by T. S. Joyce
Ramsey followed his gaze and narrowed his glare on Vina. And then in a flash, he bunched his muscles and blasted into the air, Changing into his massive crow, leaving his jeans in a pile on the pavement.
“Caw!” he cried as he lifted into the sky, stretching his black-feathered wings to catch the air currents with powerful thrusts.
The fear thrumming through her body, dumping adrenaline into her, sealed it.
Ramsey wasn’t fit for her.
Ram, the King of Crows, wasn’t fit for anyone.
Chapter Five
In the history of the entire world, Vina was possibly the worst neighbor ever.
It was three in the morning, and she’d just laid awake for half an hour because she’d had a dream about the trashman emptying the dumpster onto her lawn. It was a horrible dream, a nightmare, because it had reminded her she’d forgotten to take the trash and recycling out to the curb last night. And so for an entire half hour, she’d laid awake thinking about the stupid trash not being at the curb. And now here she was, in an oversize T-shirt with a microbrew beer logo on the front, no pants on, her hair a mess, her feet bare, dragging the loud dumpsters behind her all the way down the cracked sidewalk of her half of the duplex.
Marsha Horbath next door was going to poop a brick when she heard this, and there was an eighty-seven percent chance Vina would get yelled at in the morning and get yet another complaint call to the landlord. But he loved her and didn’t give a single care about all the whining Marsha Horbath did. He just felt compelled to call Vina to let her know what Marsha thought of her so he could go back to the the grumpy battle-ax and tell her he took care of the problem—the problem being Vina.
But she was about as stubborn as a hair in a biscuit and wasn’t going to change a single thing about herself for whiny Marsha, so here she was, in the middle of the night, dragging the trash to the curb. The breeze lifted up her shirt, but hang it. No one was ever out this late. And if they were, well, maybe they would appreciate her threadbare Care Bear panties that her best friend, Michelle, had gotten her as a gag gift for her birthday but that Vina actually wore because A: she wasn’t wasteful and B: it was laundry day and it was her last clean pair. They were cute and had a rainbow over her hoo-hah. And this was probably part of the reason she was still single.
Crap, the mailbox was hanging open, probably on account of her not checking it in a week, and it was stuffed with bills and junk mail. The poor metal contraption looked like a busted can of biscuits.
With a growl, she made her way quietly over the dead leaves on the sidewalk, tiptoed through the dry grass that was a few inches too overgrown for Marsha’s liking, and pulled out an armload of mail. Three pieces slipped from her grasp as she made her way back to recycling, and by the time she got there, she was muttering her replacement curse words since she’d quit swearing three years ago and wasn’t about to start back up now. Not for mail.
“Mother Hunker, shhhhhhhip.”
Three more pieces and a magazine fell to the ground, and she squatted down right there in the street, Care Bear-clad buns hanging out, muttering to herself as she sifted through bills and junk mail and separated them into disheveled piles.
A rustling sounded above her, but she ignored it. The birds always roosted in the tree and crapped all over her Explorer. She was a bright-sides kind of girl though, so she liked to think they rested there because they liked her and bird poops were presents.
There. With a huffed breath, she gathered up the pile of magazines and coupon booklets and stood. Struggling to keep open the lid of the recycling bin, she shoved in the armload and then let the lid fall. Loudly. It was an accident. But the light still went on in Marsha’s bedroom in her duplex. Whoops. Sorry Marsha.
More rustling, and why was she breathing heavy? She’d barely done anything physical. Hands on her hips, Vina rolled her head back and stared into the branches of the old oak tree above to find a crow.
A crow? And not just any crow, but a huge one the size of an eagle. It had a white diamond on its chest, but the rest was pitch black like the night sky. Its beak was glossy and matched the dark color of its eyes, which were trained on her.
Chills lifted the fine hairs on her arms. He was one of them. She knew that much in an instant. “Ramsey?” she asked softly, uncertain.
The monstrous bird didn’t respond. He didn’t move at all. He could’ve been one of those taxidermy ravens for all she could tell. Clearing her throat, she said it again. “Ramsey?”
