I’d thought the place was stunning in the summer, with all the perfect emerald leaves and every flower looking like a tiny jewel. But I had to admit, the place was just as stunning in the fall.

  The trees and plants in the nursery were a riot of gold, orange and scarlet leaves, with fat pumpkins everywhere I turned around. There were squash of all shapes, sizes and colors, and some kind of heirloom corn that looked like it was made of shining purple glass beads. There were jack-o’-lanterns everywhere, though they never seemed to get soft or show any signs of rot. It was like they’d grown out of the ground already carved, just waiting for someone to pop a candle into their grinning mouths.

  The apple orchard was filled with fruit just dripping from the branches, waiting for customers to pick, and the smell of fresh cider and cider doughnuts had my mouth watering before we’d even gotten out of the parking lot. The boys were bouncing around in the back seat, talking about all the things they wanted to see and do. It was nice to see them so excited, and to let them run off some of their energy.

  There was a corn maze set up, the stalks stretching towards the faultless blue sky. I saw signs for apple bobbing, hay rides, and they’d even brought in a petting zoo with ducks and baby goats, and a little black pot-bellied pig that Charlie was instantly in love with.

  It didn’t look like we were the only ones with the idea to go to the garden center that day either. The place was packed; kids running the grounds, people picking fruit or winding their way through the corn maze.

  I saw Poppy’s son, Finn, wandering around with a group of kids his age, heading for the corn maze. They seemed pretty thrilled about it. More power to them. I wouldn’t go in there if someone paid me. All blind corners and narrow passages? That sounded like nightmare fuel to me. Reminded me of one too many back-alley chases in Portland when you never knew what was coming around the next corner.

  Poppy herself I saw wondering around with a wicker basket, examining some of the produce the center had for sale. She also had some bundles of flowers and bright green herbs that must have come from the greenhouse, or else were the last of the season. I imagined she was looking to restock after selling out of all her sleep aids. I made a mental note to drop by the store and thank her for the potion she’d given the boys. I hadn’t really had a chance to use it while the curse was still active, but it sure worked like a charm on the regular. Even if the boys were cranky, or wound up, a few drops of the potion in the humidifier and it was peaceful dreams within fifteen minutes.

  Fifi and Roy were at the petting zoo, and Fifi was cradling a tiny baby chick in her hands, cooing over it. Roy reached out, and there was something adorable and hilarious about him using a single finger to gently pat the chick’s head. Fifi must have agreed, because she carefully put the little bird down before tugging Roy into a kiss.

  Not to be a voyeur, but I gave Fifi a bit of a once over—after that accident she’d had, I was still a bit worried about her. As far as I could tell though, she looked good. There was no sign of the shaky, ill woman who’d run her car off the road. Roy seemed more relaxed, too. He was smiling, at least. Of course, he usually was when Fifi was around.

  A horde of kids ran by them, werewolves by the look of them. I spotted a few of Lousia Rutledge’s brood before they vanished into the mouth of the corn maze. I just hoped I wasn’t going to get a call about having to go in and fish out any kids who’d gotten lost in there. Serve and protect, sure, but I had my limits.

  The festival was open later than I thought it would be. From what I’d heard around town, they didn’t close at sundown like most festivals did. Instead, there was a bonfire and the candles in the jack-o’-lanterns got lit, and it made for spooky fun, and a way more intense trip in the corn maze, if that was what people were into.

  Hard pass.

  But the fact that it was open at all after dark was nice. I was just ignoring the promise of the bonfire. I knew that Nymphs and Dryads would never, ever risk a fire, but I still had bad feelings after the last one at the Summer Solstice festival. Even thinking about that night, of that creature looking at me, through me, it brought a shiver up my spine like someone was running an ice cube over each vertebra.

  I glanced at Maverick. “Are Lorcan and Wanda thinking of stopping in?” With their strictly nocturnal hours, in a normal town, there wouldn’t be that many outdoor activities until the sun started setting earlier, but Haven Hollow wasn’t exactly a normal town.

  Maverick laughed, a surprised huff of air. “Well, when Lorcan heard about it, he said it might be fun. Like the celebrations around the harvest when he was young, if I recall correctly. He asked Wanda if she wanted to go, and she just gave him this affronted look, like he’d asked her to wear overalls or something. So, no, I doubt Wanda will be coming.”

  Fair enough. It didn’t really seem like Wanda’s thing. Of course, anything that didn’t require people to dress like they were strutting down a runway probably wasn’t Wanda’s thing.

  Sybil was looking around so much it was like her head was set on swivel. She’d taken the shape of a fifteen-year-old witch, so sometimes it was hard for me to remember exactly how young she actually was. Things that I took for granted were brand new to her, so it was a lot of fun introducing her to things she’d never seen before. I almost laughed when she caught sight of the sleepy old draft horse pulling the hay wagon, her eyes as big as dinner plates.

  She looked back at Maverick, her face shining. “Can we go on a hay ride?”

  The idea of sitting in the scratchy hay while being toured around by a smelly horse for twenty minutes sounded like something I could do without, but if the kids wanted to give it a try, I was game.

