An artist that could tattoo stone skin was rare. If they chased me out, who would give them the tattoos they loved so much?
The computer that I kept at work was too small for my talons, forcing me to have to hunt and peck as I sent invoices off and double checked the ones that had come back.
After that, I checked my email and found one from Ronan, another Wingless that I’d known for a long time. Like most Wingless, he was a little cracked in the head. Unlike me, he barely used any technology at all. The computer I’d set him up with last time I visited him was the only thing he used and it was usually only to email me or play Tetris. He also had an old landline that had seen better days that he rarely touched.
My eyes skimmed the body of the email, and found most of it to be a rambling mess. I’d probably need to make a drive out to Las Vegas to check on him soon. When I saw him a year ago he seemed okay, but now he was writing about a clan that had moved into Vegas and was trying to push him out.
They couldn’t do that. Vegas, like Port Haven, was a supernatural sanctuary, the biggest in the United States. Any monster who wanted to live there was rightfully able to do so, gargoyle politics aside.
I wanted to respond back to his email immediately, but there was no way I’d be able to convey what I wanted to say if I had to do it on this tiny keyboard. My computer back home was more suited to my size, so I’d wait until then to try and soothe him.
The sound of the office door opening again made my ears prick up.
“Are you sure about offering me the job?” the woman asked, her voice still soft.
Then Effie’s much louder one followed it. “Of course! You seem organized and if someone doesn’t fix that desk soon I’m going to light it on fire.”
Footsteps echoed down the hallway and then the sound of the bell tinkling filled the shop again.
Once I was sure the human was gone, I stood and made my way to the front, remembering to duck this time as I stepped into the waiting room.
“You hired her?” I asked incredulously, crossing my arms over my chest.
Effie rolled her eyes at me. “Yes, I hired her. She needs a job, we need a receptionist. It’s a match made in heaven.”
“But she’s a human. A scared one at that,” I insisted with a shake of my head.
“Despite your grumpy ass face, I don’t think it was you that she was scared of,” Effie told me with a scoff. “Now help me clear off the desk so our new receptionist doesn’t run screaming from the building tomorrow.”
I wanted to argue with her some more, but her words stopped me. “What do you mean it’s not me she’s scared of?”
Effie never got the chance to answer because the shop door opened and the rest of our staff stumbled inside.
Monstrous Ink didn’t have a particularly large staff, but we were all definitely different from one another. The group walking in was made up of a hipster Cthulhu, a dark elf with a chip on his shoulder, a satyr with a man bun, and a golden retriever of a lycanthrope. It was like the set up of a cheesy joke.
“There you are, you all were supposed to be back two hours ago,” Effie scolded, planting a hand on her hip.
Dallan broke away from the group, his golden eyes on Effie as the tentacles on his face twitched—his version of a cheeky grin. “We stopped at the pub for a few pints.”
Despite spending the past hundred years stateside, Dallan’s Scottish brogue was still as strong as ever. Even stronger than my Irish accent which had faded ever since I was banished from my clan.
“A few pints?” Effie asked, one slender green brow lifting. “That’s what took you two hours?”
“And a few rounds of pool,” Heath chimed in from the back. His words were followed by a doggish yelp as either Fiero or Ambrose elbowed him.
Effie’s arms crossed over her chest. I took two steps back, gearing up for the hurricane that was an Effie-Dallan argument.
But then, surprisingly, the nymph just shook her head and sighed. “Fine, but that means it’s going to take us all night to replenish our ink supply.”
I watched the spots on Dallan’s face move and shift, deepening in color. “Fine,” he rumbled.
Effie gestured for the man to follow her, shooting one last sharp look at the gathered trio still standing in front of the door.
“Also, I hired a new receptionist. A human,” I heard her say to him as they headed together down the hallway toward the stairs.
“A human? What’d you do that for?” Dallan’s voice echoed down to us.
“Why the fuck did Effie hire a human?” Ambrose asked me, scrunching his long elven nose.
