by Devon Monk
Rock Candy
An Ordinary Magic Story
Devon Monk
Odd House Press
For all you mischief makers who love this spooky time of year. And for my family, who know how to keep Halloween crazy, fun, and oh, so happy.
Contents
Just An Ordinary Halloween…
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Devon Monk
Just An Ordinary Halloween…
Police officer Jean Reed doesn’t normally mind pulling the graveyard shift in Ordinary Oregon, the sleepy little beach town where gods vacation and monsters reside. But October in Ordinary is anything but normal. One mob of cursed gnomes, one haunted harbor festival, and one chilling visit from Death makes this October stranger than most.
But it’s Jean’s boyfriend, Hogan, who really has her flustered. With their six month anniversary ticking down to Halloween, she wonders if their time together is anything more than a casual fling. When she discovers Hogan has been keeping secrets, Jean must decide if their relationship has been nothing but a trick, or if it’s been the one treat she’s always wished for.
Rock Candy Copyright © 2017 by Devon Monk
ISBN: 978-1-939853-07-3
Published: Odd House Press
Cover Art: Lou Harper
Interior Design: Odd House Press
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or book reviews.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Chapter One
Late. I, Police Officer Jean Reed, was late. I threw my controller onto the chair next to the couch and jogged to the bathroom. The alarm on my cell shouted the Venture Bros. theme song from somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes at the side of my bed. I hadn’t done laundry in a week because I hated doing it, so my room was a bit of a mess. I had three minutes to shower (made it in two), one minute to get into my uniform and boots (nailed it), and half a second to kiss the very sexy man lounging on my couch.
Hogan mumbled against my lips and slid a little sideways, crookeding up our mouths as he simultaneously tried to look past me at the screen where he was a tiny rock with a knight’s helmet and sword on a quest to fight a paper dragon.
“Watch for the sand pit, boyfriend,” I said.
“Got it.”
“Don’t stay up too late.” We were still kissing, our words tumbling between our lips.
“Got it.”
“Don’t go in the scissor forest without me.”
“Got it.”
“Watch the hammer hail!” We both broke the kiss. I was still leaning over him, my knee between his spread legs, one arm braced on the back of the couch. His pliant body went tense and alert beneath me.
It was sexy as hell.
We both stared at the screen while he totally shielded up and threw his sword into the clouds. Sunlight broke through and melted the storm of hammers.
I exhaled. “Nice.”
He paused the game. “Come here.” His hands slid over my hips and he tugged at me, drawing me down. He had that warm hungry look in his clear-blue eyes, his dark features softened to a dusky purple from the glow of the game.
“No. No way.” I pushed up, loving the slow friction of his palms resisting as I tried to get him to release me. “I am late. You need to go home and go to bed so you can wake up early and make me spicy maple bars, baker boy.”
“Pumpkin glazed cinnamon buns, actually. They can wait.”
It would be easy to stay, to wrap up in the mellow low tones of his words, to tease out of him the slight Jamaican accent he’d inherited from his mother.
But I was late. And super responsible. And...Hogan lifted up to press a kiss at my collarbone.
What was I saying? Oh, yeah. I was a police officer. Badge, duty, and justice for all, etc., etc.
“I think,” I said, as I finally pushed onto my feet, “that you better lock the door behind you and remember to put your cup in the sink this time.”
Hogan shifted until he was fully sitting. Such a fine-looking man, tall with nice wide muscular shoulders, a long torso that tapered to narrow hips. He had thighs that made me envy his jeans, and a butt I couldn’t keep my hands off.
But more than his ample physical aspects that drew me to him, he also had this deep, quiet gentleness that had surprised me when we first started dating after meeting on a gaming forum. His steady eyes and heart never missed anything, but he didn’t feel the need to talk all the time. Didn’t feel the need to judge, to declare, to order.
He was like tides, rolling in and out with an endless calm, with grace, with beauty.
It was no wonder he ran a bakery like a boss in our little seaside town where gods vacationed and monsters worked and lived. Not only did he have an amazing talent of teasing out the best and most unexpected combinations in pastries, breads, cakes and cookies, he also had a way of teasing out the best in his customers.
And in me.
That was a startling thing I still hadn’t come to grips with.
We were just dating. This was a casual thing. Fun. Fleeting.
And yet...
And yet Hogan had come over after his early shift ended and before my late shift began for five months now. Five months was almost half a year. I’d never dated anyone for so long.
I’d never wanted to until now. It scared the pants off of me.
“Ah, now you’re doing it.”
“Doing what?” I asked.
“Thinking too hard about us.”
“Like there’s anything to think too hard about. Us.” I tried to make it sound flip, but it came off as a question. Darn it.
