Page 6 of Live Love Lasso

“I could cry at hearing a nice word,” I admit, playing with the ruffled edge of the straps.

His expression softens, and he leans over the bar onto muscular forearms. “Let me guess…you’re new in town?”

I nod morosely. He stands and grabs a glass and a bottle of whiskey. He fills it with what’s definitely more than two fingers and grabs a square ice cube, dropping it into the glass. When he slides it across the bar, he winks.

“Name’s Ozifer, but you can call me Oz. I’m new here too. Well, kinda new. I moved from Rainbow about three months ago.”

“Ugh, why though?” I clap a hand over my mouth, eyes springing wide. “I mean, I’m so sorry. You’re right. This place is…delightful.”

He laughs and crosses both big arms, leaning against the bar. “It is, actually. I left to escape a terrible breakup, but this place has been a breath of fresh air, literally.” His eyes fall on my boot box. “You just come from the Bodice or what?”

I sigh and open the top of the box.

Oz’s eyes widen, and he gasps, grabbing one of the bedazzled boots and lifting it out. A black-coated minotaur at the bar wearing a dreadfully plain tan uniform jerks back, mouth dropping open as she stares at the boots. Discomfort makes me rub the back of my neck.

“Oh. My. Gods,” says Oz. “These are fabulous. I can’t wait to see you strutting around town in them.” He glances at me. “Assuming you’re in town for a while?”

“Lemon…Knox,” I say, deciding not to give my last name. Holding out a hand, I wait for him to shake it. I don’t know how famous my family may or may not be in this remote haven. But since there’s a well-known potions house, it stands to reason the Denton house might be well-known too. Given how that landed like a ton of bricks at Glimmer, I might just go by my middle name for a bit.

A whining sound at the door pulls my attention. Spinning on the stool, I find a tan dog picking her way across the saloon with her tail tucked between her legs. She glances from side to side, eyes wide as she licks her lips.

“Awww, honey bear, come here.” Oz kisses at the dog and walks around the bar. Dropping to a knee beside me, he holds out a hand.

The dog joins us and tucks herself between Oz’s big thighs, pressing her forehead to his chest.

“What on earth?” I glance at the door and back. “Dogs in bars? This is new.”

Oz smiles up at me as he pulls something from his pocket, offering it to the dog with one hand while he scratches her back with the other. “Pit-hells. Half pit bull, half hellhound. They run wild around the whole haven. Like hellhounds, they bond, but there are only a couple bonded pit-hells in the whole haven, so the rest go where they want, and everybody pretty much pitches in to take care of them.”

I wave at the tan dog as she tentatively takes bites of whatever he offered. “This one bonded to you, then?” Up close, it’s easier to see rivulets that look like red lava flowing under the dog’s tan coat. That could only come from the hellhound side.

“Naw,” he says softly, rubbing at the dog’s shoulder. “She’s just shy, and I keep bacon in my pocket for her. She got picked on as a puppy because she’s real submissive, and I’ve been working on her confidence.” He winks up at me. “Better be careful if they come near you, though. You get bonded with a hellhound, and you’ll have to stick around.”

I snort. “Absolutely not. I can’t take a hellhound back to Rainbow. What a pain in the ass it is to have animals in the city.” Hellhounds are known to be protective and prickly and it would literally put such a damper on my social life if one followed me everywhere.

He stands and lifts both arms by his sides. “You never know, Lemon. This is wild country, and sometimes it gets ahold of ya, diggin’ under your skin and refusing to let you go. So, welcome to Pine Gulch, where the land kisses the sky.”

Furyon

The blue-banded intra-haven watch on my wrist pings. Echo’s name hovers over the band, and I sigh. Technically, I’m off duty right now, and we were up all night dealing with the wild horses headed too far north toward ophiotaurii territory. I don’t like having to go up there to check on them and encroach on Sidewinders land. The monster bikers are prickly on the best of days and downright assholes on the worst.

I direct the watch to answer Echo.

“Hey, Boss, ain’t you supposed to deliver a welcome book to that new vampire sometime today? The one who’s got that job up at Glimmer?”

I rub a hand over my face. If we could keep a Keeper, welcoming new monsters and humans would be that monster’s job. I have half a mind to comm Sheriff Rygold and remind him he’s basically our stand-in mayor given that we don’t have a Keeper, but I suspect he’s sleeping off his troubles in stone form somewhere. His reluctance to fulfill the traditional duties leaves me to be the welcoming committee, unelected official and representative to monster headquarters, among other things.

“Yeah.” That’s all I can manage.

“Well,” Echo clears her throat, “she’s up here at Whiskey Business, and she is…somethin’ else.”

“Meaning what?” I reach into my truck and root around in a box in the back to make sure I’ve got presentable copies of PG’s new resident welcome book. I chuckle at finding my rooster, Roger, curled up on top of the books. He pecks my hand—hard—before fluttering out of the box and onto the seat, eyeing me dismissively.

“Roger,” I growl. “Do not start with me.” Of all the roosters I’ve got at my place, Roger’s the only one who likes to go for rides in the truck. He’s also the only one whose love language is pecking anything within reach.

I’m relieved to find out I’ve still got a stack of welcome books, and they seem to be in mostly good shape, other than bein’ covered in dust from me hauling them around in the truck. Plus the odd Roger feather.

“She’s too…pretty,” Echo barrels on. “All ruffly and city-looking.”