“So what happens? There is no punishment from disobeying. You disobeyed and apart from your finger, you seem fine.”
“Technically, I haven’t outright disobeyed the order. Not yet,” Cole said. “I just haven’t carried it out yet. And there is definitely a punishment. “He touched the ring, and winced again.
“It’s that painful?”
He nodded. “Every hour I spend away from my master, the pain grows worse. I am magically bound to the Morchard family, until they willingly release me. The ring is what enables Victor to control me, to use my power for himself. It’s what forces my body to obey whatever he commands of me. I’m trying to fight it, but I’m weakening. In a couple of days I’ll be crawling back toward the castle, begging for him to forgive me.”
His casual tone startled me. How could he be so calm, with such a terrible burden hanging over his head. And what happened if he couldn’t fight the pain? “Can you break the link?”
Cole shook his head. “Not yet, but at the moment, that’s the least of my worries.”
“The fact you are in agony is the least of your worries? You’re nuts. What was the order, anyway?”
“Victor Morchard had sold me to another family. Apparently, he had some debts to pay off, and this new family were in need of a Bran, so an exchange was agreed. My new master – Sir Thomas Gillespie – is currently travelling to Loamshire from the north to make the exchange.”
“You mean, Thomas Gillespie the politician?”
“The one and same. The politician and ancient vampire.”
Vampire? My head was starting to hurt. “I can’t believe this.”
“Believe it. Gillespie is over four hundred years old, drinks the blood of humans for pleasure, and he holds no life sacred. As soon as he discovers I have run from the Morchards, he will punish them, which I’m not so upset about. But then, he will come after me, and if he catches me, I will be begging them for death before the end. As much as I loathe my master’s family, Sir Thomas would be much worse. His kind take pleasure in pain and death. He would force me to do evil things, abominable things.”
Cole’s voice dripped with hatred. He balled his hands into fists, his rage bubbling just beneath his skin. His dark eyes turned cold, their depths stormy. He hated this new master and his family, whoever they were. But why? What have they done?
“How do you know what he will make you do?” I asked nervously, my fingers squeezing the straw in my drink. I didn’t want to upset Cole any further, but I needed to know.
“I know,” Cole whispered, his eyes on fire.
“But how? Is that one of your secrets?”
“He killed my father, Belinda. He shot my father from the sky, without reason or remorse. And then he drained him of blood.”
“Cole, I—”
“That’s it,” he hissed, cutting me off. “You know all you need to know. I don’t want to talk about it any longer.”
Our food arrived then, along with a folded note. I reached for it, but Cole beat me to it. He unfolded the note, frowning as he read it. I tried to lean over his shoulder to look at its contents, but Cole hid it against his chest.
“I thought we weren’t going to have any secrets.”
Cole stuffed the note into his pocket. “We’re not. But right now, I need to figure out a few things before I tell you about them. Sometimes it is safer for you if you are kept in the dark. Secrets can get you killed. You have to trust me on that, Belinda.”
You have to trust me. That was the second time he’d spoken about trust that night. I gazed into his eyes again, and the storm there was fading. He took another drink, and when he put the pint back down on the table, he was back to his old, mischievous Cole again.
“So what about you?” he said, reaching across the table and taking my hand in his. I gasped as he turned my hand over and stroked a finger over my wrist, the sensitive skin tingling beneath his touch. I remembered that he’d called this evening a date, and gulped back a mouthful of gin. “I’ve spoken about my life, so now I want to know why this brilliant baker is breaking down into tears at the thought of losing a little business? Why is your apartment so empty? Why can’t you afford to hire anyone when you’re clearly the most popular bakery in town?”
“I’m really bad with numbers?” I stared up at Cole hopefully, my pulse quickening in fear. Now that it had come to my turn, I didn’t want to tell him about it, to open my mouth and admit that I was failing, that I couldn’t keep my shop afloat.
But I had promised, and Cole had kept his end of the bargain. I owed him my big secret.
