by Zoe Chant
She was gentle as she turned the hawk over in the net to get a better look at it. Now that she knew what to look for, it was unmistakable. Black eyes stared up at her as she looked at the warm red of its breast. A red-shouldered hawk? They didn’t fly this far west. It was a young, healthy male by the looks of it. “You are definitely not supposed to be here.”
Excitement bubbled up despite her exhaustion. What had brought this specific bird here, so far out of his usual range? Good thing she’d brought her banding equipment with her. “Did you get lost?”
The bird kept staring up at her, and she laughed. Of course he wouldn’t answer. He squawked indignantly when she went back to tugging on the net to get one of his claws free for banding. “Yeah, you didn’t have a good time in that net, did you? Sorry about that. Nothing personal. I wasn’t looking for you, but I’m glad I found you.”
She was used to handling trapped birds. Catching them via nets was the best way to track ones already banded and put rings on ones who didn’t have any yet. If done well, the process was smooth and painless for the birds, but still stressful.
“All right, stay still, I’m going to have to get some pictures of you.” Any bird this far out of range had to get reported. If more red-shouldered hawks turned up, it would be part of a pattern. Were they changing their habitat? Had something chased this one from his previous territory?
The hawk screeched and struggled against the net, his one free wing beating against the air.
She stepped back, waiting for him to tire himself out. “Not a fan of unflattering shots?” She raised the flashlight to get more light on the hawk without blinding it and held up her phone to snap more pictures. “There, all done.” She tucked her phone away, then grabbed her banding gear. She’d need one of her bigger rings for the hawk. “Time to put a ring on it.”
The hawk kept squirming and screeched at her again.
“Not a fan of terrible jokes either? Or are you a commitment-phobe?”
That got her an even louder squawk.
“Okay, okay, I’ll make it quick.” She hated banding with this little sunlight, especially by herself. Having two pairs of hands made things a lot easier, but she couldn’t let him go without banding him. “I’ll have you out of here soon.”
With her flashlight nestled under her armpit, she grabbed hold of one of his legs, making sure his claws couldn’t get to her.
But then the leg rippled against her palm, startling her into letting go. “What the—”
The hawk shuddered, its wings now pressed against his body. He shuddered again, and Madison winced as another strange ripple went through his wing. Was he having a seizure? What could have caused it? She had to take care of him before he got worse.
He puffed up his feathers to make himself look bigger—no, he was growing bigger, feathers rippling again as he did. She dropped the flashlight in her own panic, wondering what she could do to help. Should she free him and never mind the banding?
The shape in the net kept growing until it tore the threads apart, and fell on the ground with a grunt.
A human grunt.
She picked up her flashlight with trembling fingers, her heart racing in her chest. She wasn’t sure what to expect when she aimed it at the shape, but she found a crouching, naked man with the remnants of the net at his feet.
“I can explain!” He held one arm in front of his face and used the other to preserve some dignity.
“Can you?” The light danced on his skin and her arm shook. There’d been a hawk. Now there was a man.
Okay.
That was a thing that had happened.
She took a deep breath and stood up straight. “Right. An explanation. Go on.”
She hoped she sounded steadier than she felt, and she lowered the flashlight slightly so she wouldn’t blind him when he lowered his arm. She tried to look at the trees instead, but her eyes kept flicking back and forth between the trees and his bare shoulders and thighs and everything else. He was around her age, if she had to guess, with an athletic build and dark hairs covering his arms and legs.
Being an associate professor left no time for dating. She had to give lectures, supervise students, grade papers, apply for grants, do her own research, try to get the research published, visit conferences, rinse, repeat. Arranging her teaching so she could come out here for a few weeks had been very tricky. Considering the limited internet reception she had, she already dreaded her email inbox once she got back.
“You’re here to study birds, right?” he asked.
How did he know that? What was going on? But if she wanted to get answers from him, she should answer his question first. “I’m with Pinevale University, yes. But what does that have to do with…” She gestured at him with the flashlight, accidentally shining it in his face and making him flinch. She caught a glimpse of dark eyes and tousled brown hair. “Sorry.” She lowered her flashlight again, biting her lip.
There were definitely worse naked guys to run into in the middle of the forest.
“I can shape-shift into a red-shouldered hawk, and—”
“Yes!” The impulse to crow when she’d correctly identified a bird still hadn’t gone away. “I knew it! You’re not supposed to be here!”
Even with the light aimed at his shins, she caught his glower.
“I mean, that type of hawk is not supposed to be here,” she continued. “Its habitat is more—”
“I know what my habitat is! My hawk’s, I mean! But that’s not the point.”
“Right.” The shape-shifting. How did that work? Could it have been some trick of the light? “I saw you change. How did you do that?” She remembered how the hawk’s wing had rippled. What was it like? Did it hurt?
He shrugged. “It’s no different from cycling or swimming to me. I don’t know exactly how it works.”
“Right.” He sounded sincere and apologetic, but she wondered if he was telling her the complete truth. And if it was like riding a bike, that meant someone had taught him.
