The One and Only Crystal Druid
-- EXCERPT: When my attention landed on him, he strode toward me, his long legs eating up the ground and coat billowing out behind him. Stopping almost on top of me, he reached down as though to take my elbow—and seized the front of my jacket. I grabbed his wrist as he roughly hauled me onto my tiptoes, bringing my face close to his. Despite the moonlight and forgotten flashlights illuminating the clearing, the interior of his hood was filled with unnatural darkness. Ríkr watched us from his lofty perch, pale blue eyes gleaming. “That was quite the scene I came in on,” the man rumbled in a low, dangerous tone. “What do you know about that bear fae?” I stared into his hood. A rough sound grated from his throat. “You don’t seem to be grasping the situation. Tell me what you know before I lose patience.” I smiled, showing my teeth. “Was that a threat?” “What do you think?” My smile widened, and I lifted my empty hand toward his face. “It’ll take more than a hood and a threat to scare me, especially when”—I pushed his hood back—“I’ve already seen your face.” The shadows fell away, revealing his countenance again. Inhumanly vibrant green eyes, framed by dark lashes, fixed on mine, his eyebrows lowered with menace. A beautiful face, if I were honest. Striking cheekbones, a strong jaw, full mouth—currently pressed into a thin, angry line. By my best guess, he was in his mid-twenties, maybe a bit older. My palm brushed against his clean-shaven cheek as I let his hood fall—and with the same motion, I flicked my hand, pulling my switchblade from my jacket sleeve. The blade sprang free, and in an instant, I had the point resting against the corner of his left eye. But not fast enough. A cold, thin edge pressed against my left cheek. I didn’t break eye contact to see what sort of weapon he had in my face, but the blade felt sharp—sharper than my little knife. Neither of us moved, his fist tight around the front of my jacket. If either of our hands wobbled, we’d both bleed. His right eyebrow arched slightly. “How do you want to play this?” “Pass.” He wouldn’t let me go and he wouldn’t play knife-chicken. What was left? “Then I’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine.” His full mouth thinned again, green eyes raking across me. “Fine.” His agreement surprised me until I realized he expected to win this game too. He thought I’d reveal more with my answers than he would with his. Not likely. “Who the hell are you?” I demanded. “Answer my question first.” “You first. Who are you?” He growled under his breath. “The Crystal Druid.” Surprise flushed through me, and I couldn’t stop my eyelids from flickering with a single, startled blink. He was a druid? “Now,” he rumbled, “tell me what you know about that bear and the other aggressive fae in this area.” “I don’t know anything.” “Then you’re an idiot. Every fae across the lower mainland is talking about the attacks and disappearances around here.” “Fascinating, but this is the first I’ve heard of it.” “Aren’t you a witch?” “Yes, but a terrible one.” His striking green eyes narrowed. “Terrible in what way?” Ignoring his question, I shifted my blade ever so slightly, ensuring he couldn’t miss the sharp point in his peripheral vision. “My turn again. Why are you here?” “The fae—” “Yes, yes, the attacks. But why do you care about some aggressive fae?” I arched my eyebrows, though my bangs probably hid them. “What are you hoping to gain, Crystal Druid?”
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