No going against the Goddess.
But…Jules.
Elouan and Jules’s contact became limited to the phone after they shared a bed, always starting withAre you busy?from either Elouan or Jules. Elouan would take whatevercommunication he could get, but desired so much more. Why, though, if their relationship seemed doomed to failure from the start?
If only Sakaris would come. But what if Sakaris didn’t? He’d sealed the passageway between the realms. Did that mean no dragon on this side would ever go home? There had to be a way. So much couldn’t depend on a single dragon, mage or no. Mages depicted on television were nothing like Elouan’s reality, where they controlled portals to other worlds, acted as advisors to kings, knew things others didn’t, and shared the Goddess’s will. They didn’t merely wave a hand and cause something to happen or produce objects out of thin air—much.
They were just as easy to kill as any other dragon, even if Sakaris had managed more years than most.
Elouan had almost given up on seeing Jules when a text appeared on Thursday night:I don’t have classes tomorrow. Want to meet after work?
Good thing Jules wasn’t there. Elouan’s shout might’ve scared him.Sure! What do you have in mind?
After a few long, painful, uncertain moments, Jules answered,I don’t know. You picked last time, and things went well. I trust you to try again.
Would taking Jules dancing be too much?Six p.m.?That would give Elouan time to get home, shower, change, and meet somewhere near Jules’s home, since he’d seen no car in the driveway of the blue house. Could he possibly go to the front door and finally meet Jules’s family?
A smiley emoji appeared on the screen, along withI’ll be there! Just tell me where.
Okay, maybe Jules wasn’t ready for Elouan to come knocking. Was he out to his family, or hiding his desire for men?
Still, meeting Jules, having any time at all with him….
Having something to look forward to dispelled all negative thoughts from Elouan’s mind.
Elouan didn’t mention to Jules—yet—that he’d taken a few hours off from work that Friday to handle personal business, even making an appointment with a realtor.
He put in a few hours, then clocked out and took his truck to a house a few streets over from Jules’s that he’d never have noticed if not for the times he’d been in the neighborhood recently.
Elouan turned the truck down the quiet, tree-lined street. While these houses weren’t as stately as those closer to Jules’s house, and some needed landscaping, they still showed promise. He eased into the driveway of a small, one-story bungalow with a “For Sale or Rent” sign out front. Not as well-kept as some of the neighboring houses, though cozy, if one overlooked the peeling paint and scraggly front lawn.
The brick home looked as if it had stood empty for some time. Elouan evaluated the quaint structure with a critical eye, letting out a low whistle. It definitely needed work, but the place had good bones. Someone must have retouched the photo in the online ad, because the house didn't look nearly as nice firsthand. No denying the potential, though. Given the desirable neighborhood, Elouan could double the value in less than a year, especially if he did most of the work himself. The latest nearby houses to sell gave him an idea of what he could ask for.
He got out of the truck. More details came into view the closer he got. Cracks in the sidewalk needed repair, and some stones from the front steps could do with fresh mortar. Still,minor upkeep. The trim needed painting, and a shutter hanging precariously by one hinge needed a few screws.
The porch of poured concrete practically begged for a good pressure-washing, and if Elouan lived here, he’d want to update the windows with more energy-efficient models. Small stained-glass panes surrounded the front door, two broken. He’d have to find a specialized glazier to restore the image.
He peered through the front window. Hardwood floors, though scuffed and in need of refinishing. Still, add something to the plus column. A chimney suggested a fireplace, though he’d have to check the condition.
Elouan traipsed around to the back of the house, where a chain-link fence surrounded the backyard. The metal roof showed no signs of damage, and a tall oak tree offered shade, but also meant raking, as demonstrated by years of leaves on the ground in various stages of decay. A few gold leaves clung to the branches, but most had given up the fight to hold on.
Which meant checking for any damage the tree roots might’ve caused.
Elouan stood on tiptoe to peer into a reasonably sized kitchen, where two people could work together without constantly bumping into each other like at Curtis’s apartment.
Curtis’s apartment. Already, Elouan no longer thought of the place as home. Could this fixer-upper behishome one day? He rounded the corner and peered into what must have been a bedroom. More hardwood, a fireplace, and a reasonably sized room—certainly larger than Curtis’s guestroom.
Elouan really needed a place of his own to take Jules. This house had potential as a personal residence and an investment. While he’d love enough acreage to shift and fly, the house boasted a nice backyard for this area.
The realtor arrived a few moments later. He didn’t hesitate when taking in Elouan’s old truck or casual dress. From his timeon construction sites, Elouan learned buyers didn’t always come in a suit and tie, and just because they didn’t flaunt their money didn’t mean they weren’t wealthy enough to buy property.
Besides the magic word “pre-approved” tended to get notice. He wouldn’t say, “I’ll just write you a check” until he decided to buy.
The realtor got out of his own truck, far newer than Elouan’s, and marched confidently to the steps. “Mr. Aaron?” For his part, the realtor wore khaki pants, a pale blue polo shirt, and a brown leather jacket. He wore his hair in tiny braids that fell past his shoulders. “Derrick Johnson.” He extended his hand. “We spoke on the phone.” His voice held a rich burr that Elouan had heard once from a coworker who’d grown up in South Carolina’s low country.
Elouan shook hands with the realtor. “Nice to meet you.”
Derrick nodded. He scanned the area, expression giving nothing away. Of course he couldn’t, not with a commission on the line. “Likewise. Are you ready to look inside?”