There had to be others like him. If there was one person who could turn into an animal, it made sense there were more. As much as anything was making sense today.
“How many of you are there?” she asked.
“I’m the only one who came out here.”
Meaning the rest was somewhere else. “I mean, how many are in your…community?” Where did he live? Did they have a flock? Did he have a nest or a house?
He was silent for a long moment. “Enough.”
She didn’t get the impression he meant that as a threat. He was being vague on purpose. “What brought you here?” She gestured at the remnants of the net on the ground.
He glanced at it too. “Well, you’re a scientist studying birds, so we got worried.”
She frowned at him. “But I didn’t even know shape-shifters existed!” She hadn’t come here to study them. “Not until you got—Oh.” She glanced at the net again. “You don’t like the nets? Have others gotten caught in them?” Had they accidentally gotten banded?
“Not as far as I know,” he replied. “But you’re a scientist. We’re shifters.”
And they were a secret she’d accidentally stumbled across. No wonder the hawk had panicked and struggled so hard to free itself when she’d tried to band him. “And you don’t want to be studied.” Her heart sunk. What was it like to live with such a big secret? “That’s got to be hard.” Knowing that one wrong move could expose you and your kind to, well, her.
“We manage.” He glanced at the net. “Usually.”
She wanted to study this stranger and those like him. Because how could a human turn into a bird? How did he grow those feathers? Where did the extra mass go?
What was it like to fly?
She pushed those questions away for now. This guy, whoever he was, had just had the scare of his life because of her. They had to figure something out, and she could start by introducing herself.
“I’m Doctor Madison Adams from Pinevale University.”
She offered her hand.
He smiled, moving so he could shake her hand without revealing anything indecent. “Simon Miller, security guard at the Pinevale Art and History Museum.”
She let out a laugh, feeling awkward the moment it left her mouth. But she struggled to imagine that someone who could turn into a bird also had a regular job like that. “Sorry. It’s a nice museum. It’s just… you’re a hawk.”
“Hawk shifter,” he told her. “And I still need to eat and pay my mortgage.”
The more he explained, the more questions she had. She could stand here talking to him all night, but Simon mentioning a mortgage meant he had a home to go back to. “Right, of course. I still can’t believe you exist.” He was the most incredible man she’d ever met.
She tried not to think how he’d be in that top ten even without turning into a hawk. The more her eyes adjusted to the growing darkness, the more difficult it was to ignore all that skin right in front of her.
“Likewise.” His voice was warm, and she felt herself blushing.
“It’s getting late. Shouldn’t you be getting home?” she asked. “Can you come back tomorrow and we can talk some more? Is that okay?” He had mentioned they didn’t want to be studied, and she understood that, but she also needed to do her fieldwork on the local birds. Her career depended on it.
“I can do that, but I don’t mind spending more time with you right now and answering your questions. If you like.”
“Definitely! Yes!” Her cheeks reddened further. “If it’s no problem. I mean, I get it if you have to head home and, um, get clothes…”
It would be a shame if he did, though.
“Do you have anything lying around that might fit me?”
She drew a blank. Simon was taller than her, for one, and while she’d brought practical hiker gear, she hadn’t brought anything in a man’s size. Why would she? “I have some sweatpants that might work.” She’d brought them along because they were always handy to have around. “And you can wear my jacket for now.” It was baggy and came to mid-thigh for her, so maybe it would fit him okay. She juggled her flashlight while removing the jacket, and handed it to him. She turned her back to him while he put the jacket on. “Is it okay? Aren’t you cold?”
“I’m all right, thanks. You won’t get cold?”
She looked up at him. It was getting chilly, but she’d be fine for the ten-minute walk back to her tent. And she was absolutely not thinking of ways they could warm each other up.
What was going on with her? She never reacted to guys like this, even if Simon was hot and it had been a long while since she’d dated.
“I’m good,” she replied. “Just gonna grab what’s left of the net. I don’t want other animals to get trapped.”
“Oh crap, I destroyed it, didn’t I? Let me help you.”
She used her flashlight to make sure they had picked everything up.
“What do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry, I budgeted for a couple of extra nets. This always happens.” But this was a reason she couldn’t write in any of her budget reports. “I’ll blame it on wild animals and keep it vague.”
“Thanks.” Simon fell into step next to her when she led the way back to her tent. “For covering for me.”
“What else am I gonna do?” She glanced at him. “No one would believe me. And even if I had evidence, you already said you don’t want to be studied.” Simon and everyone else like him had kept their secret for so long, and it was their secret to keep. “I’m here for birds. Bird-birds.”
Although…
“How long have bird shifters been in this area? Roughly?”
He whistled. “Not sure. My grandparents lived here, so that’s a good long while.”
They walked slowly and carefully through the dark forest, the light from her flashlight dancing across the ground and the trees while she thought. “And you turn into a bird that’s not native to the area. I’m guessing more people from your town do that? Turn into uncommon birds?”
