CHAPTER 30
Two months later…
“I’m telling you, this chinchilla is possessed! Give me a refund, you dumbfuck!” The customer demands.
Hobs have venom glands that activate primarily when threatened. I have to swallow venom in gulps, letting it burn the back of my throat as I do exactly as the customer has ordered and give her a refund she doesn’t deserve—
“WAIT,” Hannah says, storming into our side of the store. No doubt she spotted me on the monitor she carries and realized I was being ordered around. These days, if she has customers in the fabric shop, she tries very hard not to abandon them to rescue me. But watching females obliterate my autonomy more than distresses my mate. Day after day of watching this happen to me has “activated her backbone,” Hannah informed me.
What she means to say is it makes her incensed enough to overcome her natural tendency to be agreeable.
Take now for example. Nostrils flaring, green eyes practically snapping fire, Hannah looks between me and the customer. In a clipped, hard voice that sounds reminiscent of Julie—who by providence, Hannah says she’s essentially been apprenticing under since they first became friends—Hannah asks the customer, “What’s going on here?”
From my shoulder, Mick wails, “HUG MEEEEEE!”
I reach up and close my hand over Mick’s face and we all otherwise ignore Mick’s theatrics.
The woman narrows her eyes on my mate, making my wings attempt to expand threateningly in their cloaked prison. “You guys sold me a defective animal. It screams its head off at two-thirty every fricking morning. I don’t know if it’s sick or screwed up or what, but I’m tired of it. Take it back and give me a refund.”
Hannah’s lips have pressed into a tight line. “Ma’am, did you read the care guide we sent you home with?”
“Yeah,”the customer claims, tone bellicose.
I send a knowing glance at Hannah. She told me that customers who demand refunds on their animal companions almost never read the care guides. Nor do they complete research at home. Instead, they get frustrated at their new pet without making any effort to decipher their pet’s behaviors.
I’ve found Hannah’s claim to be true.
Hannah looks at me, and her eyes narrow dangerously. “Jonoh? Did she tell you to shut up?”
I nod.
Hannah grits her teeth, and the look in her eyes says if she were a Rakhii, she would turn this woman into a s’more. “You have permission to speak,” she forces out.
I nearly slump in relief. “Thank you.” I look at our customer, who is out of patience. “Prin—ma’am,” I say. “As I was attempting to tell you, chinchillas are crepuscular—”
“What does that even mean?” the woman starts.
“Your pet has two high activity points, the first at dusk—and the second at dawn, as you’ve found. Chinchillas most often scream as a way of gaining their owner’s attention. They may also scream if they are lonely. Since your chinchilla is male, he is likely seeking a mate. Companionship may solve most of the dawn activity you find upsetting. If you want to keep him, you could attempt to introduce him to a cagemate—”
“I don’t want two screaming animals,” the customer says crossly, shaking her head, exasperated. “Just refund me already!”
I swiftly move to obey her because I have to.
Hannah rounds on the customer. “STOP telling him what to do!!”
“Hannah,” I whisper.
Breathing heavily, Hannah bares her teeth and looks over at me.
I shake my head. I complete the refund transaction, and gently lift the box that the chinchilla has been returned in. I can feel him moving, hopping in slow circles, no doubt very confused. Without delay, I carry him to the cage the creature resided in just three short days ago and release him. I slide a cage partition down the length of the cage, because I’ve found that animals, even if they are friends, can be rather rough on each other during reintroduction. The chinchilla’s cagemate leaves its sleeping hut to investigate its returned neighbor and the two begin barking animatedly at each other.
“I didn’t know they made so much noise!” the customer complains, readjusting her purse strap and striding for the door.
You would have if you’d bothered to read the perspicuous care guide,I want to say to the customer, but I bite down on the words. Castigating her isn’t likely to teach her a lesson. We have many wonderful customers who love their animals even with their wild quirks and instincts, which are often disruptive and strange. None of them would consider purchasing an animal who they haven’t researched the care for, and if they did, they would adjust and happily keep the animal anyway. This woman? She doesn’t deserve a chinchilla.
As the woman leaves our store, she throws over her shoulder, “And by the way? You have small dick energy.”
Hannah goes rigid.
I frown. “Small dick energy?” I repeat, baffled.
