"Esther M. Friesner - At These Prices" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

Radiating suspicion, Bella frowned at the two women in their cheap cotton
dresses, the two men in their white, short-sleeved shirts and plain black trousers.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
“Bixby, ma’am.” The reply came in four-part harmony, as if it were the most
natural request in the world.
 “Bix—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bella said quickly.
“The hell you don’t!” the smaller woman snapped.
“Selina, such language!” The other female clapped her hands to her ears.
“Ahhh, get over it, Mel,” Selina replied. “We didn’t come here to play
pattycake with this brownie-stealing bimbo.” She scowled at Bella. “We watched the
hotel surveillance tapes so we know he left with you. Cough ‘im up, Toots!”
“Sorry, not interested, got all the crazy I need, ‘bye now.” Bella shut the door
swiftly, only to be thwarted by a size 14-EEEE foot wedged between the panel and
the jamb. Naturally enough, it belonged to the bigger of the two men. She gave him
an icy look. “All right, what are you?”
The shorter man stepped forward. “Good day to you, ma’am. My name is
Berry, and these are my friends and associates, Tom, Selina, and Melusine.”
“I didn’t ask who you were,” Bella replied tartly. “I asked what. I know all
about the special staffing arrangements at Tiernan House hotels.”
“Do you, now.” Berry’s pleasant smile turned sour. “Ma’am, we’d be happy
to remove our glamours. We’re not ashamed of our natural forms. However, your
neighbors might not react well to seeing us as we are. May we come in? Merely to
talk, I assure you. We’ll do you no harm. You have my oath as an engineer.” Berry
snapped his fingers and an ancient slide-rule appeared in his hand. He kissed it
reverently before banishing it to realms invisible.
“Just a second.” Bella ducked back inside her apartment for a moment.
“Swear on this and I’ll believe you.” She held out a small electric coffee bean
grinder.
The four exchanged a look of wide-eyed apprehension. In a faltering voice,
Melusine asked, “How did you know about the blesséd—the blesséd—?”
“The blesséd Mill?” Bella chuckled. “I’m a fast learner and Bixby’s a good
teacher. Swear on it, or stay in the hall.”
The larger man scowled. “Can’t say as I favor yer attitude,” he said. “Like my
old Dad used to say t’ me, he’d say, ‘Tom, seeing as how we’re trolls, Bad
Attitude’s kinda Standard Optivating Proceed-thingie for us. But that’s no reason
you got to take it from a dab o’ mortal meat you can smash into paste ‘thout a
second thought, mostly cause us trolls got enough trouble layin’ hands on a first
thought.’ Good ol’ Dad!”
With that, Tom dropped the glamour upon him and stood revealed in all his
monstrous glory. His street clothes vanished. Every hulking muscle, wart, and tusk,
every talon and square inch of skin the color of a lichen-crusted boulder, all
blossomed on Bella Franklin’s doorstep, topped by a spiffy blue cap embroidered
with the words hotel security. A monumental roar broke from his leathery lips. It
shook the floor, curled and crispy-fried the edges of the cheap hallway carpeting,
and brought down a shower of plaster from the ceiling.
It also fetched Mrs. Kenmore from across the hall. The old lady took one
look at Tom in his natural state, squealed like a mouse in a hamburger press, and
slammed the door hard enough to cause a second blizzard of plaster flakes.
Bella clucked her tongue. “Now look what you did.” Unfazed by the troll, she
turned her head and called over one shoulder: “Hey, Bixby! I’ve got another job for