Page 44 of Riding A Cock-Horse
“Just tell the git you’ll bite him with your black mamba and kill him,” Harry suggests, making the jackal man shudder, his eyes filled with trepidation.
“Yeah, bet you didn't know about that,” I grin. “Dr. Fuckface turned me into a killing machine!”
“He wasn't supposed to know about that, lass!” Alastair moans, before chewing out Harry for even bringing it up in the first place. “Now, we surely have to kill the man—he knows too much.”
The poor guy blanches at this assessment, and I kind of feel bad for him—even though he attacked us and probably wanted to do terrible things to me. Not to mention the terrible other things he might have done to other people. Ugh, the laird is right… the dude knows too much. I walk over to the Secondary and crouch down, but Nestor quickly pulls me back out of the jackal-man’s reach. Rolling my eyes, I elbow the Loch Ness Bully off of me.
“Listen,” I say, addressing the bad guy, “youhaveto tell us where the dean and his evil, stupid henchmen are. We can't let them do what they’re doing—it's terrible! I have a goat and a snake coming out of my ass!”
At these whispered words, the man strains to look behind me.
“Not now, I don't!” I huff in exasperation. “But sometimes I do. And I’ll tell you, a lot of people don't know how to handle big, black things in their ass like I do. I guess I’m just gifted like that.”
“You said that she's on scholarship at Oxford?” I hear one of the Elders mutter.
“Yeah, that's what Arthur said,” Phineas whispers. “Do you think the lad’s lyin’ to church her up?”
I turn around with my best WTF look on my face.
“You know I can hear you guys, right?!”
Phineas grins at me.
“I'm surprised you can hear anything over your own thoughts,” he teases.
I scowl darkly at him.
“I'm going to have a Christmas orgy in your living room if you keep it up!”
My words wipe the smile right off of Phineas’ face because I think he knows I'm absolutely serious. I look back at the man laying on the ground.
“Where are Dr. Fuckface’s and Dean Dickler’s headquarters?”
Surely it wasn't where they had taken me before… that place seemed like a slap-together, last minute operation—and Dean Dickler didn't really seem like a slap-together kind of guy, ya know? The Dean of Douchecanoes definitely had a base somewhere. The jackal shifter hesitates finally before confessing:
“The Isle of Man.”
An island of men?!
Sign me the fuck up.
I hear Arthur’s sharp intake of breath and watch him run an agitated hand through his red hair.
“That's where the English wolverines live!”
“A what?” I demand, looking back at him.
“English wolverines—they’re endangered and known for their ferocity and strength—especially in comparison to their size. It’s been documented that they can kill other animals many times larger than their body size. And if the dean’s headquarters are there—the wolverines aredefinitelyshifters.”
“What’s going on at that island?!” I growl at the Secondary.
“The doctor’s facility is there… together with the dean, he’s creating new shifters. But beware—the island is guarded by the most vicious Secondaries.”
“Chihuahuas?” I whisper.
The guy looks at me like I’m stupid.
“Hey! Have you ever been in a fight with one?! They're tiny, but mighty! I donotrecommend messing with them.”