Hannah storms over until she’s stopped in front of me, a small protective forcefield between me and the pneumatically closing door as she declares, “OH YEAH? Lady, you’ve got big cunt energy! Don’t come back!”
“I have a perfectly average ‘dick,’” I point out to Hannah’s heaving back, feeling discomfited. “I didn’t realize penises gave off energy that female humans could read,” I tell her. I scan her, a new insecurity germinating in me. “This entire time, how have you perceived my penis’s energy?”
“Jonoh,” Hannah says as she turns to me. Her voice cracks as her body loses its angry tension and she huffs out a short laugh. “You have an exceptional penis.”
“I do?”
“You do. It’s a virtuoso.”
My brows knit. “That would mean it is skilled in music.”
“You play my body like a maestro,” Hannah claims. “Exceptionality is definitely the energy your penis gives off.”
“Really?” I ask, searching her face.
“Yes,” she assures me. And she looks sincere, so I take her at her word.
“I love youuuu,” Mick whispers against my ear before his beak taps my cheek.
I sigh. Then I reach up and offer him my fingers, which he gratefully steps onto, curling his toes tightly around my digits. I bring him in front of my face and tell him sincerely, “I am growing rather fond of you, I suppose.”
Mick begins to walk sideways over my hand and along my forearm, his third eyelids flickering over his eyes as he chuckles, his dry, purplish tongue bouncing in his open beak.
Some weeks ago, after caring for him daily without Hannah in the vicinity to set off my mate guarding instincts, he and I had a touching moment wherein I finally realized Mick isn”t a threat to my relationship with Hannah, and in fact never has been.
“You’re so good with him,” Hannah sighs, gazing at us.
Ruefully, I bring my hand behind Mick’s crest, letting his feathers fall over my fingers.
Mick, his feathers so downy, so soft it feels as if I”m cupping handfuls of clouds, presses the side of his face into my palm and whispers his favorite phrase yet again. “I love you.”
“I… don”t love you, exactly,” I tell him honestly. “But I… I am willing to admit that I was wrong about you all this time.” I pet the side of my thumb over his incredibly pleasant-to-touch feathers. “I”m exceptionally sorry for how I”ve treated you. And for how I’ve spoken of you.”
Crest puffing against my palm, he replies to me in Hannah’s voice. I think he is attempting to wheedle me into making an admission he desperately wants to hear. “I love you, Mick.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I said I was sorry. You won”t get me to say that.”
He makes an unnerving chuckling sound—unnerving because it is also in Hannah”s voice—and kisses my thumb. Then his beak hooks around my thumb, testing my flesh.
“Mick,” Hannah warns.
Mick’s crest rises.
“Don’t be mean to Jonoh when we’re conditioning him to fall in love with you. Come here,” Hannah says.
Mick releases my digit and begins shuffling down my arm. He opens his wings, batting them, urging me to move closer to Hannah so that he can be transferred.
Shaking my head at this creature’s antics, I begin to move for Hannah to do as they’ve bid.
The doorbells jangle as the door jerks open behind Hannah. And a massive dark form fills the doorway.
Hannah turns and chokes on her customer greeting. “Welc—AH!”
It’s a Rakhii.
“It’s Xoknith,” I remind her, in case she doesn’t recognize him. Xoknith, the mate-and-pup abducting Rakhii. One of them, anyway.
He’s dressed in the type of pants and shirt that Rakhii reserve for combat situations. Mostly black fabric with multiple pockets and straps that are sure to be brimming with weapons.
Which seems redundant when Rakhii themselves are walking weapons.
He inclines his horns toward us and holds the door open for his human child and mate to enter. He scans the tarmac and travelway activity outside the store for threats before he ducks his horns to follow his family inside.
Under the store’s lights, his scales don’t gleam. They appear to be more of a flat maroon color. Unlike the last time we saw him, when he was so focused on capturing his family that his pupils had expanded, darkening his eyes, today, despite his potentially threatening attire, his eyes are lighter. They glow a rare tourmaline. A sign he is feeling carefree, cheerful, and friendly.
To my relief, both his mate and pup appear happy and healthy. Although I never really expected any different. Rakhii have this effect on the humans they abduct. His mate’s expression looks delighted, actually, as she gazes at Mick. Her offspring though is looking at everything at her level, not even noticing Mick’s existence. The youngling pulls at her dam’s hand, wanting to go exploring, and her dam pulls away from Xoknith, allowing herself to be led down an aisle. I notice that she’s wearing a style of shirt and pants that I helped design, although I had no part in sewing the specific outfit she’s sporting.
