This is a series of short stories, detailing the adventures of Chelsea Childling. You can start with her origin story or pick something from the index.
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Chelsea doubled checked her text message once more and then consulted her map. “I don’t understand, Bent. I would have driven to Oklahoma and picked him up. Why are we in Texas?”

Her giant mutt huffed a sigh and pawed at the door on his side of the car, his pointed ears upright and eyes focused on the outside.

“Fine, let’s go for a walk. Jack will find us easier out there, anyway.” She grabbed his leash, to Bentley’s obvious annoyance. He’d never truly needed one since she found him on the side of the road, but she still used one in public.

Jackson had left her a message the night before, telling her to meet him at this stretch of highway in Texas. It was only a few hours from her current base in New Mexico, but she’d been willing to drive further to get him. It had been months since she’d actually seen him.

She wandered through the tourists, wondering what attraction she was missing. The bright sun blinded her, but she could make out the surrounding cornfields. Bentley pranced and sniffed at people, pleased with their attention as always, but whatever had drawn this crowd remained elusive.

“Well, hello, my little nun.” 

She spun toward the voice, a smile so wide her face hurt. “Jackson!”

His arms wrapped around her. She leaned into him. No taller than herself, and nothing but ropey muscle taut under his skin, he felt the same as always. She held on tightly for longer than was publicly polite, but she didn’t care. When she finally stepped back, she found his eyes. Bright green under a shock of dark hair, they twinkled and smiled just like she remembered.

Only then did she notice the truly huge backpack nearly dwarfing him as he flipped a can of spray paint into the air and caught it again. “Thought you’d dig this.”

“Dig what? I can’t see shit beyond four feet. The sun is bright.”

He snickered. “How did you hunt out here?”

“I didn’t. Rita Green told me to skip Texas, so I blew through on the way to Tucumcari.”

He nodded. “Good advice, really. Texas isn’t for newbie hunters.”

She threw back her shoulders. “I’ve been doing this for almost two years. How am I still a newbie hunter?”

His grin was the same too. Wide and bright and inviting you to smile with him. “Can you find a nest of namblits?”

“What the hell are namblits?”

“Newbie.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Asshole.”

He snickered and tossed the can of paint to her. “C’mon.”

She followed him down the dirt road with his spray paint in hand and Bentley on her heels. It was a few moments before the cars sticking out the dirt became clear. Someone had buried a row of cars, hood down, in the middle of a cornfield. And they were covered in spray paint. Chelsea watched, entranced and amused, as people tagged the cars. 

“I have more colors.” Jackson beamed at her. “Let’s see what you can do.” He shrugged off his backpack and unzipped it. A dozen more cans of spray paint in a rainbow of colors sat on top of clothes. He took Bentley’s leash. “Have at it.”

She shook her head. “I studied classical art, not modern methods”

“And?” He shrugged. “Have fun. Do art.”

The universe shifted around her, and for a moment, she was back at college. Her parents were dead, and it was all her fault. Painting and drawing were the only things that brought any semblance of joy, and even they hurt. She’d learned to love drawing from watching her parents.

Her heart raced and fear froze her. 

Bentley’s gently wagging tail caught her eye. He licked at her hand and her fear left her. She grabbed a can of black paint and turned to the nearest car. Avoiding the mud that defied the sun overhead, she sprayed a simple outline of her dog on the left side panel.

Jackson had the cans of brown and white paint waiting for her when she turned around. She beamed as she worked. Drips marred her work, but she didn’t mind. This wasn’t her medium; she was just having fun.

A recognizable if messy picture of Bentley, ears up and coat shaggy, formed at long last. She took a few pictures of it before leaning over to kiss Jackson. “Thanks.”

He brushed hair out of her eyes. “Any time.”

For a moment, there were no other people, and even the bright Texas sun didn’t register. All she could see was Jackson Hawk, a rare look of quiet, tenderness softening his face. Then he smiled and his eyes lit up. “Wow that was fast.”

She turned as he pointed. Someone was already covering her picture of Bentley with more paint. Chelsea laughed and picked up the leash from the ground. “Let’s head out.”

Bentley huffed and whined when she pointed to the backseat, but Jackson settling in the car beside her mattered more. The highway stretched out long and flat in front of them as they headed west.

Jack rested a hand on her neck. “Any word from Andy?”

“Yes, we have to call him once we get back to Ma’s place.”

“Ma?”

“If she has another name or title, no one’s mentioned in.”

“Gotcha. She’s friends with Rita Green, isn’t she?”

Chelsea shrugged. “They keep in contact. At least, Rita sent me out here to help her grandkids kill a vampire.”

“And now?”

“And now I’m helping her grandkids get revenge on the monster that killed their parents.”

“Revenge for dead parents, huh?”

“What does that mean?”

Jack shrugged. “Nothing. I just like knowing what’s going on.”

She shot him a look. “So we’re gonna start with lying and hiding and innuendo?”

“No, we started with you painting, but if you want to fight right away, we can do that too.”

“Jack, what are you getting at?”

“Nothing.”

She slowed and pulled her car to the shoulder of the highway. “What the hell are you going on about?”

He turned to her, eyes wide and clear in their concern. “You have a lot of issues with dead parents.”

“Oh.” She closed her eyes, relishing the dark. “I hadn’t even… I didn’t connect it to…”

“Then I’m sorry that I did. But it’s you and… I know how things hurt you.”

She opened her eyes to his face, close to hers. His hand on her neck tightened.  She rested her forehead on his. “I told you last time. I’m not that person anymore.”

He leaned back, studying her. “And back there? You froze up. I saw it.”

“Yeah, I did.” She settled back in her seat, and Bentley rested his head on her shoulder. “I still miss them. I still mourn them. But somehow, being out on the prairie, seeing how small I was every day, I could let go of the pain. I don’t dwell on them anymore. Or Dink.”

“Are you painting?”

“My Lord, you sound like Sister Mary Clarence.”

“That old nun loved you. And she asked that all the time.”

Chelsea scratched at Bentley’s snout before leaning towards Jackson. “I rented a cabin and painted all summer long. It was glorious. But no, I don’t paint on the road. I do sketch occasionally and I take tons of pictures.”

“Good.” Jack shrugged. “I just wanted to know what was up. I’m trying to take care of you.”

“Thanks.” She wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s just a few hours to Ma’s place. Hope you like Motown.”

She pulled back on to road and turned on the radio. As always, she sang along, off key and loud as she could. Jackson didn’t start laughing until Bentley joined in.