Page 13 of Live Love Lasso

I imagine calling my father to update him on my first day here.

Hey, Father, yeah, it was great. Letitia hates my guts, and there’s a half-dead moose in a hole in my backyard!

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose as I head to the front porch to wait for Bluebell.

Furyon

“Furyon, get over to four-thirty-two right now please.” Bluebell’s urgent tone has me up out of my bed. She doesn’t call me in the middle of the night without reason.

“What’s up?” I button my work shirt and pull on jeans.

“Dead moose,” she says quietly.

Fuck. That explains the twinge in my tattoo earlier this evening. I drove around looking for the moose, but they’re solitary, and I couldn’t find any of them.

Sadness rolls through me. The Gulch’s moose herd is small but mighty. They were once hunted to near extinction, but we passed legislation a few centuries ago to protect them and other prey animals from the more predatory monsters that live in the haven system. Killing a moose or mustang is a crime punishable by life in Belcastle prison. It’s a big fucking deal. When one dies, it’s a huge loss for us.

“Natural causes?” I slip my feet into my boots and grab my keys on the way out the door. A pit hell by my door groans and rolls over, yawning as I head outside.

Bluebell sighs. “I’m not sure. Its eyes are a weird milky white, Furyon. I’ve never seen anything like this. It looks…enthralled.”

I freeze at the word. “We don’t get thralls.” The bewitched monsters are saturated in dark magic and drawn to the powerful wards that protect the haven system. Not all monsters agree with our hidden worlds, and some actively try to expose us to humans. Thankfully, they’ve never yet won and out here in Montana we’re fairly isolated from that drama.

“I know, I know,” she says. “I haven’t seen a thrall near Pine Gulch since I was a kid, but I’m telling you that’s what this looks like. When Lemon found it, it was still alive. Twitching, she said, so I told her not to touch it. But by the time I got here, it was gone.”

Throwing my truck door open, I assure her I’m on the way. Then I call Echo, who answers with a dissatisfied-sounding grumble.

“Echo, meet me over at four-thirty-two, okay?”

“Why, Boss?” She yawns loudly into the watch.

“Dead moose.” I grimace and glance down at the singular silver moose tattoo on the inside of my left arm. It twinges softly, a sure sign that something’s not right.

A quarter hour later, the pain morphs to a steady throbbing as I cross the back yard of the cottage to find Bluebell and the new girl, Lemon, staring into the water testing hole.

Bluebell turns to me with a sorrowful look, waving at the hole. “It’s in there.”

Lemon looks warily at me, wrapping her arms over her chest. Her blonde waves are perfectly mussed. She could’ve just rolled out of a loungewear catalog.

Echo appears by my side, snuffling as we step carefully to the edge of the hole.

Sure as shit, a dead moose is crumpled inside the hole, its head thrown back to rest against its neck. Its eyes are open and milky white. Kinda reminds me of a vampire’s second eyelid.

Echo darts a look at Lemon. “You haven’t been here two days, and you’re already in trouble?”

Lemon gasps and waves at the hole. “Surely you’re not suggesting I’m responsible for this?” She looks between us. “Why is there even a giant hole here for animals to fall into anyway?!”

Bluebell rubs Lemon’s shoulder. “You’ll find these holes all over the Gulch. Originally, they were for testing water for wells, and they just never got filled. We all kinda know to steer clear of ‘em, and the animals don’t usually have a problem.” She gives Lemon a friendly half smile. “We’re not saying you did this, Lemon. But killing a moose or one of the wild horses is a really big deal. That’s why I called Furyon. We need to figure this out.”

I haven’t formed an opinion yet, but I’m not ruling anything out. We don’t have trouble like this in the Gulch, and this woman is new to town.

I nudge Echo in the side. “We gotta get in the hole.”

She cracks her neck and rolls her broad shoulders. “Don’t love that, Boss.”

“I know, but it’s gotta be done. Grab the test kit from my truck and come back.”

Half an hour later, I still can’t tell what killed the moose, but I know one thing for sure. Crawling out of the hole, I look between the women. “This moose didn’t die of natural causes.”