  Maverick pursed his lips, thinking. “How about this. What if you, Sean and Charlie went on the hay ride, while Taliyah and I get apple cider and some of those little cinnamon donuts for us all?”

  That was met with excited squealing from all three kids, even Sean, who was usually a bit more self-contained. They raced off, thrilled, and Maverick and I drifted towards the stall the garden center had set up to sell refreshments.

  “Good thinking,” I murmured to him. Anything that got me out of pulling hay out of my underwear for the next couple of hours was great with me.

  He chuckled. “I have my moments.”

  The place was huge, but we had a good view thanks to the layout of everything, so keeping an eye on the kids wasn’t a struggle as we ambled through the displays. It was a gorgeous day, cool enough for a jacket, but not chilly enough that most people needed gloves. It was almost peaceful, or as peaceful as anything involving happily shrieking children got. And somehow, with Maverick there beside me, the colors seemed crisper, the air a little sweeter. The fall just seemed a little more perfect whenever he was around.

  The fact that he looked amazing in his rust-colored sweater and dark brown jacket certainly wasn’t hurting.

  I wished we could have more days like this. No catastrophes, no magical destructions going on. Just easy, beautiful days with the family. Thinking of what he’d said to me that night in the woods reminded me of something as we made our way towards the food stall where Brooke the Nymph was ladling out cups of steaming hot cider right out of a big copper cauldron.

  “I wanted to say thank you.” A bit of pink crept up into my cheeks when Maverick turned to raise an eyebrow at me.

  “For?”

  “For showing up to help me. For making my problems your problems.”

  Maverick gave me a funny look. “Of course.”

  He wasn’t getting what I was saying, but then we were at the front of the line and Brooke was filling up a couple of carry trays so we could handle everyone’s drink at once. I couldn’t resist trying one of the little cinnamon donuts that came in a cardboard box, and just popped one into my mouth. They were crisp on the outside, soft in the middle, and glazed with spices that had my mouth watering as I chewed. I had to fight not to make an embarrassing sound, because they were that good.

  As I dusted my hands off, I realized Maverick was watching me, watching my mouth. My tongue darted out, checking for any glaze I might have missed. That just made his eyes go dark.

  Aware of the fact that we were in public and surrounded by kids, including our own kids, I started walking towards the spot where the hayride let off, trying to will the flush out of my cheeks as I went. The cool air felt good against my skin.

  Maverick caught up to me easily, thanks to his six feet something super tall of freaking legs, and he fell into step beside me without commenting.

  Feeling a little self-conscious, I cleared my throat and tried again. “What I meant was, thank you for sticking around that night. For fighting beside me and helping me the way you did. Without you… well, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have won.”

  It had also scared the heck out of me, especially when I couldn’t get Maverick’s power to stop. I’d thought he was going to burn himself out, hurt himself in his fury. Just remembering the look on his face had little prickles of gooseflesh running up and down my arms.

  Maverick stopped, giving me a look that was almost offended. “And what did you expect me to do? Run off and abandon you?”

  “No, of course not.” If my hands hadn’t been full of cider and little donuts, I would have raked a hand back through my hair. “But I’m not going to take it for granted, either. I appreciate it. So, well, thank you.”

  Maverick hummed, like he wasn’t sure if he was going to be upset or not yet, the prickly jerk. It was just such a Maverick thing to do that I almost shook my head. Then his face changed, and an almost sly expression crept across it. He stepped closer, leaning down so I could hear him over the shrill sounds of kids having fun in the background.

  “Well, if I’m playing at being your knight, does that mean I get a reward for my service?”

  The husky tone of his voice had my blush roaring back to full life, and I could only hope people thought it was from drinking my hot cider too fast. I swallowed hard, caught somewhere between being flustered, and laughing at his antics. “What kind of reward did you have in mind?”

  We’d been passing the edge of the huge corn maze when I asked, and almost quicker than I could react, Maverick swept me behind the looming stalks of corn and backed me up against the surprisingly sturdy barrier they formed. He crowded in close, grinning down at me as golden silk and green leaves rustled in the wind overhead.

  He bent down, but I was already surging up onto my toes to meet him halfway. The kiss was everything I’d ever wanted a kiss to be. The press of his lips, the hot slide of his tongue against mine, the sweet and tart taste of apples and cinnamon that made my head swim. I clutched Maverick’s shoulders, and lost myself in the feeling of him and truly, in feeling like I was home.

  Somehow, we managed not to drop our drinks or the donuts, which was more magical than faerie curses any day.

  ~~~~

  The End

  Return to Haven Hollow in:

  Cold Blood

  ~~~~~

  Return to the Table of Contents

  COLD BLOOD

  Haven Hollow #36

  (Blood Rose Academy)

  by

  J.R. RAIN

  &

  H.P. MALLORY

  Cold Blood

  Published by Rain Press

  Copyright © 2024 by J.R. Rain & H.P. Mallory

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cold Blood

  Chapter One

  “Slower,” Lorcan advised. “If you keep going that speed, you’re going to slide off the road and into the ditch.”

