Raven Born: An Urban Fantasy Shifter Series (Lost Souls Series Book 1)

by Bree Moore

  Then Harper tilted down and the fear clenched at Tyson again. She touched down in the driveway in front of the lodge and nearly dropped him. He stumbled a few feet, then straightened. He rolled his arms in their sockets, armpits sore. His mind reeled between terror and gratitude. He stared at Harper and those black wings arching from her back. Wings that just saved his life.

  She watched Tyson with her hands on her knees in a hunched position, and he realized she was catching her breath. Did demi-gods get winded? Looking at her now, demi-god seemed too strong a word. She might be descended from some divine being, but the gene pool had almost certainly been diluted. Gifted or blessed, then.

  The moment stretched out between them. It was too quiet on the gravel driveway for having been assaulted and nearly killed.

  The front door flung wide, and Lilith rushed out. “Tyson! Thank the goddess.” She hurried down the steps and threw her arms around him. Maybe someone would have cared if he’d died. Even Harper came after him and he thought she would be the last one to care. Tyson looked over Lilith’s shoulder at Harper, who stood off to the side with her arms folded, frowning at them. He smiled at her and the frown deepened.

  Lilith released him and stepped back, glancing over his body. She tsked, her hand going to his right cheek. “Oh, dear. We’ll need to do something about that.”

  Tyson reached up. His right cheek felt sticky, and when he took his fingers away, the tips were covered in drying blood.

  Lilith addressed Harper. “Violet wants to see you. She’s not happy.” Her sympathetic tone had a hard edge to it, so unlike her that Tyson blinked in shock.

  “Of course not. I only saved someone’s life.” Harper’s voice was sharp with bitterness. Her feet crunched against the gravel as she walked. Tucked tightly against her back, the lowest feathers of her wing tips brushed the ground. Tyson walked beside Harper, following Lilith.

  “Thank you for that, by the way.” Tyson’s face felt hot on the injured side. Now that he knew it was there, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  “Sure.” Harper picked at an invisible thread on the hem of her shirt.

  Why pretend indifference? Most people didn’t fly off to save someone from certain death at the expense of their safety. Especially not someone they hated, and she’d made it pretty clear that she didn’t like Tyson. It didn’t make any sense. He wanted to ask her about it, but with Lilith there, he was sure Harper wouldn’t admit to anything.

  The group walked through the front door and up the stairs in silence. Because Lilith’s room was beside the apothecary, they were headed to the same part of the house. Every once in a while, the edge of Harper’s wings brushed against Tyson’s arm. They were softer than he expected.

  Most everyone seemed to be gathered in the common room for movie night. Mandi stood at the top of the stairs and grabbed Lilith’s arm as she passed, whispering in her ear.

  Lilith gave a tight nod and continued. Mandi stared sightlessly with her milk-white eyes as Tyson and Harper passed.

  They arrived at the apothecary and Harper paused with her hand on the door. What was she waiting for? Her gaze was somehow softer than usual.

  “I’m not sorry for the things I said. Most of them. But the way I said them…” She looked toward the ceiling. “My tone was harsh. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks.” It sounded abrupt and lame, but Tyson couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  Harper grimaced and pushed on the wooden door, letting herself into the apothecary.

  “Tyson?” Lilith called, already standing in her room next door. She smiled. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

  Her room was dimly lit with lava lamps. Dozens lined the walls on shelves, all of different colors.

  “I’ve never seen so many of these in one place.” Tyson gazed at the floating, colored blobs of light.

  Lilith laughed. The light cast grey and purple shadows across her skin. “I love them, don’t you? So soothing. Now, I know you’re usually the one to talk others through their traumatic experiences, but I think you might benefit from the same treatment. What made you run off into the forest alone before a storm?” Her eyes gleamed, reflecting the dozens of multi-colored lava lamps.

  Tyson squirmed where he stood, avoiding Lilith’s gaze. Put that way, it sounded pretty idiotic. “Harper had an appointment with me. She…she got under my skin. I needed some air. Didn’t mean to go far, but the forest, it moved I think.”

