Chapter 29 Eng
ENG
I’d found the slip of paper with the phone number on it, but the shrew, Willa, had not returned any of my texts.
Worried that I’d misread the dusty note I’d found half under the stove, I nearly called Ozar to confirm that this was actually her number.
Nearly. My pride stopped me at the last minute, so instead I called the number.
It was Willa’s voice on the recording. I didn’t leave a message.
After the beep sounded, my ability to speak vanished, leaving me to gape at my cell phone like a dying fish before panicking and disconnecting the call.
Three text messages and a weirdly silent voice mail message. She was going to think I was insane, that I’d turned into a begging, worthless fool.
I was a begging worthless fool.
How could I have been so blind? Ozar had worked to win Jordan over.
He’d investigated the ways humans wooed and courted.
He’d asked her what she liked, what she wanted for her future and created a life that satisfied them both.
I’d just focused on ensuring Willa was pleased in the furs and that we both enjoyed our dates, but I ignored the rest. I knew how important her family was to her, but I’d never expressed the slightest bit of interest in meeting them.
Her job helping others reach their fitness and athletic goals was admirable, but I never followed up with questions about specific clients, or asked her what her fitness and athletic goals might be.
It had been superficial interest, not the deep sort of connection I truly wanted with her.
And now it might be too late. Would I lose my princess before I could even put the crown on her head?
Judging from the silence my text messages and leg of lamb gift had brought, it seemed I had lost her, but maybe not for good.
Maybe there was still a chance I could win her back.
It was time to swallow my pride and reach out to Bwat for help. He’d had good ideas for Ozar, so he should be able to assist me in winning Willa back. And he owed me for punching me at McHenry’s last night.
Locking the door of my hovel behind me, I headed for the arena.
And found a meeting just about to begin.
Escallates Johnson rubbed his hands together. The demon grinned as he began to speak. “As you know, I was able to establish this NHL team due to my close personal relationship with the Ha-Satan, and her household’s significant ownership stake in several professional sports franchises.”
Judging from the looks we orcs were exchanging with each other, none of us knew this, and none of us seemed to understand why it would be relevant to our situation.
“I don’t know jack shit about hockey and don’t really care,” the demon continued.
“But I do know and care about money, so I hired you orcs at a special discounted rate to provide the sort of entertainment that would fill the stadium. But things have changed. I’m a demon who knows an opportunity when I see one, and I see a big opportunity.
I need you all to start scoring goals and winning games.
I need you all to have fans screaming your names and spending a significant amount of money on team merchandise.
I need random humans blowing up their social media with Tusk content so sponsors are lining up to give me money for their company’s name on the boards. ”
We orcs continued to look confused, although the mention of scoring goals and winning games gave me a clue to where this was going.
“The team now has a promotions and public relations team headed by Abby Anton. I expect you to all do whatever she says. Whatever. Got it?”
“Yes! We will do whatever Abby says,” Bwat enthusiastically agreed. The rest of the orcs nodded. I didn’t since there was no way I would agree to such a thing, but Escallates didn’t seem to notice my non-compliance.
“Because none of you oafs knows how to play hockey, I’ve also brought on a coach.
Bill Rencovitch. He taught some kids’ leagues in Minnesota, so he should be able to get the Tusks in the playoffs, or whatever they call it.
He starts Wednesday. Every one of you is expected to be on the ice at ten every morning for practice with him. ”
Everyone nodded. Except for me. I was too busy wondering what this coach would start demanding I do at practice and during the games.
“And the team trainer, Willa Filipkowski starts Monday. She’ll be working with the coach to customize your workout routines and ensure you’re not all turning into green doughy blobs. You’ll meet her here in the gym at six every morning. No exceptions.”
Most of the demon’s words drifted right on past me, because I’d fixated on the name of our new team trainer. Willa Filipkowski. Willa. My Willa. My shrew.
Or at least, the female who used to be my shrew.
Ignoring the nodding orcs and demon monologue, I pulled out my phone and glanced at it.
Still no return texts. No missed calls. My finger hovered over the screen, not sure if I should text Willa to congratulate her, or to express my enthusiasm over the prospect of seeing her every morning.