I picked up my glass and downed the rest in one long gulp. Courage thus imparted, I took a deep breath, and squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t bear to look at him, to see his face as I spilled the whole story – my quiet, silent shame. With tears forming in my eyes, I told him about falling for Ethan, about dreaming of our wedding and our future together, about coming home to that empty house and finding out he’d gone on the run with all my stuff, about the police shutting the shop, and discovering the debt.
“I feel as if I’m drowning. I keep kicking my feet and pulling my head above the water, but land is so far away and I’m so very tired. I keep telling myself it’s only a few more years, and then the debt will be paid off and I’ll be free. But—” my voice cracked. “I’m so lost. I don’t know what to do. I’m so stupid for not seeing through Ethan’s lies. This is what you get for being stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.” Cole’s voice was so harsh, it made me jump. My eyes flew open, the tears trapped inside spilling down my cheeks. He stared at me across the table with a deep, intense gaze. He looked livid. “This is fucking bullshit. It’s ridiculous that you’re being punished for that man’s crimes.”
I shrugged, trying to hide my tears behind nonchalance. “It’s what I deserve. I took on the responsibility of the business. It’s not the government’s fault that I was dating a criminal.”
“Don’t do that.” Cole leaned across the table, so his forehead touched mine. He picked up my hands and squeezed them tightly. His eyes were so intense that they unnerved me. “Nightingale, I don’t want to hear you say things like that. Don’t fucking blame yourself. If you take the blame, then that bastard wins.”
“But I—”
“But nothing. You are the victim here, nothing more. You don’t have to own it. You did nothing wrong, and you shouldn’t have to live with the consequences of his actions. Your shop cannot become your prison.”
“I—” I started to protest, to explain that I had to take responsibility for my part in it, for not seeing what Ethan really was sooner, for being so blinded by him that I hadn’t paid attention. But all that came out was a choked sob.
And as soon as that sob came out, more followed. Huge, sniffling sobs that rocked my whole body. My breakdown in the shop this morning was nothing compared to this outpouring of raw emotion. My chest felt tight, crushed beneath the weight of my pain. Cole kept a hold of my hands while I rocked against the table like a fool, tears and snot running down my face.
“Belinda.” Cole dropped my hands and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I sobbed against his broad chest, my snotty face making a mess of his beautiful new shirt. He smelled like my deodorant, and something deep and woody and comforting. Like Fauntelroy Park in the midst of spring. The warmth of his skin surrounded me, like a hot bath washing away all my cares.
It felt so good.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry—” I cried, trying to wipe my snot off his shirt, but only succeeding in making a bigger mess.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. He’ll be sorry,” Cole growled, as he steadied me on my seat. “This Ethan better hope he’s really good at hiding, because ravens are very good at finding things, and when I find him, I’m going to make sure his soul doesn’t find the underworld for a very, very long time.”
Cole switched to talking about lighter subjects, movies and music and books, while we ate our food. I calmed
down a bit, but once I’d started crying I couldn’t seem to stop. I couldn’t even taste the peanut butter cheesecake. We finished quickly, and then Cole wrapped his arm around me and let me outside. Once I got into the crisp night air, I calmed down even more. I wiped my face again, and took a deep breath, my stomach no longer churning and flipping quite as badly as before. My cheeks and nose felt hot and sticky from all the tears. I was glad I couldn’t see myself in a mirror – I knew my makeup would have smudged. I probably looked like a crack-addicted raccoon. “I’m a mess.” I groaned.
“I was going to say you looked like a vaudeville meerkat.” Cole squeezed my arm. I snorted, and held onto him tighter. “But I still think you look beautiful. I like my girls with a bit of character. Come on, it’s getting late, and we have bread to bake in the morning. Let’s get you home.”
I relaxed into his shoulder, allowing the warmth of his body to calm me. My stomach flipped again, but this time it wasn’t from sadness. I suddenly became very aware of his hand brushing against the side of my breast.
