by Anne Bishop
Tess tipped her head. “Even now?”
“Even now. And Meg isn’t strong enough to hold her ground.” But she had been strong enough to run from something—or someone—and had enough spine to ask him for a job.
“You’ve turned Asia into forbidden fruit,” Tess said.
“What?”
“You’ve read enough human stories to know the lure of forbidden fruit.”
Yes, he had. And if Meg smelled like prey the way she was supposed to, he wouldn’t have responded in a way that was closer to protecting one of his own. Oh, he still would have forced Asia to back down, but he would have done it the same way he dealt with a customer in the store who wanted access to places that were private.
So it was Meg’s fault that he hadn’t behaved correctly.
“Simon?”
He heard the warning note in Tess’s voice. “I won’t forbid Asia from visiting with Meg, as long as she stays on her side of the counter.”
“And I’ll talk to my employees about helping me befriend the Liaison,” Tess said.
“And keep a sharper eye on Asia?”
“That too.”
Her hair was still red, but the black threads were gone and the coils were relaxing.
Since it wouldn’t be viewed as a retreat now, Simon took a step back and looked around. “I don’t feel like opening up again.”
“No one will come in today anyway,” Tess said. “But tomorrow the fear will have faded just enough.” She smiled. “I heard John mention you received a shipment of terror books.”
“Horror books.” Now he smiled. “Including a couple of boxes of terra indigene authors I don’t usually put out for human customers.”
“Maybe you should make a display of them and put them on sale tomorrow. I expect we’ll be busy.”
“We could have tripled sales if we’d eaten one of the customers before they’d all gotten out.”
Tess laughed. “Maybe we can do that next time.”
Simon sighed. “I need a day out of this skin.”
“And I need a few hours of solitude. See you tomorrow, Wolfgard.”
“Tomorrow.” He tipped his head toward A Little Bite. “What about your shop?”
“Julia and Merri Lee will clean up and close up. I’ll tell them to take something over to Meg before they leave.”
Choosing to be satisfied with that, Simon pulled out his keys and secured the dead bolt on HGR’s street door. He checked the office, and stopped long enough to call Vlad and tell him the store was closed and also mention doing a display of horror books by terra indigene authors. Then he turned off lights as he went through the building, put on his winter coat when he reached the stockroom, and left, locking the back door.
He didn’t want to be in this skin. He wanted to wear the body of a Wolf. But he had to stay in human form until he got Daphne’s son, Sam, outside for a few minutes of fresh air—which was all the pup could tolerate since the night Daphne was shot. Once he got the youngster settled inside again, he could shift and run alone for a few hours.
So he set off for the Green Complex, hoping a walk on a cold day would frost some of his anger and frustration—and wishing again that he could find something that would break the fear that kept Sam locked in a single form.
* * *
Meg had her coat on and the bowl of carrot chunks on the sorting table with the mail when the ponies neighed. She opened the sorting room’s outer door and smiled at their grumpy faces.
“Good morning,” she said, hoping they couldn’t recognize forced cheer. “I brought a treat for all of us, since we’re all working hard to get the mail to everyone in the Courtyard. So let me get the baskets filled, and then I’ll show you what I brought.”
Maybe they aren’t grumpy, Meg thought as she filled the slots in Thunder’s baskets. Maybe that’s just what pony faces look like.
When Thunder moved away, she wanted to remind him she had a treat for all of them, and felt disappointed that he was leaving without giving her a chance to make friends. But he simply circled around until he was behind Fog and would be first in line again.
She brought the bowl with her when she picked up the last stack of mail for the Green Complex—Fog’s destination today.
Apparently, ponies did have more than one expression. When she offered two carrot chunks to Thunder, he took the first warily and the second eagerly. Bobbing his head, he trotted off while the others jostled one another to reach the bowl.
“Wait your turn,” Meg said. “I brought plenty for all of us.”
They settled down and waited for their treats, looking as interested in her as they were in the carrots. When Fog trotted off, Meg closed the door and felt that something had finally gone right that day. Setting the bowl on the table so that she could munch on the rest of the carrots while she worked, she went into the bathroom to wash carrot flecks and pony spit off her hands—and put a clean bandage on her finger.
* * *
As Kowalski drove down Crowfield Avenue, Monty noticed the Closed sign on Howling Good Reads’ door and said, “Pull over.” He studied the sign, then looked at the Closed sign at A Little Bite. “Is it usual for them to be closed when most other places are open?”
“No, it’s not,” Kowalski replied. “The Others can be whimsical about business hours, and sometimes the stores are closed to humans so that the terra indigene can shop without being around us. But when that happens, there is usually a Residents Only sign tacked on the door, the lights will be on, and you’ll see people in the stores.”
“So whatever caused this can’t be good.”
“No, sir, it can’t be good.”
Monty opened his door. “I see some movement in A Little Bite. Wait here.”
Getting out of the car, he went up to the door and knocked loudly enough to ensure that the two women in the shop wouldn’t ignore him.
The dark-haired one hurried to the door and pointed to the sign. He responded by holding up his ID.
