Page 27 of Horn in My Side

JASMINE

“Thanks for your purchase,” Jasmine said to the father and son duo who had bought the last of their kelpies. “Come see us again.”

She waved as they exited the shop, the son holding the door open for his father as he carried out a brand-new tank under one arm and a bag full of goodies in the other.

Sunday of the festival weekend was Jasmine’s favorite day.

Most people were burned out after the frenzy of Saturday’s activities, so now almost everything was winding down.

The morning was still busy, but after lunchtime, the crowds waned.

She didn’t mind the slowdown, as they already had a blockbuster day yesterday, earning about fifty per cent more than last year if her calculations were correct.

She was glad she’d followed Kap’s advice and had T-shirts, mugs, and stickers made that featured cute cartoon drawings of different creatures, as those had practically flown off the shelves.

However, she did draw the line at his suggestion of making shirts with Mal’s face on it that said “Zaddy Orc.”

Speaking of . . .

Her gaze drifted outside to where Mal stood beside their table, handing out flyers to passersby.

She hadn’t expected him to come today, but she should have known better.

Even though he didn’t have to, he came to her rescue yesterday.

The crowds pouring in had been overwhelming and that rude father was the icing on the cake.

When he’d gone all protective and growly her insides turned to mush.

Her feminist side protested at his white—green?

—knight act, but well, all other parts of her were screaming, “Yes, please, can I have some more?” like some Victorian-era orphan.

Oh Mother Goddess, I’m supposed to stop crushing on him.

That had been the plan from the very beginning, but that soul-searing kiss against the hatching tank pushed her further away from that goal.

That had been over two weeks ago, yet it remained fresh in her mind—his firm lips, the way he moaned into her mouth, his large hands gripping her, the humungous bulge that had pressed up against her stomach.

Just the thought of it had her core clenching tight.

Legendary orc dick, indeed.

Even now, as she watched from behind the display window, her eyes were drawn to his muscled back, her fingers hankering to dig into them again and feel them moving under her hands.

Mal, as if sensing her ogling him, turned toward her.

She leapt backwards, heart jumping into her throat.

Did he see her? Warmth crept up her neck and she rushed behind the counter, hiding her face behind the computer screen, praying Mal wouldn’t come in.

The rest of the afternoon saw even less customers, and by five o’clock, Jasmine decided to start closing up.

She began with the pens and cages downstairs, dropping in dinner for those who needed it and cleaning out all the trays.

After a quick wash of her hands, she climbed to the second floor to start with the creatures there.

With nearly half their stock gone, she zipped through her work.

As she was hanging up the last clipboard, she heard the heavy steps of Mal’s boots trudging up the steps.

She froze, her brain scrambling for an escape route.

Calm down , she told herself. It’s only Mal.

“Hey, Mal.” Her tone was casual and cool. “What—Oh, you didn’t have to bring that up here. I could have asked Kap to come before his shift.”

Mal carried the table from outside over one shoulder. “It’s fine,” he said in a gruff voice. He planted it on the floor so forcefully, the legs scraping the wood made Jasmine’s teeth hurt.

Was he angry about something? Maybe he wasn’t happy she refused his offer of dinner last night.

She was tempted, but a) she didn’t have the budget to eat out right now, and b) the two of them having dinner together would feel too much like a date, which would really put a crimp in her “stop crushing on your boss” plans.

“Mal?” she called as he pivoted toward the stairs.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” She couldn’t figure out what else to say, except that she hated that feeling stuck in her gut right now, knowing he was mad about something. “For coming in today. You didn’t have to—”

Crash!

Mal’s indigo eyes grew to the size of saucers as fear gripped Jasmine’s chest.

“ The tank, ” they said at the same time.

Though Mal had bigger strides, Jasmine was faster. She raced down to the first floor, stopping short when she arrived on the main floor.

“Oh no,” she cried. “Mal . . . your tank.”

Shards and bits of glass littered the floor as one of the tank walls had been completely shattered. Stepping around the debris carefully, she gasped when she looked inside.

“What is it?” Mal’s boots crunched on the glass as he drew closer. “Is the egg broken?”

“Yes. I mean, no, not quite.”

