Page 275 of Psycho Beasts

It was her usual expression.

She was Serpentine City’s preeminent therapist, and she’d been seeing Aran and me for the last couple of weeks.

Her services were compliments of the don.

“Honestly, it’s been great. Xerxes and Ascher designed this special glove. Here, I’ll show you.”

I pulled out the fabric I always kept on me for emergencies.

“Wait for it, you’re gonna love it.”

After putting the black glove on my hand, I flexed my knuckles and pressed down on the button on the palm.

A wicked sharp knife sprang up where my left ring finger had once been.

“I’m actually better now in hand-to-hand combat. Makes stabbing people easier.”

Dr. Palmer narrowed her eyes, and the stark lines around her mouth became more severe. “You can admit to yourself that you miss having your finger.”

I slashed the air dramatically.

“Are you not seeing this weapon? I’m honestly glad it’s gone.”

Aran, who was sitting next to me on the uncomfortable couch, nodded in agreement.

“Do you see how sharp that knife is? Why would she want a finger?”

Aran tapped her lip as she watched me withdraw and conceal my blade. “I’ve actually been debating cutting off one of my fingers so I can have one. No one sees the blade coming, and it makes a punch wickedly effective.”

I beamed at her.

“Aw, I didn’t know you were considering that. I could cut yours off for you.”

Aran smiled back. “I’ll let you know. Maybe we could do it next we—”

“No one is cutting off their finger,” Dr. Palmer interjected, her usual monotone voice dripping with scorn.

The therapist closed her eyes like she was counting to ten.

When she opened them, she gestured to my tank-top-clad torso and tried a new line of questioning.

“And I see that you are still choosing not to wear the enchanted ring. How does seeing your scars each day make you feel?”

“Really great,” I smiled. “I’ve established quite a reputation in the city. Shifters are terrified of the girl covered in scars. Makes the Mafia work easier.”

Aran high-fived me.

“Yeah, you should see her on the street. Shifters turn and run when they see her. Everyone’s terrified of the girl in league with the High Court and who’s rumored to have a goddess inside her.”

I punched Aran lightly on the shoulder with my nonknife hand. “Not as scared as they are of the fae guy who shoots icicles of death.”

Red stained the tops of Aran’s cheeks at the praise.

She was still disguised as a boy and had garnered quite a fan club in the city. Mostly beta women, and a few men, who were taken with her “fae” charms.

Dr. Palmer took a long sip of water and mumbled something about needing a raise.

“Fine,” the therapist snapped and turned away from me.

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