A Tale of Two Goblins - By H. P. Mallory Page 0,27
years, and in that time we’d managed to assimilate with humans. While this was good for everyday purposes such as voting rights, marriage rights and non-segregated schools, it wasn’t great when it came to life and death situations, such as emergency room visits. Supposing you were a fairy or a warlock who ended up in a human-run emergency room? Yeah, you might as well be dead. Luckily for Sam, she had us looking after her.
“Yes, the last nurse to visit was a Hydra,” I answered.
Hydras were water serpents and they were known for their foul tempers, as well as their multiple heads. Luckily, this nurse just had one—I’d never been comfortable making conversation with more than one head—I never knew which one to focus on. And Hydras with two or more heads—they could argue with themselves for hours. Trying to interview one about a case wasn’t easy, much less, fun.
“Good, good,” Knight mumbled as his eyes settled on mine. The room was dead silent for a second or two, aside from the infernal beeping of the monitor.
I cleared my throat. “So, I think it’s fair to say I’m now considering this case a personal one.” My voice was sharp, as if daring Knight to argue with me. “The Dreamstalker is doing this to toy with me, to let me know I’m next.”
He was quiet for a second or two and then nodded, as if in agreement. “I think that’s safe to assume.”
“So, what are we going to do?” Trey demanded and took a step closer to me, anger flexing his voice. “We can’t let the freakazoid get anywhere near Dulcie, Knight.”
“Astute,” Knight answered him with the façade of a smile.
“I’m not gonna wait around and watch my friends get picked off one by one,” Trey finished, and I patted him on the back as if to say I wasn’t about to be picked off—that this Dreamstalker was going to have one hell of a fight on his hands.
“I’ve arranged a visit to Moon,” Knight started and cracked his knuckles. “We need to find out what the Regulators there know about this business.” One more crack of his knuckles and then he glanced at me. “Didn’t you say there was one victim’s name you didn’t recognize?”
“Yeah, the old woman.”
“Mrs. Mickelson,” Trey finished.
“Shirley, wasn’t it?” I asked.
“Yes,” Knight finished. “She lives in Moon so it’s only fair that we contact Moon’s ANC force and get them involved.”
I smiled. “I didn’t know teamwork was part of your vocab.”
Knight returned the smile. “Then I guess I’m full of surprises, aren’t I?”
“Oh, barf!” Trey interrupted, shaking his head. “You both are going to make me spew up my lunch. There should be a new rule for Regulators—no flirting.”
I didn’t correct him by saying I wasn’t really considered a Regulator anymore. No, I was too mortified that I’d been caught flirting with Knight. Flirting—it wasn’t even a word that should have been part of my vocab. Ergh.
#
It took us two and a half hours to reach Moon, thanks to the unrelenting traffic. Knight drove us in his souped-up BMW and after Trey’s comment about us flirting, I’d willingly offered him the front seat to which Knight had arched his brow but said nothing. There was definitely an elephant in the room where Knight and I were concerned, but we had bigger fish to fry so the elephant would remain.
The ANC headquarters in Moon wasn’t quite as large as our ANC headquarters but the building seemed to be newer and in much better condition. Rather than being stark white with only two windows looming out of the whiteness like a pair of angry eyes, Moon’s ANC was built entirely of bricks, warm brown in color. There were multiple windows and nothing that reminded me of the Amityville House—something that always came to mind whenever I visited our Headquarters.
Knight approached the front desk attendant while Trey and I took a seat in the waiting room—a large space with green and blue carpeting, matching upholstered chairs and an Ikea looking coffee table, overflowing with a cornucopia of magazines. Trey hobbled up to the table and inspected each magazine as if he were a pulp connoisseur. He reached out a pudgy hand, selecting his reading material and upon further inspection, I had to swallow the laugh in my throat.
“Glamour? Trey, really?”
“Don’t hate, Dulce, there are some hot ass women in these mags.” He didn’t wait for my response but opened the magazine and started shaking his head in silent appreciation,