Don’t be ridiculous, I told myself. You look like a vaudeville meerkat. He’s not interested in sleeping with you, not when you’re such a mess. He’s just being nice. And besides, you’re not interested in him, either, remember? Sleeping with Cole would be a very, very bad idea. You’ll only wind up getting hurt, especially since he’s messed up in this whole rogue shifter thing.
Cole’s warmth radiated through my body, his hand on the small of my back burning through my jacket. You’re not interested … not at all ...
Cole stumbled on the curb, his injured leg momentarily collapsing. “Fuck,” he gritted his teeth, as he pulled me back under his arm. “Sorry about that. I’m not quite certain who’s holding up who, here.”
In all the excitement, I’d completely forgotten about his leg. I hoped it hadn’t got any worse. I noticed that as Cole helped me up the stairs, he stayed off the injured leg.
When we were inside the apartment, I told Cole to take off his jeans.
“Well,” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not used to the lady being so forward.”
I stared at my bare feet, my cheeks flaring with heat. In my already delicate state, I felt a lump burning in my throat. I was dangerously close to crying again. Why did I keep saying this kind of thing around him? It was like I couldn’t help it, all my words go jumbled and all that came out was filthy and he clearly wasn’t interested in me like that, he just loved teasing, and so I was just embarrassing myself. “I didn’t mean like that. I just want to have a look at your leg. You’ve been walking on it a bit tonight.”
“As you wish.” Cole kicked off his jeans, and stretched out along the couch, his boxers doing little to disguise the bulge between his legs. I blushed deeper as I bent over his thigh, deliberately keeping my eyes focused on the wound. “It looks a lot better, actually.” I said matter-of-factly. “But it still hurts?”
“Oh yes, especially when I put weight on it. But it’s getting better. I barely notice it now through the pain from the ring. The big test is if it will stop me from flying.” Cole said.
“Should you find out?” I gestured to the room. “Go on, change into a bird and fly.”
Cole looked serious for a moment. “Belinda, are you sure you want to see that? At the moment, all this shifter stuff is theoretical to you, but once you see me change, that’s it. You’ll never be able to look at the world the same way again.”
“Cole, it’s fine. It’s more important that you get better. I can’t do anything about magical bonds, but at least I can help you heal your leg.”
“No,” he grabbed my arm. “No, Belinda, you need to be sure. My world is not the nicest place to be at times. I’ve already involved you more than I ever wished to, by allowing you to bring me here, and by staying.”
“That’s right, I’m involved already. So just change into the damn bird.” I walked across the room, and closed the door to my bathroom, locking away Chairman Meow, who was sound asleep in the sink.
“As you wish.” Cole stood up and pulled off the snot-covered shirt. Now he wore only his new boxer shorts, black socks and that black ring around his finger. I saw that the skin around the ring was even more red and angry than this morning. It must be excruciating. Cole stared intently at a corner of the room. Neither of us said anything. I leaned against the wall, curious to see what a shift would look like.
At first, Cole didn’t seem to change at all. The thought crossed my mind that maybe he had been playing me this whole time, but it was quickly dismissed when I saw his nose grow.
It extended out from his face, growing long and thin and turning black at the end as though he’d got frostbite. His strong chin extruded also, and the two came together as his face distorted, stretching and tapering, the skin becoming hard and brittle, the nostrils elongating until he became unrecognisable.
Cole threw his deformed head back and thrust his arms out. From his chest sprouted black feathers, growing out from his skin so that it seemed as if his tattoos came to life. His arm bones cracked and snapped as they grew longer, and thin bones extended out from his skin, sinew forming between them. All along his arms, the black feathers sprouted, growing larger as they fanned out to cover his skin. As they moved over each other, they rustled like autumn leaves being blown across the ground.
