Page 1 of Lessons with the Mothman (Monster Smash Agency)

CHAPTER 1

Elias

"Try this."

"Needs more yuzu," Rafe replied with no more than a glance at the cup I held in front of his nose.

"I said ' try ' it," I parsed out.

Astraeya cut in, perched on the high stool, looking like a delicate pink and purple doll someone had placed incongruously in the chaos of Rafe's rental kitchen, "What about a weekend away with Gabriella? She's attending her ex's wedding in Cabo and wants to convince them she's moved on."

My antennae twitched, and I turned in the succubus's direction.

"I don't have to try it. I saw you balancing out the sour with sweet, and I'm telling you I don't want it even. It needs to find balance with the food, not without it," Rafe answered me, as stubbornly hard-headed as his gargoyle stone form.

"It needs balance with both," I said, but Astraeya's question was busy rolling through my head.

A fake date? Feigning emotions and acting on the premise of being already coupled had potential for creating a romantic entanglement between myself and a client, certainly. My brow furrowed as I considered this. Gabriella was a lovely woman with a bit of sylph mixed into her human family line. At our appointment through the Agency months ago, she had levitated at her climax, floating right off my lap in her throes of pleasure. She'd been pleasant company, but I hadn't experienced any hints of real attachment. According to my research, an attachment was something that grew exponentially with time and proximity, but there was usually an inkling to start from one or both parties. I wasn't sure what that inkling ought to feel like, but I imagined I would know when it occurred.

"I'm looking for something more…long term," I told Astraeya.

Specifically, I was looking for love—first love, as it turned out, in spite of my many decades of life. Centuries, perhaps, but who was counting? Love was rare for any fae, and a moth fae like myself was rare amongst the general populace. When I was very young and inclined to fanciful thinking, I'd imagined love would find me when the time was right. With time, I'd grown more skeptical of the concept, eventually losing interest in it entirely. There were more compelling pursuits, and sex was thrilling regardless of any emotional entanglement.

Lately, however, the evidence in favor of a loving relationship had begun piling up around me. I'd found myself distracted and surprisingly…wistful. If love wouldn't find me, I would go in search of it directly.

Rafe choked softly at my claim, and I rustled my wings out to hide any expression he might be wearing from Astraeya's too keen stare. Not that my answer didn't make her skeptical in her own way, her precise eyebrows rising over her milky lavender face. But I had always been particular when it came to the clients I partnered with at the Monster Smash Agency. I was one of their few sex worker staff who was freelance, and the only one who had final word on who I partnered.

It paid—generously—to be exceptional at what you did.

"Oh, really? Because you managed to worm your way out of the last three long-term clients I booked for you," Astraeya parried.

I bristled. "I did not worm . If anything, I helped you pair them with even more fulfilling partners."

Astraeya puffed out an annoyed breath and snapped her file shut, shuffling it to the bottom of the stack. "Why don't you go through these yourself while I make us some tea?"

"Tea?" Rafe murmured distractedly, glancing around his kitchen. "Tea notes…Hannah likes pu-erh and caramel…" He trailed off, thinking of his werewolf mate, a softness smoothing over his previously anxious frown.

Love seemed to have that effect on people, I noted.

"With miso," I suggested to the gargoyle, who made a bright, excited sound in the back of his throat as he shot over to the refrigerator.

The pair of them left my side, setting to their own tasks, and I drifted over to the pile of bland manilla folders Astraeya had left behind on the steel counter.

"Isn't it a violation of company policy to let him rifle through those?" Rafe asked Astraeya, head clearing from some new recipe idea.

"Not strictly," Astraeya said, but her voice was a little tight. "Not if I'd have to go through the entire stack with him anyway."

"I signed a very thorough NDA," I said, shrugging a velvety, light wing at my back.

I flipped through a profile about a recently divorced human seeking to fulfill long buried fantasies and explore their personal identity. It would've been a client I'd taken a few years ago; the human fascination with discovery was always a source of entertainment for me. Out of the corner of my eye, Astraeya's foot tapped impatiently against the linoleum tile as the kettled purred with growing heat.

