Chapter 39 Sheriff.

Chapter 39: 39 Sheriff.

"Her Uncle is Death?!"

"And the family dog is a whole other complicated thing to unpack," I sighed. "But then I’m just going by what people say."

"Well, they seem to say a lot. Perhaps this Countess Beaumont or her mother are connected to Black Lazarus?" Ayra suggested in a tone that was either hopeful or concerned.

I shook my head. "I very much doubt it. From what I hear, the Countess’s mother has been on Earth way longer than these portals have been opening by a lot—like, centuries. Plus Beaumont’s whole priority was stability for her town. Interdimensional invasions would not go well with the mission statement of keeping Wapa Lake pure and unchanged for when her parents return. She hasn’t let new technology inside Wapa Lake at all in like ten years, and what little influence she has on the surrounding area keeps old tech locked in around these parts too."

We watched the cleanup continue for a while. The skeletons worked pretty damn efficiently in scrubbing away every trace of otherworldly residue and whatever remaining monster guts there were. Whatever had come through the portal was already gone—probably dealt with before we’d even left my property.

"Efficient," Elsa admitted grudgingly. "Though I find it unsettling that the undead are more organized than the living."

"Welcome to Wapa County," I said. "Where the monsters occasionally handle civic duties and the humans just try not to think about it too much."

A local news van pulled up nearby, and a reporter I recognized from Channel 6 hopped out, landing deftly for a chick in heels. She immediately approached the sheriff, who was still consulting with the skeleton supervisor. The sheriff waved her off, pointing toward an official-looking skeleton wearing a "PUBLIC RELATIONS" sash.

"They have a skeleton for media relations," I muttered. "Even I just got shocked."

"Should we not... assist?" Ayra asked, watching the proceedings with obvious disappointment. "We came to battle evil, but... well, there’s nothing to do."

"I think the evil’s been thoroughly battled," I said. "Come on. Let’s head home before someone recognizes us."

The drive back was quieter as both women processed what they’d seen and learned, I figured. I’d grown up in New Gotham further out east, where the weirdest thing you’d encounter was a place called 99 Cent Pizza that charged two-fifty per slice. Moving to Wapa County had been my attempt to escape attention, figuring nobody would follow me to America’s only vampire-controlled territory.

"So you fled here for safety when you won all your money," Elsa said, apparently following my thoughts. "Believing pursuers would fear to enter a darkened kingdom."

"Pretty much. After the lawsuit, every distant relative, old classmate, and random scammer came looking for me. I needed somewhere they absolutely wouldn’t follow." I gestured at the landscape. "Can’t get much more ’nope’ than vampire country."

"A clever strategy," she approved. "Using greater predators to deter lesser threats."

When we got home, I parked the truck and we headed inside. The adrenaline of our non-adventure was wearing off rapidly, leaving us all feeling a bit deflated. Ayra flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.

"I had hoped for glorious combat," she pouted, ears flattening.

"Be grateful," Elsa advised, settling into her favorite chair. "Combat has consequences. A peaceful resolution is preferable. I, for one, am glad I didn’t have to raise a finger."

"Easy for you to say. You hate exerting yourself."

Elsa nodded. "Correct."

"Anyone want tea? Coffee? Something stronger?" I offered as I walked toward the kitchen.

"Tea, please," Elsa called back. "With honey, as you’ve learned I prefer, thank you."

"I’ll have whatever fermented beverage you possess!" Ayra added hopefully.

I put the kettle on and grabbed a beer for Ayra, then remembered something all of a sudden. "Hey, I need to water the plants. Haven’t done it in a few days."

I filled my spray bottle and made the rounds, misting the various houseplants I’d inherited with the property. The previous owner had let the fields and the buildings go, but she’d been quite the gardener, and I felt obligated to keep her green babies alive out of a sense of duty.

When I returned to the living room, the conversation had shifted to backgrounds.

"...and the crystal caverns stretched for miles beneath the palace," Elsa was saying. "I spent countless hours there as a child, hiding from my tutors."

"Your childhood always sounds so lonely to me," Ayra observed, her tail wagging thoughtfully. "In the Packlands, pups are never alone. We sleep in great furry piles, play in groups, and learn together."

"Privacy is valued differently among elves," Elsa replied, a bit defensively. "Solitude allows for proper contemplation and—"

She was interrupted by the crunch of gravel outside, followed by headlights sweeping across the windows. Someone was pulling into my driveway.

Ayra’s reaction was instantaneous and absolutely mortifying. She leaped from the couch and rushed to the door, barking—actually barking—at whoever was outside.

"WOOF! WOOF! Intruders approach unexpectedly! WOOF! Master, danger! WOOF WOOF!"

"Ayra!" I hissed, but she was in full guard dog mode. Thankfully, Elsa grabbed the spray bottle from my hand and gave Ayra three quick spritzes to the face.

The effect was immediate. Ayra yelped and spun around, water dripping from her nose. Her expression shifted from fury to wounded betrayal.

"You... you sprayed me like a common house pet!"

"You were barking like one," Elsa pointed out rather reasonably.

Ayra’s response was as predictable as a clock. She dropped to all fours and pulled down her shorts, presenting her naked backside. "I have shamed myself and must be disciplined! Please, Master, correct my behavior!"

The doorbell rang.

"Later," I promised, helping her up. "Right now, I need you to act human and make yourself scarce. Can you do that?" I said as I grabbed the beret from a hook by the door and plopped it on her head.

She nodded, though her tail was tucked in embarrassment. I straightened my shirt and opened the door.