[Willow Harbor 08.0] Raven's Sight

by Jennifer Snyder

  “Hey there. I’m Anna,” a soft and sweet female voice said. A woman walked toward me with a wide smile stretched on her face. Her blond curls bounced, and she had an all-around warm and inviting aura to her. “This might sound strange, but I own the food truck over there and as I was cleaning up for the day I noticed you sitting over here and thought you maybe could use something to eat. I noticed you’ve been here a while and seem a bit lost so to speak. I’ve always felt it’s easier to figure things out when my stomach is full, so I figured I’d bring you a sandwich. I hope you like BLTs.”

  My jaw grew slack. While the people of this town seemed a bit eccentric, they damn sure were nice.

  “Thanks. I honestly can’t remember the last time I ate.” There was so much truth laced in my words it was almost comical.

  Anna passed the bag with the sandwich to me. The scent of bacon made its way to my nose, and my stomach growled. I guess I was hungry.

  “You’re welcome. Well, I better get back and finish cleaning up,” she said. “And you’ve come to the right place to think. The tree is bound to help you figure whatever is bothering you out, just maybe not in the most obvious way. So be sure you keep your eyes open.” She winked before turning around and heading back to her truck.

  I glanced up at the tree as I unwrapped the sandwich she’d given me. What had she meant by it helping to figure out what’s bothering me?

  Movement across the street captured my attention. The door to The Dragon’s Hoard had opened and out stepped the girl with the dark hair I’d been searching for. She stared at something in her hand, oblivious to anyone else around her.

  What was she looking at? It was too small to be a cellphone.

  When she began walking, her gaze lifted and locked directly with mine. Had she felt me staring at her? Her feet faltered, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

  Did she recognize me? Because there was definitely something incredibly familiar about her.

  It wasn’t just her physical appearance—her dark hair, slender figure, and delicate facial features—but also in the way she held herself, her energy. She was tense but it seemed as though this was a normal state of being for her. I could tell she was something supernatural right away, but I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly. I narrowed my eyes to focus, curiosity getting the best of me.

  A raven. She was a raven.

  She ripped her gaze away from me and darted down the sidewalk. Distance spread between us. I didn’t chase after her. Maybe I should have, but I didn’t want to risk frightening her any more than she already seemed to be. My throat pinched tight.

  Who was she? And why was she so afraid of me?

  I spent the night walking the length of this odd little town while trying to connect the puzzle pieces I’d been given. Nothing seemed to fit together. Not really. The only thing that made any sense was the girl with the dark hair was somehow connected to everything.

  Something inside me knew she was the secret to unlocking my memories.

  At around two in the morning, I found myself at a hole-in-the-wall place called Drifters with a free beer in my hand. The old man running the place seemed interested in learning why I was in town, same as everyone else I’d encountered. I hadn’t said much to him, but I had given him the basic rundown of my troubles. All he’d done was laugh. He said people who found their way to town were destined to be here. It seemed to be a theme I was hearing a lot. I wasn’t sure I believed in it though. It seemed too far-fetched. However, I had come to town without any clue as to how I’d gotten here. There had to be something at play. Why not label it as magic or destiny the way the townspeople seemed to?

  “Thanks for the beer.” I pushed myself to my feet and stood to leave.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “Remember, the tree brought you here, boy, and all it wants is our happy endings.”

  Odd.

  “Okay,” I said, trying to keep the smirk off my face. Was the guy nuts? What did that even mean? “I’ll keep that in mind. Have a good rest of your day.”

  “You too.”

  After I left Drifters, I walked back to town square. The need to see the girl with the dark hair again burned through me. I needed to talk to her. I crammed my hands into my pockets and headed toward the bench beneath the willow tree. It was the last place I’d seen her at, and I was hoping if I sat there long enough I’d get lucky and spot her again.

  A gentle breeze blew as I walked over the footbridge near the base of the tree, and it ruffled the branches. They swayed in the wind. One caressed my cheek as I neared the bench and a strange sense of serenity ripped through me from its touch. The old man’s words replayed through my mind, the tree brought you here, boy, and all it wants is our happy endings.

  Why would a tree even care about someone’s happy ending?

  I glanced at the tree. Its spindly branches danced in the little bit of wind blowing. Its trunk was thick and twisty. Power seemed to emanate from it, but I wasn’t sure if it was real or something the people of this town had brainwashed me into thinking during the short time I’d been here.

  It did seem as though the tree was all anyone talked about. Were they some sort of tree worshiping cult?

  Goose bumps prickled across my skin as another cool breeze picked up, sending its branches swaying harder. They whipped around me as though upset I doubted its power. What if the tree was as magical? Was there a chance it could help me?

  I shook my head and laughed at myself. Jesus, I was losing it.

  Six

  Lena

  My eyes itched and burned. They were gritty feeling as though sand were in them. I hadn’t slept well last night thanks to the guy on the bench I caught staring at me yesterday. I kept thinking he must have been the guy Mrs. Ackerman mentioned. Had he been sent here by the Sisters? If so, he was in for a real treat because I wasn’t going back without a fight. My raven and I had gotten a taste of freedom and we’d do anything to keep it, even if it meant fighting to the death.

