Page 23 of Live Love Lasso

Fucking tease. Godsdamn Furyon and whatever that was.

Drinks in hand, Oz and I head out of the coffee shop and find a bench to sit on. For fifteen minutes, we sit there, and he dishes about all the monsters that pass us by. That gargoyle couple is experimenting with a minotaur third. There goes Sheriff Rygold, awake and looking as unfriendly as ever. The big minotaur who just passed by? He’s a skyball whiz even though he’s older. And the gorgeous gargoyle that swoops down into the street? That’s Hadrian Alkazar, the famous skyball player who just quit the protector academy in his senior year to play for Pine Gulch’s team, the Punishers.

“Damn, he’s hot.” I stare as monsters flock into the street, surrounding the big purple gargoyle who seems happy to speak with everyone.

“He really, really is,” Oz says wistfully. “Horribly straight, I’ve heard. You don’t know how many times I’ve wished he had a gay older brother or something.”

I giggle as we watch the gargoyle sign slips of paper other monsters shove at him.

Oz slaps my knee, then winces when I gasp at him slapping the bandaged one.

“Oooo, sorry, girl.” He pats me lovingly, noticing the Band-Aid. “I’m off to Whiskey Biz for a double, but you should definitely head to the flea market and do the whole gourd and pumpkin tour. It’s an absolute must-see, and it’s always best on the weekend. Peak PG cuteness.”

I promise I will, but as he leaves me and heads toward the restaurant, I wish he’d come back. Main Street is bustling with monsters. They talk in groups and wave as they pass each other by. It seems so friendly, but damn if I haven’t seen the dark side of this place in a very short time.

Sighing, I grab my dusty welcome book and shove it under my arm. According to the map, behind Main Street’s long row of businesses is a sort of hidden garden area. Crossing the street, I walk through the alleyway between the Welcome Inn and the bakery.

My thoughts scatter at the absolute wonderland at the end of the alleyway. Standing in place, I stare around in awe at the vision in front of me. If downtown is shaped in a huge half oval, the entire center of it is a flea market on the righthand side and an enormous garden on the left. Glimmer and the auction house appear to share a second-story back porch at the far left side, although I haven’t seen that from inside Glimmer yet. It’s full of monsters right now, and music drifts faintly over the garden toward me.

Groups of monsters move down long rows of ten-by-ten tents filled with all sorts of wares. My mouth drops open at seeing a potions vendor hawking bottles in a variety of unique shapes. I drool at the idea of storing potions in the beautiful multi-colored jars.

The very next booth over is filled to the brim with giant pumpkin-shaped bread loaves and French bread shaped like a unicorn horn. The following space hosts a variety of small gnome-sized houses. An older male minotaur sits on his heels, talking to a gnome couple about the nearest mushroom home.

I clasp both hands to my chest at how absolutely adorable it is. And shopping! Oh my gods, shopping. I could cry with delight. Where has this been all my life?!

“Cute, ain’t it?”

I whirl in place to find Furyon standing next to me, hands slung casually through his front belt loops. Today he’s wearing a button-up jean shirt with pearl snaps. A big silver belt buckle flashes in the sunlight, nearly blinding me. Damn, it’s ostentatious. And he said my boots weren’t practical?!

My brain helpfully supplies a memory of the way he ripped his shirt open last night so I could touch him. I bite the inside of my mouth to avoid baring my fangs at him.

I nod. “Very cute. I had no idea this was here.”

Furyon takes the Welcome Book from beneath my arm and flips it open to the scavenger hunt page. “Whaddya say I help you check a few of these off your list?” He reaches into his back pocket and withdraws a fuchsia Sharpie. “Brought you your own marker. Your fave color too. My gift to you for obeying orders so beautifully last night.”

Snark sits on the tip of my tongue, but I rein it in. This male is a damn tease, and it’s unfair that he thinks I’m a criminal.

“That was thoughtful, thank you.” That’s what I say instead of what I’m thinking.

He puts the marker in my hand and thumps the open book with his other. “I’m gonna walk you around to my favorite flea market stalls, and then I’ll give you the garden tour. You can go ahead‘n mark those spots off your scavenger hunt.” He glances at the list. “Oh, also, there are a few pages where you can journal your thoughts on meeting the locals. I’m thinkin’ after last night, you can mark that off too.”

The shit-eating grin he flashes my way would have my pussy wet if I wasn’t so surprised he deigned to mention last night twice.

I shake my head. “Oh, I don’t know that we got acquainted very well at all.” I bat my lashes. “Afraid as you were of me, on account of my criminal leanings.”

His smile falls, and he slaps the book closed, sticking it under his arm. Pale eyes drop to my mouth and then flick back up. “You’re right that I was a blood giver for a time with a vampire coven in Seattle, outside the haven system. It was a darker time in my life when I was seeking my father’s approval, knowing I’d never get it. So I rebelled and lived in the human world with that coven for about five years. I let myself be taken advantage of there, Lemon. I let a vampire claim me and spent a lotta time and money paying to break that bond. I ain’t proud of it, but I learned from it. And it’s why I’m so very specific now about consent.”

I throw a hand over my mouth. “Furyon, I’m…sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest—I just meant⁠—”

He presses the pad of his thumb to my mouth and runs it along my lips. “I know what you meant, but I wanted to be clear. Last night I stopped us because I was losing control, and I didn’t want that between us.” He winks. “You had me hot, city girl.”

I clear my throat, rolling my shoulders as the weight of his compliment settles good and hard in my chest. Beneath that runs a river of sorrow. I’ve heard vampire covens outside the haven system live a more lawless existence. Sounds like that might be true to a degree, at least in Furyon’s experience.

“It wasn’t all bad,” he says, eyes falling to the book again. “Shall we?” He holds his elbow out.

Jealousy for whoever got to spend time in his bed with their fangs in his neck rushes through me. His neck is so very deliciously biteable.

I slide my hand through his arm, resting my fingers on the warm skin of his forearm. Beneath my fingertips, silver horses run along his skin. They’re beautiful, and it makes me think of what happened last night. I look up into his shocking blue eyes.