She flipped the lock, pulled the door open, and said, “We’re closed.”
“Is there something I can do to help?” Monty asked, his voice quiet and courteous.
She shook her head and started to close the door when the other woman called out, “Let him in, Merri Lee. He can take some of this coffee and food. He is police. Tess said we should be polite to him.”
Merri Lee pulled the door open enough for him to slip inside, then locked it again.
“Sorry,” she said, keeping her voice low. “There was an . . . upset . . . earlier, and it’s better for humans not to be around here today.”
“What about you?” he asked.
“Julia is a Hawkgard, so I’m okay.” She raised her voice to a normal volume and addressed the woman pouring coffee into two large travel mugs. “I’m supposed to bring some of the food to Meg.”
“Already have everything set aside for her,” Julia replied. “For you too. And me. You have a carry sack?”
It took Monty a moment to realize the question was aimed at him. “No, ma’am, I don’t.”
“We usually sell them, but you are the police, so I’ll give you one,” Julia said.
The heavy fabric sack had two sleeves with stiff bottoms that were sized for the insulated travel mugs, plus a zippered compartment that could hold sandwiches or containers of food. There was even a section to hold cutlery.
He watched her fill up the sack with sandwiches and pastries. It looked like they were cleaning out anything that was intended for sale that day and wouldn’t be held over for tomorrow.
“What happened here?” he asked.
“Jenni said Simon upset the Meg and made her cry,” Julia replied. “Then that Asia came into Howling Good Reads and yelled at Simon, and then Tess and Simon yelled at each other over what happened with the Meg. T
hat’s when they closed the stores. It’s not safe when Simon and Tess yell at each other.”
“Is Ms. Corbyn all right?”
Merri Lee nodded. “Just upset.” She watched Julia zip up the sack and added, “You should go now.”
Concern mixed with a warning. Whatever had happened today had happened before. The humans—and the Others—knew how to ride it out.
And hoped they lived through it?
Nothing he could do, so he accepted the carry sack and food with warm thanks, and slipped one of his cards to Merri Lee when she let him out of the shop.
“Lieutenant?” Kowalski asked when Monty got in the car.
“Pull into their parking lot. I’d like a few minutes to think while we have something to eat.”
Once Kowalski parked the car, Monty handed out coffee and food.
Merri Lee, being human, might not say anything about him being in the shop, but Julia Hawkgard would report his presence to somebody. So he couldn’t stop by and talk to Meg Corbyn and reassure himself that she was just upset, but there were other ways of checking on things that weren’t officially his concern.
Telling himself to be satisfied with that, he enjoyed the unexpected meal.
* * *
Someone knocked loudly on the office’s back door, then knocked again before Meg could reach it.
“Hi,” the woman said when Meg opened the door. “I’m Merri Lee. Can I come in far enough so you don’t lose all the heat?”
Still feeling raw about Simon’s reaction to Asia—and feeling a touch defiant because this woman was holding up a pass that said she was allowed to be in this part of the Courtyard—Meg stepped aside.
“I brought your midday meal,” Merri Lee said as she came in. “Things are churned up today, so . . . Wow.” Her eyes widened as she looked around. “Is the other room any cleaner?”
“A little. Not much.” Meg looked around too. “It is pretty dirty, isn’t it?” She thought it was, but she hadn’t been sure other humans would see it that way.
“Here.” Merri Lee handed her the carry sack. “Look. No one but the Liaison and the terra indigene are supposed to be in this office, but I wouldn’t want to work here until it’s clean.”
“There’s a lot of mail that needs to be sorted,” Meg said.
“And you have to do that,” Merri Lee agreed. “But A Little Bite is closed today, so I could put in my work hours by helping you clean this room at least.”
“If you’re not allowed to be here, you’ll get in trouble.” There was a natural warmth to Merri Lee’s friendliness, so Meg didn’t want her to get hurt.
“Not if I get permission from a member of the Business Association.” Merri Lee looked nervous. “Can’t ask Simon or Tess, and I’d rather not ask Vlad or Nyx.” Her face cleared. “But if Henry is working in his studio, I can ask him. Are there any cleaning supplies here?”
“Not that I found.”
“Not even for the toilet?”
Meg shook her head.
“Oh, gods. Well, I’ll pick up some supplies after I talk to Henry.” She glanced at Meg’s hands. “What did you do to your finger?”
“I was cutting up carrots for the ponies,” Meg replied. “Got a little careless. It’s not a deep slice.”
Merri Lee nodded. “I’ll get some cleaning gloves to protect your hands. The cleansers will sting if they get in that cut.” She held out another carry sack. “That’s my food. Could you stash it someplace until I get back?” Giving Meg a smile and wave, she darted out.
Meg put the carry sacks on the sorting table. It felt uncomfortable to lie to someone who was being kind. She hadn’t known a lie could have a physical weight. But she wasn’t going to tell anyone the truth about the cutting and the prophecies until she had no other choice.
