Page 43 of The Mermaid's Bubble Lounge
TWENTY
Scuttlebutt
Meri’s gaze went to the window. She waved and then pointed to the bar. “That’s my dad. Let me ask if he knows how to fight them.” She ran off and I was left wondering how we could possibly corner and kill a powerful shape-shifter.
Owen brought me a cup of tea. “Hey, boss. Looks like you’re almost done with this order.”
I nodded and took a sip.
“The scuttlebutt around town is that we have vampires visiting soon.” He looked apprehensive. “It won’t be like last time, right? No battles in the streets?”
I moved a finished stack of books to the shelving cart. “No. It shouldn’t be.” I glanced up. “Whose scuttlebutt? I thought it was super hush-hush?”
He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “I have my sources.”
“But how would George know?” I asked.
Owen gave me a disgruntled look. “Listen, sister, I’ve lived in this town a lot longer than you. I know people.” At my blank stare, he rolled his eyes and said, “Fine. Dave told me.”
I pulled the last stack of books out of the shipping box and Owen began to break it down. “How did he—” I remembered that someone at the nocturne had asked Dave to check out the crime scene at The Bubble Lounge. If that someone was Godfrey, he probably would have blabbed. “Never mind. Dave knows lots of people too.”
Meri returned from the bar, looking dejected. “He says he doesn’t know of any way to stop them. He thinks there were originally three pookas free in this realm. He heard that the queen’s guard captured two of them.”
She bit her lip. “The thing is, though, they really are seen as a kind of fae boogeyman, so he doesn’t know what’s real and what’s made up. He said, though, that he might know someone who does.”
Her expression brightened. “I told him everything you’ve done for me—getting rid of that man and helping me buy a car. I think he’s decided he owes you. If he can, he’ll find the answer.”
I put down the book I was inventorying. “You know you don’t owe me anything, right? No one’s keeping score.”
She gave a quick shake of her head. “You don’t know my dad. He won’t stand for being indebted. Chances are he won’t learn anything you don’t already know, but it’s worth him trying, right?”
“Absolutely.” I reached out and squeezed her hand. “Please thank him for me. We need all the help we can get.”
“Good,” she said on a decisive nod before picking up a stack of books and continuing to shelve.
Owen and Meri ended their shifts at the same time, so he was able to walk her to her car. So far, the creepy stalker hadn’t returned. I didn’t want to dim her joy, but I did remind her before she left to keep an eye out. Obsession was pretty powerful, even in the face of fear.
Fyr, Dave, and I worked the evening shift. I’d go home soon, but not yet. The sun wasn’t down, so Clive was still sleeping. Working helped to distract me from our current problem.
At a little after nine, Fyr left to start his shift at the Viper’s Nest, and I went behind the bar. It was a quiet night. There were only two occupied tables, with five people in total. Two were drinking beers and the other three had a fresh pot of tea. Dave would take over for me when I left, but for now, he was baking in the kitchen.
I was sitting on my stool behind the bar, a book in my lap, but I couldn’t focus enough to read. I watched the dark water smash against the window, the sky purpling, and I worried that he was out there now, wearing a stolen face and plotting his next kill.
I was so distracted, I didn’t realize we had two more people in the bar until a pair of strong arms wrapped around me and I felt a kiss by my ear. Glancing past Clive’s shoulder, I saw Vlad sitting on a stool. Unfortunately, the other patrons noticed him too. They had a good healthy fear of Clive, but they also seemed to recognize that he’d never attack them. They did not give Vlad that same trust.
“Good evening, darling. How has your day been?”
I stood so I could hug him properly. “I’m okay. Just worried,” I said into his shirt. “It’s better now, though.”
He kissed the top of my head.
I looked up at the sound of Dave’s heavy boots. He shoved a meatball sandwich on a plate at me.
“I already ate.”
“So eat again,” he grumbled, heading back to the kitchen.
I glared at Vlad, who seemed unusually interested in the state of his pristine shirt sleeve.
