Page 47 of Fighting Furry

Herbert seemed unbothered by the slap. “I don't have spa mud and my pores feel great.”

“You're supposed to rinse off the mud after the mud bath,” I said. “If you leave it on too long, it can clog your pores and cause breakouts.”

“Really?” Herbert asked, sitting up straighter. If he were in wolf form, I swear his ears would be standing at full attention.

“Sure. My best friend owns a spa in LA.” Her spa didn't have a mud bath, but dried mud was flaking off those guys and onto the table. It was just gross.

Doug and Herbert exchanged a look and stood in unison. “We'll see you later,” Herbert said. “Nice meeting you, Julie.”

“You, too,” I said to their retreating backs.

“You're my new hero,” Clarissa said, to the accompaniment of Rowan's laughter. “We've been trying to get those guys to leave for the past fifteen minutes.”

I shrugged. “No problem. What's good here?”

Clarissa and Rowan exchanged a look. “I wouldn't say good is exactly the right word for brunch,” Rowan said. “And there's no options. Pretty much the whole town shows up the day after a barn party and Morris just cooks a shit ton of the same stuff, scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said.

“Jelly said you moved in with Lucinda,” Clarissa said. “How's that going?”

“It's great. I'm grateful to her for taking me in.”

Clarissa smirked. “Really? You wouldn't be lying because you don't want to admit you'd rather be living with Axel, would you?”

“Can you smell a lie?” I'd read that in a book once and I didn't really believe it was possible. If she couldn't smell sex, how could she smell a lie? But it seemed like a safe way to change the subject.

Clarissa laughed.

“It's not such a crazy idea,” Rowan said. “People tend to sweat when they lie and we can smell that.”

“Sure,” Clarissa said. “But sometimes people sweat because it's an uncomfortable subject, or it's hot out, or they're under stress. It's not definitive.”

“But it's a clue,” Rowan said.

Clarissa sighed. “You are not going to convince me you can detect a lie well enough to infiltrate the Aspens Whiten pack and find out who stole the spirit stick.”

The waitress appeared by my elbow and set a glass of water in front of me. “The usual?” she asked. “Or extra?”

I looked at Clarissa for help. “How hungry are you?” she asked.

“Starving,” I said.

“Extra,” Clarissa said to the waitress.

The waitress scribbled something on her pad and hurried off.

“What's a spirit stick?” I asked. “Isn't that something you use at summer camp as a reward for team spirit?”

“No,” Rowan said. “It's a six-foot stick that's carved by the master craftsman, Herbert, and represents the virility of the pack. It contains the seeds of our future and the strength of our past.”

“The virility of the whole pack?” I asked. “Is it some sort of fertility thing?”

Rowan nodded, a grin splitting her face. “It's used to bless a new couple who's trying to have a child.”

Clarissa sighed. “That's one of its uses. It's also a record of a pack's history. The carvings represent past events of great importance. It's used in council meetings attended by multiple packs as a way to recognize each pack.”

“Okay,” I said. “Why would the Aspens Whiten pack want it?”

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