by Ann Denton
There’s a pixie fluttering near Clo. She’s got a shock of pink hair and at least six diamonds piercing her eyebrows. She smiles at Jackie, waiting for her turn to speak. Bleh. I don’t really want her either. Pixies aren’t my fave as a rule. Who else we got?
To my utter shock, I see Gor, the pawnshop goblin. Tabby’s walked over and is talking right to him, like they’re buddies. His grey elephant skin shakes as he speaks. His hooked nose might rival Raspberry’s wife’s. And his claws are the stuff of nightmares. Instinctively, I want to go drag Tabby away from him. But she’d probably hiss at me.
She shoves her glasses up her nose and laughs at something he says.
Could it be that the scary goblin is funny?
I’ve always thought the billboards with his face plastered all over them were a mistake. “A Pawn Shop You Can Trust.” That’s his motto. I always assumed he got hosed by some marketing company who put his face right next to those words. But was he being tongue-in-cheek? Should I like this guy?
Becca comes back in with an armful of water bottles and I stop pondering. I help her bring them to the stage. Clo wanders over with a couple minibar sized vodka bottles, waves her hand, and spells the vodka from one bottle into the other.
Raspberry grabs one and downs it. No ‘thank you,’ or nod of thanks or anything. Yeah. I named him well. That’s why I don’t bother to tell him that the water might make him tipsy.
“Everyone,” Jackie claps her hands. “It’s nearly time. Quick bathroom break to freshen up for the camera. Be back in five!” She claps her hands, like this is some pep rally. I wonder if she’s got pompoms in that makeup bag of hers. Possible.
Her little assistant hefts a huge tote over her shoulder as everyone trots off toward the bathroom. Giancarlo tosses an arm around Jackie and escorts her from the room. I wonder if they have a private “interview” scheduled. Gah. I hate cheaters.
“Back to stations.” Flowers hisses in my ear.
I roll my eyes but comply.
And five minutes later, once everyone’s back, I know why he wanted us by the doors.
They burst open.
The mayor’s security bats fly in. They take up position on the chandeliers. And then the mayor enters.
David Honeycutt strides in with the force and confidence of a tornado. At the DA’s office, people used to label his moods. “Watch out. He’s an F-5 today.” Even now, when he’s not angry, Honeycutt clears a path in front of him. Guess one of the advantages of being a minotaur is intimidation. Even Flowers looks cowed.
Jackie Hanna and her cameraman scurry off the stage and take up position a few rows down.
“Coming to you live from Town Hall, I’m Jackie Hanna. Mayor Honeycutt is about to announce the new City Councilor. The fifth seat has been open for seven months, since the passing of Lou Strip, beloved zebra-shifter. Joining the Council is a lifetime position. We covered the story when the last two potential appointees were murdered and disqualified for corruption. You can find those stories online. In light of those issues, the mayor is exercising his right to appoint the new Council member. Whomever the mayor selects will have a major influence on the laws of Tres Lunas for decades to come. The mayor’s ascending the stage now.”
The mayor paws the ground and snorts before he takes the stage and stands at the podium. (I’m slightly fascinated because they always cut that part out on TV broadcasts. I wonder why? Does he want to appear more human on TV?)
After the required ‘I’m about to make a speech so shut the hell up’ throat clearing, Honeycutt smiles. “Today, I’m proud to announce that our City Council will be joined by an esteemed member of Tres Lunas. Our City Council has always been a balance of opinions in order to represent the needs of our diverse citizens. That’s why I’m so proud to announce today’s appointee.”
Onstage, the pixie works to keep a smile on her face. If the mayor’s talking about balance, he’s picked a dark heart. With only five seats and a white witch and fairy on board, the Council has two sweethearts. Technically, Max the Cat is considered a neutral party. So, another dark heart makes sense. Bummer for her.
Mayor Honeycutt continues his address, “He’s spent over twenty years building his own business, been a solid family man.”
Does Gor have a family? I eye the goblin. He sees me and gives a little sharp-toothed grin. One that makes me wish I had covers. And a nightlight.