In the end I shoved the phone back into my pocket. Two messages was enough for today.
If she was still talking to me, still sleeping with me, we could have arrived at the stadium at six in the morning together, each with a cup of coffee in one hand, the other hand at the other’s waist. Everyone would know she was mine.
But she wasn’t mine. Glancing around at the other orcs I wondered if any of them would try to get her into their furs. Or court her. I wasn’t the only orc who admired a strong female. No, I was the only one stupid enough to have had her and lost her.
Maybe one of them wouldn’t be so foolish.
The thought brought a growl to my lips, that evidently had slipped out from the look Ozar was giving me.
“I know you do not like to use the gym equipment, but Willa is Jordan’s friend and I would like it if you were nice to her and at least tried to cooperate,” he whispered.
Nice? Yes, I would be nice. Cooperate? I was going to do more than cooperate.
I’d show her I was the best at whatever physical test she gave us.
I’d prove to her that even if she asked us to humiliate ourselves in front of all the humans in Baltimore, I’d do it for her.
She might ignore my texts and calls, but she wouldn’t be able to ignore me from six in the morning until whenever we were done training, every single day.
The demon owner of the team went on talking for another twenty minutes in what I assume was supposed to be a motivating speech that would spur us to hockey victory.
When he finished and left, there was a few seconds of silence, then the orcs all stood and prepared for what Ozar said would be an on-ice workout to prepare us for our new coach and trainer.
Brown-noser.
Pointedly not putting on my skates, I walked over to Bwat and sat down next to him.
“We have to talk.”
Bwat eyed me nervously. “Sorry about hitting you last night. If you want to do the same to me, go right ahead.”
“I’d rather you help me with something instead,” I told him. “There’s a female who was regularly in my furs, but I made a mistake and now she doesn’t want to see me again.”
The other orc blinked a few times. “You…you had a female in your furs? A human female? Regularly in your furs?”
“Don’t act so surprised. Of course I have. Human females all want me.” Actually only one had wanted me, but Bwat didn’t need to know about that.
He shrugged. “Well then go find another human female if they are all lining up to have sex with you.”
“I don’t want another human female. I want this one. And I want you to help me win her back.”
Bwat frowned. “Me? Why me? I’m no expert at human females. I can’t even manage to get one to let me purchase a beverage for her.”
“You helped Ozar win his mate,” I countered. “I just want you to do the same for me. But you can’t tell anyone else about this. Not Ozar, not Ugwyll. No one. Tell no one you’re helping me to court a human female. And tell no one who she is.”
Bwat’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Who is she?”
“I’m not telling you. But if you guess, then you still must keep it a secret.”
“Okay, but I’m not promising any results.” The other orc hesitated a few seconds. “So why did she stop coming to your furs?”
I looked around, double checking to ensure no one else was nearby. “We would always go to each other’s hovels, or go back to one of our beds after we encountered the other in a restaurant or bar. Every time we saw each other, we had sex, sometimes until morning.”
The other orc’s eyebrows shot up. “That sounds promising, but from what I have read on the internet, most human females want more than sexual relations eventually.”
Orc males ended up wanting more than sex eventually too—at least I did.
“I wanted to have more of her than just her body, so I asked her to dinner and we began to spend time together out of the furs. I thought we both wanted the same thing, and she seemed happy to be with me both in and out of bed. We spent most of our time together for almost two weeks.”
Bwat nodded. “That is a lot of sex. Did she leave because your hand-axe failed to harden sufficiently?”
“No!” I lowered my voice after a number of the other orcs looked our way. “My hand-axe always hardens sufficiently. And it remains hard until the female has been satisfied several times. Sometimes it remains hard even after I have released my seed.”
Bwat eyed me. “I have read that may be a concerning sign of a health problem. If your hand-axe remains hard for more than four hours, you should immediately see a physician.”
It wasn’t hard for that long, although I wasn’t sure I should admit to that. “I do not need to see a physician,” I snarled at the other orc.
Bwat scooted away from me. “Then why does she no longer want to be with you?”