  Images of the guy flashed through my mind. There had been something familiar about him, but no matter how hard I tried I still couldn’t place him. I did, however, feel as though I knew him. He reminded me of someone. It hit me then who; he reminded me of him but I knew that couldn’t be right. He was dead. However, this guy was a shifter too. I was able to pick up on it right away. An owl just like he had been. Pinpointing what others were was something my raven prided herself on. It was part of the gifts she shared with me—rebirth, recovery, and reflection among other things.

  I stepped to my living room window. It overlooked the town square and majestic willow tree. My eyes focused on the bench. It was still empty. While I was glad the guy wasn’t there waiting on me, there was a small part of me that hoped he would be. At least then I’d know where he was so he couldn’t surprise me again.

  I chewed the corner of my thumbnail. What was I going to do now?

  Today was my day off from work, which meant I would be alone most of the day. Holing myself up in my apartment seemed like a good way to steer clear of him, but it also might be risky. If he came for me no one would around to intervene. However, yesterday he hadn’t made a move toward me when we saw one another, but that didn’t mean today he’d react the same. He was interested in me. Invested in some way. It burned through his eyes and seeped into the air around him.

  Should I call in and ask to work on my day off?

  Violet and Hubs wouldn’t mind and my bank account could use the extra boost. Maybe working some overtime was a good solution. I’d be with others instead of alone. I’d be able to busy myself with something other than worrying. And I’d be able to earn some more money.

  Seemed like a win-win.

  My gaze drifted to the clock hung on the wall. It was after seven already which meant Urban Grind would at least be open. I could get a coffee before heading to work and asking to work some extra hours today. It wasn’t much of a plan but it was something.

  Safety in numbers. That would be my them
e for the day.

  I headed to my room for some fresh clothes and twisted my hair into a braid before inching my way out the front door. Once I was sure there wasn’t anyone waiting in the shadows of the hall, I locked my apartment up and jogged down the steps to the sidewalk. My heart was in my throat the entire way.

  Even at this hour on a chilly October morning Willow Harbor was bustling with people. Moms were taking their kids to school, teens walked in clusters, the roads were busy with people going to and from work. And as I glanced down the sidewalk to the doors of Urban Grind I noticed a revolving door of happy customers.

  This all managed to relax me enough for my heartbeat to even out and my muscles to loosen.

  I crammed my hands in the pockets of my coat and started toward the coffee shop. Anxiety uncoiled within me with every step. Each noise made me jump. Each person who got too close had my muscles tensing and my raven ready for action. She was just as uptight as I was. The only place she wanted to be was in the sky.

  The idea was tempting but not practical.

  The door to Urban Grind opened before I could reach it. Cole, one of the hunters who lived in the mansion at the edge of town, stepped out. He carried a tray of coffees in one hand and his own in the other. His green eyes sparkled in the early morning light as he sipped his coffee. Satisfaction seemed to slither through him at the taste, visibly relaxing him. What did Loran put in his coffee and teas? Magic?

  Some businesses in town did. Not all. But a few. I knew the water at Tempet’s Pizza was spelled to taste like tap water from New York. The fruits and vegetables from the Tilman’s farm were all grown with a hint of magic. And though I couldn’t be sure, I suspected the pastries at Ida’s Bakery were infused with some sort of magic as well.

  Loran’s coffee and teas being spelled wouldn’t surprise me.

  A chilly breeze slipped against my skin as I made my way inside Urban Grind. Warmth enveloped me and the sweet scent of coffee tickled my nose. The place was so inviting. It was my favorite shop in town. In a way, it felt like home and Loran felt like a friend.

  Did others in town feel that way or was it just me?

  I stepped to the back of the line and glanced around. It wasn’t as busy as I’d originally thought it would be. Everyone must have been getting their coffees to-go. I was okay with that. Crowds weren’t something I’d be able to handle well today. I glanced over my shoulder at the large windows in the front of the shop to look at the willow tree. The bench was still empty. The knots forming in my stomach released...until a guy with a bushy goatee walking beneath the tree stepped into view. Part of his face was obscured by its branches, but it didn’t matter because my heart was already pounding with the possibility of it being the same guy.

  Could he see me? Was he coming this way? What should I do? Surely he wouldn’t attack me, or whatever he was here to do for the Sisters, in such a public place, right?

  I continued to track him beneath the tree, watching as he crossed over the footbridge. When he started toward Urban Grind my lungs forgot how to breathe. It took me longer than it should, but soon I realized this wasn’t the same guy I saw yesterday. In fact, it wasn’t a stranger at all. It was Cad, owner of Tempest Pizza. My muscles loosened and my breathing evened out as the recognition of him swept through me.

  Jesus, I needed to get a grip.

  My hand came up to smooth along my forehead as I turned away from the windows. The line moved forward, garnering my attention. I spotted Loran behind the counter and felt the lingering sensation of unease melt from me when he glanced at me. The intensity of his stare upon initial arrival at his shop was something I’d grown used to. While I was positive not everyone who entered Urban Grind noticed it, I always had. Loran had a way of looking at a person when they entered his shop that made it seem as though he saw directly into their soul. He genuinely cared about his customers. It showed in the way he remembered everyone’s name and favorite beverage. He also took pride in his space. It was cozy and clean. Sometimes I came by just to sit and read while enjoying a caramel macchiato.