  “We’ve been trying to catch Meredith for some time now. She’s a troublemaker.” Lilith said with a chuckle. As if warping someone’s surroundings and transporting them to a distant location was a mild inconvenience, like throwing rocks at a neighbor’s cat or tying people’s shoelaces together. Her hands reached and brought a white box down from a shelf.

  Wait, Meredith? He’d heard that name before. “Isn’t she, like, nine?”

  Lilith lined up her supplies: a small jar, some gauze, little white bandages. Every movement was deliberate, done with an air of grace most people would envy. “Thirteen when she arrived, actually. Very small for her age, though.”

  “And now she’s…?” Tyson didn’t remember her being brought in, which meant she got to the camp and joined the rogues before he started his internship.

  “Seventeen, I believe.” Lilith lifted a cotton ball to Tyson’s face and dabbed. The alcohol-soaked cotton stung. Tyson flexed his hands at his sides and bit his lip to keep from crying out.

  “She’s been hiding for four years?”

  “Nearly. She was part of the first group of rogues we had, and has escaped every effort to capture her. Hard to contain someone who can warp anywhere they want to. Within the wards, of course.”

  How did they get her to the camp in the first place?

  “She was brought to us.” Lilith explained, as if she could hear Tyson’s mental chatter. She set down the cotton ball and scooped some salve in her fingers. “Now hold still, this will soothe that sting right away, but I don’t want to go smearing it all over your face.”

  Tyson stared forward and resisted asking more questions. Camp Silver Lake officially opened six years ago. He had just started college.

  His face tingled from the goop she put on it.

  Lilith wiped her fingers on a small towel and picked up some gauze and tape. “You can always check her file if you want to learn more about her.”

  Her mention of records reminded Tyson of Reya and her family. Lilith had been at the camp longer than he had, and she seemed like a safe person to ask. He waited impatiently to respond while she covered his face with the bandage.

  “There. Not pretty, but it should heal pretty quickly.” Lilith smiled.

  “Thank you.” Tyson hesitated for a moment. “Lilith, I’ve noticed something, looking through the files of past residents.”

  “Hm?” Her attention seemed focused on packing up the first aid kit.

  “When I search for the names of some I know should be in there, I don’t find anything. The database seems to have been tampered with, or something.” Tyson squirmed. He hated even mentioning it knowing that if it was true, someone here that should be trusted had something to do with it.

  “Could be. Not what you’re thinking, though. Magic and technology don’t get along well. We’ve had files wiped, sent randomly to different camps, buried deep in the hard drive…though fortunately never published to the public.”

  That would be a disaster. The identities of Naturalized individuals were kept secret for their protection. If their neighbors knew they were reformed witches, vampires, and shifters, the bloodshed would never end. Knowing that paranormals were managed was enough for most people, and the civilian Hunts had mostly died out. A few rebel groups out there caused trouble once in a while, but the Naturalization laws in place prevent them from getting away with murder. Too many innocents mistaken for paranormal beings over the years due to paranoia. No one wanted a repeat of the Salem trials. Or the New York trials. Or
...

  “So, the files are just…gone, then?”

  Lilith cocked her head to the side, considering, and clasped the first aid kit shut before setting it aside. “Violet keeps a written record of every paranormal who has gone through here. Has kept it longer than the camp has officially run. She’s picky about who she lets see them, though. Is there a specific reason you’re asking?”

  Tyson stared at the wall, aware that Lilith watched him. No need to launch into a sob story about a long-lost childhood friend. He tapped his hand against his leg and shook his head.

  “Thank you, Lilith.”

  “Of course.”

  A loud thud came from next door. The apothecary. Tyson swallowed. “Should we go see what that was?”

  Lilith’s face held a passive expression. “Oh, no. I’m certain something was just dropped. Violet is quite a capable witch. She can freeze even the fastest of paranormals before they cause her any trouble.”

  Tyson shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t Violet he worried for, but Harper. She’d tried to escape and that had failed. Was she having a mental breakdown? How would Violet react to that?

