The humor dripped out of Austin’s expression. “Theft?”
“Edgar was speaking to me about the flowers. Don’t they look great? In just a couple of months, he has replaced everything the basajaun ate.” I lifted my hand like Vanna White might’ve.
“There are way too many,” Austin said, not at all worried about criticizing the vampire. Which was well and good for him—Edgar had never asked Austin to kill him, to my knowledge.
“Yes, well, there were a lot of them,” Edgar said, bending again.
Austin cocked his head, surveying the property. “It looks like Ivy House is a flower farm for funeral homes…”
I elbowed him. “Or weddings and birthdays. Very cheery.”
“It’s just…” Edgar paused for a moment. “At the outskirts of the yard, where the flowers tuck into the wood, something has been eating the flower heads and tops of the stems.”
“Deer?” Austin asked.
Edgar turned a beaming smile Austin’s way, replete with multicolored fangs. The whitening strips I’d recommended he use had a hard time counteracting the habitual consumption of blood. “Great minds! I did mention it could be deer. Except deer don’t typically enjoy magically treated flowers.”
“That’s right, you cheat to win your flower festivals,” Austin murmured.
I stifled a laugh. Edgar used a magical serum to ensure the flowers grew beautifully regardless of the time of year, which meant he always won the county home and garden festivals against the non-magical competition. He maintained that anyone could use the special serum, but of course Dicks and Janes had no knowledge of the serum. Most of them looked down on Agnes’s New Age vibe.
“I haven’t had any reports of the basajaun being in town lately,” Austin said.
“Ah.” I shook my head and grinned. “Duh. I hadn’t pieced together he was talking about the basajaun.”
“Well, you know, I wouldn’t want to call an innocent creature down, so you can understand my hesitation to name names,” Edgar said, waving his hands in front of him. “But he does love my flowers. That was entirely evident in how thoroughly he ransacked them from the house…”
“I don’t think it’s the basajaun.” I slipped my hands into my jeans pockets. “I didn’t give him unlimited access to the grounds, and he has a very firm code of ethics when it comes to trades. He wouldn’t encroach on my territory without speaking to me first.”
“So you didn’t tell the basajaun he could happen by and have a snack whenever he’s in town?” Edgar asked tentatively.
“No. And like Austin said, no one has seen him. He’s up on his mountain, probably scaring hikers. It is highly unlikely that he is your flower thief. Besides, he’s nine feet tall and super thick—a snack for him is a lot more than a few flowers. It’s probably just a deer with deficient taste buds or something.”
“Yes, you’re right. I just worried…” He sighed in relief. “It would’ve been fine, of course. This is your house and your yard and, by default, your flowers. I just champion for the grounds. And I did put in that row near the wood to hopefully slow him down so I could try to reserve my future prizewinners, but I wanted to nip the situation in the bud…” He lifted his eyebrows and chuckled. “Get it? Because we’re talking about flowers?” Austin turned to look at him with a blank stare. “Anyway, I was hoping to put some parameters on the feeding frenzy. If it had been him, of course. I wasn’t accusing him, just wondering, that’s all.”
I stopped myself from laughing. “If I trade for flowers again, Edgar, you’ll be in on the negotiations this time.”
“Oh, good. Yes, that’s comforting.” He put his hand out. “I remain your humble servant, of course, merely in charge of growing your flowers, not ruling them.”
Austin continued to stare, no expression. It was the look he favored when dealing with Edgar. Laughter slipped out of me.
“If you do strike another bargain, I’ll put together a nice little buffet for him,” Edgar went on. “I have some real delectable treats. I’d love to plan his courses, even.” He steepled his hands against his lips and bowed his head. “If I might be allowed.”
Austin shook himself out of the moment. “I’ll wait for you out front,” he said to me.
I laughed harder and put my hand against his popping bicep. “No, it’s fine. We’re done. Right, Edgar? There was nothing else?”
“That was it. I just wanted to get my ducks in a row. I’ll go ahead and make up a concoction to kill those deer—”
“Wait, what?” I pulled my hand away from Austin. “No, Edgar, you can’t kill the deer! Use a spray or something to keep them away.”
“Oh no, Jessie, if a rogue deer has developed a taste for my flowers, that’s the end of it. They’re a real pest. It’s like a drug to them. That’s why I was a little concerned about that basajaun. I don’t want to be immodest, but I am the lawn and gardens county winner at the home and garden festival every year. Killing it is the only way.”
My mouth dropped open. “No. You cannot… I thought you said deer don’t even typically like magical flowers?”
“They usually don’t, no, but every once in a while… You’ve heard of man-eating lions, haven’t you?” He tilted his head at me as if to denote there was a very real, very detrimental connection between the two phenomena. Austin was back to staring. “Once they get a taste for human flesh, that’s all they want. Same with those deer and my flowers. It’s safer to just put them down.”
“Don’t kill the deer,” Austin said, and a whip crack of power infused his words, the alpha in him demanding obedience.
Edgar’s jaw snapped shut. He bowed under Austin’s hard stare. “Yes, alpha. But please realize that I cannot be held responsible for the creatures constantly loitering around like groupies. I wash my hands of this.”
A silent beat followed, in which Austin and I stood staring at each other in the lovely March sunlight. Winter had been cold and sometimes harsh, compared to what I was used to in L.A., but it had rolled away pretty quickly, giving way to sunshine and the sea of flowers around us.
“Okay then.” I nodded, turned, and strode for the front of the house. There really wasn’t much more to say and do in this situation. Gotta stay away from those brain bubbles.
“I think he has gotten weirder,” Austin murmured as he caught up. “Man-eating lions and deer hanging around like groupies? What is he talking about?”
“Best not to question for too long. And it might not even be deer.”
Austin shook his head as we made our way to the front yard. Niamh sat on her porch across the way, rocking in her chair next to the pile of rocks she kept on hand in case a tourist happened to wander down the street to look at Ivy House. That poor tourist would quickly learn what an amazing shot Niamh was with those rocks.
“He really has gone overboard with the flower production.” Austin glanced at the flowers lining the little walkway that cut close to the house in the front before joining up with the main walkway to the front porch. “The smell is overwhelming.”