“Go to work.” Calm, easy.
His smile said other things. His eyes said other things. And when he stood and kissed me, his lips said oh so much more: Yes, there was an us. Yes, we were still good. Yes, this thing was going to last another week, another month.
Yes, this was good and he was here, a part of this strange little life I lived in this strange little town I helped take care of.
Yes, all that, all me, was still enough for him.
I wanted to hear that from him. Wanted to know that he knew we were something that would last. Wished we had a promise between us, a pledge. Because I worried. Hogan had traveled. He was smart and successful. There was no place in the world where he couldn’t belong.
Sometimes I wondered if he could really be satisfied living here. Happy being here. Not just with this little town, but with me.
Experience told me the odds were not good on that. Most of my ex-boyfriends had left town the first chance they got. Had left me.
But there was a part of me that hoped this would be enough for him. That he’d stay here, and live here for a very long time.
He cupped my cheek with his palm and kissed me again on the forehead, a benediction, a habit, a good-bye ritual he’d done ever since I’d been hit by a car a month ago. “Be safe.”
“At my desk? Not a problem.” I pa
tted his butt, because who could resist that? Certainly not I. “Hatter’s going to take the graveyard shift patrol. It’s all good.”
“I know.” And that smile. That smile. It was secret, joyful, open, reckless. It was somehow all these things, all these Hogan things, all the parts of him I wanted to hold. All the parts of him I wanted to keep.
“That grin is so much trouble,” I said.
He chuckled and gave a passing effort at innocent eyes. “I like your hair all orange and purple.” He drew his fingers through the long wet strands of it.
“Flatterer. You better clean up the dishes and don’t forget to hit a save point before you switch over to river travel.”
He didn’t need me to tell him any of that. But I hoped he heard the things I had tried to wedge in between my words.
That I liked him. A lot. That I wanted him to stay in my life. Maybe for a long time.
I’m not a shy person. I never have any problem telling someone my opinion or giving them advice. I laugh things off, poke at the rules until they dent and bend, and generally act like life is not to be taken too seriously.
Being the forever-baby sister of the town’s infamous Reed sister trio has its perks. We are police officers like our dad was. Delaney, my eldest sister is the bridge for god powers. She is the one and only way gods can step into town, put their powers in storage, and vacation like mortals.
My middle sister, Myra, is serious about her book studies. Most of those studies involve the wisdom and arcane knowledge in the ancient texts Dad left in her safekeeping, just as his dad left them to him. She has a knack for always being in the right place at the right time.
And me? Well, I have the family gift of knowing when something really bad is going to happen. A month ago, that feeling was the only thing that gave me a split-second warning before a car had come barreling toward me.
I could have died instead of just been banged up a little.
So it’s a good talent to possess, but it isn’t as important as the things my sisters do and the gifts they possess.
Also, my gift isn’t without cost. Not that I’ve ever told anyone that.
“Jean.” Hogan rubbed his hands down my arms. Long, strong fingers caught to weave between mine. “What’s wrong?”
Nothing. That was the truth I wanted to believe. So I held onto it with both hands and all my heart.
“I’m late because some sexy son-of-a-bun is holding my hands like he’s going to ask me to go steady.” I grinned at him and batted my eyes.
He shook his head, but there was nothing but smile in him. Sunshine and warmth. Like a hearth fire. Like home.
Was I that for him too? Despite my bravado, I couldn’t work up the nerve to ask.
“I’ll see you soon.” He gave my hand one more squeeze, then flopped back down on the couch.
And just like that, the moment to ask him if he wanted the same thing I wanted: for our five months of dating to turn into something more, for us to agree that we needed each other for more than a week, a month, a year, had passed.
I could hear the clang of the rock knight cutting his way through the cardboard cliffs before I’d even gotten halfway across my living room to the door.
Chapter Two
Ordinary’s police station was a small one-story building tucked off the main coastal road: Highway 101. It had a screen of trees to one side, wetland at the back, and a parking lot on the other side.
Myra’s perfectly clean cruiser and Delaney’s old Jeep were both parked by the station. I parked my truck facing the wetlands instead because I loved how the trees and brush had gone brown and orange.
Autumn. My favorite time of year. Fall came early on the Oregon coast, trees shedding down to their bare bones only to be wrapped in heavy fog and draped in gowns of grey and rain. The wet had settled in for the long winter months, storms rising and falling between wedges of pale yellow sun breaks. Showers, drizzle, rain, downpours, would all take their turn rolling through from now until spring.
The air was filled with the smells of fires on the beach, rain in the pines, moss, green, dirt, and salt. And between all that floated the sweetness of coffee roasters, bakeries, and pumpkin spice.
Pumpkin spice everything.
