My head snaps to him, my eyes filled with interest at the mention of Pop Rocks. How does he know my weakness? I eye the shifter cautiously.
Can’t seem too eager. I point at the item up for grabs. “This is a sturdy piece made out of lunch tray, mystery adhesive that would glue your ass to a rocket and have you up in space with no trouble, and gneiss. You’re telling me that four packages of Pop Rocks is the best that you can do?” I question, my gaze hard.
The male shifter looks confused for a beat. “What’s gneiss?”
I gasp. Blasphemy. These inmates need some serious rock tutelage. “What’s gneiss?” I repeat, shaking my head at his ignorance. “It’s only the best striped metamorphic rock formed from high pressure and temperature alone. This little beauty will stand the test of time, and I’ve made it as sharp as Wolverine’s blade,” I explain as I hold up the shank.
“How the hell do you know that?” Sophie asks on a snort.
“I’m a cockatrice; we have a thing for rocks.” I shrug. I thought this was common knowledge. Just like dragons like hoarding golden treasure and useless shiny things—so stupid—cockatrices like to collect rocks.
“That’s what she said,” Sophie cackles, punching one of the water fae in the shoulder and raising her eyebrows like,get it?
Zen shakes her head. “You’re better than that, Sophie.”
I laugh at the dig.
“Fine.Tenpackets of Pop Rocks, a case of Jolly Ranchers, six Cokes, but no sugar cookies,” the skinny male shifter calls out.
“Done!” I shout back with a smile.
Several groans and curses ring out as people get up, pissed at having lost, but I couldn’t be happier. I made out like a bandit.
“The item you’ve purchased will be delivered when Sinclair has received payment,” Zen calls out, and the male shifter nods his head and disperses with the rest of the group that’s breaking off.
“I call dibs on a Jolly Rancher,” Sophie declares beside me.
“Sorry, Soph, I have plans for those, but you and the crew can have the Cokes,” I offer instead.
“Fine. But they better not be diet,” she grumbles, and I smile and give her a pat on the back. I don’t blame her. Diet soda is nasty.
“Alright, Joe, you ready for another epic treasure hunt?” I ask the giant troll, my tone the high-pitched saccharine kind that’s usually reserved for talking to baby animals. I just can’t help myself with the big guy. He’s just too adorable with his grunts and his big ass self, and since he doesn’t talk, he’s the best secret keeper ever.
Joe grunts happily—or at least I think it’s a happy grunt, they all basically sound the same—and follows me as I go full Shawshank and scour the yard for any more pretty rocks that either need to be added to my collection or molded into their true shank-tastic form. Everything else, I give to Joe for a snack.
“Ohhh, amphibolite!” I shout out after about twenty minutes of treasure hunting.
I hurry to pick up the rock and bound over to my troll, who’s currently gnawing on some concrete pieces. We’ve come to an understanding that he doesn’t eat rocks until he shows them to me first so I can give him the all-clear. I once caught him chewing on a beautiful sliver of obsidian, and I about lost my mind.
“Now, Joe, you may be thinking to yourself, didn’t she just sell a shank with a similar rock? And that’s where you’d be wrong. See the speckled pattern? It’s different than the stripes of the gneiss,” I explain, turning the rock around in front of us. “They have similar coloration though, which is mind-blowing, because the gneiss is derived from granite, whereas the amphibolite isn’t! Can you believe that?” I ask him excitedly.
Joe grunts. Excitedly.
I nod. “You’re absolutely right, Joe! I’ll use a blue lunch tray for this one instead of the red, it’ll really complement the speckles. Such a good suggestion.” I hug Joe’s meaty thigh, since I can’t reach his midsection, but yelling pulls my attention away from the big troll teddy bear.
Some shouts sound out, and I look over at the football game going on just in time to see a male vamp throw a football right in the face of an ogre. The ogre’s nose smashes even flatter against his face, and black blood immediately starts gushing out. He bellows in pain, and the vamp just barely misses getting splattered with ogre blood. Yuck. That shit smells like cat piss, and once it touches you, it takesweeksto get the scent out.
The yard breaks out into chaos, like someone just flipped a war switch into theonposition. I clap with glee. I was hoping my fight with the wolf shifter in the cafeteria during my first day was going to be a prison brawl, but he got collared too fast for it to really count. I love running with Zen, but the downside is no one includes me in their fights. That’d be fine if I hadn’t already writtenprison brawlon my bucket list, but everyone knows once something is on the list, it can’t come off until it’s been accomplished.
“Oh my gosh, Joe, look how fun!”
I point at the massive fight that’s growing by the second and start hurrying right into the heart of it. I take note of where the ogres are battling and arc away from it because...no thank you cat-piss blood. A kitsune snarls at me as I join the fun, but I just boop it on the nose before introducing it to my right hook. I coo as the split tail fox shifter gets all wobbly and goes down embarrassingly fast.
I shake my head and tsk at it. “Not the hot shit you thought you were, huh? I like your tails though,” I tell the unconscious shifter as I dart off.
Someone plucks a fairy out of the air and throws it at me. I catch him before he can slam into an ice wall that someone has conjured. “There you go, little Tinkerbell,” I tell him sweetly as I help him straighten up and get his bearings.
“Shove that Tinkerbell shit up your ass, you dirty cunt!” the fairy yells at me. Out of nowhere, it conjures up a toothpick-sized sword and slashes at me.
