Page 3 of Slaying With Sylphs (Haven Ever After #6)

CHAPTER THREE

DIRK

I walk up Main Street in the tiny monster haven of Ever, Massachusetts, admiring the red and white awnings over every shop. Flower pots dangle from the street lights, overflowing with blooms in every possible shade. Monsters stroll in pairs along both sidewalks, enjoying the perfect weather.

The idyllic small town has everything a monster could want: movie theater, historical society, candy store, ice cream shop, coffee shop, fine dining, general store. The list goes on, and that’s just the downtown area.

‘Tis a beautiful day. I could easily have gone to Shifter Hollow on the other side of town and spent time with the wolves or centaurs, perhaps visited the potions shop to sneak a peek at a certain someone. Or maybe taken a trip to the shifter pack therapist, Connall, to chat something through.

Of all the havens I’ve visited in my role as a hunter for Hearth Headquarters, this is my favorite. Not just because it can get a little wild here—thrall attacks and warlock wars and such—but because I met Louanna here.

“Hey, Dirk!”

I glance to my right to see a darling teal-haired pixie standing outside the candy shop, its red and white awning floating on a soft breeze.

Stopping to lean against the doorframe, I smile. “Hello to you, Miriam. How’s the candy-making business going?”

She grimaces. “Iggy’s in the back with Alo working on a new recipe for red-hot lollipops. Needless to say, there’s a lot of burnt candy in the kitchen, but Iggy absolutely insists?—”

Just then, the tiny gargoyle in question zooms past her, barreling out of the sweets shop door and circling around my head.

“Aye, little man, got the zoomies, do yeh?” I laugh as Iggy cackles and flips onto his back, still zipping around me.

Moments later, a muscular gargoyle ducks through the door and wraps a three-fingered purple hand around Miriam’s waist. “On your way to see Lou, Dirk?”

It’s no secret I stand outside Lou’s window at night and stare at her. I’m relatively certain she knows I do it. Alo and Iggy caught me once, though, which I suspect is why the big protector gargoyle mentioned it just now.

“It’s not creepy if we’re mates,” I say.

Alo gives me a look. “If Lou tells you to stop, you’re gonna stop though.” His tone brooks no argument, but I don’t bother to remind him that I’m the most powerful air elemental in recorded history. I could blast him to bits with that power if I chose to.

It’s just that I prefer being charming. And funny.

“Noted, giant strong male,” I joke.

“He’s making fun of you, Dad!” Iggy shouts, stopping between us, his tiny wings flapping slowly.

“Nope.” I poke him in the chubby belly. Why is he shirtless? “Why are you such a tattletale, anyhow?”

Iggy slaps my hand away with his long tail, the spade-shaped end thwapping against my arm. Just for funsies, I call the jagged rays of lightning that cover my blue skin, giving him a tiny zap. He screeches and zooms up to Alo’s shoulder, alighting there with a vicious wee look.

“That hurt, Dirk!” he shouts, pointing a finger at me in accusation.

Alo glances at his young son. “Ig, what have we said about touching others without asking?”

Miriam stifles a laugh behind a fake cough as Iggy rolls his eyes.

“You said don’t do it, especially Dirk, because his lightning can hurt.”

“Right.” Alo draws the word out long. “Dirk’s lightning is?—”

“A weapon,” Iggy grinds out. “I forgot.” His gaze goes thoughtful. “If your lightning is a weapon, how are you ever gonna hug Lou? Won’t you zap her to bits?”

My nostrils flare as my grin grows broad and devious. Alo gives me a warning look, and Miriam leans against the doorframe as the laughter finally escapes.

“Zapping her to bits is exactly what I’m gonna do, Iggy,” I say, “the moment she allows it.”

“You better not!” he screeches, balling his tiny fists as his tail snaps wildly in the air. “‘Cause I’ll protect her with my life! If you so much as?—”

“Easy, killer.” I give him a serious look. “I dinnae wanna hurt Louanna. I was just joking.” There’s no way I can explain to this tiny gent what I want to do to her.

“See that you don’t,” he says viciously, crossing his arms over his tiny, puffed-up chest. When he and Alo give me matching irritated looks, I can’t hold back a laugh. Grumps, the both o’ them.

Two minutes later, I’ve extricated myself from them after reassuring Iggy a half dozen times that I have no intention of killing my Louanna. Seems six-year-olds struggle with jokes and innuendo. I suppose I should get used to that, living in Ever full-time.