“Oh yeah, there’re all kinds of birds shifters back home, and non-bird shifters as well. There’s a wolf family, and—”
“So if we have records of birds outside their usual habitat, that could be because of shifters?” she asked, before she got side-tracked by the million other questions she had.
“It’s possible.” He eyed her. “Is that bad?”
“Kinda!” She gestured with the flashlight. “I study migratory patterns. If I collect data, I want to collect data on birds who actually migrate. Not humans who turn into birds and happen to fly around during migration season!” Her annoyance warred with her confusion and curiosity, and she knew it was ridiculous to take it out on Simon. If it hadn’t been for him, she still wouldn’t have known.
“Oh.”
She considered the data she’d gathered. The data the department had gathered. The unusual bird-sightings that got reported around the country. Around the world. How much of that was inaccurate because of shifters? How would they even figure that out? Her annoyance won. “You may have ruined scientific research and all I get is ‘oh’?” She let out a huff, anger and frustration welling up as she quickened her pace.
“I’m sorry?” he tried. “I never thought about it like that. We’ve always worried about scientists discovering us and locking us up in labs. I didn’t think you’d be annoyed that we’re messing up your data.”
She slowed down, feeling ridiculous and thoroughly ashamed. Here she was, worrying over research, while he worried over people. He had a point. She was used to her research being her number one priority, and her colleagues at work were the same. Research came first, followed by all the paperwork that came with the research, followed by teaching, followed by paperwork related to teaching.
She’d almost forgotten that that was the exception, not the rule. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a weekend where she hadn’t taken her work home. There was always some deadline looming on the horizon. If it wasn’t a scientific article she needed to submit, she had student papers to grade. Late evenings in the office were normal to her. Her new colleagues had mentioned it a few times during a lunch break, appreciating her drive and dedication, but warning her she could end up burned out if she wasn’t mindful. They told her she had to prioritize and delegate more to the teaching assistants.
It didn’t help that her apartment was so quiet and empty. She hadn’t had the time to unpack beyond the basics and make her new place feel like a home.
What did it say about her that she felt more at home in her office than in her apartment?
Embarrassed, she shook her head. “You’re right. If scientists found out, you’d end up in a lab. Of course you don’t tell people.”
“But if you want to figure out how and where birds migrate, then we disrupt that,” Simon told her. “Regular birds avoid us bird shifters.”
“So they might avoid your town altogether?” He hadn’t mentioned the name of the town, but she understood why he kept that a secret. “But not these woods?”
“I think they avoid the town because there’s a lot of us in one place. But when we go flying, we spread out more, so I guess we’re not as scary. Maybe they avoid the parts of the woods where we enjoy flying, though. I don’t know.”
Part of her wondered how she could research that, but she reminded herself that Simon didn’t want to be studied. “So regular birds can tell you’re not actually a bird?”
“Yep. I know what birds are like towards other birds, but they treat me differently. Not just because I’m a hawk,” he added. “I think it’s because the way I behave isn’t how a regular bird behaves, even if I can do everything a hawk does.”
She nodded at that. “You weren’t raised by birds, and you don’t live as one twenty-four seven. Interesting.”
“If it’s interesting, does that mean I’m forgiven for ruining your research?” He bumped his shoulder against hers.
She laughed. “Yes, you are. Of course you were more
worried about us deciding to study you than the birds.” She’d just had a massive shock, but that didn’t mean she could take her confusion and anger out on him. She didn’t think she could be angry at him for long, anyway. It was weird. She was walking through the dark woods with some guy she’d just met and taking him back to her tent, but she wasn’t in the least worried he might hurt her. She felt comfortable around him, as if this wasn’t the first time they’d met. “So long as you continue to be interesting.”
“Oh, I can do that.” His voice was low, and she definitely wasn’t imagining the suggestive tone.
A shiver ran down her back. She couldn’t wait to find out exactly how interesting he was.
3. Simon
He wished he could see Madison in broad daylight. He wanted to see her smile and laugh and frown. So far, she was handling his explanations well, although he had little to compare it to. She was the only non-shifter he’d ever had to explain everything to, and she was a scientist.
Our mate would not lock us up, his hawk insisted.
And he knew she wouldn’t. She’d been understanding and curious, and he knew she’d keep asking him questions for the rest of their lives, but he looked forward to that. He hoped she had more questions he didn’t know the answer to so they could find out together. Normal birds avoided him and other bird shifters, but how much? For how long? No one back home had looked into it. His parents had put up bird feeders in the backyard a few winters ago, but the only birds who visited were peckish neighbors. Her questions roused his own curiosity.
Along with other things.
She’s taking us back to her nest! We shall build a stronger one together.
He wouldn’t rush into things. Yes, she was leading him back to her tent, but they’d only just met and she didn’t know about their connection. He should be happy she wanted to spend more time with him. If all she wanted to do tonight was talk, he would love that. He wanted to learn more about her and how she ended up at Pinevale University. Where else had she been to study birds? How did she drink her coffee in the morning?