Druid Apprentice by M.D. Massey

Author:M.D. Massey [Massey, M.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Modern Digital Publishing
Published: 2019-09-06T05:00:00+00:00

13

The first thing I did when I left Maeve’s house was call Fallyn. While the faery queen hadn’t been clear on exactly who was after me, I didn’t have to be a mindreader to know it was bad. After getting Fallyn’s voicemail for the third time, I started calling the clubhouse every five minutes, hoping that Samson would get back before I lost my mind.

I hit redial again, and someone picked up on the other end.

“For the last time, Colin—he’s not fucking here!”

“Mitzy, wait—”

Click.

I called back but got a busy signal, which meant that Mitzy had taken the phone off the hook. They still had old school phones at the clubhouse, since Samson was about as tech-savvy as an Amish farmer with an EMF allergy, and twice as cheap. The last time any technology had gotten updated at Pack HQ, Ronald Reagan was still eating jelly beans in the Oval Office. At a loss for what to do, I dialed Maureen.

“So, how’d yer visit with that fecking monk go?”

“I’ll have to give you the details later. Maureen, I think Fallyn is in trouble, and I can’t get a hold of Samson to find out if I’m freaking out for nothing.”

“Trouble ya’ say—as in fae trouble?”

I briefly explained what had happened, painting the situation in broad strokes for brevity’s sake.

“Aye, lad, that sounds fishy. Hang on.” I heard talking in the background. “The Seer says to come back to the junkyard so we kin figger it out. ’Sides, ya’ got company, and frankly I don’t like the look o’ the bastards. One’s clearly daft and the other—well, just get back quick ’afore they scare off our customers.”

“Shit, I forgot Hideie was coming today. Alright, I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

Minutes later I pulled up to the junkyard, only to find Hideie and Click squaring off in the parking lot. Hideie had glamoured himself to look human, thankfully. The amused expression he wore said he was taking things a lot less seriously than the quasi-god standing across from him.

Oh boy, he’s in one of his moods. Time to defuse this situation, before he sends Hideie back to feudal Japan.

Click had the sleeves of his leather jacket pushed back, and he was dancing around with his dukes up like an old-time boxer. “Take it back, ya’ feather-brained, top-knotted dimwit, or I’ll knock yer block off!”

Thankfully there were no customers around, but there were a few unfamiliar cars in the lot, which meant we had people in the yard pulling their own parts. Maureen had stormed off toward the stacks as I pulled in, presumably to keep any visitors away from the parking area until I defused the situation. And Finnegas? The old man was kicked back on a plastic lawn chair, a cigarette in one hand and a cold longneck in the other, enjoying the show.

Click circled the tengu, all the while hurling the most ridiculous insults—“sheep-headed fuck-funnel” had to be my favorite. Hideie appeared to take it in stride, but

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