A sound like branches scraping against glass emanated from where his mouth should be. "Oh, I located your human quite easily. He's practically in our backyard."
I scratched the top of my head. “That close? That’s strange. Kassie plays games with gamers all over the world. Is it a coincidence he is this close to here? Where is he then?”
The mayor's hand transformed before my eyes, fingers elongating into razor-sharp talons. He examined them with clinical detachment, turning his palm upward as if studying a curious specimen. "The fox shifter walks among us," he said, voice like dry leaves scraping stone. "He has been here all along."
I jerked backward, wings snapping open with a sound like canvas catching wind. "Tell me his location. Is he hunting for Kassie? Because if that's his game,"—my voice dropped to a chittering growl—"then I'll consider it a direct threat. And I will eliminate it."
The mayor's head rotated sideways with a sound like dry twigs breaking. A seam split his blank face, revealing rows of needle-like teeth that clicked together like a bear trap. "The fox has been living among us for months now," he said, voice hollow with something that might have been shame. "I failed to detect him."
I felt my eyes dim. The mayor missing something? Impossible. This was the being who tracked every creature's comings and goings, who maintained perfect records of humans versus monsters down to the last decimal point. I'd bet my wings he even knew about the rut I was fighting. Nothing escaped him. The guy could probably smell the come dripping in my pants.
“How did you—”
The mayor's blank face contorted with rage. "That picture triggered my memory. This fox has enchanted himself with a forget-me-not spell. Without photographic evidence, his face slips from memory like smoke. I've encountered him before, even talked with him." He made a sound like grinding stone. "Fox shifters possess magic to make up for their small form. Their patron deities bestow abilities that make them... quite powerful in many ways.”
I scratched between my antennae. “Like?”
“The power of seduction for one.”
I screeched angrily.
The mayor's voice lowered to a hiss. "Fox shifters possess... anatomical flexibility... designed to entice potential sexual encounters. While he could transform completely in the wilderness, he'd never risk revealing his true nature within town limits. Most concerning, is his dream manipulation. During my nightly surveillance sweeps, when I count our monster population versus those dwelling in the forest, he remained invisible. He was able to cloak his presence even from my sight."
My wings flapped behind me. “He can override your power?”
The mayor hissed. “It appears so. He can hide from me.”
No wonder the Slenderman was pissy.
I shifted uncomfortably, trying to make room in my suddenly too-tight pants. Comforting the mayor seemed impossible—what did you offer a being whose face splits open to reveal rows of needle-teeth? A hug seemed out of the question. One wrong move and those teeth might slice through my antennae, leaving me with that weird chemical smell that would linger for weeks.
No thanks.
The mayor tilted his head to the other side, his arms hanging from side to side. “Think any harder, and the fluff around your neck might fall off. What do you want, Atlas?”
I cleared my throat and smoothed down the fluff around my neck. "So, uh, even the great mayor missed a shifter sneaking around town? That's gotta be rough, especially when your whole thing is keeping tabs on everyone."
The mayor growled.
“I wondered if you might need a hug?” I spread my wings and all my arms wide.
Why did I offer that? Why?
Because you are awkward as fuck.
He stood up, his mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
“A hug, it is what the humans do?”
The mayor dragged a palm down his featureless face, the sound like sandpaper on wood. "Either your mating urges have scrambled what little brain you possess, or you've been drinking too much from the falls." His voice dropped to a hiss. "Leave. Now. Keep your phone charged. Should I detect the fox, you'll be the first to know." He leaned closer, blank face somehow conveying menace. "The fox can't hide from you or me any longer. His enchantment fails since we have seen his face other than his true self.”
I nodded and hummed. “So, no hug, then?”
“Get out!” he roared, the birds flying away from the tops of the trees.
I tumbled backward, landing hard on my rear. Wincing, I pushed myself up and rubbed at the tender spot. Thank goodness for my less-than-athletic backside—at least I had some natural padding for moments like these.
I huffed in annoyance, watching the Slenderman wipe his hands down his face, again. He was truly upset, and I couldn’t understand why. We all made mistakes, Kassie has told me so a thousand times.