As I watched in horror, transfixed by the strange display before me, Cole shrank down toward the floor. His body pulled itself inward, becoming more compact, folding in on itself like a collapsible tent. His knees bent backwards, cracking loudly as they moved back from his torso, completely altering his centre of gravity. Cole leaned forward, his beak tapping the ground, and from his arse sprouted a wedge-shaped tail. He was now completely coated in silky black feathers, and he turned up to look at me. All that was left of the Cole I knew was those piercing, intelligent eyes.
Caw? The raven croaked.
“That’s amazing,” I breathed.
Cole nodded. He took a few steps across the floor, his injured leg supporting his weight without much effort. Behind me, Chairman Meow clawed at the door, wailing that his new bird friend was waiting to play with him.
“Everything looks good so far,” I said, suddenly feeling very odd talking to a bird and knowing he understood me. I talked to Chairman Meow all the time but I knew in the back of my head he was wondering why I couldn’t stop yammering so he could sleep in peace. “Can you fly?”
The raven hopped up on to the counter and launched himself over the edge. I lunged forward, certain he was going to drop straight on to the floor and injure himself further, but two enormous black wings unfurled elegantly from its body. They flapped twice, lifting Cole up toward the ceiling. He seemed a little shaky at first, but quickly found his groove. Soon he was zooming around the dim lightbulb in lopsided circles.
“Yay, Cole!” I clapped. It might have been my imagination, but the way the crow’s beak was shaped, it almost appeared as if he were grinning.
Croak! Cole announced, and flew down the stairwell. Before I could follow him, he zoomed past again, this time heading for my bedroom. “Hey!” I called after him. “Stay out of my underwear drawer!”
All I heard in reply was a defiant squawk.
While Cole was flying around in my bedroom, I spied his jeans lying on the floor. The note Mikael had given him peeked out of the pocket. My fingers itched to grab it. After all, it had something do with Cole, which meant that it concerned me. If either one of these families were coming after him, it could place the bakery in danger.
No, I told myself. It’s Cole’s business. It’s up to him to tell you what’s in the note. You promised him that you’d trust him, so don’t break that promise a mere two hours later.
I heard a thud. Startled, I looked up, feeling guilty for even thinking about reading the note. Behind the bathroom door, Chairman Meow howled about injustice. Cole walked out of the bedroom in his naked, human form.
“I can fly,” he said, pumping his fist in the air. �
��And my leg feels a lot better. You know your stuff, Nightingale.”
His leg did look a lot better. I stared at it in awe, trying hard not to allow my gaze to wander to other parts of him. It was strange, because a wound that deep and nasty shouldn’t have healed up so fast. I mentioned this to Cole, and he nodded.
“Bran heal faster than typical humans,” he explained. “It’s got something to do with the inherent energy required to sustain our ability to shapeshift. All shapeshifting species heal incredibly quickly.”
“Wow, that’s a pretty cool superpower,” I said, still avoiding looking at his body. “Are you immortal?”
Cole snorted. “That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? All these aristocratic families with the same Bran serving them generation after generation. They wouldn’t even have to train a new butler. No, I’m not immortal, as I may well discover if I can’t find some way to get this damn ring off. By the way, I may have landed on your bed. It’s not very soft.”
I sighed. “Tell me about it. Are you going to put some clothes on?”
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? All of this making you nervous?” Cole ran his hands over his taut chest and muscular thighs. Damn. I bit my lip. He was so cocky, so sure of himself. And he looked so good. I wondered what that chest would feel like pressed up against my back—
I pretended to be busy making a cup of tea, so he couldn’t see me blushing. “I just figured you’d be sick of walking around without them. Or at least you’d like to take a shower. You don’t want to end up like me, always smelling faintly of bread.”
“I like the way you smell. It reminds me of being in the kitchens at the castle before a big feast.” He yawned and stretched his arms above his head. “That shower sounds like a great idea.”
“Fine, but open that door at your peril. The Chairman is ready to go postal.”
“I think you’d better take care of that. If you could keep that cat in with you again, I’d appreciate it. I think he can smell raven on me.”
Watcher: A raven paranormal romance (Crookshollow ravens Book 1) Page 9