  “We’ll take care of Harper.” Lilith’s voice soothed over Tyson’s fears. It had to be some kind of magical influence, but at the moment he welcomed the pleasant numbness tingling in his hands and feet.

  He tried to form words into a response, but his mouth wouldn’t obey. A gentle rapping came at the door.

  Lilith sauntered over, hips sashaying, and opened it. “James! What a surprise.”

  “Tyson, what happened?” James pushed into the room, then glanced at Lilith. “Do you mind if I speak to him privately in here for a moment? Violet is using the apothecary.”

  “Of course.” Lilith said, a little too brightly. She stepped from the room and into the dark hall. The light from the lava lamps glinted off her eyes, making them flash orange and purple before the door closed.

  Tyson had an idea why James wanted to speak to him. “Why don’t you want Lilith to know what I tell you?”

  James straightened his glasses. The orange and purple lights reflected off of them, too. It made everything look ethereal and a bit spooky, now. Less amazing and more unsettling.

  Tyson crossed his arms. “This is about Harper, isn’t it?”

  “She didn’t simply find you, did she? Violet saw the rogues. She couldn’t see anything after they attacked you. It went...fuzzy. Her visions never lose connection like that.”

  Tyson rocked up on the balls of his feet, then back onto his heels. He stuck his hands in his pockets. A sudden agitation made him tilt his head side to side, considering. He had promised to tell them everything he found out about Harper’s abilities and her lineage, but he was still trying to figure this one out for himself.

  “She can sing. No.” Tyson shook his head. “Sing isn’t the right word. But it isn’t a whistle, either. Every rogue within earshot froze. It’s like they were spelled or entranced.”

  “But you weren’t?”

  “It didn’t seem to affect me. It couldn’t hold onto my mind.”

  James visibly startled. “So it was mind control? Tyson, you’re human. Does that mean her ability only works on supernaturals?”

  Tyson shrugged. “She didn’t explain it to me. All I know is when the singing stopped, so did the rogues. They collapsed. I didn’t dare check to see if any of them were still breathing. We just got out of there as quickly as possible.”

  “She flew with you?”

  “Yes.” Tyson drew his lips together. The agitation had spread to his left hand, which was shaking at his side. He pressed it against his jeans, hoping James wouldn’t notice. Why did he feel like he shouldn’t have said anything?

  James stared at Tyson thoughtfully. “She didn’t give you any explanation? None at all?”

  “No. And asking about her family...well, it’s a sore spot. Her parents are from Alaska, that’s all I got.”

  James clapped his hands together and held them up to his mouth. He glanced to Tyson. “Do you know what this means?”

  Tyson shook his head.

  James clapped a hand on Tyson’s shoulder. “First of all, it means you’ve as good as gotten that promotion. You’ll have my signature and Violet’s, guaranteed.” His hand dropped and his grin widened. “Second, it means I could be the first warlock to unlock the secrets of the Raven born.”

  A warning prickled in Tyson’s chest. “She doesn’t know anything, James. How do you plan to discover anything about her and her people?”

  James’ glasses gleamed orange as he turned. “There are ways.”

  The words had an ominous tone. Tyson meant to ask him about his methods, and whether they were ethical, or even legal, when another, slightly more alarming thought occurred to him. “Do you think she’s dangerous to the other residents? The rogues were warded by Violet at one point. Harper’s singing...it circumvented their protection, somehow.”

  James frowned, eyebrows drawing inward and creating deep creases in his forehead. “You’re right. I hadn’t considered… They might have done something to their wards, making them ineffective. I will speak to Violet.”

  There was still a gleam in James’ eyes that Tyson didn’t like, but when he opened his mouth to ask his next question, the room visibly darkened.

  The lava lamps dimmed, and the air closed around Tyson and James, the temperature dropping. The electricity flickered.

  James reeled around and bolted for the door. “Stay here!” he shouted at Tyson over his shoulder.

