Fur and Feathers [A Raven Saga Book 2]

by Crymsyn R. Hart

  "Don't you think it's time you get home? Your mother is going to be worried about you," Darius telegraphed to his teenage charge.

  Jonathan stopped, his chest heaving from diving, and stared up through uneven mocha bangs. Darius could make out one green eye and freckled skin from the mop Jonathan called his hair. “Naw. Mom's working late. Besides, you have to worry about other things besides me. I'll be fine."

  The Raven Warrior shifted on the branch. He despised the cold weather in the mortal realm. He yearned to be curled up next to a fire with a fine woman. But he hadn't had a woman in the four centuries he had been a Warrior. Each time he had tried to have sex, he immediately began turning back into a raven. Like all his brothers, he was celibate and learned to focus his energy when he was in human form to fighting or drinking. Anything to take his mind off his fate. Trapped forever in the body of a raven, serving the Dark Goddess Morrigain and Betha the Banshee Queen, protecting charges who were important to the magickal community until his curse was broken or he died in battle. Something about what the youngster had told him made him shiver under his feathers.

  What did he have to worry about? He had no cares or true freedoms. He was bound to servitude because he had fucked around on a woman. Stupid witch, he muttered.

  "I heard that, Darius. Don't you think it's time you tried to have a girlfriend? Not all girls are bad! Jenny Hastings at school is kinda cute. She has braces though, but man, she has some great—"

  "Jonathan, you're too young to be thinking about girls. And what did I tell you about eavesdropping on my thoughts? It's not polite. Trust me. Women are nothing but trouble. All of them! Especially the magickal ones. I hate them worst of all."

  "Whatever! I'm just saying—"

  "I don't need advice from a fourteen-year-old mortal. Now run along home before it gets too dark." Darius felt the irritation in the boy, but he paid Jonathan no mind. Something else had gotten his attention. On the wind, he heard a squeal, the screech of a banshee. He looked down and checked on Jonathan, who also had stopped stomping the leaves and was listening to the wind screaming through the branches. Clouds were rolling in covering the rising moon. Darius sensed there would be snow tonight even though they were not near winter. To mortal ears, the banshee wail was nothing more than an agonized gale taunting the trees. But he heard the howl loud and clear vibrating in his soul like a sorrowful lone note from a bagpipe. He was being summoned. He had to obey.

  "You'll be all right, kid, to make it home?"

  Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Yes, oh mighty protector. I promise I'll go straight home. Happy?"

  Darius let out a loud, shrill caw as his reply. He noticed his charge's playmate look up and make eye contact with him. To the mortal boy, he was the biggest bird he had ever seen. Darius jumped from to limb, keeping his wings close to his body. The air caressed his feathers. He dropped, gaining speed. Right at the last second, before hitting Jonathan's head, he opened his wings and pumped them. An air current caught him, which lifted him high in the sky. His strong wings allowed him to break through the increasing breeze. He felt his body losing substance, flattening, becoming as thin as a shadow. Then he slipped into the other world.

  From years of experience, he appeared kneeling before the queen with his head bowed. “I have come as called, Highness.” The Raven Warrior looked up at his queen. A knife of sorrow slashed his heart when he stared at the haggard banshee before him. Not that he ever found her beautiful, but the death of her daughter a year ago had taken a toll on her. She had not once fed on blood to regain her human appearance. She seemed to be withering away.

  "Darius,” Betha rasped, staring past him. It seemed she didn't really care that he had appeared before her. Her skin was the gray color of rotting mushrooms. Her eyes were nothing more than hollow sockets with a little bit of white showing. Yellowed bone peeked out from underneath the flaking skin. The queen's bone-hard nails were caressing the onyx throne. Her nails matched the color of the throne. Emerald marble shot through the gold-tiled floor. Mirrors lined the walls reflecting him and the other inhabitants of the room. The music from the ghostly orchestra played on bone flutes. “You are being reassigned to another charge."

