Page 23 of Delinquent Dette
Sten glanced from the address to Frikka. “I miss when you just killed them.”
“We can still kill him. But first? The floppy penises.” Frikka nodded sagely.
“What sort of message is big floppy penises to that slag?” Sten sniffed indignantly.
“We will fuck you to death!” A wide grin dominated his Dette’s face.
“Frikka, I love you more dearly than I love anything. But this is not a message. This is a box of penises.” Sten sighed. “We can send them dung or something. Maybe a disease.”
“I wish to give them lice. And the bugbeds.”
“Bugbeds?” Sten puzzled. “Væggelus?”
“Yes, those.” Frikka waved his hand about. “The bugbeds.”
“Those are bedbugs. They bite asses and infect things like sexually transmitted cockroaches.”
“I think those are the crabs.” Frikka frowned. “Little hard-shelled sand creatures. You might think humans just pick a craboff. They have shampoos and things like they move back in and build little penis hair castles.”
“Maybe that is a different kind of crab…” Sten frowned and pulled out his phone. “Hallr would know!”
“It is two in the morning! Don’t call Hallr.” Frikka reached for Sten’s phone and flailed.
“He has nine pups. He is not sleeping. I promise.” Sten held Frikka back and let the phone ring. A grumbling voice answered on the second one—“Hallr!”
“What?”Hallr didn’t sound happy as Sten put the phone on speaker.
“When you have sex and get the crabs. How do you get rid of them?”
Silence followed. Then a click. The call ended.
“See, you woke him.” Frikka rolled his eyes. “I wish for us to give him the penis crabs, too.”
“If it will make you happy. I will do anything.” Sten leaned down and kissed Frikka. “Leave it to me.”
***
Sten woke at a gods-forsaken hour, his phone ringing.Who calls before noon on a Wednesday?
It was Odin’s day, the greatest day of the week! Next to Friday, Freya’s day. Freya’s day was for Dettes though.
“I’m going to regret asking this, butwhydid Frikka mail a box of dead shellfish and dildos to the Canadian Loch consulate?” Sile Long, the American council head, sighed exasperatedly into the receiver.
“Frikka asked me to give this man crabs. I got the smallest ones to live on his tiny penis. Besides, they were alive when I sent them… Should have maybe added ice or something.” Sten sighed.
“I miss when he just killed them…” Sile’s voice lowered, his tone almost wistful.
“Me, too.” Sten glanced out the living room window and watched Frikka sunning himself in a grassy patch, all smooth pale lines in his human form. “Sile? What do I do?”
“Get a textbook and learn about venereal diseases, one would hope.” The Chinese dragon never really had great ideas. He knew how to gather power, though.
“I mean about Frikka. It’s like he’s afraid to do the last one. Should I do it?” Sten stared out and couldn’t bury the love and joy he held.
“You and I have much in common, Nielsen. Shui was a prince of his clan. Frikka was a jarl’s son. I was a lowly soldier, from a subservient family to the crown. My family was no better than shifters to them. And I stood in service to my clan leader, meeting with Nidhoggs to discuss trading their Dette son. And a foolhardy Drake with more hair than common sense and barely any Mandarin to speak of gave me a single crumpled flower in a glass vial. We got stinking drunk talking about this new world and the rail that was coming—one that I invested every penny I had in—and that was history, no?” Sile’s voice held a fondness to it that Sten would never mistake.
“My Mandarin is still bad!”
“And I got my prince. He still wears that copper on a necklace. You’ve more patience than any Drake I’ve ever met. Wait to make any moves, and for fuck’s sake, do not send any more dildos or shellfish to the Lochs. Are we clear? And please don’t use my name and address as the return shipping.” Sile grumbled. “I owe you much, and I’ll pay you back in full. I promise.” Sile hung up and Sten stared at the phone.Waitwas the last thing he wanted to be told. He’d done it for over two hundred years.
