Page 26 of Flock This

Which would be the small antlers that showed from between the locks of hair on his head, the color a soft tan, the ends rounded. They reminded me of a fawn, only around six inches long and downright adorable.

“Are you a Were?” I asked before it occurred to me just how rude the question was.

He didn’t smile, but neither did he seem annoyed. He shook his head, the action causing a few long white strands to shift forward and hang in front of his shoulder. His hair reached to the bottom of his rib cage.

Talk about commitment. My own hair was to my shoulder blades and it seemed far too long already. I couldn’t imagine dealing with hair that long.

“Exactly how new are you?”

“I’m not new—just stupid.”

He furrowed his brows as though he’d never dealt with anyone quite as confusing as me. “I’m a druid—a deer Spirit, specifically.”

“Which isn’t a were because…”

“Because druids are Nature Spirits, not Weres.”

I nearly did finger guns back, mostly because that made very little sense to me. Then again, I changed into a crow but wasn’t a Were either. Apparently, we were both just special little snowflakes…

“You don’t seem like the sort of friend Ignis would have,” he said.

“I was about to say the same to you. I’m used to her friends being less horny.”

His lips didn’t even twitch in response to my perfectly crafted pun.

“Did you bring the item?”

It seemed he was the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am right to the point sort of person. How boring. I opened the portal to my personal bay, then grabbed the stake from inside. I brought it out, the same sense of horror washing over me as when I’d first found it.

The blood had dried to a red so dark it appeared black. At least it didn’t spread from the stake to my hands this time—small gifts.

I swallowed hard to center myself. Puking in front of a stranger was something to save for nights after way too much tequila when I couldn’t remember it.

“You’re softer than I would have expected,” the man said. “Let me see the item.”

I held it out to him, and he hesitated for a moment before taking it.

“I’m surprised you handed this over so easily. It seems like this would be of vital importance to you. Are you not afraid I might steal it?”

“If you can’t help me, it won’t do anything for me anyway. Besides, I trust Ignis. If she says you’re safe, then I believe it.” I thought about it, then smirked. “Plus, I’m an exceptional thief, so I’m pretty sure I could steal it back.”

He snorted, the sound reminding me of an animal. “That isn’t the sort of thing to brag about.”

“If I didn’t brag about my bad skills, I wouldn’t get to brag at all.”

He held the stake up, studying it despite our back and forth.

I got the sense that he paid only the barest amount of attention to my antics.

Rude.

“The stench of death is strong on this.”

“Happens when you kill something.” At my poor choice of words, I cringed. “I mean when someone else kills something. Not me, obviously.”

“Obviously.” His tone was almost mocking, making me wonder if he made fantastic jokes so dry that people didn’t always get them. “If this were an iron sword, I wouldn’t have gotten anything from it, but this is an oak stake.”

“Oak holds information better than pine? Good to know.”

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