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    Pet Shop Boys: A Short Story
    Pet Shop Boys: A Short Story
    Pet Shop Boys: A Short Story
    Ebook91 pages1 hour

    Pet Shop Boys: A Short Story

    By Kim Harrison

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    From bestselling author Kim Harrison comes this original short story (to be featured in her anthology Into the Woods, October 2012) where things are most definitely not as they seem. A pet shop employee’s innocent date with a customer quickly turns disturbing rather than delightful. She and her family hold a centuries-old secret, and they want him to stay with them forever . . .

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateSep 4, 2012
    ISBN9780062237682
    Pet Shop Boys: A Short Story
    Author

    Kim Harrison

    The only girl in a large family of boys, former tomboy Kim Harrison invented the first Brigadier General Barbie in self-defence. She shoots a very bad game of pool and rolls a very good game of dice. When not at her keyboard, she enjoys lounging on the couch with a bowl of popcorn watching action movies with The-Guy-In-The-Leather-Jacket. She plays her Ashiko drum when no one is listening, and is hard to find when the moon is new.

    Read more from Kim Harrison

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    Reviews for Pet Shop Boys

    3.5/5

    44 ratings3 reviews

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    • 3/5
      Bah. I was kind of hoping there wouldn't be vampires and there wouldn't be a person trained in supernatural defense.

      In other words, I was hoping it wouldn't be a traditional urban fantasy, and be more of a horror novel. Sigh. I should have known better.
    • 3/5
      This short tale was interesting but did not wow me. I know that if Ms. Harrison followed through with the series she would rock it out and thrill us all. I did not read the first chapter of the next book.
    • 5/5
      I love this author & her books are always a pleasure to read. I have read all of the Rachel Morgan series & it's my all-time favorite paranormal series ever!

    Book preview

    Pet Shop Boys - Kim Harrison

    PET SHOP BOYS

    A Short Story

    KIM HARRISON

    Harper_Imprint_Logos.jpg

    CONTENTS

    Cover

    Title Page

    Introduction

    One

    Two

    Three

    An Excerpt from Ever After

    The Undead Pool: An Excerpt

    Chapter 2

    About the Author

    Books by Kim Harrison

    Copyright

    About the Publisher

    INTRODUCTION

    I originally wrote Pet Shop Boys as one of two possibilities for an anthology. I don’t submit to many anthologies, but this group came to me through my agent, impressed with my Dawn Cook titles, and asked me to try my hand at writing about vampires. This was before the dual nature of Kim and Dawn had been revealed, and I was so tickled they asked that my automatic no turned into a yes. I worked up two shorts, trying to get as far away from the Hollows vampire mythology as I could. Under the advice of my agent that Pet Shop Boys had the potential to become a series, I retained it to sit in my cabinet until now.

    I’ve long loved the idea of the fey living in a world twin to ours, passing through to snare the unwary when the veil was the thinnest. Bringing vampires into the mix was the icing on the cake.

    ONE

    "Good luck with the puppy," Cooper called as the boy leaned back against the glass door, the bells ringing as he tried to push it open. It wasn’t until the boy’s dad lent a hand that the night air slipped in with a dusting of snow and they got outside, their new bundle of yaps and wet spots on the carpet wiggling in the boy’s arms.

    And have a merry Christmas, he muttered as the door jingled closed behind them. He didn’t like selling dogs and cats when there were strays that needed homes, but the owner, Kay, insisted on always having dogs, and sometimes cats. The Lab pup was the last of the litter, and the shop now felt empty without the soft snuffing and hush of paws on newspaper.

    Tired, Cooper rubbed the back of his neck, head bowed as he came around the counter to hang up the six collars the father and boy had been deciding between. Snatching a fold of newspapers, he knelt by the open-topped mesh corral to wad up the used paper and lay new for the next litter. The bubbling of the fish tanks and twittering of finches slowly returned the pet shop into the peaceful haven that had convinced him to work here at minimum wage instead of taking the professor’s assistant job he’d turned down three years ago.

    Kay might have had something to do with it, though. Sex in jeans with her own money, she seemed to enjoy his company but kept him totally at arm’s length. He didn’t get it. Every time he was tempted to bag it, she gave him just enough encouragement to stay. God, he was a chump. He didn’t want to be thirty and still cleaning up someone else’s dog crap.

    Grimacing, he rose to throw the papers away, pushing through the sheets of milky plastic that separated the back room from the store. The storage room/office was cold—it had been snowing all day with only the dog people coming in since it had become dark. He was tempted to flick the Closed sign around early, but Kay would give him hell for closing before eight.

    It’d give me an excuse to talk to her, he thought as he trashed the papers and grabbed the disinfectant spray. Kay spent most of her time in the back when she was in. Cooper was the one who actually ran the place—except for the dogs. Kay brought them in from some exclusive breeder. The cats were from a local shelter.

    The warmth of the store was welcoming as he slipped back through the plastic curtain. A quick spray, and the round kennel was clean, all evidence of the dog erased under the scent of bleach. Cooper straightened with a sigh. Twenty-five and a pet shop geek. He’d swear Kay wasn’t gay—the occasional flirting suggested otherwise. Maybe it was him.

    The sudden whirling of the birds in their cages brought his head up, and the hair on the back of his neck pricked. Feeling like winter had slipped in under the door, Cooper turned to the big plate-glass windows dark with night and the peaceful falling snow in the streetlight. His eyes widened at the little girl, no more than nine, standing in the middle of the aisle: white tights, little black shoes, and a coat made of black fur. Her vividly red hair was straight under a matching fur hat, and her hands were hidden in a muff.

    Oh! Hi! Cooper stammered, pitching his voice high as he looked for a parent. You surprised me! How long have you been in here? She must have come in while he was in the back, but he hadn’t heard the bells ring.

    The little girl beamed. Did I? she said cheerfully, seeming to think it funny to have scared a grown-up. May I see the kittens?

    Cooper nodded as he set the spray bottle on a back counter, trying to hide his annoyance. He liked kids, but not when their parents dropped them off as if he was a babysitter—especially fifteen minutes to closing. Sure, but don’t let them out, okay?

    Huffing a sigh of preteen independence, she strode confidently to the multistory cat cage. Crouching, she made a tiny trill of sound, and two gray heads and one black one popped up from the sleeping pile. The kittens fell over themselves to reach her, pressing against the mesh and meowing. They like me, she said shyly, endearing as she glanced at him with her green eyes.

    Cooper stood with his arms over his chest and looked at his watch. He couldn’t kick her out. It was cold outside. Is your mom around, sweetheart? he asked. There was a discount store across the street, but it was closed. Maybe the bar down the way. The girl seemed as if she was used to being alone.

    I want the black one. She looked up, her hair framing an almost triangular face and lips too red for such a little girl, fingers pushed into the cage as far as she could get them. She looks like me.

    Cooper dropped back a step and smiled. He didn’t see the resemblance, but he wasn’t nine years old. You can have her if your mother says it’s okay. Why don’t you go get her? We close in five minutes.

    The girl pulled her hand from the cage and stood, her eyes alight. I’ll trade you for her.

    Oh, for crying out loud . . . Cooper glanced at the Open sign and sighed. He’d dealt with children before. My boss won’t let me trade. Is your mother at the bar, honey? He was getting the oddest vibe from the kid, a weird mix of wealth and abandonment, like

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