  I gritted my teeth around a sharp retort. I was already going a measly thirty-five miles an hour on this tiny, winding gravel road. If the Porsche went any slower, I was going to be practically parked, easy pickings for the things that roamed the woods.

  This portion of Texas had a reputation for some pretty nasty beasties roaming the countryside: a mixture of native species, monsters attempting to shelter in the southernmost Hollow, and some recent releases from the local prison. Rehabilitation was a nice thought, but there was only so much that could be done for supernatural baddies, especially the kinds of creatures that had reputations for eating people. It wasn’t a situation that made me in any way happy about puttering through. I could have probably gotten out of the car and walked faster, but that was a really stupid way to commit suicide.

  The gas meter was already near empty, and I didn’t want to stall out on a backroad with only Lorcan there to protect me. He was a great father figure, stupid strong, and an able fighter and all, but I didn’t think either of us could defeat a sasquatch with an attitude problem. Especially not with my magic on the fritz (truly, my witch magic was gone) and now I was having to learn a whole other way of taking care of myself. It drove me crazy to think about it, but there was a chance I’d even be a hindrance to Lorcan, because he’d feel he needed to protect me.

  That pill was bitter enough to swallow that my lip peeled off my teeth instinctively. I’d gone to Blood Rose Academy in order to enhance my already badass witch powers, and look what had happened to me. I’d been turned into a vampire. And that meant, where my magic was concerned, that I was back in the minor leagues. I figured I should have been grateful I had any magic left at all (thanks to my fae father), but whatever magic I did still possess was miniscule compared with my witch abilities. Not to mention that everyone around me was trying to shove me into some kind of giant hamster ball for my own safety. It was enough to make me want to gnaw on the stupid steering wheel.

  “I’m already moving like a snail,” I said, grateful when the words didn’t come out on a growl. I still sounded pissy, but I was at least approaching the civil end of human communication.

  I’d been growling, hissing, or otherwise vocalizing strangely for a few months now. Apparently, it was a hazard that came with the vampire transition for some people. It was like a kind of second puberty of the damned, but instead of voice cracking and conspicuous acne, I got stuck with aching fangs, a short temper, and an urge to growl at the problem. Apparently, the side effects would go away with time, but for now, I had to resist the urge to bite people’s heads off daily—in a very literal sense.

  I needed to get my basic murderous impulses under control before I headed back to Blood Rose in the fall. I was already the freak, one of only a handful of prior witches who’d decided to stay undead after being attacked and turned. Best not to be the embarrassing newbie freak who growled at her classmates when she was having a bad night. It was already going to be hard enough not to bite certain people.

  “Gravel is no respecter of persons, my dear,” Lorcan said with an easy smile. There was a knowing twinkle in his eye, as if he knew how hard I was struggling not to growl at him. Jerk. “Though I wouldn’t expect you to know that. You’ve been spoiled by asphalt all your life. Some of us grew up when dirt roads were not the exception to the rule.”

  “What are you talking about?” I growled.

  “Just that most roads in this country were dirt or gravel until the mid-1800s.”

  The half-snarl of frustration that had been forming on my face as the car slipped and slid on the road dropped at his offhand comment, almost turning into a smile instead. It was easy to forget that, despite his comfort with modern technology, Lorcan predated electricity by about a century. He’d been a mature vampire when the novel combustion engine was first released. And he’d been around to laugh at the men who fretted over women’s uteruses flying out of their bodies if they rode on a train. And my boyfriend and surrogate sire, Rook? He’d been around even longer.

  And I was just like them both now—undead. I was stuck forever at nineteen, doomed to watch the centuries pass me by while I remained static. What inventions would I see come into being? Would I someday be making offhand, almost nostalgic comments about the ‘old days’, when paved roads were the norm? Probably, unless someone stuck a stake through my heart…

  Lorcan’s smile slipped when he noticed my expression. His brow puckered, and he shifted in his seat. “What’s wrong, Astrid?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly. Though, I might as well have not said anything. My voice was tight with stress, so anyone with half a brain cell could tell something was bothering me. Clearly, I was going to have to develop a better poker face.

  Lorcan gave me a look the lie deserved. “You might as well tell me.”

  “I don’t know why Uncle Fox insisted that we come to Jinx Junction when, as far as I’ve heard, it’s a town full of witches.”

  And witches and vampires got along about as well as cats and dogs. But that wasn’t the only reason I was upset.

  “I am certain your uncle has his reasons,” Lorcan replied and gave me a little smile to say he wasn’t concerned about Uncle Fox’s reasons or the witches of Jinx Junction. “But I daresay, that is not the true reason behind the concern on your face?” I gave him a look and he gave it right back to me before continuing, “I’ll puzzle the truth out, eventually.”

  And he would too. He was infuriatingly perceptive most times. Reading people was a necessary skill when you’d lived as long as he had.

  I sighed. “It’s pointless telling you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s nothing you can fix.”