  His heart sank at the words he heard uttered from her lips. What had he done to be punished so? He had been disciplined almost a year ago for beating Tremain's heartmate nearly to death. Linnea. The witch. His fingers curled into a fist at the thought of her. She had it coming to her, seducing Tremain the way she did. Darius sighed. He had spent two months in raven form as penance. Tremain had found the cure to their curse. If they found their heartmates, their soul mates, they could be free. Their humanity could never be wholly regained because their mortality had been wiped away ages ago, but they were no longer ruled by the moon. Tremain was the last one any of his brethren thought would be free of their accursed existence. He had been on Betha's last nerve. He had even been punished to spend forever in feathers flying the skies, but Morrigain had taken pity on him and returned Tremain to human form. Secretly, many of the other men wished for release, yet their liberation would never come. There was a one in a million shot of finding their mates.

  "Mistress, please. What have I done to anger you? Does Caleb know of this?” Darius asked.

  Betha raised her skeletal hand and silenced him. “Enough, Warrior. You're not being reprimanded. The assignment is only temporary. I need you to investigate the death of a werewolf pup. The child was no more than a toddler. Three or four from the reports my Shadows are giving me."

  "Why are we interceding in their affairs? The wolves stay among themselves like the vampires."

  She stood up and shrieked. The screech rattled his eardrums. He felt something pop, and wetness dribbled down from his nose. He licked his lips tasting the copper of blood. Normally, her scream would have not affected him, but this one was a killing blow if he had been mortal.

  "If I tell you we will intervene, then we will. You are not bound only to care for mortals with gifts, but also for those other preternatural creatures I deem worthy of our service. This was a helpless child, Darius, who didn't know any better. The pack leader has called for justice. He has gone to their witch, and she knows the old ways. It is to her you will go to discover what is happening in the pack. Whatever you do, do not disgrace yourself or your fellow Warriors. One deviation from your code, and I will have your head. Is that understood?"

  Darius stared at the queen, trying to keep his face emotionless, but fury bubbled underneath his skin, hot enough to blister it. Something about this assignment did not sit well with him. Whatever he found would not be good. He could feel it. He hated wolves as much as he hated witches. If the pack had a witch at their disposal, they were a powerful force to reckon with. He rose from the floor and bowed his head.

  "And, Darius, for this assignment only, your curse has been rescinded until you find the killer. You will take raven form by dawn light, and the nights will be yours to investigate. As always, the full moon days are yours."

  This astonished him. He had never known the queen to rescind the curse for anyone or anything. “Highness, why the sudden change in protocol? You've never—"

  "Don't question me, Warrior! I have my reasons. Enough to say I feel you will need the extra time. If I smell one thing out of place, I will take away my gift."

  He didn't say anything and walked out of the throne room wondering what had gotten into the queen. He was not happy about being reassigned, but if he did not perform his duty and succeed, he would be punished. Darius was not about to let that happen. No matter what, he was going to talk to Caleb, leader of the Raven Warriors, before he set off on his new assignment.

  Flying through the sultry, balmy sky Darius stared at the moon. Caleb, their leader, was perched outside his charge's house keeping an eye on her through the open window. The other raven settled next to the Warrior marveling at how his feathers glinted silver in the moonlight. Caleb was the first Raven Warrior, originally from Atlantis, and cursed by his
father who sat on their Raven Council. Because he was so ancient, his feathers were silver. Even in human form, silver streaked his hair and laced his eyes. Darius couldn't fathom being so old and being damned without an end in sight. For what he knew, Caleb had never found his heartmate. He had never spoken of what he had done to be punished, but Darius knew the reason must have been something awful. He considered his leader a good friend and owed him much. In his early days, Caleb helped him temper his anger and understand his new calling.

  "What brings you here, Darius? I thought you were watching Jonathan? Don't tell me you've become like Tremain and abandoned your post?" Darius heard the amusement in his leader's thoughts. Tremain had originally been blamed for deserting his charge, who was abducted, but his charge, Maili, Betha's daughter, had actually been the one behind her own kidnapping because she wanted her mother's throne and the power of her best friend, Linnea, the witch.

