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“Just like that,” I confirmed, in case they got any ideas the fae-er version of Asa was an easier mark.
“I can’t imagine how it must feel to transform in a blink.” She dug her nails into her palms, as if to leash her tongue. “His control is remarkable.”
“Does it hurt?” Mr. Officer smiled when the daemon raked the sand with his claws. “It feels like I’m being torn limb from limb. Every time.” He barked out a laugh. “Probably because I am.” He chuckled. “It never gets easier.”
“Ask him yourself.” I waved the daemon over when he started wandering. “They have a question.”
“For Rue.” He thrust out his hand and dropped a perfect seashell on my palm. “Pretty.”
“It is pretty.” I admired it from every angle. “Let me put it in my pocket so I don’t lose it.”
Nodding his permission, he glanced at the wargs. “What question?”
“Does it hurt when you shift?” Mr. Officer let curiosity get the best of him. “Do you even feel it?”
“No shift.” He looked at them like they were crazy. “Am me all the time.”
“This is not how you looked when you arrived,” Mrs. Officer explained delicately. “That’s what we meant.”
“Oh.” He thrust a handful of hair into my hand. “You pet.” He screwed up his face. “I explain.”
From beside me, Clay snickered, barely holding in a snort.
The daemon was spoiled rotten, and I had to start enforcing rules for good behavior.
Somehow.
I let too much slide in the name of cuteness.
And there was nothing more adorable than the daemon looming over us all, rubbing his chin with his thumb and finger, pretending to entertain deep philosophical thoughts on the duality of his nature while he conned me into stroking his hair.
“I me,” he finally said. “Asa me too.” He tilted his head. “We same.” He held up a finger. “But different.”
To keep from chuckling, I bit the inside of my cheek. “There you have it, folks.”
Neither warg appeared to understand what he meant, but I was used to the line between them blurring.
“Can you tell if black magic was the cause of death?” Mr. Officer recovered first. “Or something else?”
“No black magic smell.” He tapped his nose. “Fishy smell.”
“Thanks for trying.” I returned his hair to him. “Can we have Asa back, please?”
How I phrased the question earned me speculative stares from the wargs, but I was good at ignoring people I didn’t want to justify myself to, especially when it came to Asa and his secrets.
“The remains were in the water for too long.” Asa accepted his shirt and shrugged it on. “I can’t help.”
“No problem,” Mrs. Officer assured him. “We’ll bag them up and get them tested.”
After a brief inner debate, I asked, “Mind if I try?”
“Not at all.” Mr. Officer watched me kneel and extend my hand. “You can tell by touch?”
“Sometimes.” I knew it was a bust before I made contact. “Looks like this isn’t one of those times.”
Clay passed me a wet wipe from his pocket, and I cleaned my hand as I stood.
“While we’re talking black magic,” he interjected, “have you had any dealings with the local boo hags?”
