Page 8 of The Monster of Darkspell Comics
Having some practice with pick-pocketing when necessity demands it, it isn’t too hard to make our collision seem entirely accidental. My shoulder bumps into his chest as I intersect with just enough force that he instinctively stops and drops back several steps, a meaningless apology dropping from his lips as heblinks down at me. I feign a look of surprise as I stumble back as if set completely off balance. Maybe I missed my calling—I could have been an actress.Molly Ringwald, eat your heart out.
“Sorry about that,” he says with a feigned joviality that immediately sets my teeth on edge. He reminds me of my second uncle during New Year’s family gatherings whenever he showed up with empty hands and high expectations of welcome.
“No sweat, Space Needle. I didn’t see you there,” I reply after making a production of recovering my composure, and beam cheerfully up at him. “Can I help you find anything?”
He peers down at me, his brow knitting faintly, but he shakes his head and his gaze shifts back to Chewy. “I’m actually just passing through the area. With a name like Death Canyon City, it’s hard not to stop and explore a bit. That fern, though, is something else.”
I nod to myself. That makes sense. It’s what made me venture into town rather than try my luck seeing how far I could get on the bus. Death Canyon City has an allure that is hard to resist.
“I think it’s some kind of exotic species. I’m not sure. It belongs to the boss, and he’s massively anal about not wanting anyone touching it,” I say, gesturing to the signs. “As for the town, I’m pretty new here, myself, but from what I’ve seen, the entire place is deadly to the max. Check out The Vulture’s Nest if you want some epic-level grub and drinks. The atmosphere there is excellent. There is also Reaper’s Leap. I hear it has a bodacious view of the canyon. I haven’t been yet, but it’s been highly recommended.”
Better that he takes himself there rather than try anything weird here. He is way too interested in this shop, but especially Chewy. Far too much for my comfort.”
“Reaper’s Leap, huh?” he says, his lips twitching faintly as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I will go check it out, thanks... uh...”
“Sharon,” I lie. Dude gives me major creeps; there’s no way I’m giving him my actual name. “You might find it a bit more entertaining than a comic book shop. We don’t really indulge in the touristy hype here, I’m afraid.”
“Thanks, Sharon. I’ll be back,” he says, and my skin crawls at the promise in his voice.
I shudder a little as he leaves, and I feel a tickle around my ankle. I glance down to see one of Chewy’s long, thornless vines curling around my ankle. I didn’t realize that I was that close. For a moment, my chest squeezes anxiously until I notice that the touch of the frond is whisper-soft. I regard the vine as it strokes over my skin almost lovingly before retreating. Turning, I peer back at the plant and notice several of her heads peeking through the fronds.
“Don’t worry, Chewy, I’ve got your back,” I say quietly, and several of her soft, fuzzy vines curl in something vaguely resembling heart shapes around her. I’m not sure if it’s intentional or not, but I smile. Somehow, I think I just made friends with a demonic fern. “Are you thirsty?” I ask, picking up her spray bottle.
Her numerous mouths open eagerly in reply, and I spritz, giggling quietly to myself. I know she’s dangerous. I’ve seen her thorny vines sneak out more than once when customers ventured a teeny bit too close, but I think she just might love me.
Having something terrifying love you isn’t exactly a terrible thing in my book.
Chapter 8
Pashar
Having a human pet is actually quite nice, I decide. Sadly, I can’t keep calling her “pet” or “human” without rousing suspicions among those running the mall. I’ve caught Kremble eyeing my shop more than once as she makes her rounds preparing for something called Trick or Treat Street.
I squint at the flyer she gave me to pin on the board behind my counter while my pet straightens up after the last slew of customers. I do not understand. The instructions are to don a costume and give unhealthy quantities of sugar to human offspring?
“Human, come here and take a look at this,” I snap, drawing my pet’s attention to me.
Her dark brows lower as she puts the last comic book on the shelf and heads toward me. It has only been a few days, but she has lost most of her fear of me, much to my dismay. Instead, she has been showing an increasing amount of irreverence and attitude that I plan on curtailing.
“Since there appears to be no end in sight of you ordering me around, you could just use my name,” she grumbles. “Like I told you four hours ago when ‘pet’ got old.”
I frown as I promptly lose my train of thought. She did?
“Remind me.”
I’m rewarded with the exaggerated roll of her eyes that is as annoying as it is ridiculously amusing. “Fanny,” she huffs andleans forward to peer at the flyer behind me, her ass tipping in the air.
I stare at its delectable curve, my tongue snaking over my lips as I imagine sinking my teeth right into it. And then blink.
“Fanny?” What a peculiar name.
She shoots me a sharp look, the long tail of her gathered curls grazing my arm with the turn of her head. Her lithe, little body is suspended over the counter so close to me that it would take little to no effort to pull her toward me—or push her over onto her ass, however the impulse at the moment drives me.
“Yes,” she bites out. “As in a fanny, and if you think you have any lame butt jokes, I’ve heard them all. It’s short for Francine, but I can’t stand that name either,” she grumbles, her attention returning to the flyer.
The annoyance on her face shifts to one of curiosity, and I eye her, trying not to enjoy the natural perfume of her body mixed with whatever annoyingly sweet substance she seems to be constantly chewing.
“Oh.”
