“Oh, crap. Is that the time? I’m gonna be late for work.”
CHAPTER13
Jenny
The bell on the door announced our first customer the next morning. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with bright blue eyes and wavy blond hair to the middle of his back. He had a thick build: layers of fat over layers of hard muscle. Abalone beads decorated his braided beard.
I turned to Ronnie, who was sitting by the window, reading a book on Salem’s history while downing an energy drink. His eyes were bleary and half closed, and his hair was a lopsided, pillow-mussed mess.
“No food or beverages around the books,” I reminded him. “Go check the back of the stock room for me. You’ll see a shelf labeled special orders. I need the brown paper bag labeledEvasson.”
He smothered a yawn and stood. “Great. I’ve been promoted to stock boy.”
“You wish. Stock boys get paid.” I waited for him to leave, then stepped out from behind the counter. “Good morning, Hjálmar!”
Hjálmar Evasson chuckled and gave me a quick hug. “New employee?”
“Something like that.”
“You should put him to work repainting. The trim out front is looking a bit old and chipped.”
I tried to keep my worry from showing. First the basement, now the trim. We should check the whole place over from top to bottom to see what else might be weakening. I’d talk to Temple about it once he woke up.
Ronnie returned carrying a small bag. He handed it to me, keeping well clear of Hjálmar. “You know he’s a selkie, right?”
Hjálmar folded his arms, which were roughly the same size as Ronnie’s thighs. “What of it, boy?”
“Hjálmar is an old friend,” I said firmly. “And a paying customer.”
“I’ve studied selkies and their attacks on humans through the centuries.” Ronnie’s free hand twitched toward the inside of his jacket.
“Take it easy.” I put a hand on his elbow and squeezed just hard enough to remind him I could dislocate the joint with two fingers if he threatened my guest.
“If you know the stories, you know humans have a history of taking our women.” Hjálmar sounded cheerful as ever, but his eyes had narrowed, and his meaty hands curled into not-quite-fists. “Stealing their sealskins and trapping them in their human forms.”
“The actions of a few pathetic, lonely men don’t justify sinking human ships and drowning whole crews,” said Ronnie.
Hjálmar’s nostrils flared. “But you’re gonna blame all selkies for the actions of a few grief-stricken families who avenged their lost loved ones?”
“I’m saying your kind has a history of murdering—”
“Nobody’s murdering anyone today,” I said firmly. I handed Hjálmar the bag. “This should help with your eczema.”
“Hey, now,” he protested. “What happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?”
“I’m not a doctor.” To Ronnie, I said, “Hjálmar comes in twice a month during the spring and summer for a special skin cream. Being out of the water for too long makes him break out.”
As I’d hoped, Ronnie relaxed slightly. It was harder to see someone as a threat while you were discussing their rashes.
I turned to Hjálmar. “This puffed-up blowfish is Ronnie Kensington. He and I had a misunderstanding of the violent kind. It didn’t go well for him. Between me, Annette, and Temple, we’re hoping to knock the stupid out of him before he gets himself killed.”
Ronnie huffed and rolled his eyes but didn’t argue the point.
“You picked a fight with Jenny Winter?” asked Hjálmar. “You must be a special kind of bonehead.”
“I’m the last of the Kensington line,” Ronnie said stiffly. “I was born to protect this world against—”
“Ah, I get it.” Hjálmar smirked. “He’s a nepo baby.”
