AND THE BAND PLAYED ON

Gill looked out over the back of the house, looking for any subtle difference.  Anything he could notice.  There wasn’t once speck that caught his eye.  Not even Vernon’s or Miss Ellie’s.  Even the local hawk shifter from two blocks over could locate the one thing Woody said would be there.  Damn, the work ranked up there with extraordinary and out of this world.  Well, given that supernatural powers and human created it, that last part rang true.

“Woody,” Gill began moving to his left, closer to the dragon shifter who had taken up residence with his band in the in-suite apartment in the subbasement of the mansion.  “You’re right.  It can’t be seen.”

Woody laughed.  Smoke rolled out his nose, clouding the area between Gill and he.  “Acoustic music doesn’t reverb walls and travel like higher frequency amps would.  Look even we know when to take things to a lower level.” He turned to Gill grinning at his own pun.

“I’m glad we’re able to accommodate your lair with your needs.  Even the rest of your band found room to settle in.” Gill counted the pile of broken packing crates littering the yard. He lost count as a flash of flames came closer than he liked.

“Easy, Ned,” Woody cautioned.  “Too close quarters to let the flame rage like that.”

“Sorry bloke,” a strong British accented voice said.  Ned stood close to six-foot-seven.  His closely cropped red hair, goatee, mustache, and piercings created an image of badass biker from the UK.  Behind steaks sizzled on the barbecue.  A chef’s hat sat at an angle on top of Ned’s head.  

“No harm,” Gill offered, glancing over his shoulder hoping he didn’t smell more smoke or a singed smell.  Living above a group of dragon shifters was going to be very different.  Then there were the papers Woody presented to the state agent in triplicate plus the signed letter from the supernatural council and the world president of preternatural relations.  It basically said the hills belonged to Woody deeded down through centuries of old English law and current US law.  Wasn’t a damn thing the state could do about it. No fracking could take place unless Woody or his descendants approved it. Given his groups’ polygamous views and fertile reproductive systems, the chance of a warm spot freezing over for ice skating and Beelzebub selling his rights off was more probable. 

 

“Do you think we’ve got a period of peace and quiet finally happening again?”  Gill reached for his son as Chloe handed him to him.  

“Peace and quiet?”  Woody laughed.  No smoke rolled out of him this time. Heat blasted off in spurts as his eyes glowed.  “For a while.  Someone is waiting out there to try to reclaim what they think is theirs.”

Gill swallowed hard.  Had looking over their shoulder as a town become a way of life?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HAPPY WEEKEND GANG!

Hope you like the new additions moving into town.  Sounds like digging in and drawing lines is happening.  What is going on at the state capital?  What integrations and plans are taking place there?

Middle of July already.  How is life and summer going for you?  Good, I hope.  The Spice Homestead is enjoying the warm weather.  We're getting together and sharing books, good times, and enjoying each other's company.  Remember to keep a good book or two handy to share with your loves and spice.  I know I am!

Until Next Week,

Solara