Nothing.
“Ram?”
Not even a blink.
“King of Crows?”
Had he frozen like a crow-Popsicle?
“Murdery cussy fighty scary hotboy?”
Newp. Not a blink, not a breath, not a caw.
Okie dokie then. Well, giant crows weren’t that terrifying when they were just sitting there politely with manners. Vina was a little lonely, and maybe the crow was too, so she sat on the curb and looked up at the stars, pretending they were watching the sky together and he wasn’t creepily staring at her instead of the man in the moon.
Three minutes.
That’s how long she sat out there by the trashcans in her giant threadbare T-shirt, Care Bear panties, and bare feet. Three minutes was how long she pretended to be friends with a crow before she couldn’t stand the silence anymore.
Vina stood, looked up at the frozen crow one last time, and then said, “Goodnight, Ram.”
And then she walked inside and left him to do crazy-crow things while she cuddled under the covers and went back to sleep.
****
Day Two.
Four a.m.
Vina frowned out the window at the crow with the white diamond on his chest. He sat on the barest branch near the bottom, nearest the trashcans she’d not-so-accidentally left out by the curb today because she was lazy and didn’t feel like dragging them up to the house. And truth be told, Marsha had yelled at her this morning and called her “an irresponsible insomniatic mess.” She had politely corrected her that insomniatic wasn’t a word, but Marsha had only yelled louder. So perhaps Vina had also left the trashcans out there because Marsha would have to see them for the next three days as punishment for name-calling. Vina liked to think she was training manners into the woman. She was a helper.
The crow was lower in the tree than last night. It had to be Ramsey. Just had to be. She’d thought about him all day at work and looked out at the tree at least a dozen times since she’d heated up frozen taquitos in the microwave for dinner like a bachelor. Rike had no reason to come to Castle de Vina, only Ramsey.
Discovering her own manners, Vina pulled on some khaki shorts under her loose-fitting purple tank top, and even slipped on some leather flip-flops. Toting a box of chocolate Teddy Grahams, she made her way toward the tree.
“You have no reason to hang out here,” she said. “I pulled my application from the matchmaker this afternoon. You’re off the hook. Everyone is.”
The crow cocked its head and blinked once at her.
“So…shoo. Shoo away, bird. You don’t have to be here. You can go…deal drugs, run guns, assassinate people, or whatever it is your MC does. I’ve seen all the shows and movies, and I know you do illegal stuff.”
He was frozen again. Great.
Narrowing her eyes, she huffed a breath and took out a handful of bear-shaped cookies. Crunching on them, she said, “Are you lonely? A lonely crow? I’m lonely too, so I get that. I guess if I was lonely enough, I would sit in someone’s tree, too. Maybe.”
Vina sat on a thick tuft of dandelions and snacked away for a couple of minutes. “I have a best friend. You do too, probably. I would guess it’s Rike. He’s scary, but you’re the scariest. God, I hope you’re Ramsey. My bestie’s name is Michelle. Michelle Corkle, but kids in school used to call her Michelle Snorkle, and she was picked on, so I got real protective. I didn’t know her at first, but I decided she was my friend. Or my moose did. She’s a little strange about who she latc
hes onto. Obviously. I sat here for three freaking years waiting on a crow I never met. There was this girl in fifth grade named Lucy Maynor, and she was a total pill, used to bully everyone. But she really picked on Michelle, so one day I told her I bought her a pack of skittles and to meet me behind the bleachers after school. I beat the tar out of her and told her if she ever even looked at Michelle again, I would spend every day until we graduated high school hunting her. And I didn’t even have any skittles. See? You aren’t the only one who can be savage.”
She giggled at herself and ate another three cookies. “Anyway, me and Michelle have been besties ever since. But she lives back in Michigan with her husband and their kids.” God, her voice sounded sad. “I don’t know why I just said that like it’s tragic. She has a great life, and I’m so happy for her. Both of her kids are like my nieces. We meet up for lunch when I visit my parents back in my hometown.” Vina scrunched up her face. “I miss when we were kids and everything was easier, you know? You went to school and did your chores, got weekends to run wild with your friends, and there weren’t bills and responsibilities and failures.”
