Page 33 of The Mermaid's Bubble Lounge
She waved me off. “Fine. Go. I’m busy.” She went back to talking with customers and filling drinks.
Fergus got some pets on the way out and then we were jogging through the parking lot and running along the Embarcadero, past the piers. We passed other dog walkers and couples strolling. The Ferry Building was lit up, a family on the steps, taking pictures. Small bars were dotted along the piers, some quiet, others with people overflowing into the parking lot, laughing and drinking.
We passed a man running with his dog in the opposite direction. His dog pulled to get close to us, but Fergus kept going straight because he’s a good and smart boy. I had to leap over the top of the damn dog who’d cut in front of me. The stupid runner was grinning when his dog blocked me and then looked shocked when I kept going. Geez. Let people run. I’m not out here looking for a date.
I went through a stretch that was quiet. I didn’t see anyone on either side of the road, so I checked and found three green blips and two red ones clustered together. “We have less than a mile before we can take a break, buddy.”
Maybe half a dozen piers later, Fergus slowed, lifting his head to the wind. He’d smelled something. He slowed even more and then stopped near a shuttered churros stand. The tourists were gone for the night, so the stand had been closed up. Something, though, drew him to it.
Clive, Fergus is very interested in a churros stand less than a mile from you, on the Embarcadero.
I’ll find you.
I felt him running, so I pulled Fergus back and took a sniff myself. Fish, ocean, vermin, cats, and cinnamon sugar. I wasn’t sure what had attracted Fergus. A rat ran along the side of the pier building, but Fergus didn’t notice. He whined, trying to get close to the boarded-up stand. With a yip, followed closely by a low growl, he strained against the leash.
Clive stepped out from behind the stand. I blew out a breath, annoyed that I’d gotten myself so worked up. He reached out a hand to Fergus, who growled, showing his teeth.
“That’s odd. Dogs normally like me,” he said in a voice that was not Clive’s.
SIXTEEN
Don’t Mess with My Dog
A chill ran down my spine. I breathed in deeply, a fake smile on my face. “He’s just protective.” Whatever this was, the scent was all wrong. It was neither human nor vampire. He’s here and he’s glamoured himself to look like you.
He beckoned us forward. “He probably smells the dog treats I keep in my stand. Come around back and I’ll get him one.”
Fergus backed up until his quivering butt was touching my legs. He didn’t want me going to the Clive look-alike. I patted his flank. We were on the same page.
“No thank you.”
The fake Clive was suddenly in front of me, his hand clamping Fergus’ snout closed like a muzzle. He leaned in, leering, and then his nose scrunched up in distaste. “What have you been?—”
My claws slid through the wrist of the hand holding my dog. Fergus yelped and shook off the severed hand still wrapped around his nose. The killer’s eyes went wide and then swirled in black and gold. Fae.
Staring at his forehead to avoid being mesmerized, I reached for my axe. His stump went for my arm before he remembered he had lost his hand. While he worked through his new reality, I plunged my claws into his chest. He leapt back instantly, his head turning toward where I felt Clive approaching. Snarling at me, he spun and raced down the pier.
The real Clive ripped the axe out of my hand and gave chase. I dropped to my knees to check on Fergus. While I held him, I scanned the wooden planks we were on, looking for the severed hand. It wasn’t here. Perhaps it had just appeared in Faerie.
When I tried to touch Fergus’ snout, he whined and pulled his head away. “I’m sorry, little man. I’m so sorry he hurt you.” He leaned into me, his body quivering. I scratched behind his ears. “You were so brave, trying to protect me.”
He sat, and I rubbed my hands up and down his sides until the shaking subsided. I felt Clive moving up behind me and then my axe was being returned to its sheath.
“I lost him.” He rested his left hand on Fergus’ head. The pup flinched, sniffed his hand, and then leaned in to Clive’s touch.
I felt Clive’s hurt, that his own dog had been taught not to trust him. I pulled Clive down where Fergus could sniff his face and hair and then I reached for the right hand he was holding behind his back.
“It’s nothing. You know I heal quickly.”
I sighed. He was right, but I hated that he was in pain and hiding it. My axe was fae made and vampires couldn’t touch fae metal. It burned their skin.
“What happened?” Benvair’s voice made me jump. Dragons were every bit as quiet as vampires.
Clive and I stood and walked to Benvair and Alec, who waited on the sidewalk. I explained what had happened and Alec went to the churros stand, sniffing around the back.
He came back a moment later, shaking his head. “I don’t smell anything recent, just the humans who work here or visited, and some mice.”
I kept a hand on Fergus’s shoulder as he leaned into me. “Can he mimic scents the way he mimics faces? Is that why we aren’t finding him?”