  The line moved forward again, and I watched as Loran interacted with the new customer. He was friendly and composed. As he created the man’s beverage, Loran seemed to be solely focused on him. Maybe that was what made this place so great. It was a rare occasion when someone stopped to ask how you were and genuinely meant it. People moved too fast through each moment. They didn’t slow down...until they stepped in here. Loran had a way of forcing you to stop your day-to-day hustle and smell the coffee, if only for a moment.

  The line moved forward, and I watched his charisma bloom yet again.

  “And here you are,” Loran said to the woman in front of me after making her a creation sure to satisfy. He handed her a cup. “Enjoy.”

  “Always do.” Her voice was overly sweet and held a slight purr within it.

  Was she flirting with him?

  I took in what she wore—a short red dress with a knitted black shawl and heels. She flipped her red hair over her shoulder, sending the scent of her flowery perfume to my nose.

  When she turned to leave I realized who she was—Cherry Hardigree, one of the few succubi in town. Her red painted lips were still pulled into a smile as she walked past me to leave.

  “Hello, Lena,” Loran greeted me as I stepped toward the counter. “You’re early this morning, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am,” I said.

  He leaned against the countertop and stared at me. He wore his usual attire—a long-sleeved shirt, cozy-looking sweater vest, and his standard beret. I always thought he was handsome in a mysterious ‘I’m from Paris’ way. I had no clue how he found his way to Willow Harbor, but I knew I wasn’t the only person grateful that he had.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

  “Not at all.”

  The corner of his lips twisted into a smile. “You’ve come to the right place then.”

  He pushed himself away from the counter. Without asking what I wanted, he moved and began creating something I knew would satisfy me well beyond anything I could’ve made myself at home.

  “Something’s been troubling you, hasn’t it?” His question surprised me. I wasn’t sure why though, he seemed to be a very observant person. “You know I’m here to listen if you feel a need to talk.” He flashed me a warm, welcoming smile.

  I nodded and then licked my lips. Could I really tell him what was bothering me? What would he think of me when he learned I was on the run and that I worried what I’d been running from had found me?

  When I glanced at him I noticed his eyes had never wavered from me. He knew his machines so well he didn’t have to look to see what he was doing.

  “There’s no one here. No one besides us.” His eyes softened as he motioned to his shop. I glanced around. When had the place cleared out? “I can sense the troubles stirring in you. They were there yesterday when you came by too, but they seem to have multiplied overnight.”

  He handed me my drink. I took a sip without asking what he’d made. I assumed it was my usual but it wasn’t. Peace and calming settled over me like a sedative as the taste of warm vanilla slipped down my throat. The fuzziness of my fatigue disappeared, and I was able to think clearly after one taste.

  “How do you always know?” My question was loaded, and from the way Loran’s eyes flashed with delight, I imagined he understood what I was asking.

  It wasn’t that I wanted to know how he made amazing tasting beverages, but instead how he knew what would calm me. He always seemed to know exactly what I needed, what I wanted without me having to voice it, at just the right time. It wasn’t just me he knew these things about; he seemed to know them about everyone who stepped through that door.

  A secretive smirk twisted at his lips as the color of his eyes intensified. What was he? What corner of the supernatural world did he belong to? He was the one person my raven and I had never been able to figure out. As he continued to stare at me without speaking I wondered if h
e was digging inside my brain. Was he taking note of my desires? What about my fears? Was he able to read my mind?

  “How about we play a little game?” he asked. “You answer a question of mine, and I’ll answer one of yours.”

  I shrugged. It seemed fair. “Okay.”

  I took another sip of the warm vanilla drink he’d made. A sense of lightness settled over me.

  “What is it that has you so afraid?” he asked point blank.

  I wasn’t sure what question I’d been expecting but that wasn’t it. However, I didn’t have to think long for an answer, the words seemed to propel themselves past my lips without a second thought.

  “Being taken back and forced to use my gifts in ways I don’t want to again,” I said.

  Loran’s eyes never wavered from mine. In them, I could see a sense of understanding and the slightest hint of sympathy being reflected. “Now, what question do you have for me?”

  I imagined he’d have something more to say in response to my answer, but he didn’t seem to. Not yet anyway. I was okay with that. I didn’t care to talk about the Sisters.

  “What are you?” I asked, jumping straight to the question I’d always wanted to ask.

  “A free genie.”

  I blinked. Was he for real?

  When he didn’t smirk or laugh, I knew he was serious.

  “Why wasn’t I able to tell what you are?” I asked, baffled. “And what does being a free genie mean?”

  He held up his index finger and wagged it back and forth. “It’s my turn.” He teased. “Who is it that has you fearful of such a thing occurring?” More sympathy filtered through his eyes as he spoke. It made sense now why he felt that way—he could relate.

  Just because he was a free genie now didn’t mean he always had been.

  “The Sisters,” I whispered as though saying their name out loud would summon them unintentionally.