, and send reports that Andromeda Bane uses for her ‘counseling’ sessions at the school. The adults in town are a much more mundane part of my job since once they emerge, their health care is centered on normal day-to-day patient woes.

When the council forced the previous doctor to retire, I was yanked out of an internship at a major hospital further South. I’d finished medical school at State U two years before that, and I planned to find an open doctor position in Asia. I’d already lived in England while I attended Swallowtail and I wanted to settle down in another new place with unusual charges to watch over. But the Fates sent me here, and I thought I’d be miserable in this small, insular town full of rich residents who barely follow the rules of their own bargain.

Then Wolfie came home from vet school to set up his practice, and from the moment I saw him, I knew. We were written in the stars for sure, but I wasn’t certain he understood. While I grew up under the supervision of active Society members and strict boarding school staff who were familiar with my kind and its needs, he grew up with an adoptive family that were never around because of their agent status. By the time he was old enough to emerge, his father had been killed, and they committed his mother. What he knew about mating and relationships was bound to be colored by that kind of trauma.

I spent months becoming his friend, learning who he was inside, and waiting for him to make a move before I realized he was far too worried about what the rest of the town would think to take a chance. So I asked him on a date and after a day of biting my nails, he came over for lunch at my office and accepted. Since then, we’ve been inseparable, and even though he understands the signals that let his kind know who their mate is, he still didn’t recognize that Jolene was when they met.

I blame his bitch of a bio mom—her negligence and refusal to tell him who his father is making this even harder than it needs to be.

What I haven’t shared with my darling boy yet is the fact that I felt the electricity the moment our eyes locked. The tingle my species gets when in the presence of a potential mate is more like a jolt to the heart, and I felt it. It wasn’t the time or place to examine that little tidbit, so I focused on the situation at hand, but that girl is definitely meant for me as well. It’s not uncommon, I know, but much like Lucy, I worry that it will be a bit much for the provincial townspeople of the Hollow.

They won’t have a choice, though, will they? Mates are mates, whether they want to accept an unconventional relationship or not.

Pausing in my musing, I look at the new email flashing on my screen. It’s from Mayor Nelia, and it’s marked urgent. I frown, clicking the button to see what is so damned important that it can’t wait until the next meeting.

Presley,

As you may be aware, a lost one named Jolene Whitley has returned home. The Society believes that she is very important and must be cared for until she reaches her full potential. No one is certain why she hasn’t emerged yet, and though it is quite late in life for it to occur, they are sure she will do so. Since you come from a different atmosphere than the Hollow is capable of providing, I would ask that you try to assist anyone who is helping her fend off the ghosts of her past. She had a very rough time during her high school years, and despite the edicts of the Council, certain behaviors are still rampant amongst the residents. I can only do so much from my position, but if she has allies looking out for her, perhaps I can spare her the pain of her youth resurfacing before she gains the powers to defend herself.

Gratefully,

Mayor Cornelia Sykes, Esq.

I stare at the screen in shock. Mayor Nelia is probably the best mayor this town has ever had—at least according to Society records—and she’s not the kind to whisper behind people’s backs. However, this email is tantamount to admitting she’s aware of the imbalance of power in town and even more aware that she can’t resolve it. I wouldn’t have expected her to admit that in writing, yet her plea says enough for me to grasp her implication.

Clearly, Jolene Whitley must be protected at all costs, and I’ve been drafted.

Week One

I’ve had an odd sensation prickling at the edge of my consciousness for a couple of weeks. The priestesses seem unconcerned, but they’re usually so hopped up on whatever the Lady gives them it’s hard to tell if they are truly comprehending my reports. Every time I have a vision, I try to catch the elusive sensation, but I never quite get it, and it’s been making me crazy.

School is about to begin, and that is typically a time of year where I’m inundated with information in the way only people with my gifts are. Some things are vitally important, while others are simply notes of what’s coming if the stars align just right. Having the sight isn’t always foolproof, and interpretation plays a huge role in determining the world altering signs and the mundane.

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