Page 10 of Horn in My Side

JASMINE

Jasmine peeked out of the window for the hundred and twenty-fifth time, waiting for any movement from the main house.

Nothing.

She’d been watching it like a hawk since she woke up at six that morning, vigilantly scanning for signs of life.

Maybe Mal was a late riser.

In any case, the coast was clear. She grabbed her purse and keys and hurried to the door, relieved that she would not be running into him. After what happened last night, she needed to spend as little time with him as possible.

A bat, really?

The memory of it made her cringe so hard she had to stop and brace herself against the doorjamb.

Once again, Mal had berated her for her foolishness, and while her automatic response was to take a defensive stance, he had been right as she could have gotten hurt if it had been a real robber inside the house.

Hopefully, this was not a sign of things to come for the next six months.

Still, for this morning at least, she wouldn’t have to see him.

Straightening her shoulders, she marched down the stairway leading out of the garage apartment, locked the door behind her, and made her way to Main Street.

Another beautiful day in Dewberry Falls.

The sun was out, the birds were chirping, the air was crisp and fresh, and she still had time before opening to grab a cup of coffee. As she entered Brew-tique, the comforting smell of coffee tickled her nose. Now that she was on a tight budget, she really should be making her coffee at home.

Just this one time.

And by buying a cup, she would also be supporting a small, woman-owned business, which Fantastic Tails would be soon.

As it was the morning rush, the line to order was long, but moved briskly, and so she was at the front in no time. “Hey, Minerva,” she greeted the owner who stood behind the counter.

“Morning, Jasmine.” Minerva Morrigan flashed her a bright smile. “Your usual?”

“Yes, please.”

“One flat white, coming right up.” The screen lit up with her order and Jasmine tapped her debit card on the terminal, adding in a generous tip. “Thanks.”

“How’s business?”

“Great. Busy, but all good.” The witch took a to-go cup from the stack next to her before snapping her fingers.

The paper cup floated to her left, toward the espresso machine, which blew a steady mist of steam as the lever moved on its own.

While it looked as if the shop was manned by an army of invisible employees, it was actually magic that powered the operation, from the oven that warmed all the pastries and hot breakfast sandwiches, to the tables that bussed themselves.

“You know where to grab it,” Minerva said.

“I do. Thanks so much.”

She slid down to the end of the counter where customers picked up their finished drinks.

There were a few people lingering waiting for their orders, most of them she recognized as employees of other shops on Main Street.

She nodded at them in greeting, thanking her ancestor spirits that it was much too early—and everyone still much too uncaffeinated—to be in the mood for a chat.

As she waited, something caught her eye on the bulletin board on the wall—a brightly colored flyer for the upcoming Founding Day Festival.

“Oh Mother Goddess.” She slapped her forehead. “I can’t believe it’s almost Founding Day.”

“I know, right?” said the mousey—as in, she had big mouse ears, a black button nose, and whiskers—young woman next to her. Jasmine recognized her as the high-school kid who worked at the frozen yogurt shop on weekends. “It’s in a couple of weeks.”

The Founding Day Festival was the main summer social event of the year for the residents of Dewberry Falls.

For one weekend, the entire Main Street was shut down to vehicle traffic.

There were games, rides, and various food trucks set up all over the street.

Businesses were also encouraged to set up booths outside their shops, and thus it was the biggest weekend for sales for many of them, including Fantastic Tails.

She made a mental note to start stocking up on their best-selling accessories and start planning their specials.

“Jasmine, medium flat white!” Gary, the only other employee who worked in Brew-tique, called.

“Thanks, Gary.” She picked up the cup he placed on the counter and headed out with a final wave to Minerva.

Hmmm. So good.

The coffee was hot, and the micro foam perfectly creamy. As she entered Fantastic Tails, she was in the middle of savoring another sip when she nearly choked on the brew.

“H-hello?” she sputtered at the unexpected sight of Mal, standing by the stairs leading to the second level.

Dressed in his usual flannel shirt, work pants, and boots, he carried a bag of aquatic pellet feed over one shoulder.

His shirt was rolled up to the elbows, showing off the sinewy muscles of his forearms.

