Maudlin's Mayhem (Bewitching Bedlam #2)(10)
“Gillymack, what the hell are you doing here?” Everybody knew that he had an allergy to work and basically lived off the begrudging charity of others.
He rolled his eyes. The Meré were tasty to look at, at least in their human forms, but I knew better than ever tangle with one on a romantic level. They were selfish lovers and they also had a nasty tendency to pass along STDs—not the usual kind, either. Fishrot and brine-itch were two of the most common, and both required hefty doses of antibiotics to clear up.
“Sheriff ordered me to pay restitution for a little accident that I had last week. She also made it a condition of my release that I earn the money myself. So I’m stuck with the day-drag for a few weeks until I can make seven hundred dollars to pay off the Hoffmans.”
I tried to suppress a laugh. The Hoffmans owned a beach house down by the shore of Bedlam City Park, a dawn-till-dusk beach park. “What did you do?”
“I might have gotten pie-eyed and crashed, uninvited, at their place for a few hours.” He grinned at me, and his lifeguard good looks gave him a roguish, please-trust-me vibe. “Say, Maddy—you wouldn’t by chance have some work I can do to pay off my fine in a less…banal way, would you?”
That did make me snort. “The fact that you know the word ‘banal’ is good for a tip, but no, Gillymack, I am not fronting you the money, and I am not hiring you. I bet you did more than break in to their house. What did you steal? And I’ll have a triple-shot chocolate thunder mocha.”
He put in the order. “Please pull through to the window ahead.”
As I eased forward—there was a line forming behind me—I quickly searched my purse for a stray ten-dollar bill. I wasn’t about to hand him my credit card. I didn’t trust him, even if he handled it in plain sight the entire time.
When I got to the window, he handed me the drink and I gave him the tenspot. “Keep the change. So, tell me, what on earth did you do to warrant a seven-hundred-dollar fine?”
He shrugged, winking. “I might have taken a pisser on their designer sofa. But hey, I was asleep. I didn’t know what I was doing.”
And that was classic Gillymack. As I choked down a cough and drove off, I thought once again how much more entertaining it was to live in Bedlam than back in Seattle.
AFTER A STOP at Freddie’s—a chain department store—I eased into a spot by the dry cleaner’s. Aegis had asked me to pick up his leather pants. He owned more than one pair, but as he said, you just can’t wear leather pants more than a few days in a row without them becoming ripe. Even though he didn’t sweat, they picked up his scent and trust me, vampire balls and dick? Give off a heady lusty scent, indeed.
The Boys of Bedlam had a gig coming up in a week at the Rainbow Dance Machine—a new club. They usually played at the Utopia, but Jack-Az, the owner, was on his annual pilgrimage to his home in the Black Forest. Black Forest as in Germany. The crusty old bear shifter didn’t trust anybody else to run the joint while he was going, so the Utopia was closed for the month of March.
I picked up the pants, dropped off my ritual gown, and chatted for a few minutes with the owner. As I came out of the shop, I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I ran right into a woman who was passing by, tripping her up.
“Pardon me, I’m sorry!” I knelt by the prone woman. She was pale as cream, with jet black hair and ruby lips, and as she pushed herself up, I couldn’t help but stare. She had the biggest boobs I’d ever seen. I was big, but she had to be a J-cup at least.
She cleared her throat. “Eyes up here, girlie.”
I shook my head, blushing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Pausing, I finally found my words. “I didn’t mean to trip you up. Here, can I help you?”
I held out my hand and she took it, leveraging herself to her feet. She was too thin for those breasts, I thought. Either they were silicone or she wasn’t human. She was also wearing the weirdest outfit I had seen in a long time, and I had seen just about everything.
She had on a mid-calf poufy skirt. The skirt was red, and over it, she was wearing a black dirndl apron, and a white shirt. A big blue bow was affixed to the top of her hair, looking way too goofy to even try to pass for the Lolita look. White knee socks and black patent Mary Janes completed the slightly deranged, cartoonish look. As she brushed herself off, I tried not to stare.
“Are you hurt? I hope I didn’t—”
“No, I’m not hurt. I’ve got so much material in this skirt I’d be well padded if I fell off a cliff.” She paused, frowning. “You have a cigarette?”
Maybe it was time to back away slowly. “Um, no, I don’t smoke. If you’re all right—”
“Then maybe you can point me to the nearest hotel. My friends and I need a place to stay for a few days while we’re here on…a job. Our host told us to find a hotel because his is fully booked.” She let out a sigh as if the weight of the world had just landed on her shoulders.
I tried to keep my mouth shut. I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t, but somehow I found myself opening my lips and the words just tumbled out. “I own a bed-and-breakfast. The Bewitching Bedlam. I have two open rooms. Possibly three.”
While Mr. Mosswood was still at the B&B, two days back, old Mrs. Periwinkle had suddenly sprung the news that she had bought a house and was leaving for home to complete arrangements before moving to Bedlam. The house happened to be next door to me, so she was going to be my neighbor. The news both delighted me and made me worry. The slightly addled Mrs. Periwinkle was going to have a working kitchen, including a gas range.