Quickly, I turn to Raspberry. He’s sweating again. This time the sweat is rolling off him in buckets. Sheets. Like his own personal rainstorm. Ew.
Honeycutt does that annoying dramatic pause thing. Where the only people interested are the candidates. “Please give a big round of applause for—”
Before he can announce the winner, Raspberry falls forward, flat on his face.
Chapter 5
Raspberry’s wife shrieks and rushes toward him. “Bernard!”
Most of the rest of us stand around uncertainly, me included.
Not Becca. She rushes up the aisle, jumps onstage, and shoves her fingers onto the guy’s neck.
His wife tries to push her away, but Becca snaps. “Do you want me to check his pulse or not?”
I share a grin with Seena. Looks like little Becca has some claws.
Then I push on my ear piece to activate the mic. “Boss. Anything you want us to do?”
Flowers takes a minute to respond. “I called the paramedics. So just stand by.”
Becca declares Bernard will live. Apparently, he’s just fainted.
I put another tic in the “winner” column for him.
Seena and I wander toward the stage, since Flowers is on his phone. We want a glimpse of the fainter close up.
“Bet it was Jackie’s boobs. Probably the most action he’s seen in years,” Seena whispers as we approach the stage.
I snicker.
Almost everyone onstage sat back down after Becca’s declaration.
But not Jackie, who’s leaning into the camera and doing a low volume play-by-play for the five retired people watching this at home.
And not the wife. Bernard’s wife is absolutely ridiculous. She’s waggling her arms and raising Cain. “Where are the paramedics? Is there a shifter-doctor here? Oh, I knew this pressure would be too much for him.”
Mrs. Snow and Tabby come up beside me.
“Well, sugar, this has turned into quite the exciting event!” Mrs. Snow giggles.
Tabby shrugs. “Woulda’ been cooler if he died.”
Sarah slaps her shoulder. “Don’t say that!”
“Where’s Luke?” I turn to look for him.
“Oh, he had to leave honey. Said he had to get to work.”
I nod. Guess wheels don’t roll themselves.
A couple of medics come through a side door. That was quick. Hmm. There are perks to fainting on camera in town hall.
They rush over to Bernard, who’s starting to sit up, bleary-eyed.
Jackie and her cameraman crowd the paramedics, so they can get everyone into the shot. I roll my eyes. Part of me wants to push Jackie and her Channel 13 goon away. But nobody else says boo. So I guess this is the downside of fainting in front of the mayor.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” A paramedic asks Raspberry.
“Three.”
“What’s your name?”
“Bernard Bell.”
“What species are you?”
“I’m a were-booby.”
A snort escapes. I can’t help it. I quickly turn around. Beside me, Seena does the same.
“He said booby on TV,” I crow as we speed walk away from the stage.
“Were-booby? What the hell is a were-booby?” Seena asks. “Does he transform into a giant breast?”
Becca joins us. “If he does, I hope he opened a topless joint. That would be awesome.”
Flowers comes over to our snickering cluster. He does not look happy. “What are you doing?”
Between chuckles I remind him. “Were-booby? Did you not just hear that?” My ribs will h
urt from holding in the laughter. So much laughter. So inappropriate. I wish more people were here. I wish for a crowd to hide in. So I could just bust out.
“You imbeciles,” Flowers’ tone is scathing. “A booby is a type of sea-bird.”
He thinks it helps. But I just snort again. “You said booby, too.” I am at that point of exhaustion where things that should just be meh-funny are frickin’ hilarious.
“Look, they’ve got their hands all over the booby. On camera.” Seena points at the medics. At this point, he’s giving off tiny hiccups with his laughs.
“Get into the hall and calm down,” Flowers lectures. “You have sixty seconds to get yourselves together. This is completely unprofessional.”
I pinch my lips together and hurry toward the double doors.
I smack into Giancarlo’s assistant as I do so.
He’s too busy yapping into the phone to look at me. “Yes. He’ll be late to the hunt. Some bozo here had a medical emergency. No. Fainted. Yeah, I know. Everything’s packed—”
“Sorry,” I rub my shoulder.
