Chapter Twenty-Seven: Obviously Not a Hawk

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   I drew my staff free from the clasp against my back and set the butt against the ground, using it to leverage myself into a standing position. My right foot touched the ground and white-hot fire zapped up into my pelvis. I sucked in a sharp breath and bit into my tongue so harshly that I tasted blood. I looked down and wanted to vomit at the sight of my leg.

   The teeth of the crystal panther had cut straight through. My entire calf, foot, and shoe was scarlet with my blood. Not to mention, my left arm still had the four slash marks through the forearm. My hand was dripping with so much blood that I was amazed that I could stand. 

   There was no way I was walking. This leg was too painful for me to put any weight on it. I looked up at the sky, annoyed and frustrated, and my eyes locked with grey ones. I paused to stare suspiciously at a hawk.

   The hawk.

   Something about it wasn't adding up. I'd seen it after dealing with the werewolf. Now, I'd seen it go after a panther right in front of me. It was obviously following me. Besides, I'd never seen a charcoal hawk with grey eyes. In other words, this wasn't a hawk.

   I grunted, my hand tightening in my staff. "I'm not stupid."

   The hawk blinked.

   "You're obviously not a hawk, you idiot. You've been following me. Not to mention you don't blend in for crap. So either get down here and explain why you're bothering me, or I'll drag you down here myself."

   For a hawk, it was pretty obvious it was giving me an incredulous look. Its gaze flicked to my arm and my leg. I gritted my teeth. As a hawk, it was already annoying me. I doubted whether or not I actually wanted to meet this idiot.

   I lifted my staff and pointed it darkly at the hawk. "After following me for two days, do you really think I don't follow through to my word?"

   Its beak snapped and it opened its wings. I watched haughtily as it glided down from the branch, and just before it hit the ground, the whole animal seemed to snap in half. Bile rose in my throat and I stumbled back. The feathers ripped and twisted, vanishing as it gave way to tan skin. Limbs unfolded from the body and grew outwards. Fabric emerged from the remains of the feathers and a face grew from the small face of the hawk.

   The person landed on their feet without a stumble. He stood a head taller than me, easily. A mop of charcoal curls gleamed in the sun, not exactly clean. His face was narrow with a steep jaw and grey eyes. Besides that, his clothes seemed to be in terrible shape. What used to be camo cargo pants and a brown t-shirt were in tatters. He wore no shoes, either.

   In other words, this was definitely not a hawk.

   I glowered. "And who are you?"

   The guy grimaced. "Sorry about following you. If it helps, I'm not trying to hurt you or anything."

   "That does not answer my question."

   He bobbed his head and lowered his hands. "I'm Tate."

   "And why were you following me?"

   I saw his hesitation and my suspicion raised its hackles. My fingers clenched on my staff and his eyes flicked that way, widening. "Okay! It's just . . . I need help getting out of here."

   My eyes narrowed. "Out of the Ghost Realm?" He wouldn't be in here if he weren't a criminal. There was no way I was letting him out,  if I ever got myself out. "Okay, look, the only people in here are criminals. Ones so bad that the Council banished your asses. So, long story short, the answer is no. Hell no. Now are you going to leave me alone or am I going to have to make you?"

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