Page 49 of The Howl
“Sorry. Piepen and Elbner arrived last night. Elbner’s at your place with his honey-milk. Piepen’s here.”
“That’s great.”
“No. It’s not.”
I crossed the room and closed myself in the bathroom so Piepen wouldn’t hear me.
“He’s in a horny, adolescent phase and keeps touching himself. Brownie lust does not taste like you’d think. You need to get your butt home as soon as possible. The brownie and my mom both need to go.”
Just the thought of my mom in the other room upset me all over again.
“She’s staying here, Megan. At the Quills’. She’s already found my stash of chocolate and eaten half of it. Once the chocolate’s gone, she’s going to turn her attention on me. She already commented that I look underfed.”
Piepen knocked on the bathroom door, and I covered the phone.
“I told you, I need privacy while I’m in the bathroom,” I said. “If you can’t respect that, we’ll need to find you somewhere else to stay while Megan’s away.”
“I knocked. I didn’t come in!” he said, his voice fading as he flew away.
I removed my hand from the phone and spoke softly, needing Megan to understand the seriousness of my situation.
“I caught him showering in the runoff from my pubic hairs this morning. When I went to kick him, he thanked me for the view of my flower.”
Megan laughed in my ear.
“This isn’t funny, Megan. It’s traumatizing. Help me. No one sees my flower. Ever!”
“I am helping. I swear. We’re going to follow up on a lead we have that links someone else to the trolls’ deaths.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know his name. He’s just a hooded man who talked to the victims at the Goose and Gizzard before they died.”
“Piepen mentioned that a nice man, who helped his grandparents find peace, wore a cloak. Maybe it’s the same guy.”
“Maybe. Talk to Piepen and see if you can get anything useful out of him. A name. An address. What the hell the guy looks like.”
“I will. Just hurry.”
I opened the door to check on Piepen and saw him holding a ball of material to his face. I frowned, realizing he was licking the crotch of my underwear from the dirty laundry bin.
“Put down my underwear!”
Not giving up his prize, he flew to his drawer and started humping the material like crazy.
Forgetting Megan, I dropped the phone and hurried across the room.
“Do you have to be so gross?” I demanded, pulling the underwear from his hold.
He looked up at me with an indignant expression.
“The scent of your flower isn’t gross. It’s magnificent. It’s magical.”
“It’s going in the washing machine.”
I stormed from the room, taking all my dirty laundry with me.
Could my world get any more insane?
