Page 12 of Tail Me No Lies
The sun dipped near the horizon, painting the sky pink and purple. By the time they reached the edge of the property, the soft shadows of dusk gathered.
The house appeared after a bend in the drive. Half stone and half plaster and timber, it was older, in the traditional Corravian design with a gently sloping roof, arched doors, and windows in sets of three. A once cheery yellow had faded and been scoured at the corners from years of storms.
Despite being worn and a touch shabby, the house had a comfortable, loving feel. The floors creaked, the furniture was older than her, and the heater made alarming noises, but it felt like home.
Beyond the old farmhouse was a newer structure, the lab. The wind had also scrubbed away exterior paint, leaving behind dull, gray metal. Built from a rapid construction kit, it was metal paneling and fiberglass modular pieces, designed to slot together like a child’s building blocks. Need more space? Slap down a foundation, attach walls and a roof, and done. The panels connected easily and came with utility functions preinstalled. It was so easy even a retiree and his assistant in her mid-thirties could do it.
The other buildings—barn, outbuildings, and storage—had fallen into disrepair. No actual farming had taken place in more than a decade. Pastures meant for grazing were empty. No chickens, or the Corravian equivalent, had clucked and pecked on the grounds in years. The only farm animals in residence were the wuap, mostly because they were feral and lived in a barn. At least they kept the rodents in check.
Ruth saw the property with fresh eyes, wondering how it appeared to Nox. She loved this place, shabbiness and all. Stubborn resolve dug itself down deeper inside her. She wasn’t about to let Geral and some rumors drive her away. She’d finish the professor’s research. Geral could go kick rocks for all she cared.
Truthfully, Ruth had been surprised when she inherited the professor’s farm. She hadn’t known the old man updated his will. Hadn’t even suspected. Why would she? She was his employee, not family, and certainly not a love interest. She came to Corra to work with the retired professor on heritage grains. Not super exciting stuff, but it thrilled her agri-scientist heart.
“Are you hungry? I’m not much of a cook, but I can do the basics,” Ruth said as they approached the house.
“That is agreeable.” He gave a yawn, his jaw opening wider than should be possible. Fangs caught in the fading light.
“We can do a tour in the morning. I’m sure you’re tired.”
“I have been traveling much of the day,” he said.
The vehicle rolled to a stop. Headlights illuminated a figure waiting on the porch.
Geral.
Nox
Nox disliked the Corravian male instantly. He had a golden tawny complexion and horns that spiraled from the top of his head. Dressed in a white shirt and trousers, the once crisp and pressed fabric now drooped in the heat. He wore too much ornamentation—rings on his fingers and hoops on his horns. Polished to a sheen, the golden rings were clunky and heavily jeweled. The hoops jingled when he moved. The display was excessive.
More than the male’s general vanity, Nox disliked the arrogance on his face. This was a male used to getting his way.
“That must be Geral,” Nox said. It seemed he was going to earn his keep immediately.
“What’s he doing here?” Ruth asked, inadvertently confirming his statement. “That man is worse than a poison ivy rash on your junk.”
Nox definitely wanted her to explain that statement, but he had more pressing issues at the moment. “Remain here. I will deal with this.”
He exited the vehicle before she could protest. It was a shame, too. He enjoyed listening to her explain her work. He knew she kept the technical details as simple as possible for his benefit, but her enthusiasm was obvious. She believed in her work, which was a rarity in Nox’s world. He had been surrounded by the jaded and disillusioned nearly his entire life. In his world, people only looked out for themselves.
He certainly did. There was no value in loyalty. Allegiance only lasted as long as it was useful, or a better offer came along. No hard feelings.
“So, it’s true. Ruth went and bought herself a mate.” The male gave Nox a long look. An ugly sneer settled on his face. “I don’t know what she told you, but she’s a liar.”
Nox leaned against the vehicle, willing his posture to be casual and relaxed, despite wanting to tear the male’s hide to shreds.
Geral stood on the top step, folded his arms over his chest, and scowled. It was a world-class scowl. Very evocative. Very scowly. No doubt he intended the pose and the added height to be intimidating, but he appeared frightened, as if he had to protect his vital organs.
“I believe you are trespassing,” Nox said.
“That would be her first lie. The female does not own this place.” Venom dripped from his words.
“Did the court not uphold your father’s will? Was that a lie?”
“This land has been in my family for generations. No city judge can keep me from what is mine,” he spat.
“I suggest you leave,” Nox said in a cool tone. What was it with spitting? The frontier areas of Corra had a reputation for being rough and uncultured, but what he had seen thus far was unhygienic.
“You gonna make me, Tal?” Geral descended the steps, each heavy step a threat. The scowl intensified.
