Merstone: A Jinx Hamilton Wrecking Crew Novella by Juliette Harper

Author:Juliette Harper [Harper, Juliette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781943516421
Publisher: Skye House Publishing, LLC
Published: 2018-09-19T22:00:00+00:00

Normally I would have dropped Jilly an email, but now I understood why she used FaePost to contact me initially: no electronic trail.

Summoning the faithful Friedrich, I sent her a note asking that she meet with me and Rube that evening at The Dumpster Dive, a pub in Procyon. It wasn’t the kind of place where a bird would normally show up, but Jilly was no normal bird.

Rube and I arrived early. We snagged a booth in the back with a view of the front door so Jilly could spot us on the wing.

Heads turned when the parrot flew in the front door. She landed on the edge of our table, fanning her scarlet tail feathers with a flourish.

“Evening, boys,” she said, amber eyes sparkling. “Come here often?”

“Hiya, Doll,” Rube grinned. “Nice landing.”

“Good glide path,” she replied. “No tall patrons to get in the way. What does a lady have to do to get a drink around here?”

“Beer okay?” he asked.

“That’s fine,” she said, walking across the table and putting her back to the wall. The move wasn’t lost on me. Jilly likes to see what was coming.

Catching the barkeep’s eye, Rube pointed to the parrot, and mimed taking a drink.

The server had the consideration to bring the beer in a bowl. Jilly lapped at the brew, filling her bill before tilting her head back to swallow.

“Nice,” she said. “Good barley content.” Then she saw our expressions and offered us the avian version of a shrug. “Birds have a thing about grains.”

Rube chuckled. “Everybody’s got a thing about something, Doll. So, when was you gonna come clean that you’re a big Roman candle with feathers?”

I groaned and put my paw over my eyes. “Rube is not known for his subtlety,” I said apologetically.

To my considerable relief, Jilly laughed. “Subtlety wastes time.”

“What she said,” Rube agreed cheerfully. “Now we don’t gotta beat up the bushes.”

The parrot clacked her beak mirthfully. “Your command of the English language is a complete delight, Rube.”

“Thanks, Doll,” he beamed. “I’m known for my electrocution.”

“You do that on purpose to get laughs,” I accused.

Taking a drink, Rube feigned innocence. “No idea what you’re talking about, McGregor,” he said, “but laughing beats crying in your beer any day.”

“Here, here,” Jilly said, dipping her beak again.

With the subject now indelicately open, I said, “Why didn’t you tell me about your large form? You had to know I’d find out.”

The parrot shifted her weight. “By which time you would have become convinced that the stone does exist and thus could fully appreciate the deeper significance of keeping it from falling into the wrong hands.”

Narrowing my eyes, I said, “There’s more?”

Jilly nodded. “The artifact doesn’t affect all shifters the same way. Some of us are less stable than others. For that reason, I have a vested interest in seeing the Merstone contained.”

“We’re listening,” I said.

Jilly described what would happen if the artifact was used against a Phoenix specifically. She didn’t paint a pretty picture.

“Typically when a Phoenix experiences a regeneration, the fire lasts a few seconds and then we rise anew from the ashes.

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