Xoknith moves up to me, his arm extended for a tap. “Jonoh,” he says easily.
I oblige him, tapping his fingers in greeting. “What can we do for you?”
He sweeps his gaze around the store with some interest as his pup scampers down an isle of pet toys, her dam following her, amused. The Rakhii’s eyes lock on his females until they’re out of sight. Then he focuses on me. “I came to make good on our bargain. You asked me to grill an Earthen avian that I gather is giving you trouble.” His eyes fall on Hannah... and Mick, who Hannah is clutching against her chest, attempting to cover him with both of her hands.
“You two were serious about that?” Hannah asks, sounding stricken. “Jonoh,” she says, darting me a desperate look. “Please. Can you please tell him you were kidding?”
Xoknith frowns, taking in my mate, the way she is protecting Mick and he sends me a stern look of opprobrium. “You bargained for me to destroy an animal your mate prizes?” The Rakhii’s spines rise.
Half hidden behind Hannah’s hand, Mick’s crest rises. Mick screams.
The Rakhii’s ears flatten.
“No need to fulfill your bargain with me,” I say quickly. “You are released from it. This animal is no longer your target.”
Hannah shoots me a vexed look that tells me we will be having a discussion of how rashly I made this appalling agreement. She is, no doubt, thinking of how deleterious this pact was for Mick—but I fear when she has time to consider the full implications, she’ll recall that I traded the freedom of a human woman and child to gain the grill order on Mick in the first place.
I acted in a heinous, nitheful manner, and I am filled with regret.
“I am sorry,” I say to everyone, shamefaced. “I should never have suggested such an arrangement.”
His rancorously raised dorsal spines lowering now that he won’t be forced to destroy a female’s pet in order to fulfill the vow that gained him a hassle-free abduction of his mate and pup, the Rakhii relaxes, the odium draining from his scaly expression.
Mouth slackened with relief, Hannah exhales a long breath and straightens, tentatively allowing Mick to leave the safety of her blocking hands. He climbs up her chest until he reaches her shoulder, where he stands to his full height, crest high, turning his head sideways so he can fully eye the Rakhii.
Xoknith is eyeing him right back. Before Hannah can bristle, I narrate, “The Rakhii isn’t hungry, Hannah.”
“Yes, I am,” Xoknith counters. His mate joins him at his side, and he wraps his arm around her small shoulders. She’s so much smaller than him, it’s a wonder she doesn’t collapse under the weight of his limb. She’s gazing at Mick intently. So is Xoknith, who says, “I’m always hungry. However, I don’t eat a female’s dear pets.” His tail is beginning to tap the floor, slowly thumping from side to side. It’s a thoughtful movement rather than a violently provoked one, so it isn’t a cause for concern. Then his pup runs out of an aisle, clutching a cat toy with colorful flowing feathers. For the first time, she spies Mick on Hannah’s shoulder and gasps, delighted.
The Rakhii turns and examines his adopted offspring’s expression, then turns an even more thoughtful look on Mick. Finally, he slides his gaze to Hannah. “May she see your animal?”
His female pokes him in his ribs.
“Please,” he adds. And one corner of his scaly mouth curves up before he turns to the female under his arm and playfully kisses her.
“My parents had a goffin cockatoo,” his mate manages to say, only halfheartedly fending Xoknith off as his attention becomes amorous.
“Oh, how cool!” Hannah cries.
Xoknith’s mate nods. “He lived to be twenty-six, and Evelyn still remembers him from when she was a toddler before he passed away.”
“Awww,” Hannah says. And she crouches down to give the pup, Evelyn, a closer look at Mick.
Minutes later, Hannah is happily showing the child how to encourage Mick to ‘dance.’ To achieve this, humans bob their heads—or jump up and down as the human pup is doing—and Mick happily begins bobbing his head and body up and down, as if dancing to silent musical beats. He also screams raucously, making the Rakhii’s ears fold tightly.