Ramsey turned his head the other way and blinked again. Well, at least he was reacting tonight. Improvement.
“I’ve been telling Michelle and my family that I’m gonna get me a crow for so long, they don’t even try to talk me out of it anymore. Finally, they gave up. Ha. And now I have to tell them how stupid I was.” Her chest ached, and she pursed her lips. The cookies felt like silly putty in her throat.
Vina stood. “Goodnight, Ram.”
And then she went back inside.
****
Day Three.
4 a.m.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” Vina said in a seductive movie star voice. “But seriously,” she said to the crow sitting on the lid of her recycling bin. “I couldn’t sleep because I kept checking the time. You are like clockwork. But some of us work normal hours.” She tried to sound severe, but she didn’t really care. Today hadn’t been so lonely.
“I’m counting these as dates,” she said, testing him. Ramsey didn’t fly away.
“Caw.”
Huh. There was his voice. “I am. And don’t try to stop me. If you keep coming here every night, I will tell everyone we are dating. And I’m traditional. I will start whining for flowers to be delivered to my place of work for special occasions and moonlight strolls in your human form.” Test, test, test, but the crow stayed right where he was. Okay then. She could say whatever she wanted. Maybe he didn’t understand her when he was a crow. Some shifters were like that.
“Tonight we’re going to talk about my childhood hopes and dreams.” She arched an eyebrow and waited, but his big wings didn’t take him anywhere. “Huh. Okay…” Vina sat on her favorite tuft of dandelion weeds. Didn’t matter she sat on this particular weed because she’d already squished all the fluffy white wish seeds with her bunghole last night. She didn’t like killing innocent things in general, so she was sparing the other dandelions in the yard.
“Things I thought I would accomplish when I was a kid.” Vina counted them off on her fingers. “Thought I would invent the flying car, but it turns out I’m not that mechanical. I mean, I’m seriously not. I’ve tried to fix my garage door opener for nine straight weeks now, and it still doesn’t work. I’ve probably watched forty videos on how to fix it, and still nope. Next, totally thought I was going to marry Jake Shaw in second grade. Like…I thought he was it for me because in Mrs. Fluchey’s class, we all had to stand up and say our favorite colors, and his favorite color was butterscotch yellow, just like my favorite color, so I thought we were soulmates. He has a very nice husband now, and they live in Hollywood. I’m building up your understanding of how wrong I am about most things in my life so you can fully appreciate the gem you keep visiting at nights. Three. I legit thought I was going to be a hedgehog breeder for the better part of my high school years. I was obsessed with them and their little pink hairless babies. I still want a dozen of them. Okay, it’s time for my actual accomplishments. Ready? I was on the honor roll, finished four years of college for ranch management, couldn’t find work after graduation, so I worked at a pretzel stand for four years, and then landed the community center gig, where I plan events for the town, and also weddings. I try not to eat my way through a gallon of ice cream at night after watching mushy couples hug and make-out and giggle all day. And truth be told, that’s what I want. The giggling, the fawning, and the anniversaries, the movie dates, and the PJ parties…all of it. I want my person to find me already. I’m bored of waiting.” She huffed a breath and stood. “Enough for tonight. Sleep like a log, Ram.”
****
Day Four.
4 a.m.
Ramsey doubled over, resisting the urge to Change. Fuckin’ crow was going insane, and he was going to hurt that poor woman, Vina. She’d looked so sad yesterday when she’d talked about wanting to find her person.
He wasn’t it. Ramsey was on the fast track to hell, and that girl actually stood a chance at a normal life.
Fuck, this hurt.