"How are the new recruits?" I asked her, opening another file.

"Fine."

Rafe's eyebrows rose as our gazes met over the littered kitchen counter.

"Well, we lost one, but the other two are doing all right...so far," Astraeya said, fiddling with mugs and tea bags.

"Lost one?" Rafe repeated.

I'd already heard about the event, but I waited for Astraeya to answer, watching the brief parade of emotions that flashed over her features—frustration furrowing her brow, a stubborn moue of her lips, the proud hike of her chin, and finally a wince and slump of her shoulders.

"Marguerite mated," she muttered.

Rafe tilted his head in question and looked to me.

"I didn't know vampires could mate," I said, feigning innocence as I closed another file, adding it to the discarded stack.

Astraeya rolled her eyes. "Vampires don't, but the selkie I paired Marguerite with did."

Rafe snorted. "Monster Smash? More like Monster Match, am I right?"

I pointedly opened another file and left Rafe to suffer under Astraeya's piercing glare. He was lucky he was a gargoyle. A succubus's wrath could snatch years off the average lifespan.

A role-playing request, with somnophilia—standard fare.

"How many matings is that now?" I asked, trying to sound disinterested.

Astraeya sighed. "Five."

Rafe straightened. "Oh."

"My supervisor's starting to think I'm doing it on purpose."

"It's not strictly bad, what you're doing," Rafe said. "I mean, people are happy."

"The mated couples are happy. The abandoned clients, not so much. The cases we can't take because we're understaffed aren't happy. The company losing clients and staff isn't happy," Astraeya said, her voice rising with the tone of the boiling kettle. She huffed a breath as it clicked off and stared balefully at the steam rising out of the slender spout. "But I can't exactly regret accidentally pairing mates together, no."

Do it for me , I thought. Which was ridiculous. Fae didn't mate. But in spite of the absence of the experience thus far in my long life, I had hopes of finding the strange phenomenon of pointed affection that seemed to exist between my friends and their partners. Love, as they put it. A contrary emotion that seemed to change its definition with every individual recounting. A puzzle, one I was eager to solve.

"I understand the complications it causes, but it just sounds to me like you're more than usually good at your job," Rafe said, passing Astraeya a spoonful of caramel.

She hummed as she sucked on the spoon, and Rafe poured the hot water into mugs.

"I have tried to cool it a bit," Astraeya admitted. "But then Breugger's dad died and they had to go to the funeral, and then Gretchen ended up taking Hank as her client anyway, and you know how fast selkie mating instincts are. They didn't even bother with the appointment—just went directly back to Hank's apartment and didn't let any of us know what happened for weeks."

"Gretchen's having the wedding reception at Nightlight," I murmured.

"I didn't get invited?" Astraeya squawked.

"Strictly speaking, you didn't set them up, did you? Why does it seem as though we only get the same requests over and over again?"

"Because that's what Monster Smash Agency is, Elias. Fulfilling a biological need, or a psychological one, or both. We don't cater to puzzles . We cater to sex. Which, generally speaking, isn't all that curious when you really get down to it." Astraeya's fists were clenched at her sides and she shook her ire out like a wet dog, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Not exactly what you expect to hear from a succubus, especially one with a penchant for matchmaking," Rafe mused.

"Sex is sustenance for a succubus. That tends to shake off some of the mystique," Astraeya said with a wave of her hand.

"Food is sustenance to me, but that doesn't mean it isn't also art," Rafe parried.

I tossed another file onto the increasing stack, ready to open the next and be equally unimpressed by its contents, until a flash of neon yellow caught my eye. A small sticky note was dislodged from the back of the folder I'd just discarded, flipped aside by my careless handling and landing face down on the steel countertop. I lifted it, ready to paste it back on the folder it had fallen loose from, eyes skimming the words once without intention, and then again.

Victoria Dempsey. Independent Masters study for NWU. Monster sexuality, looking for interview subjects. Possible demonstrations?

"What's this?" I asked, holding the note up.

Astraeya and Rafe both turned, and Astraeya frowned, her stare blank.

