“After I read you and we kiss, then we can go back to Matilda and her friend’s place, right?”
“Yep.”
“And then when I still love you and want to marry you, could we go out to dinner together?”
“Indeed. But only if you still love me and want to marry me.”
The “this and that” Ruby planned involved spending the afternoon searching for the redheaded man with the bottle of blue knockout spray. No way would she let him get away with stealing time from Max.
First stop, the Pinehurst Inn, home of the giant cockroach, to search for anyone new in town, then work through the other bed-and-breakfast establishments and motels to find any and all non-human newcomers working to thwart her new friend.Boyfriend. Future husband. Stop it.
She felt loyal to Max. He was this huge, tall, muscular Alpha alien who could wield an axe at a party and not look out of place, but as she came to know him, he seemed very much a gentle soul. He made her feel more comfortable than anyone she’d ever contemplated as a partner.
There was a sense of wonder in his manner as he experienced living in Nocturne Falls. Ruby hadn’t been here long, but she loved it. This place was her home. Gratitude was the most prevalent feeling when she thought about living in this unusual town.
She was finally comfortable with her new family, with her new job, with this new man who, while understandably concerned about the strange things happening to him, was not angry or belligerent. Not like he expected disaster at every turn, but more that he rolled with the punches, never getting wrathful or hateful when things didn’t go as expected.
Ruby appreciated his demeanor when he was with her. He was not judgmental about anything she did. She often waited for it, like she had with Aunt Vilma, Warrick and Viktor when she’d first arrived in town. It took some time, but she came to trust their friendly support and genuine love. Even the excessive teasing from her brothers made her feel like she belonged.
Max made her feel like she didn’t have to change or be anyone but who she was for him to appreciate her. Not like when she lived with her maternal family, where her days consisted of endless demands to be something she was not, caustic rebukes as to her wishes in life and, worse, indifference as to her very existence when she wouldn’t cave to their commands to be something she wasn’t: a powerful witch.
Her grandmother especially had watched her with continual disappointment, as if it was Ruby’s fault she’d been sired by someone the family absolutely disapproved of. Ruby’s skills as a witch were so weak, she often wondered if her father hadn’t been completely pureborn, but hadn’t had the courage to ask Aunt Vilma.
A distant memory shot to the forefront of Ruby’s mind. It was one of the last interactions Ruby had with her grandmother before she left for Nocturne Falls. The old woman had fallen asleep in her rocking chair. When Ruby woke her, her grandmother opened her eyes, stared at Ruby and said sleepily, “Bogdan, is that you?”
“Who is Bogdan?” she’d asked.
Her grandmother shook her head and pretended she hadn’t said anything. As the old woman pulled free of sleep, she promptly derided what Ruby was wearing as pagan and not what a lady of their class would wear. Another not so wonderful memory of her previous life.
The Pinehurst Inn’s clerk was spectacularly unhelpful. She’d hoped to find out if any new, skinny, blue-bottle wielding, fire-bug tenants were in residence but didn’t expect such a wall of defiance with her first interview.
After citing privacy rules and various statutes regarding room rental and the state of Georgia’s rules on privacy, he would only say therewerenew guests registered in the past week, but now how many or who they were.
Also, not when they arrived. Not if they came together or separately. Not what their room numbers were. He refused to say anything else. “Not unless you have a warrant!”
The guy obviously watched too much television. Ruby silently fumed, thanked him for his “help” and exited.
An unknown quantity of people registering in the past week was not very insightful. However, her ability to read upside down often came in very handy. The guest book had been open and she saw the last two entries, the date they arrived—five days apart—and the room numbers assigned to each guest.
The clerk’s fingers had covered the names, and all she’d seen was that the most recent guest had a first name that started with M. But perhaps Howard was here, that was his last name and his first started with M. The earlier entry had a name that ended in a T, which could be anything.
Ruby knocked on the doors of the assigned rooms to see if anyone was home who had red hair or looked like Howard. But after repeated knocking with no response, she accepted that either the guests were out or they refused to answer. She’d come back and try again later.
On the way back from the Pinehurst Inn, she stopped by the chocolate shop for an after-lunch treat. She also picked up a variety chocolate box to share with Max later, hoping he loved chocolate from Delany’s Delectables as much as she did. It wasn’t a deal breaker, but she suspected she would end up having to share anything she bought there in the future. That made her smile.
Ruby allowed a piece of heavenly chocolate truffle to melt on her tongue as she headed in the direction of a new bed-and-breakfast that had opened for business recently.
It was a lovely day, more so after sharing a delightful lunch with a non-judgmental man who didn’t blink at her ordering a double cheeseburger with fries or gawk as she finished every bite.
Before she walked three more steps, a giant explosion from behind her in the vicinity of the gargoyle fountain rocked her nearly off her feet. Fire and smoke billowed up into the sky, sending Ruby running toward the danger, not away from it. She wove through the crowd of tourists fleeing the explosion and arrived as the fire was vanquished by the gargoyle on duty, who scooped water from the fountain onto the sidewalk.
Luckily, the few tourists still in the vicinity seemed impressed that the animatronic gargoyle was sophisticated enough for fire suppression rather than wondering about paranormal activities.
But who would try to set the gargoyle fountain on fire?
Chapter Eleven