The Crow was doing something bad with her. He was visiting Vina at nights, and Ramsey didn’t even realize it until these moments when he would come to, and Vina was sharing something big. Or at the end, when she told him goodnight. The Crow was pushing Ramsey out of consciousness when he was with her. At this point, he didn’t even know how long he’d been visiting her. He was losing track of days, and they were beginning to blend together. She seemed comfortable with him. Too comfortable. And when The Crow did let Ramsey have consciousness in that body, it was at some illuminating moment that made him like Vina, and pity her, even more. He couldn’t fuck her life up. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. The Crow was a bad decision maker. He was a life-ruiner, and he needed to be stopped from whatever he was planning.
Pain, pain, pain. It was like lighting striking his body over and over.
Sweating, gritting his teeth, Ramsey slammed his fists onto the floor and buckled in on himself. He could feel The Crow, that dark-souled bastard, right under the surface of his skin, scratch-scratch-scratching to escape. But it was Ramsey’s responsibility to stop this. He was the keeper of The Crow. He had to protect innocents from himself.
Oh, he knew what The Crow was doing. He was trying to save himself from that God-awful broken bond that was poisoning him. Tenlee’s bond. Ramsey retched and slammed his fist against the floor again. Fuckin’ fuckin’ crow. He’d never regretted being born like this until now. He’d always reveled in the power of The Crow. He’d never been alone growing up when his dad was beating the shit out of his mom. Or when his mom checked out from everything. When she’d stopped looking at Ram because he was the spitting image of that old bastard. Never alone, never lonely, because The Crow was right with him. He was right there every second, while Ramsey was fighting his way through school. Fists on skin were the only thing that made any sense. The Crow never abandoned him, even at his worst. Ramsey had always had someone right there, making him feel like everything would be all right if he just kept fighting his way out of trouble. He’d had a built in best friend. He’d never let Ramsey down until he chose Tenlee as a mate.
His crow was a brawler, but he was also a survivor. A fighter. His existence was important to him, while Ramsey was halfway to quitting life already. The Crow was watching the moose, trying to figure her out, but that would bring nothing but trouble to that poor girl. Pretty girl.
Caw.
Fuck. He was hearing his crow in his head now. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t stop this. Desperate, he lurched upward and stumbled into the bathroom. No windows in here, no escape. And as Ramsey shut the door firmly and locked it, he grinned to himself at the small victory. Good luck opening doors, Crow.
****
Day Four.
5 a.m.
Ramsey really wasn’t coming.
Typical. Men always got bored of her quickly. This one stung in ways she hadn’t been prepared for, though.
Ramsey really wasn’t coming.
She searched the sky for the hundredth time, but other than the twinkling stars, there was no movement.
Vina didn’t want to go back to being lonely. She didn’t want to go back to not having anything to look forward to. What a silly, stupid girl she was, getting attached to a flighty crow.
Her eyes burned with anger. It wasn’t anger for Ramsey either. It was anger with herself that made her feel this bad. She stood, left the bright pink plastic lawn chair right where it was. She’d been so confident he would come, she’d bought this chair at the store today for their middle-of-the-night dates. She left the two beers she’d bought in the cooler too, and dragged the garbage cans back to the duplex.
She’d been a silly, stupid girl for the last time.
No more waiting for men who didn’t see her for what she was. For men who outgrew her so quickly and moved on.
Pairings didn’t work—at least not for her.
And forcing herself not to look again at the sky, Vina went back inside…because Ramsey really wasn’t coming.
Chapter Six
“Ram.”
Ramsey squinted one eye open. His head was throbbing so hard he wanted to squeeze his eyes closed again immediately. Rike and Ethan were here, squatted down near the bathroom doorway. The floor was covered in shattered glass, and the light fixture above him had been destroyed. The shower curtain was in tatters, and the back lid of the toilet had been ripped off and lay cracked across his hip. His whole body hurt and was covered in cuts.
“What happened?” Ethan asked quietly from behind Rike. Both of their eyes were black, and they looked worried. Great. More worry. More pity.
Hoarsely, Ramsey said, “I locked myself in here.”
Rike looked back at Ethan, but whatever they said with their look, Ramsey couldn’t tell. “Why would you do that? Your crow wasn’t ever going to react well to being trapped. Even if you were…”