  Darius closed his eyes, following the link between him and Jonathan. He sensed the boy was playing a video game. Once the boy felt him, he looked up and stared out the window. Temporary assignment or not, he didn't like the idea with getting involved with the wolves. "No, he's fine. He's a normal teenager of these times playing some video game called Halo 3. He was very excited when his mother bought it for him and went on and on about it to me for hours. I admit I don't really understand his fascination."

  "That is children these days. Instead of the defense and weapons training we had as boys, they now play war for make believe. Why are you here, my friend?"

  Darius settled his dark gaze on the couple inside. They were in the throes of lovemaking. The passion between them rocked him to the core. The couple was completely infatuated with each other and oblivious to the world around them. The Warrior remembered what being in that blissful state was like. How he longed to be there again. One romp like the couple was having could easily get rid of a lot of the tension built up in his muscles over the past four centuries. He shook himself, stretched his wings, and then stared back at Caleb. "How do you put up with that?"

  "You get used to ignoring it over time. After a while you forget what it was ever like. Besides, they are in love. That is the most important thing. The promise of love and their safety is what keeps me going."

  "Caleb, it doesn't matter how long it's been. You never forget what sex feels like."

  "Darius"—Caleb ran his beak through his feathers cleaning them—"what do you want?"

  "Betha has reassigned me."

  "I know. I was the one who suggested it."

  "But why? Did I do something wrong?" Darius hopped down to a branch closer to Caleb.

  "No, Darius. I felt you were the right Warrior for the job. Just don't screw up. Or you know what will happen."

  Darius cawed in frustration. He knew better than to say no to his leader. "Fine. I'll go. Just make sure nothing happens to Jonathan."

  "I'll protect him myself."

  "Thank you."

  With nothing left to say, Darius turned his gaze back to the couple in the window. He used to love having sex. As long as he had his needs met, the woman didn't matter. Then again, that was what had gotten him cursed. Women. Nothing but stupid bitches. That's all they're good for. Broodmares. Anger coursed through him while he watched the act of love. He had no time for women. They were the real cause of his aggravation.

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  Chapter Three

  Jaime's voice struck Alena's heartstrings. Her cousin sobbed and she could barely make out the words. Instantly she was brought back nine months ago when she had been at the restaurant working. Alena had been a waitress, hostess, and part-time dishwasher because both had quit, running off to get married in Vegas. She had been carrying a tray full of dirty dishes and once she saw her cousin standing at the podium she dropped the tray in the middle of a crowded dining room.

  The sound of breaking dishes had stopped the chatter in the fifty-seat dining room. The patrons had turned to stare at her. Waitresses rushed over helping her clean up the mess. Alena had half smiled to her cousin and had motioned for her to sit on the waiting bench, which was the only free seat in the house. Jamie nodded. Anxiety, shock, surprise all had peppered her thoughts. Alena tried to focus on cleaning up the pasta, salad, bread sticks, and whatever leftovers that had been on the plates before they got ground into the grey carpet.

  What does she want? How did she find me? What is wrong with the pack? Is she here to bring me back? Am I going to be put to death finally? Alena wiped her hands on her apron. The last of the waitresses finished with the dishes, and the dining room patrons had gotten back to the scratching of metal tines on porcelain plates, the clinking of ice in glasses, and the inane chatter people talked about over lunch. Her hands shook while she slowly went over to her cousin. Fourteen years had passed since Alena had seen her, but she looked the same. Her hair was a little lighter, and the freckles were gone along the bridge of her nose, but she looked great. When Alena got closer, Jamie stood up and took her in her arms, giving her a hug which could have crushed her bones. Alena noticed the aroma of pine clinging to her hair and the wet scent of leaves along her skin. Underneath that was the musky odor of the wolf. Alena hadn't smelled that scent in ages. For a moment, a phantom echo of pain burned in her gut from the remembrance of the beginning of her own change. There were nights during the full moon when she stared at the orb longingly, desiring to feel its silvery light on her skin while she ran through the woods. However, that was impossible.