The guy just rolls his eyes at me and keeps walking. Geez. Dude. It’s called an accident.
The hit sobers me up a little, but Seena’s still having problems. He sinks onto the floor in the hall, holding his sides.
“Okay, okay, it’s funny. Come on, we gotta get back in there,” Becca urges.
Seena can’t focus.
Becca stomps her little foot. “Seena! Come on! You don’t want to be on Flower’s list tomorrow, do you?”
He’s out of control. I don’t really know what to do to stop him. Because watching him just makes me want to laugh all over again.
“Hey!” Becca snaps in his face. “Would you want everyone laughing at your were-animal?”
That shuts him up. Seena turns a threatening glare on Becca.
I look back and forth between the two, fascinated. I think back to our magic sessions at the gym. I’ve never seen Seena shift. He’s pretty good with spell work. Says it’s like coding. So he’s always worked on that. I never really thought about it before. But why hasn’t he shifted? What does he turn into? And why does Becca know?
“I’m a stallion!” he hisses at her, so softly I have to strain to hear it.
“I’m pretty sure there’s a size requirement for that label,” Becca whispers back.
“Wait…” I put two and two together. I turn to Seena. “Are you a … pony?” I clap.
His nostrils flare. “I’m an Arabian horse.”
“Miniature,” Becca winks and pokes his rib. She turns to me. “He’s white and like three feet tall.”
My jaw drops. “OMG. This assignment is turning into the best thing ever! First, there’s a booby. And now I find out Seena’s a little pony.”
“I’ve been calling him MLP,” Becca winks at me.
“Stop,” Seena warns.
I hold up a hand. “We’ll stop. We have to go back to work. Or Flowers is gonna kick our behinds.” I turn to Becca. “You know we have to get him drunk and draw an ice cream cone on his butt at Halloween now, right?”
Becca’s eyes light up. “Totally.”
Grumpy Seena throws open the doors and stomps back in, ready to work.
I, on the other hand, have to focus very hard on containing my bliss. This assignment might be the highlight of my new job.
Of course, as soon as I think that, everything has to go to shit.
The mayor’s pulled Bernard aside and is trying to convince him to go home. Bernard the Booby is having none of it.
“I’m fine!” he roars, clearly forgetting that his loss of temper is on camera. Jackie and her guy are lapping it up.
“Look, there’s really no reason for you to stay when you’re clearly having a health issue.”
“I—what? You picked him?” He waves an incredulous arm at Gor the Goblin, who looks as smug as anyone with that awful a mug can look. “How much did he pay you, huh? Or was it the Crypts? They funding him, too? Just like your little vacation to Maui—” His bald, chubby face is turning red with rage. Like a raspberry. (Damn I’m good with names.)
I see Tabby stand up nearby. She marches over to Bernard and grabs his ear. “You big whiner. I don’t wanna hear another chirp outta you! He’s doing an exec’s job managing a city of hundreds of thousands of people. Of course, he’s gonna take bribes, you idiot! His salary’s jack! But does he do a good job? Does he? How low’s the troll murder rate gotten, huh?” She yanks him by the ear.
Bernard rears back to hit Tabby and she shifts. In public. On camera! One second, she looks like a sweet old lady. Then the magic is swirling around her, clothes are shredded on the floor, and an orange cat with a notch in one ear is perched on Bernard’s shoulders.
He reacts as any seabird would. With utter panic.
He screams, flapping his arms, and running straight into the rows of unused plastic chairs in the audience. His wife screams and chases after them, using her purse to swat at Tabby. The mayor’s security bats hear the frantic noise and start swooping down around the group.
I hear Seena’s voice in my ear. “Uh, boss? Should we …”
I do not want to have to arrest Tabby.
“It’s technically assault, but she’s in a form that’s a tenth of his size, “ Flowers replies. “D.A. won’t file it. And she shifted in self-defense, so … what I really hope is the news has a five-second delay so they can cut that part out.”
Becca’s voice is next. “What about his wife?”
Flowers exhales loudly. I see him take a step toward the chaos. “Hey!” he yells. But that’s as far as he gets.
