Page 87 of The Howl

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The soundof my phone pulled me out of a deep sleep.

“Hello?” I answered groggily.

“Get out of bed, beautiful. Your meat-beating brownie issues are solved.”

My sluggish brain struggled to process what Fenris was saying.

“My what?”

“I found your brownie a new home as promised. Meet me at the marshes in thirty minutes, or we’ll miss our chance.”

I looked at the time on my phone, saw that it wasn’t even six in the morning and that Fenris had already hung up.

He couldn’t be serious, could he? How had he found a family overnight? Had he slept? Had I? Mom’s party had kept me up until close to three. My eyes felt gritty like I needed at least another two hours. But thirty minutes barely gave enough time for me to drive to the marshes.

My eyes, which had closed again, flew open, and I scrambled from bed.

“Piepen, get dressed. We need to hurry.”

He sat up in his drawer, his shaggy hair wild around his head.

“Is it the baby? Is it time?”

“What? No. Get dressed.”

He flopped back onto his pillow.

I rushed to the closet, threw on some clothes, and was out the door with a naked Piepen and a handful of brownie clothes two minutes later.

“I’m going to freeze my bells off,” he said when we reached the garage.

“I think you mean balls, and they wouldn’t be cold if you’d gotten dressed like I’d said.”

“No, I mean bells. They make beautiful music when I—”

“Don’t want to know, Piepen. Just get in and get dressed.” I tossed his clothes into the back seat with him and hurried to pull out of the garage.

He bombarded me with questions as we drove. Wisely, I didn’t say much.

“You’re making me nervous,” he said, landing on my shoulder. “Why won’t you tell me where we’re going? Are you going to lock me in a cage and eat my wings?”

“No. I’m going to do the opposite so you can truly be happy.”

“I am happy. I’m with my woman who’s carrying my baby. What more could a man want?” He stepped closer to my cheek and stroked a hand over it. “Well, I could think of something,” he said, lowering his high-pitched voice pseudo-seductively. “How about you pull over and I make you really happy?”

“Stop touching me, brownie, or you’ll find out what’s it’s like to be a mosquito.”

“Someone’s cranky. Probably because you missed your dose of vitamin P.”

I flicked him from my shoulder. He squealed indignantly but recovered in the air just before hitting the passenger seat.

“Keep this up and I’m going to leave,” he said.

“Come back here so I can flick you again.”

“You’re being mean.”