“Dat was sweet?” I asked, a little worried I’d crushed the love of my life.
“Yes!” Baba Yaga shoved me off of her lap and made sure Poutine was still breathing. I was a big beefy guy. “You put your own life on the line to save one of my familiars.”
“Your familiars?” Poutine asked, squinting at the witch.
“That’s right,” Baba confirmed. “And as I said, you’re a bit early, but since there’s love in the air, I understand why.”
As terrified as I was at the prospect of my dame being a familiar to Carol, I was also elated. Carol and Fabio lived in Assjacket. Me and the boys lived in Assjacket. The dames would have to live in Assjacket as Carol’s familiars. That meant we had longer than a few days to woo our ladies.
“Soooooo,” Poutine said with a rude yawn. “That means we’re moving to Assjacket?”
Annie Surely and Blythe yawned as well. Blythe even added an eye roll. The broads were totally into it. It was all I could do not to take a victory lap around the room.
Baba Yaga never missed anything. She watched the silent show play out with a little smirk on her lips. “I suppose it does.”
“Whatever,” Poutine said, trying to sound disinterested. “We can make that work.”
“Excellent,” Baba Yaga said. “First mission. Find Fucking Derrick before Zelda and Mac do. Zelda has a terrible temper, and as much as I’d love to hear that the little shit was six feet under, I’ll save that wish for another time. The future of magicals is on the line.”
“We’ll stay here and watch over Henry and Audrey,” Fabio said.
“Roger dat,” I said, saluting them both. “Do youse have any clue where Fuckin’ Derrick’s hideout is?”
“Check the bridges on the outskirts of town,” Fabio instructed. “Fucking Derrick likes to hide under them. But be very careful.”
Baba Yaga clapped her hands and a mist of funky smelling rainbow glitter rained down on us. “That should help.”
Sneezing, I waved my paw to clear the stench. “What was dat?”
“Troll perfume,” she replied. “A little stinky, but it might help lure him out. Oh, shoot. Does anyone happen to speak troll?”
“Fuckin’ Derrick doesn’t speak English?” I asked, wondering how in the hell we were going to communicate with him.
Baba Yaga raised a brow. “Of course, he does, but he’s a shit and will mess with you.”
Annie Surely raised her hand. “I speak troll.”
“Me too,” Blythe said.
“Me three,” Poutine added.
The dames were coming through again. It was hot.
“Wonderful,” Baba Yaga said. “He’ll probably speak troll until you get him pissed off. When a troll gets angry enough, he will forget his native tongue.”
“Not. A. Problem,” I said with a grin as Boba and Jango chuckled. “Weese just happen to excel at pissin’ people off.”
“That you do,” Baba Yaga said with an eye roll. “Get moving. There’s no time to waste. The fate of our kind is on the line.”
The shoes were big. There was a chance we couldn’t fill them.
However, cats didn’t wear shoes.
We were going to kick ass.
Chapter Eleven
Fucking Derrick wasn’t an asshole. He was a colossal, gaping crevasse of an asshole, the likes of which I’d never come across—and I’d met some true f-in’ assholes in my life. The troll’s reputation had not been exaggerated.
“Duleakum iniuakum iniir glogzag gulouse, dussholuth,” Fucking Derrick bellowed.
He was about a foot tall and his voice was so high I was pretty sure he didn’t have nards. A bushy, wiry, gray beard covered most of his little face exposing only his crazed purple eyes. He reminded me of a compact Bigfoot with a serious attitude problem. The troll’s hands and feet were small like the rest of him, but it was clear the miniature son of a bitch was a killer.
Fucking Derrick’s bellow sounded more like a squeak, but the fact he stomped around like his clothes were on fire told the story of his fury.
“What the hell did he just say?” I asked, dodging the fireballs the jackoff was shooting out of his nose.
I avoided getting hit for the good of the troll and for the good of Assjacket. Any magic thrown at me or my boys went back on the aggressor times ten. Didn’t know if Fucking Derrick could survive that. Since I needed to shake the troll down for info, I very kindly let his fireballs hit the ground around me.
“He said, get out of my house, asshole,” Poutine replied, interpreting for the troll as she expertly evaded the arsenal coming our way.
We’d found him under the first bridge we searched. Finding the troll had turned out to be the easy part, drawing the little turd out into the open for a meaningful conversation was another thing altogether.
“Dat’s kinda rude,” Boba pointed out, eyeing the tiny maniac. “Youse should be a little nicer and maybe youse wouldn’t have to live under a bridge.”
The wee man looked like he was going to split in half he was so put out. “Shrakituth glogzag dussholuth.”
Annie Surely laughed. “He just told you to bite his asshole.”
Boba flipped the troll off. “While dat may be what youse dig, I’m not into bitin’ bungholes. Youse really need to work on your manners.”
“Yeah,” Jango added. “Weese ain’t here to off youse unless youse keep actin’ like a douche. Weese just want some intel, youse ugly mother f-er. Youse feel me?”
Fucking Derrick lost his questionably sane mind. He spit fire and flung himself on the ground. The tantrum he threw would have made a homicidal toddler proud.
“Gorotu glogakuth glogzag dusakun gutcarg. Duleakum hakosakum,” he grunted, kicking his itty-bitty legs so fast they were almost invisible.
“Umm.” Blythe shook her head and tried not to grin. “He just said that you make his ass itch and to get lost.”
While we were probably in grave danger from the idiot troll, it was difficult not to laugh.
“Piss him off more so he speaks English,” Poutine advised as she and the gals scampered in circles to avoid the poisonous darts Fucking Derrick was now