"It's in your writing," I pressed.

She stepped forward, and I fought the impulse to pull the note out of her reach, keep it for myself.

"Oh shit," Astraeya murmured. "I forgot about that. Where did you find it?"

"It was stuck to a file. What is it?"

"My office has been a mess with all the reorganization lately," Astraeya said.

What is it? I wanted to shout, wings rustling impatiently at my back, antennae twitching.

"It was an email to the agency that I found in the unassigned stack. A woman looking for collaboration from companies like ours to help her research monster sexuality and interspecies relationships. I just thought it was…" Astraeya trailed off, staring at me. "Oh!"

"You thought it was interesting ," I said, looming over the petite succubus slightly. "And you didn't mention it to me?"

Across the room and from under his breath, Rafe sang an ominous, "Dun, dun, duuuun." Rafe could stir soup and shit at the same time, apparently.

Astraeya rose—slightly, she was still very short—to Rafe's bait, and I resisted the urge to sigh. A succubus was no slouch, and I hadn't been trying to pick a fight. The fine and sensitive hairs on my body all rose to attention as an oppressive throb of energy pulsed in front of me.

"Contrary to what you seem to believe, Elias, I don't actually report to you. I occasionally enjoy working with you, and you have always served the agency's clients to extreme satisfaction, which is why we are so willing to cooperate with your whims, but I don't have to share every one of my notes or files or thoughts with you," Astraeya said, prim and powerful all at once.

"Of course not," I said, surrendering the note to her slim fingers, in spite of the urge to tuck it away in my pocket. There wasn't any useful information on it anyway, aside from the woman's name—Victoria Dempsey, old-fashioned and teasingly sweet. "Is the Agency interested in assisting her?"

Astraeya relaxed and shrugged. "She's not really asking to be a client, although she could certainly book an appointment to watch, but pairing the right workers together to create something authentic would be?—"

"Is there anything stopping you from referring her to a connection through the agency?" I asked.

Astraeya blinked and then stilled, studying me. I wasn't entirely sure of the entire breadth and limitation of Astraeya's ability as a succubus. I wasn't aroused exactly at the moment, but I was excited, intrigued, and perhaps she was able to sense those emotions as well.

"Honestly? Probably," she said, frowning. I opened my mouth to object, and she raised a hand to pause me. "In most cases, referring an employee of the agency for outside work would be a breach of contract, even if Miss Dempsey has no intention of utilizing them in the same manner. However, you're a freelancer."

"I am."

"And a highly connected one. With a studious nature," Rafe chimed in from the background.

I dipped my head in acknowledgement, but kept my gaze on Astraeya. She wasn't convinced yet.

"I don't want to get you in trouble with the Agency," I said, which was true. It didn't mean I wouldn't act even without her assistance, or that I would feel especially bad if Astraeya did suffer consequences, but it wasn't my goal to create a problem for her.

"It's not that," she said softly, eyes narrowing. "You've been…flighty lately."

"Is that a pun?" I asked, my wings flaring briefly at my back.

She rolled her eyes. "You reject most clients, take a few and then change your mind about them. I just want to make sure you'll take this woman and what she needs for her work seriously."

Taking someone seriously, offering them what they needed, was exactly what I was looking for.

"I will," I said. "This interests me."

"Even if all she wants is an interview?"

I can offer so much more than an interview , I thought, recalling the note perfectly. Testimonials. Demonstrations. She needed someone with a connection to the world of monsters, one who could cast a wide web for information and willing participants.

"I certainly have plenty to offer in an interview, more than what might be conveyed in a single session," I said.

Apparently this didn't reassure Astraeya, because her eyes narrowed further. "I don't understand why this is the one."

The one . A commonly used phrase in regards to loving partnerships. Were the words a coincidental slip of the tongue? Probably. And yet…

"It's different," I said. Which was also what Rafe and our other friend Khell said about their own accidentally arranged matings with clients Astraeya had paired them with. That Hannah and Sunny were just…different. "You know I like the cerebral cases. But we should involve the Agency. I may be a freelancer, but if she wants demonstrations, hiring through the company would be an easy resource."

