Rubbing One Out - Susan Mac Nicol Page 0,39
to sleeping in Ben’s bed almost every night because he “needed Ben’s inert energy” while he slept to boost his magic.
Ben thought that was an excuse, but he wasn’t going to argue. Being a human battery was kind of fun.
He squinted at his phone and frowned as he answered. “Alison? What’s wrong?” It was three in the morning and Ben knew with a sense of dread the vet wouldn’t be calling him unless there was a dire reason.
“Ben? I’m so sorry to call you, but we have a bit of an emergency. Honey’s not well. I’ve been called out to see her, and Ben…” her voice choked up, “it’s not looking good.”
Ben swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, switching on his bedside light. “What kind of situation are we talking about?” In her basket in the corner of the room, Tess opened her eyes and stared at him groggily, then huffed and went back to sleep.
She was quiet for a few seconds then said, “Aspergillosis. I’m not a hundred percent sure but the symptoms are there.”
Ben’s heart sunk when he’d heard her words. Aspergillosis was a common avian disease of note: a fungal infection that could lead to death if not treated quickly. While not contagious from bird to bird, it meant that the rest of the colony might be infected with spores from the source and they’d need to be quarantined.
He stood and rummaged around for his clothes. As he pulled on his jeans, hopping from one leg to the other to stay balanced, Dae sat up, blinking sleepily.
“What’s wrong? Are you going somewhere?”
Ben nodded. “There’s a problem with one of the birds at the zoo. Remember Honey, the annoying bird who never does what she’s told? She may have aspergillosis.”
Dae blinked. “Asper what now?”
Ben pulled on his tee-shirt and looked around for his jumper. From the sound of the wind against the windows, it was cold out there. “It’s a fungal disease in birds. It shouldn’t be something we see at the zoo because we’re damned careful about how we look after them. But that doesn’t mean it’s completely eradicated. Shit, where’s my fucking jumper?”
He swore as he stubbed his toe on the foot of the bed. Shit, that hurt. Something soft hit him across the back of his head. His jumper. Ben turned around to see Dae’s sympathetic gaze. His lover stood naked beside the bed and even in his current state of angst, Ben could appreciate Dae’s lithe body.
“Thanks.” He pulled on the warm bit of clothing and picked up his phone. “I need to get off to the zoo. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Even as he said the words, Ben marvelled he had someone he could say that to. He’d been so long on his own. It was rather a novelty having someone to call and give an update. Even if it were an otherworldly Djinn who would no doubt soon be going back to his own palatial home.
“Drive safely,” Dae murmured. “I hope your bird is going to be all right. With you looking after him, she has a good chance.”
“Thanks,” Ben said gruffly. “See you later.”
He jogged out of the bedroom, picked up his keys from the kitchen table, and was soon speeding his way towards Honey.
***
When Ben barrelled into the vet surgery, Alison looked at him gratefully. The surgery was warm, the antiseptic and musky animal scent hitting Ben’s nostrils. It was a familiar, comforting smell, and Ben tried to smile at the vet as he walked over to the table where Honey lay. She peered at him with bleary eyes and there was no sign of the troublemaking penguin Ben knew and loved.
“Glad you could come.” Alison reached out and patted Honey’s flank. “She’s holding her own. I’m waiting for some tests back from my colleague, but I’m scared for her. She’s not eating, she’s listless, and struggling to breathe. Look at that.” She pointed to Honey’s beak. “Open-mouthed, trying to get air.”
Ben stroked the bird’s feathers gently, letting his long-time nemesis know he was there. “Sounds like it could be aspergillosis. How the heck did it happen here? We make sure their husbandry is suitable. We meet all the requirements to avoid this sort of disease.”
Alison shrugged helplessly. “Things can happen. Bad luck, I guess. I’ve had all the other birds moved into the spare enclosure for the night. They weren’t too happy, I can tell you. Poor Adam had his