Page 11 of Horn in My Side

“Once they imprint on an owner, they make excellent house guardians, and are very good with young children. They’re one of our bestsellers.” Bending down, she peered into the glass to check on the makara. “Don’t worry,” she cooed. “That big guy didn’t mean to scare you.”

He blew out a breath. “ He’s scared?”

“She,” she corrected. “Can you give me half a cup, please?”

“Fine. Here you go.”

Being an amphibious creature, the makara’s tank consisted of a floating island surrounded by water. Jasmine poured the contents of the cup Mal handed to her into a chute above the tank, letting the pellets pile on top of the sandy beach area.

“He made that, didn’t he? Vrig, I mean.”

“Yes.” Her gaze remained fixed on the creature as she carefully approached the pile of food.

After a few sniffs, she began to chomp down heartily.

“I suggested we start stocking makaras since they’re in demand.

So he designed and crafted this tank. They come to us as eggs and we take care of them until they’re about eight weeks old.

At around ten weeks they start imprinting with their surroundings and their handlers permanently. ”

To her surprise, Mal had bent down next to her. “How old is this one?”

“We’ve had her about seven weeks, so her owner will be stopping by in a couple of days to pick her up.

” Her focus changed from the makara to Mal’s reflection against the glass, his indigo eyes tracking the creature as it dove into the water after finishing its meal.

With his face relaxed and the scowl gone, he looked even more striking.

She glanced down at his lips, even the pointy little tusks protruding from between them, wondering if they hurt when he kissed someone.

A hot flush crept up her cheeks, and Jasmine quickly stood up. “Er, let’s keep going, shall we?”

They continued down the next rows of aquatic creatures, with Jasmine explaining to Mal every creature’s dietary needs. He didn’t say much, just small grunts and “hmms” here and there, but for some reason, she couldn’t help but feel he was judging her.

After an hour, they’d finished the entire floor and she hung the last clipboard back onto its hook.

“All done,” she declared. “See, with my system everyone gets what they need, when they need it.”

“What about you? When do you get what you need?”

She spun around to face him. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, you need rest. You don’t work every day, do you?”

“Of course not—we’re closed on Tuesdays.”

“Who takes care of the pets?”

“We work with a gnome temp agency that comes in and makes sure all the creatures are fed and the pens are cleaned.” Gnomes were trustworthy, after all, and known for their love of animals.

“Ah, that’s smart.”

“And efficient,” she emphasized, using his own words. “Once Vrig installed their magic door, they just come in when we need them and take care of everything.”

He tapped a claw at his chin. “Hmmm.”

“What is it?”

“The filtration system on the tanks, how old are they?”

“Er, probably as old as the shop?” she answered sheepishly.

“What?” His eyes widened.

“I’ve been asking Vrig for about two years, but he always says the shop doesn’t have the budget to upgrade it. So I clean and change the filters out more often.”

Mal’s mouth pulled back into a line. “Vrig was not hurting for money. He owns this lot and paid off the mortgage on his house last year, plus he has no other debt.”

“I don’t know anything about the house,” she said. “But our expenses are quite high. Food alone is about sixty to seventy per cent of the costs.”

“And you want to own this place, when it’s barely making a profit?”

She opened her mouth, then quickly pressed her lips together. His tone sounded familiar—too familiar.

Why are your grades so low, Jasmine? You’ll never get into a good nursing program.

Jasmine, why didn’t you finish your degree?

You could be making so much more money as a nurse, Jasmine.

Her father, of course, had meant well. After all, he had given up his entire life in the Philippines, leaving behind everything and everyone he’d ever known, to give her a better future in the United States.

“Jasmine?”

She snapped out of her trance. “It’s not all about the money, you know.”

He let out an impatient snort. “Maybe I should check on those accounts.”

“Maybe you should.” She cocked her head toward the staircase. “Everything’s in the office back downstairs.”

“Fine.” Turning on his heel, he lumbered away from her.

Once his frame had disappeared down the staircase, Jasmine found she could breathe again and released her pent-up outrage with a quick exhale.

Mother Goddess help her.

Vrig might have pinched a few pennies here, but not to the detriment of the animals in his care. Would Mal be as miserly as a troll? She sure hoped not because she’d had a troll boss before, and it had been unbearable.

Six months, she told herself. He’ll be gone in six months.

Jasmine had no choice but to put up with him for now. Once she got her loan, he’d be gone and she’d own this place clear and easy, with no meddling orc to mess up her system, make “helpful” suggestions, or send her judgy looks.

Hopefully, she’d be able to make it through the next couple of months without taking a baseball bat to his head for a second time.