  Tyson ignored him, following the warlock into the hall and freezing outside the apothecary. He glimpsed Violet standing too close to Harper, her hand raised in a tight claw, and Harper’s bone-white, panicked face, before James flung the door shut behind him. All sound cut off. Tyson reached for the door handle and jerked it, but it didn’t budge. A spell had been activated.

  No one would be going in, or coming out, until it was lifted.

  Chapter Nine

  Harper

  Tyson’s phone burned in the front pocket of Harper’s jeans. He’d dropped it when they landed. She’d meant to return it to him, but everything had moved too fast. Or so she told herself. There had been time, but she wanted to double-check the name she saw on the screen.

  Violet didn’t look up as Harper entered, as usual. The witch’s hair sat on the back of her head in a tight bun and she wore a suit coat and pants. It created a discordance in Harper’s brain seeing a business professional grinding herbs and rubbing crystals together. If she could ignore Harper for just a minute longer…

  Harper slipped Tyson’s phone out and swiped the screen. It lit up, revealing a white box with a blurb for the latest email received, including the sender.

  Becca. There was a chance it wasn’t Tyson’s cousin, Becca, that he knew someone else by that name who would email him. Harper’s excitement drowned out practicality. Becca could lead her to Quinn. She might even convince Tyson to help.

  Harper jammed the phone back in her pocket, and her fingers brushed the red crystal the blind woman had given her earlier. She felt a jolt, followed with a surge of confidence and energy.

  She cleared her throat.

  Violet’s hand froze, hovering over a bowl with a handful of flower petals. She crushed them slowly, sprinkling them into the bowl, then mixed the contents of the wood bowl with her fingers.

  “You shifted.”

  It wasn’t a question, so Harper didn’t answer. Violet’s hands pressed down flat on the countertop.

  “Didn’t I make it clear that you must wait twelve hours before using your wings? Can you not follow even the simplest of directions?” Her voice held steady, but beneath the calm Harper sensed a tremor, like the precursor to an earthquake. Harper shifted her feet, wishing she could be anywhere but there.

  “I found Tyson.” Harper knew as she spoke that it wouldn’t matter. She’d known people like Violet before. You followed their rules
or paid the price.

  Violet spun around and stalked toward Harper, a storm in her grey eyes. “We had a team searching for him. You weren’t needed. You jeopardized yourself in a tremendous way, and you undid all of my previous work.” Her clawed hands dug into Harper’s shoulders and turned her to see her back. Harper spread her wings to make it easier, wincing as the witch prodded her spine and shoulder blades.

  “They wouldn’t have gotten there in time. I almost didn’t.”

  Violet’s hand ran along the base of Harper’s right wing, then her left, making her shudder. Violet was feeling for injuries, but it felt like a violation. Harper forced herself to stand still and avoid yanking her wings from the witch’s tight grip.

  “While you are here, if you are to have any hope of your application being accepted, you do as you are asked by myself, my husband, and Lilith.” But not Tyson. Violet seemed to ignore anything Harper said about Tyson. Did she not care for him?

  “Tyson would have died if I hadn’t ‘disobeyed’ you,” Harper emphasized.

  “I can’t encourage your behavior, Harper. No matter your motives. There must be consequences.” Her hands moved on from Harper’s wings, and Harper breathed a sigh of relief until Violet’s head slid close to hers.

  “You are Quinn’s sister.” Her whispered words dripped like poison into Harper’s ear.

  She swallowed past the dryness in her mouth and licked her lips. What would she care about Quinn?

  “He was here,” Violet’s voice lilted in a tantalizing sort of way. Her eyes dragged across Harper’s face, searching for her response.

  What did she want? “I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him for years.” Harper’s jaw tightened.

  “Oh, I don’t care where he is. His capture isn’t my responsibility.”

  It wasn’t? Harper gulped down the urge to say the words out loud and waited. Violet ran her fingers across the surface of a large wooden table then picked her fingers up and examined them.

  “As soon as he left, he became a rogue. Rogues are hunted. Rogues are terminated.” She snarled the last word, and Harper jerked. “Do you have any idea what his escape cost us? The administrators trusted us. They responded to our needs readily, they were willing to help. Now?”