The wife’s purse is about to brain Tabby when she jumps off Bernard. The purse whacks him instead.
Man, Tabby’s got good reflexes. She lands on her feet and trots off like that brawl was nothing, remaining in her cat form. (Thank goodness.) She perches next to Sarah Snow and starts to bathe, all collected cat confidence. I glance around the room. Almost everyone is exchanging incredulous looks. Max the Cat’s eyes are glued on Tabby. Uh-oh. Ew. I do not want to think about his reaction to that little display.
And by little display, I mean fight.
Bernard Bell definitely got the worse end of the deal. His suit’s torn up and he’s got a welt on his forehead—not sure if it’s from his wife’s purse or the fall he took earlier. Either way, he looks awful. He pushes away his fussing wife with her handkerchiefs and straightens his suit. He stomps back onto the stage and stands next to the other potential appointees. His chest is heaving.
“What is he doing?” Becca whispers to me.
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t realize this is being aired live.”
She rolls her eyes.
“He thinks he can stand there and they’ll just re-tape the announcement?” Seena’s incredulous.
“Guess so.”
I check my phone. Scenes of the fight are already popping up on Instaghoul.
Jackie and her cameraman return to their places in the aisle.
“The desire for that City Council spot has tempers flaring! One of the potential appointees has even accused our own mayor of corruption! Politics at its worst, or best. You decide. We still await the official announcement of the next City Councilor, a position that lends great legislative power to the holder.”
The mayor glares daggers at Bernard for the accusations, and then at Jackie for repeating them. But he maintains his cool. He sends his security bats flying off to a side room to cool down. They’re just trying to land on everyone’s hair in here.
Then Honeycutt returns to the podium. He skips all pretense this time and states, “I’m proud to announce that Gor the Goblin will be joining the City Council—” he puts an arm out to welcome Gor to come shake his hand.
Jackie swings her arm toward Gor like a model showcasing a new crystal ball on some game show.
Gor takes a step forward.
Bernard grabs Gor by the shoulder, spinning the man and fiercely shaking his ha
nd. I think he might be trying to crush it.
“Congra—,” he’s having trouble pretending to be a good sport. I roll my eyes. In the millisecond that takes, half the room goes nuts.
Suddenly, the mayor’s hands are over his ears and he’s hunched over. Max the Cat is hissing, Tabby’s back is arched, hair standing on end. The bats are back, swooping. Seena’s snorting and running toward a side door. Flowers is crouched ready to pounce, scanning the crowd. In other words—WTF? Half the people in the room have just gone crazy. There’s chaos.
Becca and I exchange confused looks. I shoot her a “What the hell?” eyebrow raise. She responds with a shrug and jogs over to check on Seena, who’s pawing at a door handle like he forgot how to open it. His animal fear has totally won out. Looks like he’s running on horse instinct.
The mayor’s snorting.
Flowers is the first to come out of his crouch and resume standing.
I touch my mic. “What’s going on?” I hope Flowers has some answers. Because I’m lost as to what caused this moment of panic. What would make all the shifters and animals go nutso?
Before Flowers can answer me, a gargled sound catches everyone’s attention. All eyes turn toward Bernard.
The Booby is still standing on stage. His eyes are wide. And it looks like he’s struggling to breathe. He falls face-first onto the stage. Again.
A chorus of groans arise.
Flowers left his mic on and we can hear his sigh. “Dammit. I don’t know what that was. You didn’t hear it?”
“Nope,” I reply.
“Maybe a mic went bad. Horrible noise.” He pulls out his phone. “I’m calling the medics for Bell. They probably just got out of downtown.”
Bell’s wife, of course, goes into hysterics again. With the amount of fainting her husband does, you think she’d be used to it.
She flaps her hands and bends over him. “Bernard!”
Gor suddenly jumps back from where he stands next to them.
“He pissed himself.”
Becca sprints up the aisle, or what’s left of it, considering all the chairs Bernard knocked over.
She pulls out her phone, turns on the flashlight. She flips Bernard over and shines the light in his eyes.