Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

NATALIE

I've never liked the term "black sheep." I feel like it somehow frowns on the idea of being original or unique. Like it suggests that we should all be the same, or else we get called out. And believe me, I've been called the black sheep of my family enough times to know that it never feels great. Just because I'm different, it makes me somehow bad? Please.

Here's the thing about my family. They practically run the town of Haven's Hollow, but not in a creepy mobster way. They all just do their part to make it the cutest little town that ever there was. My brother Griffin is the mayor. My sister Aerin owns the kitschiest diner, doing her part for the tourist trade. My cousin Lauriel was recently promoted to bank manager, and my cousin-slash-best friend Haven…well, Haven does everything. Runs a resort, knows literally everybody, manages any and every crisis that arises. Organizes festivals, does covert match-making. You know the type. Everybody loves Haven, myself included.

But then there's me. The wayward drifter who, at twenty-six, still lives on the family homestead—although at least I live in one of the guest houses and not in the big house with Mom and Dad. I'm the dreamer who likes to spend hours painting and making my own clothes and rambling around the property. The one who hasn't yet "realized her potential," as my grandpa once said. But I love the town my ancestors founded as much as anyone, and I finally figured out how to make my mark.

I'm going to prove monsters are real.

And that they live right here in Haven's Hollow.

And then our tourist trade, which is built on monster lore, will really explode.

I'm using the term "monster" loosely, of course, because I'm not sure what else to call them. Cryptids? Supernatural beings? Maybe monster is wrong, because I feel like it kind of has a negative connotation, like these creatures are evil or scary. And some of them probably are. But what I'm really talking about are non-human, sapio-sentient creatures. I'm positive they're out there, and I'm determined to find them.

Part of me thinks I should start at the lake, because once, over too many glasses of wine, Haven confided to me that there's a kelpie living in Lake Eerie. But she wouldn't say any more than that, and I'm not exactly sure how to search an entire lake, or if she was just teasing me.

But that's okay, because I think I have a better idea. On one of the far edges of the Bishop homestead are a bunch of caves that lead under the mountains surrounding Haven's Hollow. I'm going to start there, because if you were a monster in the area, wouldn't you stake your claim on a nice, cozy cave?

The town's entire backbone rests on the idea of the supernatural and monsters. We happily claim that they're here, we celebrate them with parades, and we decorate in their images. We have signs, statues, and souvenirs, all monster-themed. But no one takes any of it seriously. It's just a way to make our town stand out, and people who love the spooky come here on vacation. Win-win.

But if I can prove monsters actually exist? Hoo-boy. Think how famous our town would be then.

And the timing is just right. I've been heavily interested in making jewelry lately, and it turns out I'm pretty good at it. Unlike most of my other hobbies, I could see this one actually going somewhere. I've got some better tools and supplies on order, but until they come in, I'm at a loose ends. And not only am I currently between projects, but I'm dodging my himbo ex-boyfriend Brock. A Liam Hemsworth-lookalike with the IQ of a banana, I used to think the dude was harmless.

Cute, dumb, but okay in bed and decent fun for a night out. A little on the possessive side for my taste, but I could overlook it. Then he got furious over the most trivial thing—my insistence on calling him Broccoli, which I thought was a cute nickname—popped me one good and gave me a black eye, all while screeching about what a dumb bitch I was.

It was both eye-opening (in the figurative sense) and eye-closing (in the literal, swelling shut sense). Needless to say, I left without a backward glance and told him to lose my number. Instead, though, he's been texting apologies to me ever since, swearing that he didn't mean to, that he'd had too much beer, that he's so very sorry, etc. The texts have amped up recently, and the other night I swear I saw his car go by on one of the security cams.

I considered blocking his number, but that seemed unwise. As annoying as he is, I feel better knowing when he's trying to contact me. It's better than him surprising me.

