Page 23 of Flock This

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I found it interesting. There you were, brand new to our world, no place yet, stealing from us. That isn’t something most people do, and I found it worthwhile to pay attention. It shouldn’t be a surprise really that you’ve continued to be a thorn in my side.” His laugh came out soft, floating through the phone line like an intimate caress. I again thought about how he’d look in a bed, that dark chuckle warm against my ear. “Well, good luck, feathers. I believe you are one thorn I’d miss.”

He didn’t wait for a response before he ended the call, leaving me there on the bench, suddenly thrust from his quiet room to the bustling city, to the lights and the noise and the people.

It felt like I’d somehow escaped a wolf’s den with all my limbs attached, but I had no idea how I’d done it. In fact, I was pretty sure it only ended so well because he’d let me go. Worse, I suspected one of these times, I might not make it out unscathed.

Chapter Seven

“You know, for how often I’m here, you could buy a yacht.” I flopped down on the soft couch in the center of the room.

“Sure—if you paid me. I don’t think you ever have, though.” Ignis Raymond pushed her glasses up on her nose as she stared at me.

“We’re friends. I thought friends helped each other?”

“Sure, and my friend help involves a margarita and drunken shenanigans. You sitting on my couch and complaining to me—that’s therapist me, and that bitch likes to get paid.”

I turned my head slightly so I could see her better, annoyed again at how capable she could look. She had blonde hair, but usually wore it pulled back into a neat bun. She was in her thirties, like me, but she always made me feel like a child compared to her. She wore small square glasses that made her blue eyes appear larger and brighter than usual, and her well-tailored suit just screamed, ‘trust me, I’m a doctor!’

Despite her bitching, however, I knew she wouldn’t kick me out. She never did, after all. It didn’t go just one way, either. She complained to me plenty, too. We’d been friends for years, probably one of my few lasting relationships.

“So what happened?”

I blew out a long breath, not sure where to even start. Ignis was great for this, though, for sorting through the torrential of thoughts that rushed through my head. So much had happened, so much remained unknown and unclear in my life.

“That bad, hmm?” Ignis crossed her legs and sat back, a clear signal to take my time. Then again, the woman never rushed me, no matter how long it took me to get where I was going. “Your emotions are all over the place. They’re fast, changing constantly as if you can’t grasp any of them.”

“Isn’t that normal for me? You always say you can’t keep track of my emotions.”

“No. Normally yours are brighter than most people, hard to look at, but they don’t change much. Now they’re swirling together, changing. You’re very upset even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Well, yeah. The vampires want to kill me, and I don’t know what to do. I kept that to myself, though. Details would only risk Ignis, after all. As an empath—and thus part of the Mind Clan—she wasn’t connected to the Graves, so she had no dog in this fight. That didn’t mean she couldn’t wind up in trouble, though.

“Are you seriously worried about me at a time like this?”

I twisted and sat up, glaring across the beige and calming room. “You swore you couldn’t read minds.”

“I can’t. However, all that guilt and worry you have could only mean one thing. I know you well enough to at least figure out what might make you feel that way. Let me guess? You don’t want to tell me what’s going on because you’re afraid I’ll end up in trouble?”

“I’ll know better than to talk to you after committing any crimes.”

“But then you’d never come see me.” She smiled, her pink lips sliding up on one side, the banter reassuring, as though to tell me no matter how bad things were, the two of us were just like we’d always been. “Look, you know I’m not involved in Spirit politics. I’m so far down the ladder in terms of power that I think most Spirits forget I even exist. No one cares what I do or think or know, so you’re perfectly safe to tell me about whatever is going on.”

I swallowed hard, worried about so many things that I couldn’t juggle them all. Still, a part of me wanted to tell her, to throw up all the problems in my head so she could help me hold them, so I didn’t have to bear it all alone.

Which was so not me. I narrowed my eyes. “You’re worse than a witch, you know that? Stop using your power on me.”

Ignis laughed then shrugged. “It was worth a try. You know I’m right, though, and I don’t have any more patients for the day so I’ve got lots of time. I once saw you drunk, naked and wearing nipple tassels because someone had told you they’d make you invisible. I really doubt anything you have to say now could be worse than that.”

And since I couldn’t argue with those facts, I sighed then told her the story of just how fucked up my life had gotten.

* * * *

“So in short? I’m fucked.” I leaned back on the couch as I finished my story. I hadn’t planned to give her quite that much information, but somehow Ignis could always get me talking.

And sure, I knew some of that was her powers as an empath and her training as a therapist, and while I hated to think that sort of thing would work on me, it sure seemed to.

Or maybe I was just too overwhelmed and needed a person I could pour this out to who had no connections to it all. I could admit how I felt about it without worry. I couldn’t tell Galen—he’d want to fix it all. I couldn’t talk to Kelvin—he was as trustworthy as a hungry snake.

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