Page 35 of Starry with a Chance of Nightshade

Torid sat up and hung his head out the open window, his jowls flapping in the wind. He pulled his head in and pawed at the glove box, whimpering as he did. He’d been against us coming back to Grimm Cove. For good reason.

It was a stupid idea.

I knew that, but I was here all the same.

Scratching behind his ear, I watched the road as I drove. “I know you think this a bad idea, but something is drawing me back here.”

Very bad idea.He blinked over at me, his tongue still flapping.Out of…fire…into the www-iiitch’s pot.

It took me a second to realize what he was trying to say. I laughed softly. “The saying is ‘out of the fire and into the frying pan.’”

He shrugged much like a human would. His displeasure with my life choices was cut short as we approached his favorite ice cream place. I wasn’t sure Hobgoblin’s Dairy Hut (Gobbs) would still be open after all these years, but there it was. Nothing about it had changed, and I do mean nothing. It was an ice cream place with a building that looked like a cottage, tucked into a grouping of Alice-in-Wonderland-size toadstool mushrooms.

Torid did his version of happy butt wiggling in the passenger seat. He began barking nonstop, as excited as the first time he’d ever seen it when I’d first come to Grimm Cove University. Though his elation had tempered some back then when he’d learned that no actual hobgoblins or goblins of any sort were residing at Gobbs, despite the name.

Torid whimpered as he put his chin to the window frame, staring at Gobbs as we drove past, toward the gas station ahead. I knew he was lonely and often missed being around his own kind. I got it. I missed getting to form human relationships too, but our lives didn’t exactly allow for that.

“How about I get you an ice cream cone from Gobbs after I put some gas in the car?” I asked, hoping to lift his spirits. “I know you like it.”

His nub of a tail wiggled a mile a minute as he panted.Yu-mmy.

I pulled into the gas station and up to a pump. When I saw the price of gas per gallon, I did the math in my head to figure out how much I could get with the money I had left and still be able to eat and get Torid his ice cream until I could find a job. Four gallons wouldn’t go far, but it would keep the car running, at least for now.

The upside, if one could be found, with me returning to Grimm Cove was that the very house I was here to investigate had still been available to rent—for nearly nothing. The same as before. Although now I understood why the previous tenants hadn’t lasted long.

Over the years, I stopped at different libraries to use their computers, wanting to monitor rental listings in Grimm Cove, always fearful someone else would be gullible enough to fall for the cheap living arrangement as we had. As far as I’d been able to tell, no one had resided there in the past eighteen years. Not since the apocalyptic shitstorm had taken place.

I needed to secure a job. That was next on my list. I knew Chicken on a Pitchfork and the bar I’d worked at in college were options, but it was best I keep a low profile. I didn’t need the police finding out I was in town. Not with the rap sheet I’d managed to accumulate over the past eighteen years. I wasn’t proud of it, but there was very little I could do to change it.

“Stay here and don’t get in any trouble,” I said to Torid as I exited the vehicle, heading for the station to pay.

ChapterThirteen

Astria

I enteredthe service station instantly noting the heavy smell of oil. A young woman, who was in her late teens or early twenties, was behind the register. She smiled. “What can I get you?” she asked, her voice tinged with the South.

“Eight dollars on pump two, please,” I said.

Nodding, she keyed it into the register, and I handed her the money, glancing around at the junk food options on the counter. My stomach growled, but I ignored it. I had some snacks and cans of beef stew that I’d gotten on clearance in the car. I could pick at those later. No need to waste money.

The girl behind the counter glanced at me again, her gaze going to my exposed arms. To the symbols that covered them. They looked a lot like tattoos. The last time I’d been in Grimm Cove, I’d not had any tattoos. Now I was covered in them. I nearly laughed at how much I’d changed and hardened over the years. I had piercings now in addition to the markings on me and didn’t run around in university apparel.

“Sweet ink,” she said, her eyes widening. “I want a tattoo, but my dad is against it. Love your piercings too. I got my belly button pierced but I’m holding back on telling him until I’m closer to thirty or something.”

I tried and failed not to laugh a little. “Not a fan of tats, is he?”

“I’m sure he is, just not on me,” she said.

“Gotcha,” I replied.

A tall, incredibly striking man came walking in from a side door that looked to lead to the garage portion of the service station. He had on tan overalls and was wiping his hands on a dark red cloth. His dark hair was cut short, and he had a five o’clock shadow that looked like it might be there all the time. He appeared to be around my age, putting him in his early to mid-forties.

He noticed me and gave a slight nod before focusing on the girl behind the register. “Cadee, put a call in to Dr. Jekyll. Let him know his car is all done and that it came in a little under the estimate. He can pick it up any time after four today. Can you also let Stratton Bright know I’m done changing the brake pads on his truck and rotating the tires?”

“Can do, Dad,” said Cadee. “Don’t forget that I promised Aunt Yolanda I’d help her at the café this afternoon and tomorrow morning. You’re going to need to fend for yourself for dinner tonight. Don’t just order pizza. If you do, eat a salad or something with it.”

He took in a deep breath. “What about school?”

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