Page 26 of Horn in My Side

“Look, it’s the orc!” someone stage-whispered behind them. “Do you think he’ll pose for a selfie?”

Jasmine winced. “Uhm, the pictures of the hatching tank and the carcinos egg have also gone viral.” She nodded to the middle of the room, where a stream of people snaked around the tank, waiting to get close to it. “I had to make everyone line up.”

“I said I wanted an alicanto!” the boy screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Miss, can you please help us? We’ve been waiting for so long,” the woman next to the boy—his mother presumably—said. “My husband and I want to go grab lunch.”

“Yes, ma’am, of course.”

“Finally,” the husband said with a cluck of his tongue. “These little shops are so inefficient. I told you, Gina, we should have gone to PetExpress.”

Jasmine’s shoulders sank. “I’m really sorry for the wait.”

“You should be.” He snapped his fingers at her. “Now where’s this bird my son’s been harping on about?”

Mal’s temper hit the roof. “Get out,” he said in a deadly tone, pointing to the door. “You’re not welcome here.”

“I b-beg your pardon?” the man sputtered. “Where’s the manager?”

“I’ll do you one better.” Folding his arms over his chest, he shot the man his most menacing look. “I’m the owner.”

“And this is how you treat your customers?”

“When they disrespect my employees, then yes. Now get out,” he growled.

The man harrumphed. “Fine. Gina, Ethan, let’s go. We’ll spend our money elsewhere.”

The couple dragged away the boy even as he screamed his displeasure. Mal watched them walk out to ensure they were truly gone. “Are you okay, Jasmine?”

“Yeah. Thanks for dealing with that.” Her lower lip trembled. “I hate rude customers; they just ruin my day.”

He tsked. “You can’t let them walk all over you.”

“I try to be as polite as I can, but it’s tough. Especially with the store’s policy about not selling to people who might not be good owners.”

“It’s a smart policy.” But it was also one of the main reasons the shop wasn’t doing too well, though he understood why Vrig enforced it, and Jasmine refused to change it even now that he was gone.

Her hands gestured around them. “The extra foot traffic has been great for the store overall; it’s also brought in the worst people. They just don’t seem to get the concept that these are living beings, not toys they can just play with when they feel like it and then put away.”

He snorted. “The customer isn’t always right. If any more give you trouble, send them to me.”

“Th-thanks, Mal.” The smile widened. “For having my back.”

“Of course.” He would always have her back, no matter what. “Actually, why don’t you go outside and man the table, and I’ll take care of things in here?”

“What? No, you don’t have to—”

He held up a hand. “I’m still the owner, aren’t I? Now, go.”

Mal didn’t much like crowds, but at least the one inside the shop wasn’t out of control.

The initial scene had been jarring as it was always so calm and serene on normal days, even during the busy weekends.

The foot traffic was good for business, but the animals had to be under a lot of stress.

So, he spent most of the afternoon directing the flood of people, asking them not to get too close to the animals or bang on their tanks or rattle their cages.

Much to his chagrin, he also ended up posing for numerous selfies.

It only got busier as the day wore on and he felt bad that Jasmine had to keep going back and forth inside to ring up customers, so he took over the register.

“Hey, are you the new owner of Fantastic Tails?” said a friendly masculine voice.

“Yeah?” Mal straightened up from where he crouched down behind the screen of the POS system.

The first thing he noticed about the man were the large horns curling out from the top of his head and the pointy ears emerging from a nest of long, dark reddish hair.

Since Mal was about a foot taller than him, a quick glance down at the thick fur and hooves of his lower half confirmed what he was—a satyr. “And you are?”

The satyr extended his hand over the counter. “Nick Amherst. You’re Vrig’s nephew, right?”

“Mal of the Urduk Horde.” He shook the man’s hand firmly before letting go. “Can I help you? Were you looking for a pet or . . .”

“No, no. I just wanted to come by and convey my condolences. Sorry it took me so long, though.”

“Thank you. But how did you know Vrig?”

“We were on the same squad of the Dewberry Falls Volunteer Fire Department,” Nick explained. “He was a great guy. Even went on a few calls over the last couple of years. Not that we get a lot of fires around here to respond to. Such a big loss to the community.”

“Yeah, he was a good person.” Strangely, while Mal hadn’t spent any significant amount of time with Vrig as an adult, being in Dewberry Falls, working around the shop, and living in his house had given him a sense of what Vrig must have been like. He regretted never reaching out to his uncle.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He paused for a beat. “Say, Mal, have you thought about joining the volunteer fire department?”

“Me?”

“Yes, definitely.” Nick gave the counter a healthy pound of his furry fist. “A big strong guy like you, you’d be perfect.”

“I’m afraid I’m not planning on staying in Dewberry Falls,” Mal explained. “Just until I get the shop, and the house sold. Couple of months maybe. Seems like a waste to train me when I won’t be around too long.”

The satyr waved away his objection with a flourish of his hand. “Not at all. And we could use every hand we can get even if it’s just for a couple of weeks. The training’s not that hard and some of the stuff you learn, like the CPR and basic fire-safety certification, can be useful in real life.”

“I’m already certified in both. I’m a contractor.”

“Great! You’ll be able to start sooner, then.”

“I’m not sure I have time—”

“Our squad trains every other Thursday night and the entire department does one Saturday a month at a nearby Fire College.”

“I’m quite busy—”

“The schedule is flexible, especially if you’re a business owner.

We really only get a few calls a week, mostly ‘little old ladies whose cats get stuck up a tree’ type of thing or accidents, which is why we don’t have a full-time fire department.

If we do get a big fire, Bayview and the other major cities around will send their trucks. ”

“Uh . . .”

