Rise of the Poison Moon by MaryJanice Davidson Page A

do, I guess . . .”
    Elizabeth held her hand. “It’s important for you to be here.”
    “Oh.” Gulp. “Sure, Mom. Anything you need.”
    Carrot Helmet abruptly rose from the desk, marched past the empty holding cells, and disappeared through a door at the end of the room.
    Jennifer glanced sideways at her mother, only to see her mother was glancing sideways at her . They shared a rare moment of perfect understanding: freaks!
    “So did Susan tell you she and Gautierre found chickens? Chickens!”
    “That is good news.”
    “Feral ones, apparently—”
    Her mom laughed.
    “I know—but they are , they’re feral because I guess they escaped from what’s- his-name, that really grumpy farmer on the east end of town . . .”
    “Max Featherstone. He wouldn’t sell, so there’s a Chipotle on one side of his field, and a Kentucky Fried Chicken on the other.”
    “Now that’s ironic. As Susan would say . . .”
    “Oh, the humanity.”
    “Right. Anyway, they apparently darted off during an Ember attack last year—”
    Carrot Helmet was back. “Excuse me—”
    Jennifer held up one finger, the way you hold off a waitress so you could finish your menu selection. “Anyway, so a bunch of his hens and the rooster took off, and made nests, and now there are feral chickens that don’t really belong to anyone, which means they belong to all of us. I bet they’ll taste all feral-ey. Mmmm . . .”
    Her mom chuckled again. “That’s great. We should scoop them up on the way back.” Her mom glanced up at the clearly irritated redhead. “What is it, hon?”
    “Mayor Blacktooth will be a moment. He apologizes—”
    “Oh, is he running late?”
    Deep frown. “Anyway, he’ll be right with you.”
    “Thanks. So anyway, honey, not only can you use the eggs for food, but you can grow certain cultures with them, which—”
    “Dr. Georges-Scales?”
    “Hmmm?” Her mother looked around absently. “Oh, we’re fine. We don’t need anything to drink.”
    The redhead’s lips were pressed so tightly together, they’d disappeared. “I was going to remind you that you took care of my brother’s shoulder surgery. About three years ago.”
    “Oh? Was he the ATV accident, or the car wreck?”
    “ATV.”
    “Sure. Mike . . . Mike Whittle.” Her mother’s eyes had gone vague while she tried to remember, then sharpened when she did. “He got out the day before his eighteenth birthday, right? No complications?”
    The invisible lips relaxed and reappeared. Dr. Elizabeth Georges-Scales had a computer-like memory for patients, including names and birthdays, and Jenn could see the redhead instantly loosen up. “Yeah, it—it went really good. I mean, you did good. He’s, y’know, out there.” She gestured vaguely, a gesture they’d all adapted and used to mean Beyond Big Blue.
    “I’m glad.” Her mother looked the woman up and down. “Is that a catlin?”
    She glanced down at her left hip. “Yeah. You won’t believe this, it’s sort of a family heirloom.”
    “It’s terrific. Jennifer, honey, do you know what those were for?”
    “Ear cleaning?”
    “Amputations,” both women said in unison. “It looks brand-new,” her mother continued, not bothering to hide her admiration.
    The woman actually blushed with pleasure. “Well, we’ve always kept it—”
    “I said ,” Hank’s voice boomed out of the far office, sounding vastly irritated, “I can see them now, Chief.”
    “Vacation’s over.” Jennifer sighed, standing and stretching.
    “Chief?” her mother seemed impressed. “I knew Mike’s sister was on the force, but I had no idea how far you’d come. Congratulations.”
    “Thanks.” She raised her voice on the off chance they hadn’t heard. “Thanks!”
    Jennifer shook her head. How does Mom do that? Poor Hank, he must know he’ll lose this battle eventually. No one wants to follow a tyrant.
    Not when they can pick someone like Mom.

CHAPTER 19

    Jennifer

    “Sorry to keep you