Well, technically, I’m only using my vacation days for the next few weeks. Hearth HQ will call me back to my headquarters-based office soon, but that’s a problem for another day.

I walk up Sycamore Street, absorbing the beauty of the Community Garden to my left, and the gingerbread pink and white Annabelle Inn to my right. The Inn waves white shutters at me as I walk up the pathway toward her front entryway.

“Hello, darling Annabelle,” I say, leaving the path to walk around the back of the Inn.

Her siding ripples playfully, so I stroke my fingers down the wooden planks. The Annabelle has a sense of humor, I’ve come to realize. Once, when I was staring at my Louanna, the Inn whacked me in the arse with a plank of wood. The Annabelle might have a crush, come to think of it.

“Don’t be jealous, darling,” I whisper. “Yer always in my heart, Annabelle.”

She preens mightily, all the planked siding rippling and waving as if delighted.

“Knew yeh had a crush,” I say on a snicker, tickling the section of wall closest to me as I round the corner.

Behind the Annabelle is a gorgeous rose garden with a giant pedestal in the middle. Technically, it’s behind both the Annabelle and Alo’s cottage next door. The roses are in full bloom as always, helped along by magic, I assume. They’ve been blooming since I arrived in Ever months ago.

The sun has dipped low behind the trees, casting the garden and Inn in pale, muted light. It’s my favorite time of day, the time when wind plays through the air, diving and dancing like it’s calling to me. I glance up at the giant bay window to the room my Louanna is currently staying in.

Reaching to the crisscrossed leather straps over my bare chest, I slap a giant sapphire gem in the middle. Immediately, my physical body dissipates, and I become the wind. Like this, it’s nigh impossible for anyone to see me, a fact that’s made me incredibly popular with my boss, Evenia. Being invisible does lend itself to hunting rogue monsters—criminals and misfits and the like.

Rising through the chilling air, I pause outside the bay window, looking inside.

Louanna stands in front of a tall mirror, unbraiding her incredible strawberry blonde hair. It’s so long, it reaches her arse. Gods, I would give my right arm to fist that hair around my hand and use it for leverage to do naughty, naughty things.

I can’t groan or speak in wind form, but, gods, I can fantasize with the best of ‘em.

Louanna’s pale, freckled fingers move deftly through her hair. I get lost, watching the long strands tangle and be untangled by her. When she’s done, her hair hangs in a glorious sheet at her back while I resist the urge to crawl through the window and muss it.

That done, she turns to the ornate wooden desk in her room, seating herself gracefully as she tucks her hair over her opposite shoulder. She’s wearing a long nightgown with ruffles on the edges and shoulder straps. I’ve never seen anything more womanly than this fookin’ nightgown she wears.

She opens a box on the desk and brings out a single sheet of blank paper. Like always, there’s a pen next to the box. She reaches for it and begins writing. If this is like other nights, she’ll write for hours.

And this is where I wish I had a shifter’s hearing, because Louanna mutters while she writes, but I cannae hear her through the thick window. I’d consider using my wind to open it, but then she’d certainly know I was here, and I adore the thought of spying on her. Because, one day, she’s gonna pace to the window, say, “Hello, Dirk,” and invite me in.

My mate.

Even though she hasn’t acknowledged it yet.

I’m playing the long game with Lou. She arrived at a time when her triplet nieces needed her. Thralls, soul-sucking monsters, chased her into town, scratching and biting her. Instead of turning into one, she remained human.

Maybe the first being ever to do that. So far, nobody’s been able to explain it.

And then she was intimately involved in the accidental death of one of the shifters from the other side of Ever.

Louanna’s had a hellsuva time since she arrived.

So, the long game it is.

Which is fine for me, tae be honest. I’m a long game sort of male. I love a good tease. Because when Louanna finally unleashes with me, we’ll be hot enough to burn alive.

I float quietly, watching my mate scribble a letter to…someone. I haven’t invaded her privacy far enough to read the letters. But I know she’ll follow the same pattern as every other night. She’ll write it, reread it, maybe have a good cry, and then she’ll tuck the letter into the box and never take it out again.

I’ve a theory about the letters. Her dead sister Caroline was the Hector triplets’ mother. She’d have been far older than Lou, because Lou is only a few years older than the triplets. But I surmise she and her sister were close, and it’s my theory that Caroline is the recipient of those letters, and it’s some sort of human trauma process to write to a woman who can never read them.