Anyway, I'm not thrilled by his persistence, to say the least. Disappearing into some caves that lack cell service will grant me a much-needed reprieve until I figure out what to do about the jackass.

Which brings me to my current plan. On the table in front of me, I have an empty pack and the essentials I've assembled: water, snacks, my camera, a hunting knife, some rope, a high-powered flashlight with extra batteries, and a few other odds and ends. I'm hoping this excursion won't take more than a day or two; any longer than that, and I'll have to come back and resupply. But I don't have a bigger pack, I'm not what anyone would call outdoorsy, and I don't want to weigh myself down too much, so this seems like the best option. I'll go into the caves, find my monsters, take some photos and video, and voila! We can put it on the town's website or something.

Okay, no, I haven't figured out what to do with the evidence of monsters once I have it, but that's fine. One thing at a time. First things first, I gotta go explore those caves. Preferably before Brock calls me again.

Even as I think it, my phone rings, but luckily, my dad's name pops up on the screen. Bram Bishop is retired now, but guess who was mayor before my brother took over? Like all the Bishops except me, civic duty is basically his middle name.

"Hey, Dad," I say, picking up.

"Hey, honey. How are you?"

I smile. I live a hundred yards away, but he calls out of respect for my privacy. "I'm fine. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm good. I actually have news. Remember Max Gutierrez?"

"Nope. I do not."

"Well, he used to be in charge of the Tourism Board. He retired a few years back, but his daughter Marisol runs it now, and it turns out they need someone to help them with PR! You'd be great at that, honey."

"Dad, I don't know the first thing about PR. I majored in Art History."

"Pshaw, that doesn't matter. I'll put in a good word for you. There's no way they wouldn't hire you. You're a Bishop."

Thanks for the reminder, Dad. As if I could ever forget. "Okay, well, I'll look online and see if I can find the posting, okay?"

I can hear Dad's smile. "That's my girl. You just let me know if you want me to call Max for you."

"Will do. I gotta go. Bye, Dad."

"Bye, Natalie."

I disconnect and shake my head. My dad is awesome and he wants the best for me, but the thought of doing PR for the Tourist Board makes me want to jump in the lake. I'm simply not cut out for civic duties.

I know he's just trying to help. I well aware of my long list of failed endeavors and hobbies. It's not even that I'm not good at them. I just get bored easily. So far, making jewelry is the only one that's stuck. I might even have a real career shot with it. I showed some of it to Sabine Merlot, who owns the metaphysical store in town, and she was interested in possibly carrying some of it. As soon as the supplies arrive, I'll get right on it.

Until then, though? The monsters are just waiting for me to find them.

I change into appropriate gear and then check myself in the mirror. I have on tech pants that are water resistant, a tank top with a windbreaker over it, and sturdy boots. A glance in my mirror confirms two things: I'm dressed appropriately for the journey and I look like the rest of my family, but with my mother's coloring. Where their hair is platinum, mine is gold. Their eyes are lapis, mine are aquamarine. My ears are more rounded at the tips than theirs, but still slightly pointed, hinting at an elf ancestor somewhere way back when.

With a sigh, I pull my hair back and tuck everything into the pack. With any luck, I'll find what I need and start fitting in with the rest of the Bishops any day now.

NATALIE

I'm focusing on my excitement about finding monsters so that I won't think about my fears: my fear of getting trapped in a creepy cave, my fear of encountering a bear or mountain lion, my fear of finding monsters only for them to be hostile or violent.

Am I behaving totally foolishly? Of course. It's not like I'm stupid. I'm armed with a hunting knife and a few defense moves. I don't know a lot about spelunking, and I've obviously never confronted a monster before. Should I have more preparation, or at least some backup? Of course.

But doing my research and planning things out has never been my style. I don't have the patience for it. I throw myself into things headlong and figure it out along the way, whether that's getting a spontaneous haircut or learning to sew or taking up soldering so I can make more complex jewelry designs. I'm impulsive by nature, and that will never change.

