A harpy tilted her head at the sight of him, the movement birdlike. “What is that?”
The woman on her right squinted. “It looks like a dog.”
She leaned forward to an impossible degree, somehow managing to keep her balance and not tumble off.
“Not possible. Dogs hate us.”
“It’s not barking. Why isn’t it barking? They always bark.”
There was an innocent expression on Alches’s face as he peered up at me. His tail wagged slightly before stopping.
“This is Alches,” I said by way of introduction. “My dog.”
Disbelief reflected in their faces.
“Are you sure that’s a dog?”
My smile was stiff. “I think I would know.”
Because he definitely wasn’t a dog.
“Dahlia won’t be happy if you chase away her customers,” I observed, changing the subject. “She’ll be even less pleased if you steal from them.”
The flock was a group of talented pick-pockets. Usually, they targeted drunk and belligerent humans on a different side of town. I was worried if they tried that here Dahlia would pluck their wing feathers and use them as stuffing for a pillow.
“She said it’s fine as long as our mark agrees,” the woman in the middle explained.
“Have any agreed?”
“Not yet.” Her smile showed her sharp teeth. “Would you care to be the first?”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
I started toward the door, knowing if I took her up on that offer, I’d lose my wallet. Maybe my keys or cell phone depending on their mood.
No thanks.
“You should leave your dog here,” a harpy suggested. “We’ll be happy to watch him for you.”
The menacing giggles that followed that statement made me roll my eyes. I had no doubt their “watching” held an entirely different meaning than my own.
Funny—I hadn’t realized harpies viewed human pets as food.
Alches stopped, looking up at me in silent question.
I shrugged, knowing he was asking for permission. “Your choice.”
The harpies’ faces brightened, anticipation showing as I ducked my head to hide my smile.
They thought they were going to get a treat, when really, they were about to be taught a lesson.
The harpies were still giggling as Alches sprung forward. He raced at the wall, reaching it in two quick bounds and using it as a spring board to jump straight up.
The harpies screeched and yanked their feet back onto the roof. Alches’s teeth closed on air. Feathers flew as they scrambled away from the edge, their mouths wide in horror.
Alches twisted in midair to get his feet under him before landing a second later.
“Still want me to leave him with you?” I asked the harpies as they huddled together in terror.