Louanna. I ache to enter the room and pull her into my arms, to ask her to let me shoulder some of her burden. But she has a dozen layers of walls built around her heart, and so far, her nieces seem to be the ones who are allowed into the inner circle. I reckon I’ve got about eight layers of walls left before she lets me fully into where all that pain and hurt thrives.

Lou’s door swings open, slapping the wall with a bang. The Annabelle Inn lets out an angry groan as Iggy zips through the door with a box under each arm.

Scratch my earlier thought. Iggy barged directly through Lou’s walls right to the center of her soul, even though she grumbles about how impossibly direct and meddlesome he is.

“Ignatius,” she says with a warning, pointing to the door as it swings closed. “That was too hard. What if you put a hole in Annabelle’s wallpaper?”

Iggy shrugs and flies to the bed, settling himself in the middle. “I could fix it if I put a hole in it. Dad says I should be more careful too, but I was excited to bring you snacks.”

My woman rises from her seat and joins Iggy on the bed, lying flat on her stomach as she looks at the boxes. Movement at the door draws my eye. A black hellhound lumbers in, pregnant belly swaying as her tongue lolls from her mouth. Rivers of fire run under her inky fur, her red eyes glowing like twin embers. I watch in amazement as my former hunting partner pads across the room to the foot of Louanna’s bed and drops to the carpet with a pained-sounding huff.

Minnie girl.

Hard to believe she hunted criminals with me for years and abandoned me the moment she met Iggy. But she and I never had that permanent bond that hellhounds sometimes form. She has that with Ignatius. When he grows up and goes off to the protector academy, she’ll go with him. He’ll become a powerful guardian one day with a hellhound by his side. In the meantime, she’s a very pregnant, uncomfortable-sounding presence at the foot of the bed.

I float outside the window, invisible to the room’s occupants. For twenty solid minutes, Iggy talks Louanna through the snack boxes, shoving bits and pieces of baked goods in her mouth when she opens it for him. They have such a pure friendship, and I’m appreciative of the tiny protector’s care for her.

O’ course, it’s built into his DNA to protect and serve the monster community. Nearly all haven protector teams are led by, and primarily composed of, gargoyles.

I watch for a while as they laugh and talk, but when Louanna slips off the bed and heads for the window, I resist the urge to morph back into monster form. She says something over her shoulder to Iggy as she reaches for the window and pushes it up. The momentary vacuum of the window opening pulls me into the room—or maybe I just tell myself that—as I swirl in wind form around the foot of the bed with Minnie and the dust bunnies.

Minnie raises her head and whines at me, flame-red eyes wide. Her black furry tail thumps a slow, happy rhythm against thick carpet. When I rustle over her fur, she harrumphs and lies flat once more.

My Minnie girl.

She dropped me in a moment for Iggy, but it’s just as well. My focus is elsewhere these days.

Floating across the room, I settle into an empty chair in front of the fireplace. Gods, I’d love to half-morph and be seated here as my wind form but in the shape of my human form. I bet Louanna’d get a kick outta that.

As it is, I don’t want to shock the group. So I stay invisible and watch as Iggy goes sugar crazy and passes out in Lou’s arms. I watch as she strokes his back and wings and dark hair. Eventually, she calls Alo to come get his son. A minute later, the gargoyle himself shows up in the open window and slips in, carefully taking Iggy from Louanna’s arms.

“I know he acts like he’s taking care of you, Lou,” Alo says gently, “but hanging with you is his favorite time of day. Thank you for that.”

My love smiles at the big gargoyle. “You and Miriam are raising an amazing young man. He’s so refreshing, honestly. I should be thanking you.”

Alo smiles as he rubs his son’s back. He gives Lou a final look before glancing in my direction with a frown, then slipping gracefully out of the window and into the sky.

And then it’s just us, because Minnie pads away the moment Iggy and Alo are gone.

Louanna returns to the bed and flops in, letting out a sigh that sounds bone-deep. She lifts her wrist as if she’ll call someone, but seems to think better of it.

Call me, I silently urge. Call me, Louanna, and I’ll rush to your side.

Disappointment rises when her wrist falls to the pillow. She curls onto her side, shoving a pillow between her knees and clutching another to her chest. Like every night I spend watching over her, I float above, kissing her cheeks and hair with my currents. Within minutes, she’s asleep.

And still I don’t leave.

I will never, ever leave.