“Listen, before you say no, why don’t you give it a think? Sleep on it?” He slid a card across the counter. “Here’s my number. Call me if you have any questions. You know, Vrig loved volunteering at the fire station. He said it kept him young.”

“I . . . Okay.” He picked up the card, if only to appease the insistent satyr.

“Great!”

“Hey, Mal—oh, Nick?” Jasmine exclaimed as she came up to them. “It’s been a while.” She opened her arms toward him.

“It’s my favorite pet-shop manager.” He bent down to accept her hug. While the embrace only lasted three seconds, it was enough for jealousy to once again rear up in Mal.

“Sorry I haven’t been by since the funeral. How are things here?”

“All good.” Her gaze flicked over to Mal. “Have you two met?”

“Yup, stopped in to introduce myself,” Nick said.

“I’m surprised to see you here, since you’re usually so busy with all the festival activities. Nick’s part of the Founding Families,” Jasmine explained. “Your float looked amazing during the parade, by the way. I loved the golden-vines theme.”

“Yeah, that’s my cousin Flora’s work. She’s super talented when it comes to art stuff, plus she’s still sore about losing to the MacGregors last year.” He glanced around, his long ears twitching. “Wow, it’s really busy in here, huh? Good for you.”

“Thanks.”

He checked his watch. “I need to get going. But, Mal, I’ll see you soon, eh?”

Jasmine’s nose wrinkled. “See you soon?”

He winked at Mal. “He’s going to join us at the fire station.”

“I haven’t—”

“Really? That’s awesome, Mal. Vrig loved being a volunteer firefighter. He always said it kept him young.”

Nick sent him a grin. “I should get going. See you at eight p.m. on Thursday at the fire station on Garland Avenue.”

“See you, Nick.” Jasmine waved at him as he ambled out the shop. “So, Nick convinced you to sign up for the volunteer fire department, eh?” she said with a wry smile.

“I . . . guess?” He slapped a palm on his forehead.

Jasmine chuckled. “Satyrs are known for their silver tongues, though I think Nick upgraded to the gold one. He could sell water to a kraken.”

Had she ever been convinced by Nick’s sweet talk? Not that it was any of his business if she had. The satyr was charming and handsome, and more important, he lived here. Him and Jasmine would make the perfect Dewberry Falls power couple.

He wondered if satyrs were fireproof.

“So how were things in here? Everything okay? You seemed pretty busy.”

“Yeah, but I handled it fine.”

“Thanks for calming down the animals.” Her fingers brushed away the stray locks of hair that stuck to her neck and chest. She looked gorgeous in her linen sundress and Mal groaned inwardly each time a beam of sunlight lit her up from behind, showing off the shadows of her curves.

Jasmine let out an unhappy huff. “All those people in here at the same time must have been frightening for them. I feel so stupid and selfish now, just thinking about business and forgetting their comfort.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Mal resisted the urge to reach out and console her. “It happens. You can’t please everyone all the time. You have to find a balance and give yourself grace if you make mistakes every once in a while. But you have to know, you’re doing a great job, Jasmine.”

Her face lifted up, brown eyes softening as their gazes locked, sending his hearts galloping. Her luscious lips parted as a short gasp escaped her mouth. Awareness sparked between them, ready to burn up the room.

“Uhm, I should go back outside,” she said, breaking the spell. “The crowds will be thinning soon. There’s a big concert in Town Square tonight so most people will head there early to secure a spot. You can head home if you want.”

“No, I can stay until you close up.”

“It’s fine, r-really. I’ll be okay.”

Clearly, the awkwardness between them had ramped up and she was giving him an escape from it. “I’m going to check on the hatching tank before I go,” he said. “Had to tell off some punk troll kid and his friends for trying to open it.”

Jasmine massaged the bridge of her nose. “Oh no. I forgot about the egg, too. I’ll just—”

“Excuse me, miss?” A white-haired woman tapped her on the shoulders. “Can you help me find the treats for luscas, please?”

Jasmine snapped to attention, going into customer-service mode instantly. “Yes, of course. Right this way.”

As she led the woman away, Mal strode over to the hatching tank.

He checked the glass to make sure there were no cracks and double-hexed the lock on the front opening so that anyone aside from him and Jasmine who attempted to open it would get a nasty rash instantly.

He’d love to see that teen troll come back and try to pull that stunt again.

Don’t you worry, little one , he said to the egg as he crouched down to its level. I won’t let anything happen to you.

“Did those kids damage it? How’s Clawed or Clawdia?”

As Jasmine’s form materialized on the other side of the glass, a brief flash of blue light filled the tank.

Was that—

“Mal?”

“Huh?”

“The tank,” she repeated. “Did those kids break anything?”

“No, thank Vorlak.” He rose up and circled the tank to reach her side. “I reinforced the front opening lock with a double hex. Better put up a ‘do not touch’ sign.”

“Thanks, I will.” She cocked her head. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. All good.” He dusted his hands on his pants. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yup, I can close up. You should probably head home or get some dinner. You haven’t eaten all day, I bet.”

“Neither have you,” he pointed out.

“I did. Scarfed a sandwich sometime after noon.”

“That was hours ago. Why don’t I wait for you, and we can grab something at the café?”

“No, I have leftovers at home.”

Mal told himself the rejection of his invitation didn’t sting, and he was only being polite when he asked her anyway. “All right, I should go. Have a good night, Jasmine.”

“You too, Mal.”

As he turned to leave, he gave a last glance toward the hatching tank. He still wasn’t sure what he had seen just now, but his gut screamed that this was no ordinary carcinos egg.

Or, perhaps, Jasmine wasn’t quite what she seemed.