Yet the Rakhii is watching his pup and he is looking intensely pleased. Evelyn is enamored. His mate is looking wistful. And as Xoknith turns up her face to read her expression, he is intrigued. He turns to Hannah and myself. “This creature can shriek like my dam. Takes me back to when my brothers and I would wrestle inside the cave and she would scold us and send us out to fight on the lawn.” His mouth scales bunch as one side of his mouth lifts in a bittersweet smile. He leans down to hold a whispered conversation with his mate. Although I have excellent hearing, I politely tune out their words to allow them privacy. When they finish speaking, Xoknith turns his attention to Hannah. “Is this pet for sale?”
Hannah looks up, startled. She freezes in place, no longer dancing.
Mick stops dancing too, flapping his wings on her shoulder, causing her mane to blow into her face.
Pushing the tendrils back, Hannah says reluctantly, “Yes.”
“We will purchase him,” the Rakhii declares.
I step forward. “Hannah, we can purchase him. You don’t have to sell him.”
Xoknith looks between Hannah and me, then looks down at his mate.
His mate looks at Hannah. “Do you want him?”
Hannah pulls Mick off of her shoulder and hugs him. Her eyes are very glossy as she says, “It’s hard to give a parrot the amount of attention he needs when you’re raising a baby.”
I look at Xoknith’s offspring. “Evelyn isn’t an infant,” I point out. “But, Hannah, if you desire to—”
I stop. I blink.
Hannah meets my gaze and smiles, small and secretive. “I don’t know for sure. But I think I could be pregnant.”
“Aww, congratulations!” Xoknith’s mate exclaims.
“Yes, congratulations are in order,” Xoknith rumbles, looking from me to Hannah, smiling. Then he looks at Mick again before raising his eyes to Hannah’s affected expression. He tips his head. “If we purchase him, you may visit him as often as you like,” he offers solicitously. “And, if the Creator smiles on my mate and I, perhaps we will have another pup, or a litter, and you could look after Mick while we focus on our infant brood.”
At the word litter, Xoknith’s mate’s eyes go round.
“Thank you,” Hannah says mistily, petting Mick, looking a little lost.
“We have a considerable trip home, and we’re taking the same ship,” the Rakhii adds. “You’ll be able to watch Mick for me when I need to give my full attention to my mate as well.”
Hannah nods, her hands discreetly dashing away her tears.
Crossing to her, I pull her against me, and my cloak tightens as my wing tries to curl around her comfortingly. But inside, my stomach has turned leaden. “Xoknith? Have you been residing on Earth all this time?”
He shakes his head, confirming the cause of my dread.
“When did you arrive?” I ask hollowly.
“Daybreak,” he says.
And with incredible timing, another Rakhii enters the store.
It’s Zadeon.
“We know where Inara has denned,” he says by way of greeting.
Which is a far safer greeting than I anticipated he’d give me. The last time I saw him, he’d found me because he’d discovered it was my credentials that had unlocked his ship, which had allowed it to be stolen by his sister, which essentially meant that he knew that I stole his vehicle and allowed his sister to enter territory fraught with dangers and harm.
That was how he saw things.
I wasn’t blamed officially, because everyone understood I was under a compulsion to obey Inara’s orders.
But Zadeon had grabbed me when his mate and sisters-in-law weren’t looking and informed me that he would make a ship out of my innards if I didn’t get his sister back safely with his ship. And kill me, he didn’t say, but I knew was implied, since you cannot build a flight capable ship from one’s innards without causing them mortal harm. You can”t technically make a flight capable ship out of innards at all, although Zadeon may enjoy the retribution of recreationally gutting me because—like artists who shape likenesses out of clay with no expectation that their renderings will be operational—he may find he enjoys the smashing and the smearing and the slamming and the firing process of me. It could be therapeutic.
Iwon’t find it therapeutic. But I will be too dead to point out the unfairness.
“Come with us,” Zadeon says now. “You are our decoy so that the humans of this place are not alarmed by our appearance.”
Against my will, my eyes widen a fraction as they rove over his overlarge frame, his very nonhuman rack of horns, his gleaming scales, and his sharp, bared teeth. There isn’t a decoy in existence that could make Rakhii appear harmless.
But I know what his intent is. Or I assume that I do. On previous missions to Earth, hobs served as props who made the entourage of Rakhii look like costumed actors.
I look down at Hannah. “Let us ready Mick for leaving Earth. Then we need to contact our employer and inform her that she needs to take over operation of the stores. Immediately.”