So here I am, standing next to one of the family's ATVs and staring into the mouth of a cave. There are several caves around here, and it wouldn't surprise me if they were all connected somewhere beneath the mountain. I'm starting with this one because it's the biggest, and no matter how brave a face I'm putting on, the idea of having to army crawl through some narrow little nook and potentially get stuck has me sweating.

I've never considered myself claustrophobic. Small spaces don't really bother me; I can handle closets and packed elevators. But for some reason, the idea of being stuck in a small space inside a cave just gives me the full-on heebie-jeebies. So it better not come to that.

The first cavern isn't so bad. It's pretty spacious and open, and a small bit of light filters in. It smells dank and musty, but there aren't any critters hanging around, so I consider that a plus. With a deep breath, I plunge into its depths, crossing my fingers that it doesn't dead end on me. I don't think it will. From what I understand, these caves are all intertwined and run deep into the mountains and underground. There are even tunnels that are sort of like lava tubes that run vertically through the cavern system.

I switch on my flashlight as the darkness grows, bringing with it a chill and a sense of dampness. I can hear dripping noises in the distance, which doesn't surprise me. There are waterfalls high up in the mountains, so it's no surprise that some trickles have made their way in here.

The cave narrows until I'm walking through a fairly slim corridor, but it's still tall enough for me to stand up straight. The smooth rock under my feet gradually changes, becoming looser and more pebble-like. I can hear distant squeaks echoing around, which suggests that there are bats nearby—or maybe rats—but that's fine. Bats and rodents don't bother me. Nor do snakes and other reptiles. It's only when we get to the insects and arachnids that I start to get twitchy.

On my next step, my boot sinks into mud and pulls up with a squishy, sucking sound. Yuck. I move more gingerly, picking my way across the suddenly sodden cave floor, when something completely unexpected happens.

I'm assuming the constant drip eroded the ground here, because it just… crumbles . One minute I'm standing there, trying to make my way through, and the next I'm on my ass, cruising down the inside of the mountain like I'm on a water slide. An uncomfortable water slide made of rocks and mud, to be clear. When I finally come crashing to a stop several minutes later, I'm breathless, bruised, and bedraggled.

And a lot deeper under the mountain.

I sit for a moment, panting, and shove my disheveled hair out of my eyes. Jesus. Apparently I just slid down one of those not-quite-lava-tubes, which means I'm now completely lost. I have no way of getting back up to where I was.

I glance around, trying to get my bearings, and that's when I realize I can see. Not only am I in a large cavern, but it's illuminated. And not with daylight, either. There's are torches mounted all along the walls here, presumably installed by the people who have quietly surrounded me.

Which might be good news, except gulp .

These aren't exactly people by most standards. I guess they're roughly human-shaped, but there's no mistaking that they're a different species. They're all tall and sort of turquoise, with horns and glowing eyes and muscles for days. Big, brawny, underground creatures who are all standing on two feet and staring at me, potentially horrified by or curious about my sudden appearance.

I don't know what they are, but one thing is clear. I did it.

I found monsters.

NATALIE

As I sit on my ass, stunned, I stare back at them. A small circle of these creatures have gathered around me, but they haven't made a sound or any move to touch me.

With a wince, I give myself a quick pat down, searching for injuries. There are plenty of scrapes and I'll for sure have bruises, but I don't think there's anything critical, by some miracle. I stand slowly, never taking my eyes off the gathering crowd, while brushing pebbles and dust off my clothes. I hold my palms up, signaling that I'm friendly.

"Hello," I say slowly. And then I remember my camera. "Shoot!" I swing my pack around to my front and rummage through it, checking the expensive equipment. Luckily, the case seems to have done its job. The lens is intact and I can't detect any damage.

When I glance back up, one of the creatures has approached slightly closer than the others. "Who are you?" he asks.

Whoa. "You speak English?" Talk about one for the win column.