  "Alena, my God. You look amazing,” Jamie commented, but something underneath her smile was troubled.

  Alena's hard-won control of her emotions was slipping in the presence of her family, and she felt her cousin's unease below the fake exterior. Something was eating away at the woman. “It's good to see you too, Jamie. It's been a long time. I didn't know—"

  "If I'd be able to find you after you ran off? Alena, I've been searching for you ever since you did. The pack—"

  "Jamie, can we talk about this later. Please?” Alena reached into her apron, drew out her order book, scribbled her address on the pad, and handed the pad to her cousin. “Come by my place later. We'll talk. Now really isn't a good time. I'll be off at six."

  Her cousin was about to say something, but decided not to, nodding curtly before getting up and walking out the door. Alena swallowed, took a deep breath, and put on the fake smile her cousin had worn. Three more hours and she would have to face the music. Three more hours and she would confront a past she hadn't thought about in almost fourteen years. She only wondered if she could pass the time when the hours were so short compared to the years.

  The three hours had gone by slower than mud drying. She kept eying her watch swearing the second hand was frozen. That the night manager was ten minutes late didn't help. Alena had barked at Susan and walked out the door. Susan knew what to do with the staff. Closing was in five hours. She could handle the late rush. Alena knew that. On her way home, every kind of thought played over her brain. Would Jamie come? What did the pack want with her? What was her cousin hiding? Everything imaginable worked through her mind, and when she got to her apartment, her cousin was sitting in her car. Alena pulled up beside the truck. Hers looked like a matchbox toy compared to her cousin's. Jamie drove some kind of large red truck that appeared to be almost new. The paint was shiny like a newly picked apple. Chrome accented the door handles and the wheels. Nothing was said between the two women. Alena led the way, but she felt as if Jamie was used to being in front, being alpha. She had wondered if her cousin was the pack leader's wife. What does it really matter about the pack? They are the life I left behind. I can't be one of them and if I ever did go back I would be killed.

  Inside her cozy apartment, Cinnamon lazed on the couch, but when he sensed Jamie, he had immediately gone on the defensive. His back arched, and his hair stood on end. His claws extended, making holes in her new coverlet, and he was spitting fur balls at Jamie. Alena looked between the two creatures,
and Jamie smiled weakly and kept her distance. Both women jumped when the door slammed behind them.

  Jamie giggled nervously and pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. Alena went to put on some tea. The silence in the place stretched out like a veil waiting to be stepped on. Alena finally sat down and placed a cup of tea before her cousin. “How did you find me?"

  "Oddly enough, I saw your picture in a magazine. Something about winning the best chef in the city two years running."

  Blood scorched Alena's cheeks. She was modest about her accomplishments and one of her employees, Susan actually, had sent in the story. Somehow a national magazine had picked up the article, and her face was plastered everywhere. The publicity had been great for business. She had been booked for months solid after the piece. Business was just beginning to die down. “I'm surprised you saw it."

  "It seems you've made quite a life for yourself. While I think that is wonderful, there are things that need to be dealt with."

  Alena hung her head and stared into the dark red cranberry tea. The concoction was her favorite, and one she made herself with dried cranberries and a little bit of peppermint and catnip. The steam coming from the tea made her sniffle. In the dark liquid, she stared at reflection that gazed back at her. Alena saw herself as a teenager when she and Jamie had been such close friends. They had been like sisters. Even Vincent she had tolerated, until he started pulling away from her after she had lost control of her emotions and made others have nosebleeds or headaches.

  "And what is it that needs to be dealt with? Have you come to finally take me back to the pack and have justice for killing your father?” Alena met her cousin's eyes with her own hard stare. Jamie's mask was back in place, and whatever was behind the facade, Alena couldn't read. She had let her shields down and tried to discern what emotions were swirling around inside her cousin just as she swirled around the dregs of her tea.