A jolt of heat zapped straight to her belly. Oh Mother Goddess, how could one strip of bare green skin affect her? Now she understood the term “forearm porn.”

Turning his head toward her, he let out a grunt. “Morning.”

The indigo of his eyes startled her. Despite the early hour, they were alert and fixed on her. “W-what are you doing here?” She placed her things on the counter, turned the lights on and the music up, and then strode over to him.

“I thought you said you wanted me to help out around here.”

“Yes, but I didn’t think you would be here today.” The events of last night flooded her brain once more, but she resisted the urge to visibly cringe. “I mean, obviously you’re allowed to be here anytime you want.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Did he have to be so grumpy so early in the morning? “N-nothing at all, but”—she wrinkled her nose—“what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He motioned to the bag over his shoulder. “I’m feeding the animals. I ran out of the first bag so I grabbed this one from the shelf.” Without another word, he trudged up the steps, taking them two at a time.

“Which . . . ones?” she huffed as she chased after him. “And how much?”

“I just started over here.” He gestured to the front row of water tanks. “And I dunno, a cup each? I read the directions on the package.”

She pressed her lips together, then blew out a breath. “You should have waited for me. I have a system to keep track of everything.”

Side-stepping him, she marched over to the tanks, reaching for the clipboard hanging on the shelf. She pointed to the page on top. “Each tank and each type of creature has a specific time and amount they need to be fed, which also changes depending on how many of them are in the tank.”

“I didn’t see that.”

She bit at her lip as she read through the list. “Okay, it’s not too bad. The luscas got their breakfast a little too early and the kelpies should get another cup, but other than that everyone in this row should be fine with a cup each.” She nodded at the bag he held up. “Do you mind?”

Hefting it lower, he opened the top so she could scoop a cup and drop the food into the kelpie tanks. The hungry little fellows galloped toward the surface, sucking up the pellets as they drifted downwards. “There you go.”

Mal scratched at his mop of ink-black hair. “They make automatic feeders for tanks these days. With timers and everything.”

“I know. Vrig used them before, but I prefer to do it myself. My system works.”

“Doesn’t seem efficient. You have the information about how much each tank gets and when. Just program the feeders once and you won’t have to worry about doing it again.”

“It isn’t always about efficiency.” She hung the clipboard back on the hook, then proceeded further down to the next row of tanks.

“This way, I can perform a check on the animals and the individual aquariums first thing in the morning, in case any of them got sick overnight or if there’s something wrong with the tanks. ”

“But you have cameras all over the place and in the individual pens.”

“You’ve already checked the pens? What time did you get here?” She was pretty sure she had started checking the house for signs of him the moment she woke up.

“Around five a.m.?”

“You’ve been here since five in the morning?”

“I’m an early riser,” he stated.

“Right.” She took another clipboard hanging from the next row. “Now, the creatures in this section are all herbivores, so they’ll need a different type of feed. It’s that tub up there.”

“This one?” He plucked the white plastic container with a cartoonish depiction of a smiling seaweed-like mascot on the label from the high shelf behind him.

“Yup.”

When she held out her hand to take it, he shook his head. “I’ll do it.”

“I can manage it.” She’d been doing it on her own all these years, after all.

“Just tell me how much each one gets.”

“But—”

“This is still my shop, right?”

“Yes.” But he didn’t have to rub it in her face.

“It’ll be faster if I help you. Besides, what if you couldn’t come in and I had to do this by myself?”

Well, he had a point there. “All right, you can help with the feeding.”

Mal trudged to the nearest tank, which contained a four-legged creature with a bulbous head that had two horns protruding out its sides and tusks peeking from its mouth. A long, fish-like tail swished behind it as it approached the front of the aquarium.

“How many cups for this guy?”

“Don’t get too—!”

Before she could stop him, he tapped his foreclaw on the tank. The creature let out an angry grunt before ramming its head against the glass. The tank was shatterproof, but the poor thing was still upset.

Mal jumped back, nearly colliding with the shelf. “What in Vorlak’s name is that thing?”

“It’s a makara. Very territorial, especially at this age.”

“People actually want to buy that thing?” he asked in an incredulous tone.