He nods. "Of course. What's your name? Why are you here?"

"I'm Natalie Bishop," I say. "I've been looking for you." I'm still searching through the backpack, making sure everything is okay.

The…man?...in front of me looks startled. He's intriguing, with strong features and shining eyes. His long white hair cascades down his back, part of it twisted in braids. At a little over 5'6" and about 130 pounds, I'm not a particularly petite person. I'm fit and fairly strong, with decent muscle tone. But next to him, I'm like a tiny doll. He has at least a foot on me and more than a hundred pounds, all of it muscle. He's massive. And the sight of him sends an unexpected bolt of electricity right between my legs.

He may not be human, but good grief. He's smoking hot.

"You were looking for me?" he says, his voice deep and curious.

I chuckle and clear my throat, trying to shoo away my sudden lust for this stranger. "Well, no, not you specifically. What I mean is that I was in these caves looking for monsters. And I found you."

His brow furrows and I can tell he's offended. Crap. "Monsters? You think we're monsters?" His tone has turned hard.

"Sorry, no." I say. I slip the pack back around, so it's resting on my shoulders, and meet his gaze. "To be fair, I don't know what you are, other than not human. I'm using monster as a catch-all term for sapio-sentient humanoid-esque creatures. I'm on a mission to prove species like yours exist, which is why I'm here. I sought you out. Which does beg the question: What exactly are you?"

Okay, it's maybe not the smoothest introduction I've ever managed. Yes, I'm rambling at this handsome stranger who I've inadvertently angered. But after falling halfway down the mountain and landing in a pile of turquoise people with glowing eyes and horns, it's the best I can do. I glance around again, taking in more of the room. It seems to be some sort of fathering place, with seating carved into the rock walls.

The creature shakes his head, as if my babbling has confused him. "Please start from the beginning," he says. I start to speak, but he shakes his head again and holds up a hand to stop me. "No. Wait. I'll start. My name is Kill, and I am a goblin, as are all who reside here. Please explain, Natalie Bishop, how you found us and what your specific intentions are."

Huh. Goblins. Not at all what I expected him to say. Goblins make me think of tiny green gremlins with big ears and bulging eyes. Not these tall, muscular specimens. Then his name sinks in and I take a step back. "Your name is Kill?" That's…a tad grim.

His glowing yellow eyes glint, flaring even brighter for a second. "My name is technically Killian. Kill is a nickname, but a deserved one."

Welp, there's an implicit threat in that statement. I hold up my palms again, still trying to convey that I'm not dangerous. "I don't mean you any harm. Think of me as an explorer. I've just come to meet you and hopefully document your existence. I want to get to know you. That's all."

"Those are contradictory statements, Natalie Bishop." The rest of the goblins, who are circled loosely behind him, nod in agreement.

I frown. "You can just call me Natalie. No need to use my full name every time. And what's the contradiction?"

"We keep our existence private for a reason. If you've come to expose us, we would consider that harmful." None of the others have spoken yet, but an even bigger, brawnier goblin with a dark purple mohawk steps up and nods his head in agreement.

If Killian is handsome, this new guy is…well, scary. Not bad-looking, but terrifyingly large.

"Okay," I say, taking a breath. "Maybe we could start over? Sit down, do better introductions. I can tell you more about why I'm here and you can tell me…anything, really. I was certain monsters lived in the mountains, but to have it proved…" I trail off when he scowls.

"I told you. We are not monsters. We're goblins."

"Right, sorry. Force of habit. I'll try to stop doing that."

Killian—I refuse to think of him as Kill —gestures to a redheaded female goblin. "Brigid, please take Natalie to the dining hall. We'll deal with things there."

She nods.

"Wait, I have questions?—"

Killian cuts me off. "Go with Brigid. Someone will come and talk to you soon."

Brigid takes my arm and leads me away, but not before I see the expression on his face.

It's as grim as his nickname.