Page 1 of Did It Have To Be Gnomes?!
Chapter One
Miles
“That’s a good birdie. That’s it. Stay nice and calm, and we won’t have any problems, okay?” I slowly stepped closer, keeping my voice as quiet and not-scary as possible. “Oh, that’s a good girl. She’s such a good birdie.” Okay, so I was totally using a baby voice, and I couldn’t help it. She was so damn cute. And so damn scared. “That’s a pretty birdie.”
I lifted my net. So close. So fucking close.
Crreeeeaaaakk.
“Are you almost—”
Squaaaaaaawwk!
The firebird leapt from her perch, and I had to duck out of the way or I would’ve gotten a beak to the face and flames in my hair.
The owner of the house we were in—also known as Impatient Asshole—screamed and slammed the attic door shut. What a dick. I told him to wait downstairs until I caught the damn thing.Gah. Why was it always people who caused the most trouble? People sucked, dammit.
“It’s okay, birdie.” I winced. She was so not okay.Fuck you, Impatient Asshole.
The poor bird was squawking away and flying in a circle around the small space. Her gorgeous red and orange wings had small flames at the ends of her feathers, and I winced every time her wings brushed close to the attic ceiling—thewoodenattic ceiling. She was almost too big to even turn in here, but unfortunately for her, I already sealed up all her exits so she had nowhere to go.
I could’ve scared her out of hiding before sealing things up, but then she would’ve just gone into someone else’s house or to the nearby park, and those weren’t safe places for her.
They say firebirds bring good luck, especially if you had one of their feathers. But all that meant was that she was in danger of people hunting her down and plucking all her feathers out—as crazy as that sounded, I’d seen it done before. Many times.
And from the scars on her back where her feathers hadn’t grown back, I was pretty sure she’d already suffered at the hands of humans because of that tale. Whether it was true or not, I didn’t know, because I wasn’t an asshole who’d pluck an innocent bird’s feathers out for something as ridiculous as good luck.
I mean, what the hell did good luck even mean?
Would it bring you riches and power? Or did it mean that when you were walking down the street, you didn’t step on thechewed-up piece of gum and get it stuck to your shoe? It could be anything in between. How would you even know it was working?
Stupid, sucky people.
So no, I would never ever in a million years pluck one of her feathers.Never.
But she didn’t know that. She saw me as the same predator that’d hurt her before.
No wonder she didn’t trust me.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m not gonna hurt you,” I cooed to the firebird, but it made no difference.
She just kept flying in circles and even squawked at me, the poor baby.
Plus, for all I knew, she’d had run-ins with other exterminators, most of whom would’ve tried to kill her to get her out of someone’s home or business, despite their endangered species status and the fact that legally, they were supposed to do catch and release. I knew a lot of the exterminators in this city didn’t give even one shit about that fact. It infuriated me.
But I wasn’t like other exterminators.
Yeah, I got paranormal creatures out of people’s homes, but I was a trap and release kind of guy. I didn’t do poisons or kill traps, no matter how much easier—and cheaper—that would be for me. The thought of killing hundreds or even thousands of little creatures every week was absolutely horrifying and not something I had an interest in.Ever.
I’d take less money over murder.
But that was just me. Unfortunately, I was the only trap and release place anywhere in my entire county. Because again, my mantra—people sucked.
“Come on, girl. It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.”
She squawked again and flew in a faster circle, and I sighed. Apparently, my voice was freaking her out even more. This poor sweetheart.
This time when I spoke, I tried to let my natural magic ooze into my words. Empathy magic tended to have a calming effect, as long as I was calm when I was releasing it.