Having decided that much, she unzipped the compartment that held her food. Before she could remove a sandwich, something small and brown ran across the floor and darted into the pile of packages that still needed sorting.
When Merri Lee returned a few minutes later with Henry Beargard and two females, Meg was kneeling on top of the sorting table, staring at that corner of the room.
Merri Lee stopped in the doorway and looked ready to run. Henry and the females stepped into the sorting room.
Meg pointed a shaking finger. “Something is hiding in that corner.”
Henry moved silently to that corner and sniffed. “Mouse.”
“Oh, gods,” Merri Lee said.
“They’re easier to catch if you leave food in the middle of the floor,” the brown-haired woman said.
“Why would you do that?” Meg asked.
“Fresh snack,” the black-haired woman replied brightly.
Merri Lee said, “Oh, gods” again before clamping a hand over her mouth. Meg just stared.
Henry studied Merri Lee, then Meg. “Humans don’t like mice?”
“Not in the building!” Meg said.
“And not around food,” Merri Lee added.
The three terra indigene looked baffled.
“But it’s fresh meat,” the brown-haired woman finally said.
“Humans don’t eat mice,” Merri Lee said. “Or rats. We just don’t.”
Silence.
Finally, Henry sighed—a big, gusty sound. “We will put aside other work today and make this place human-clean for the Liaison.” He pointed at Merri Lee. “You will show us how this is done.”
“I’ll go to the Market Square and pick up the supplies we’ll need to put some shine on these rooms,” Merri Lee said.
The black-haired woman cawed. “You can make things shiny?”
“In a way.”
So the Crow went with Merri Lee while Henry began excavating the mailbags and boxes piled in the corner of the sorting room.
The brown-haired woman was an Owl named Allison. She was quite pleased to catch two mice—and less pleased when Henry made her go outside to eat them.
When five people cleaned three rooms—and one of them was a man as strong as a bear—the work went quickly, even with Allison taking two more breaks to devour mouse snacks. Some of the packages in that corner had been nibbled; others were smashed. Meg noticed how many of them were addressed to people living in the Chambers, which made her wonder who the Sanguinati were that the previous Liaisons wouldn’t deliver packages to them.
On the other hand, Jester had said the previous Liaisons hadn’t been encouraged to make deliveries to anyone in the Courtyard. But something should have been done to get the packages to the people waiting for them.
She had made excuses for not eating while they were working—especially when there was still the possibility of finding another mouse. Since Merri Lee was also making excuses, despite a growling stomach, the Others accepted the strange behavior.
Finally, all the old packages were neatly stacked on one of the hand carts; the counters, tables, cupboards, and floors were washed; the wave-cooker and fridge were clean; and the bathroom didn’t make her shudder when she used the toilet. Allison went back to the Owlgard Complex to report this peculiar aversion humans had to mice. Crystal Crowgard ran off to Sparkles and Junk with rags and the spray bottle of cleaner that would make all their display counters shiny.
Henry pointed at Meg. “The rooms are clean. Now you will eat.” He pointed at Merri Lee. “You may sit with her in the back room and visit.”
Meg looked at the clock on the sorting-room wall. “It’s almost two o’clock. I need to take deliveries.”
“You will eat,” Henry said. “I will watch the counter until you are done.”
Meg went to the back room and frowned at the small round table and two chairs. “Those weren’t here this morning.”
“No, they weren’t,” Merri Lee replied, pulling food out of the
fridge. “But I mentioned to Henry that it would nicer if you had a place to eat when you didn’t want to go out during your break, and he got these from somewhere.” She looked around the room and nodded. “This is much better.”
“Definitely better,” Meg agreed. “Thank you.”
They didn’t talk much. Maybe they were both too hungry to focus on anything but food. Maybe they had learned enough about each other for the moment. Whatever the reason, Merri Lee left as soon as she had enough to eat.
Meg stored the rest of the food, then went out to the front room in time to greet the two deliverymen who had taken one look at Henry and were backing away.
When the men gave her the packages and drove off, Henry nodded as if he was pleased about something.
“I don’t answer the telephone when I’m working with the wood,” he said. “But if you need me, you tell the Crows and I’ll come.”
“Thank you for all the help today,” Meg said.
He left, saying nothing more.
Meg went back to sorting mail for the remaining time in her workday, but she kept glancing at those old packages. She would do something about them tomorrow.
She was about to close up for the day when a patrol car pulled into the delivery area.
He found me, she thought, her heart jumping. The Controller has found me. That’s why the police are here.
She hadn’t seen these men before, but they seemed to know something about the Others because they both got out, removed their hats, and looked straight at the Crows before entering the office.
“Ma’am,” one of them said when they reached the counter. “I’m Officer Michael Debany. This is my partner, Lawrence MacDonald. We work with Lieutenant Montgomery and just wanted to introduce ourselves and let you know we’re available if you need any assistance.”
As they chatted and Officer Debany mentioned again that they would provide help if it was needed, Meg realized the men were fishing for information about what happened this morning to close Howling Good Reads and A Little Bite, but mostly they were trying to find out if she had been hurt but was afraid to leave.