Large chunks of pearly blue scales littered the floor of the aquarium, but the pieces were completely clean. Mal reached inside and picked up a shell shard. “Looks like it hatched.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

He held up the piece to his nose, sniffed, then grunted.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I mean . . .” He glanced around them. “A newly hatched carcinos couldn’t have done this damage. It takes a few days for their exoskeleton to harden.”

She bit at her lip. “So the egg wasn’t a carcinos?”

“Unlikely.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“No.”

But she had a feeling he had a suspicion. Anyway, that didn’t matter now. “Would it have crawled out—Oh no!”

Mal’s head whipped toward where she was looking—one of the panels of the display window had been broken too. “Fuck,” he cursed. “I noticed the reinforcement spell wearing out—I meant to fix it this week.”

“We have a bigger problem, though,” she pointed out. “The carcinos, or whatever it is, is out there.”

“Mother Trakku.” He rubbed a palm down his face. “All right, let’s go find our escaped jailbird.”

Did he think it was a bird, then?

“Okay,” he began as the door locked behind them. “Let’s split up. You stay on this side of the street, and I’ll take the other.”

She held up a hand. “But how do we know what we’re looking for?”

“We’ll probably know it when we see it.”

“True.” As he turned to cross the street, she called out to him. “Wait, Mal! We have to be discreet. If the Main Street Business Association hears about this . . .”

“We’ll get a big fine.” He clenched his jaw. “Okay, we’ll keep it as quiet as possible.”

“Thanks, Mal.”

Jasmine began her search next door at the dry-cleaners. Pushing the door open, she entered Main Street Dry-Cleaning and Laundry, her heart pounding as she waved at the owner, Mrs. O’Shea.

“Hello, Jasmine,” the sweet, elderly woman greeted. “How are you? Did you have a good Founding Day Festival?”

“We did, thanks for asking, Mrs. O’Shea.” Hopefully her voice sounded casual.

“What can I do for you? Did you want something dry-cleaned or pressed? We’re still offering a ten per cent discount for all employees on Main Street.”

“Not right now. I was wondering . . .” Oh Mother Goddess, how was she going to do this? “Have you seen anything strange going on around here? Anything unusual outside?”

The woman laughed. “This is Dewberry Falls, dear. I’m not sure what you would categorize as strange and unusual.”

“Right.” She forced out a laugh.

“Is there anything wrong, dear?” Concern creased her face. “You look flushed.”

“Er, you see . . .” Her brain scrambled for an explanation. “We had one of our windows broken.”

Mrs. O’Shea gasped. “Oh no. Do you have any idea who it was? Have you filed a report with the police?”

“No, not yet, ma’am. I think it might be just some kid. I’d like to speak with them or their parents before I get the authorities involved.”

“How generous of you.” She clucked her tongue. “All right, dear. If I see anything or anyone suspicious, I’ll call you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Jasmine went to every business on her side of Main Street, from the general store, the brewery, the bakery, and even the gardening store, asking if they had seen anything weird or out of the ordinary.

By the time she reached the last store, the Glitter and Gold Jewelry Emporium, the sign in front had been turned to “Closed.”

“Oh no.”

She pressed her nose up against the glass, trying to peer inside, but didn’t see any creature crawling around nor were any of the windows or display cases broken.

The employees of Glitter and Gold always locked everything up tight at closing time and they also had a top-of-the-line security system.

If anyone—or anything—broke in, they’d know right away.

Still, she wished she had come here first, before they closed up.

Her fingers itched, wanting to do something like break the window to check inside, but she didn’t want to spend the night in jail.

Defeated, she trudged back to the shop. When she arrived at Fantastic Tails, Mal was already waiting outside.

“Any luck?” she asked.

“No.” He shook his head. “Let’s go inside and regroup.”

Unsure what else to do, she followed him into the shop, stomach roiling at the sight of the broken glass on the floor. “Your tank . . .”

“Will be fine,” he said. “I can fix it later. But we have bigger things to worry about.”

He was right.

“So, what do we do now?” she asked.

“For starters, something we should have done first. Check the security cameras.”

“Duh.” She slapped a palm on her forehead, then ran behind the counter. Tapping the keyboard of her computer, she pulled up the footage from the main floor and played it. “Darn.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t adjust the cameras when you started building the hatching tank.” Turning the screen toward him, she played the footage. “You can see the glass shatter but not what broke out.”

“And the display window?”