"We'll risk pricing her out, but it would curb any complaint the Agency might have about me referring you," Astraeya said, relaxing at last and nodding.

"I'll waive my fee," I said, shrugging, trying not to make my eagerness too obvious. I was likely failing, or Rafe remembered too well the conversation I'd had with him almost a year ago, because he was staring at me fiercely.

I'd like to try it…falling in love.

I'd expected it to be easy—pick a client, get to know them, enjoy a frenzy of sex, discover…emotions of some sort. If Rafe and Khell could manage it, surely I could. But there was a missing ingredient, and no matter how I quizzed my friends, they offered no explanation. Or at least not ones that offered tangible solutions.

"You haven't even met her yet," Rafe said, a thread of caution in the words.

Which was true. My expectations were premature. Perhaps that was my problem? Khell and Rafe hadn't been seeking love when they met their mates. It had struck them unexpectedly. I frowned over this potential muddle. Perhaps there was a cupid somewhere in Chicago I could discuss the intricacies of the process with.

"I'll pitch your offer to the Agency, and we'll arrange a meeting," Astraeya said. She pointed a perfectly manicured acid yellow nail in my face and narrowed her eyes. " Don't do anything until I tell you."

I raised my hands in innocence. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"So, how many hours did you spend last night scouring your potential new client's social media?" Rafe asked the next day, settling down on a bar stool across from where I was counting inventory.

I scowled at him. I hated doing inventory. Generally, I had my vampire night manager do the task after closing. Today, I was in the mood to be annoyed and disagreeable.

"None," I said, which was technically the truth.

"Restrained of you. I would've peeked. What was her name again?" Rafe asked.

"Shouldn't you be cooking?" I volleyed back.

"Chefs have to eat too," Rafe answered. His kitchen wasn't far away from Nightlight, my bar, and it wasn't the first time he'd come to visit when he needed a break or someone to brainstorm flavors with.

"Isn't the point of being a chef to cook food? You can make your own lunch," I muttered.

"No one likes to cook their own food. And Hannah's on her way to meet me here," Rafe said.

I straightened at that. Rafe's mate was fascinating. A couple years into her life as a werewolf, the daughter of rock royalty, Hannah was decidedly… cool . She was quiet, watchful, and stylish. She and Rafe seemed startlingly different from one another, until suddenly, they stood shoulder to shoulder, magnetically attracted to one another and existing in a kind of harmony that made sense for two people whose work revolved around flavors and music. Compared to our other mated pair of friends, Sunny and Khell, Rafe and Hannah's romance was subtle, their touches casual and secretive, but the looks they gave one another were no less potently loaded with private meaning.

Also, Hannah happened to be one of the only people I couldn't get a read on when it came to drinks. Every time I made her something unique, her thanks was polite and her response mild. What was her flavor , damnit? If Rafe knew, he had too much fun keeping it from me.

"Victoria…Dennis? Davis?" Rafe continued to puzzle. "I bet I could ask Astraeya."

Astraeya would tell him to mind his own business, but— "Dempsey. But don't bother. There's no sign of her anywhere online."

"Picsapp account is private?"

"As far as I can tell, it doesn't even exist."

Rafe's eyebrows rose, and his smile crooked at the corner. "Ahh, I see. That's gotta be…" Frustrating, annoying, surprising , I thought. "…Exciting for you," Rafe finished.

"Exciting?" I repeated, antennae twitching at the suggestion.

Rafe nodded, grinning now. "You love a mystery. And you think social media is asinine. Now, when you want it to work for you, it can't."

"It doesn't matter. Astraeya got approval from the Agency. She's setting up a meeting." I would meet Victoria Dempsey soon enough. I turned away from Rafe, studying the array of bottles on my shelves. "Will Hannah want a mocktail or cocktail?"

"Hannah will want to order a drink," Rafe said. "She's funny like that, wanting to make choices for herself."

I huffed. A mocktail to start. Something smoky this time, subtle. I would solve the mystery sooner or later.