This is a series of short stories, detailing the adventures of Chelsea Childling. You can start with her origin story or pick any story from the index.

***

Chelsea rushed through her shower. She could barely bother to rinse the shampoo out of her hair, or care about getting the smell of the lake off her skin. Morgan had information on Amber.

She exited the tiny hotel bathroom to the smell of hot grease and cheese. Jack tried to banter as he handed out pizza and beer, but Chelsea didn’t respond.

Neither did Morgan, who sat with fingers clenched in Bentley’s soft black fur. The giant mutt preened under the attention.

Eventually, Jack settled on the bed, beer in hand. “We all good?”

Chelsea stared down Morgan, pinning her former hunting partner to the stained armchair. “Where’s Amber?”

Morgan blew a dark curl skyward. “Not in town anymore, but she was here for nearly a month.”

Chelsea settled on the cheap desk chair, sipped on her beer, and waited. 

“Anna… Amber, was looking for nightlings,” Morgan continued. 

Jack’s head whipped up. “What did she find?”

“I didn’t ask. We aren’t friends, and it wasn’t my business.” Morgan shrugged. “But I heard her asking about some nightlings and I know she caught a ride to Bremerton after that. There’s supposed to be someone there that tracks nightlings.”

Jack sighed. “Nightlings or demon lords?”

Demon Lords?

Morgan seemed just as confused. “Uh, I’m not sure.”

Jack nodded, eyes distant as he chugged his beer.

Chelsea set her untouched food aside. “This ride: did they come back? Are they planning to?”

Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know. He wasn’t a regular around here.”

The chair’s legs creaked as Chelsea leaned it back on the desk. “Bremerton is how far from here?”

“About an hour.” Morgan snorted. “If traffic is good. Or you can take the ferry.”

Chelsea chuckled as she turned to Jack. “So we’re heading to Bremerton.”

“Guess we are.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

They finished the pizza in near silence as Jack stayed lost in his thoughts, and neither Chelsea nor Morgan made much idle chitchat. Once all that remained were the grease stains, Chelsea offered Morgan a ride.

“Just to the haunt.” Morgan shrugged. “I need to get paid and set up my next hunt.”

Chelsea whistled, and Bentley rose with Morgan. “We’ll be back.”

Jack nodded, eyes still distant.

Nobody said much on the way to the haunt, but Morgan’s arms were tight around Chelsea as they said goodbye. She squeezed back just as hard, her anxiety ratcheting with every moment.

Chelsea returned to the hotel to find Jack still staring at the far wall. She unlaced her boots in the continued silence before snuggling up to him on the bed. “What are you thinking?”

He wrapped an arm around her. “That this might be goodbye for a while.”

She sat up, blood pounding in her ears. “What? Why?”

Jack took a long drink of beer. “How much did Andy tell you about me and Amber?”

She forced back her desire to scream at him for answers. “That it was a casual thing for you, but not her, and she didn’t want to acknowledge that.”

“Sounds like his version,” Jack said with a nod.

“His version?”

Jack sighed. “There’s never really one version of a story when it comes to people. We’re too complicated for that.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but shut it just as quickly. Taking a deep breath, she sorted her thoughts before continuing. “Like with you and me. I kept telling you I didn’t want to hunt, and even though you knew I’d end up doing this anyway, you respected my decision.” She paused and kissed his ear. “In the worst way, possible, but you did.”

He choked out a bitter laugh. “And to you, at the time, I just left you.”

“You did just leave me.” She let her temper out, just a little. “Fuck you and your note.”

He sighed. “And to me, my version is that I loved you, but you refused to believe me or even listen to me. So I left to protect myself.”

Her tiny flame of temper guttered out. “So who’s right here?”

He sighed. “Neither of us, and both. Which is the real bitch at the heart of this. The truth isn’t “in the middle” like some assholes think. We’re both right about what went down because it’s what we felt. Which isn’t always true, but you know…”

She nodded. “What’s your version of what happened with Amber?”

He finished his beer and pulled her close. “Nobody really loves me.”

She gasped and started to push away from him, arguments and denials sputtering to her lips.

He kissed her head and settled her back to his chest. “Until you. I know that. But people just… don’t want me.”

“Jack, that’s utter bullshit.” She hoped he could hear her rolling her eyes. “I can think of several people–”

“Oh, people, especially women, like having me around.”

She smacked his chest and laughed.

He snorted a laugh. “But they don’t love me. They don’t know me, or usually even want to.”

“Jack, what does this have to do with Amber?”

“Nothing and everything.” He settled his arms around her and took a deep breath. “This is kind of a long story. Are you sure you really want to know?”

Chelsea closed her eyes. She took in a deep breath, just letting herself enjoy him for a moment. He smelled of the cheap hotel soap and generic laundry detergent. He smelled like her car and Bentley. And under all that was just Jackson, something earthy and musky. The muscles of his chest were as tight under her cheek as his arms. 

She wiggled and squirmed until she had him as wrapped up as she was. Then she whistled for Bentley. The huge mutt immediately settled at their feet. “Of course I want to know.”