I could see how some people couldn’t wait for Thanksgiving, for that warm, cozy comfort of family and food and familiar faces. I liked Thanksgiving just fine too.
But my holiday, the one I checked off the days on my calendar for, the one that I intended to start decorating for tomorrow, was Halloween.
I loved it as a kid. I loved seeing the monsters in town dress up as things they really weren’t, and loved it even better when they came out as their real selves. Loved it when they went all-out giving candy, running haunted houses, and hosting pumpkin carving contests. I loved it even more when the gods in town got into it. One year Frigg threw a costume ball so crazy and fun, I had never found the bra I’d been wearing.
I loved the witches, hexes, ghosts and ghouls. I loved the Halloween movies and cartoons that played non-stop from October first to October thirty-first. I loved the old silent horror movies, and the newer, much more screamy, bloody ones. I was a sucker for pumpkin patch hay mazes and apple bobbing and just…everything.
Halloween was my jam, and I celebrated it every single day through October.
I got out of the truck, ignored the drizzle, and made my way into the station. As soon as I stepped through the door, I knew I was in trouble.
Every person in the room had their finger on their nose.
“You all look ridiculous.” I took off my coat and tried not to let my panic show.
Something was going on. It must be a bad thing since every person on the force was acting like a three-year-old.
“Hey, baby sister,” Delaney said in her not-boss voice. “We have a little job for you.”
I waved my hand at all of them. “You can stop grinning and pointing at your noses. I get it. I’m pulling crap duty. Bring it on.”
“No argument?” Myra raised one of her sculpted brows. She was always so put together, and she totally owned the rock-a-billy look.
I snuck an extra glance at Delaney. She’d been shot with a vampire-killing bullet about a month ago. Even though she had tried to pass it off as no big thing, that had been the second bullet she’d been on the wrong end of this year.
Her recovery had taken time. Ryder Bailey, her boyfriend who was standing in the corner of the room looking all rugged and handsome as our reserve officer, had moved her in with him. As far as I could tell things were going good for them.
Really good.
That made me happy in a way nothing had for a long time. I mean, I’d been waiting forever for them to finally catch a frickin’ clue and see how good they were together.
Ryder and Delaney had known each other nearly all their lives. In second grade, I’d caught Ryder making a wish on a dandelion fluff. He’d been really quiet when he’d done it, his voice just a whisper. But he didn’t know I’d been there, right around the corner, digging a hole I was going to fill with water so I could make mud monsters.
His wish? He wanted Delaney to love him like he loved her.
And I’d heard it.
Everybody knew if you heard a wish someone else made, that wish wouldn’t come true.
Which, yeah, maybe that wasn’t how it worked. Wishes were tricky magic, and I certainly wasn’t someone who knew all the ins and outs of that.
But when I’d been seven, I’d known three things: Ryder loved my sister. I’d heard him wish for her to fall in love with him, which meant it couldn’t come true. Therefore, I had to do everything I could to make sure his wish came true.
And I had. Of course Ryder had waffled between throwing longing looks her way and ignoring her completely all through high school. Delaney had done the same with him. And no matter what I tried, they never seemed to both be in the longing stage at the same time.
Then Ryder had gone out of state for six years of college, a
nd I figured all those years of me finagling to get them together were wasted.
But he’d come home almost two years ago now.
And look at them: in love.
Hatter snapped his fingers. “Jean?” he said in that Texas accent that I thought he just put on so people would buy his long-and-lanky, easy-going cowboy vibe. “I think we broke her.”
“Please.” I rolled my eyes. “Like anything about this job can break me. What is it, what do I have to do?”
“You do know what day today is?” Hatter asked.
“September thirtieth?”
Shoe snorted a laugh, which was all the laugh that man could make. Shoe had been Hatter’s partner when they’d been on the force up in Tillamook before we’d stolen them for the force here. He was Hatter’s opposite in just about every way. Short, wide, reticent, suspicious, and seemingly humorless. Seemingly, but not actually without humor. Get a few drinks into that man, and he was a hoot.
“Try again,” Hatter suggested. He waggled his eyebrows and bit down on a juicy grin.
“It’s the first,” Delaney said, totally squashing his fun. “October first, Jean. Tonight, when the sun goes down in three hours, you’ll need to be ready.”
I heard her, but the only words that registered were the date. October first. Already? Yes, of course, already. I’d just been admiring the autumn leaves and reminiscing about Halloween.
How had I forgotten the horror we had to deal with every October?
“Jean?” Delaney said.
Hatter snapped his fingers again.
I glanced up at him. At her. At all of them. Felt the fear crawl over my skin with prickly feet. “The gnomes.”
It came out as a rough whisper.
