Page 32 of Rhett
In a cheerful mood, I stared at the scenery while Bonnie blasted music. It didn’t take long to arrive at the crest of the long, winding road. From the top of the hill, I could see the town sprawling across the middle of the valley with a body of water surrounding it.
“What is the name of that river?” I asked, pointing over to the mass of water that seemed to extend for miles.
“It’s called Bogbeast Lake. It’s one of the Ridge’s most scenic spots. The mermen-shifters and selkies claim the lake as theirs.”
I turned to stare at her. “Mermen and selkies?”
“They’re real and not just stuff from legends.”
My mouth opened, then shut. “I thought those creatures were folklore. I mean, I’ve heard about mermaids, but I thought they were all female. And what the heck is a selkie?”
We descended onto a flat road and drove a few more minutes before reaching an area bursting with residents milling about.
“Mermen exist. We have a few that live in this town, but no mermaids,” Bonnie said. “Just like most shifter breeds, they’re going extinct. And far as selkies, they’re seal-shifters. While in the sea, their bottom halves have a seal’s tail, but their upper halves remain human.”
“Others are fascinating,” I exclaimed. “Just the existence of a town with supernatural beings is hard to believe.”
Bonnie laughed. “That’s the Ridge in a nutshell… fascinating and hard to believe.” She continued driving. “This is Main Square. It’s the center of activity. Shops and restaurants are here. Most of the townsfolk live inside the forest. There’s plenty of land, so we tend to give each other wide berth. Others are finicky about encroaching on another’s territory, so houses are spread out throughout the Ridge.”
There were no high-rise buildings or streetlights.
“I love the small-town feel,” I said while continuing to peer out the open window on my side of the vehicle.
“I do too. I’m fortunate to have the means to live anywhere in the world, and I have over the years—France, Italy, Thailand, and New York. But I always come back to the Ridge. I grew up here.”
The tree-lined street housed multiple shops, including Bessie’s Coffee Shop, a posh-looking boutique named Rebellious Rose, a brightly painted storefront with a hangingNyx’s Yoga Studiosign, an herbal apothecary with a hand-painted window that promisedHerbs, Oils, Teas, Tinctures, a whole block dedicated to a warehouse storefront named Sinner + Do Artisan Bakery & Smokehouse, and Panthera Onca Fine Art Gallery.
My heart sped up with excitement. “That’s your business.”
She nodded. “It is.”
We drove past a few more businesses, including a tattoo parlor, hardware store, diner, and several bars. My eyes widened when I caught sight of several naked men, yelling and shoving one another by an enormous stone fountain with water cascading over the edges of the shell into the basin. There were four massive carved wolf heads around the pedestal and four shells around the basin that spilled water, creating a spectacular display.
“What’s going on?” I asked, pointing to the ongoing scuffle.
She clucked her tongue. “It happens every day like clockwork. It’s the otters-versus-the-penguins battle. They’re fighting over who gets to swim in the fountain.”
“Why don’t they just swim in Bogbeast Lake?” I asked.
“The selkies and mermen already called dibs,” she explained. “It’s a long story.”
She kept driving, and we passed more bustling residents wandering in and out of the open shops. Some waved; others stopped in their tracks to gawk at me like I had two heads.
“I guess the word is out that I’m here?” I asked.
“Tongues have been wagging since last night,” she replied. “But I wouldn’t worry about it. Hybrids are welcomed here.”
But am I? A woman with a Hunter bloodline?
Not willing to ask that question, instead, I asked, “What’s going on over there?” I pointed toward a large grass clearing with tents, booths, and a large stage.
“Black Forest Ridge Festival starts on Saturday. It will have games, shows, cookouts, parties, and people selling various foods and items. A celebration of unity and peace among residents.”
I glanced over at her. “I love festivals. I haven’t been to one in a while.”
“I was hoping you’d stay.” She turned to stare at me briefly before returning her eyes to the road. “For the festival. Quinn and Imani have been planning it for a while.” Driving for a bit more, she said, “We’re here.” And she pulled up in front of an enormous building with anEmmett’s Auto Shopsign on the left and aBane’s Forgesign on the right. “Let’s go.” We hopped out and entered the large garage that looked like converted stables.
A tall tanned burly man with shoulder-length black hair greeted us. “Hey, Bonnie. I’ve been waiting for you.” He wiped his large hand with a black cloth before sticking it out to me for a shake. “I’m Emmett. Nice to meet you, Nova.”
