“They wouldn’t do that,” I said, but I was unsure. “Spencer isn’t always like that. The knife was just a stupid jump scare.” “Sure.” He grabbed the water I had slid over to him and gulped it down. “I’ll stay for the afternoon, but probably take off before it gets dark. What do you want to do?” His mood was sour, and I suddenly felt silly for baking a cake for Constantine. I glanced at it and sighed. “Well, if I have to condense your trip, I’d like to take you to see my bat flower.” “Bat flower?” He chuckled.