Triggered (Blackbird Book 1)

by Aly Westman

  "Number 5239," Corey told Damion.

  I sat up in my seat, my head ringing, I felt dizzy, and my stomach queasy. And yeah, my ears still felt numb. Damion pulled into a driveway of a two story family looking house, the kind that came with the white picket fence and everything. As soon as the key was out I was pushing Quinn, trying to get out.

  He moved fast, which was good because I would have blown chunks all over his lap had he been a fraction slower. Instead I made it to the lawn. Corey was there, holding my hair back and one hand on my back.

  “How you feeling?” Corey asked.

  "Peachie," I mumbled as I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. He helped guide me towards the house, past the neatly manicured lawn I had just spewed all over.

  "You alright Ava?" Damion asked as we stepped into the house.

  "Fine, dizzy..." The house smelled brand new, as in fresh out of the package new. That plastic scent lingering in the air. The entrance opened right up to a living room on the left and a set of stairs to the right. Every piece of furniture looked brand new as well. I waddled over to the over stuffed green couch and collapsed.

  "This house isn't used too often, not many hunters like neighbors, but it's heavily warded so we should be good here for the day," Corey said, setting his laptop down on the coffee table and the sitting next to me.

  "Here." Quinn held two tablets out to me and a glass of water. I didn't even ask what it was, just swallowed them and closed my eyes. "Anyone else?" he asked.

  Everyone held their hand out. Seth took his without water. "I'm going to check in with Ty, give an update. We were supposed to be at the Ranch today but perhaps tomorrow will be better." He left the room.

  I closed my eyes and attempted to get comfortable on the couch. There was a nudge on my shoulder. "Watch out," Damion said. I sat up and he slid in behind me, pulling my shoulders down so my head was on his lap. Corey scooped my feet up and draped them over his legs. I looked over at Quinn who laid out on the other couch.

  "I have to hand it to you, you guys sure got out of there quickly," I said.

  "You live and learn," Corey stated, he began massaging my calves, I may have moaned as he smoothed out the aches in my muscles. I can't be sure since I was asleep within seconds.

  "Do you like birds?" the man asked as he watched me from the back porch. He was a friend of Dad’s.

  I was in the yard, filling one of the many bird feeders I had. "Sure," I said to him.

  He had black hair, and a short beard that was scruffy. He smoked a cigar and I sort of liked the smell of it. He blew out another puff of sweet smoke and asked, "Which bird is your favorite."

  "The black bird," I answered easily.

  He smiled and took another drag, stepping off the porch and coming out to me. "Like a starling? Beautiful birds." As he spoke the smoke seeped from his lips. I had to stop myself from leaning forward and sniffing it. I liked my father's new friend, but being 16 years old he was a bit old for my taste.

  "No, ravens actually."

  "Is that why you fill these feeders? There are no ravens around here."

  "There are... I took care of one when I was younger. He was hurt and we fixed his wing," I told him.

  "You know a raven is said to be a symbol of bad luck," he said matter of factly, still watching me fill the feeders.

  "Funny, other people think the raven is a symbol of change, transformation," I countered.

  "It is said the raven taught Cain how to bury his brother's body after he murdered him."

  Oh, so he was going there was he? Little did he know my father had me well versed on myths, he loved reading stories to me. And when my raven left me I did some searching of my own. "Some people also say after St. Vincent was murdered ravens protected his body until he could find his final resting place. And that they still protect his grave to this day."

  His eyes squinted slightly as he stared at me. A smile echoing on his lips. "Ravens are often associated with Death."

  "And yet some myths depict that a raven was responsible for bringing light to the dark."

  "What do you think?" He stood in front of me. "There are arguments for both. Light and dark, good and bad."

  I looked away from the intensity of his stare. My cheeks tinting. Come on Ava, this guy was decades older than you! "Well, logic would say that the fact the bird is a raven has nothing to do with whether is represents the good or the ugly. Fact about it is, there are tons of myths for both sides, so it would be dependent on the raven as an individual. And I know the one I saved was good. Raven's are amazing birds, he will remember me... someday he will come back."

  "Wren!" My father called from the door. "We're ready."

  Wren nodded to him and then looked back to me. "Evangeline, right?"

  I nodded. "Just call me Ava. And I know you are Wren. I remember you from when I was younger."

  He smiled. "Ava." He pondered the name for a moment. "Like the latin word Avis... meaning bird."

  I had never thought of it that way.

  "It was nice to meet you Ava." Wren held out his hand. I slipped my hand into it, surprised by how gently he held mine. Wren bent down, placing a kiss on the back of my hand. "I hope your raven comes back to you," he said before dropping my hand and turning away back towards the house.

  I don't know why I dreamed of that, why that memory came to me. When I opened my eyes I felt better. I was still in Damion's lap and I could feel him running his fingers through my hair. I rolled onto my back, careful not to disturb a sleeping Corey at my feet. "Did you do that? Make me dream of that memory?"

  Damion smiled, leaning down he softly pressed his lips to mine. "I hope you don't mind. I feel like you haven't been sleeping very well, and that memory seemed to make you happy."

  I sighed. "It does, it makes me sad too."

  "Why?" he asked.

  "Because I never found my raven again," I said. Damion leaned down again and this time I slipped my hand around the back of his neck, holding him to me and his lips met mine. I was breathless when we pulled away.

  "I have to go," he said. "I should get started on fixing the truck so we can get out of here tomorrow."

  I winced. "I'm sorry," I said.

  "Don't worry about it, that truck has taken just as many hits as we have." He moved forward and I sat up to let him out. Corey mumbled something and then rolled onto his side, putting his feet up on the couch. Quinn was out cold, mouth hanging opening, snoring softly.

  "Where's Seth?" I asked. Time to start groveling at his feet.

  "Probably out working on the truck."

  I nodded and followed Damion outside. Seth was, as Damion had suspected, working on the truck. He was up on a ladder next to the truck, a circular machine in his hand, the motor on the ground vibrating with a loud purr. He leaned over the roof, sparks flying everywhere as he ground it smooth.

  “Hey!” Damion called over the loud rumble. Seth turned off the grinder and looked down at us. “What’s the damage?”

  Seth stepped down the ladder, the way his massive shit kickers planted on the ladder steps I thought for sure it wouldn’t hold him. But it did. “I changed the tires and the plates. Just smoothing out the bullet holes and claw marks so I can patch it up.”

  “Sounds good, need a hand?” Dame asked.

  “Yeah, I may need to run to the store for a patch but see if you can find anything in the garage.” Seth’s eyes turned to me. “You shouldn’t be out here.”

  Shit, I came to apologise and already I made him mad. “Yeah, I just wanted to say sorry about earlier.”

  Seth frowned and Damion shook his head. “Sorry?”

  I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I reacted, I didn’t even think. We are lucky nothing ricocheted and it was a clean shot. I mean, our ears alone could have been permanently damaged.”

  Seth reached out and grabbed my arm, I winced and he quickly dropped his grip. He didn’t grab me hard or anything… I just wasn’t expecting it. “Come with me,” he demanded, walking passed
me and towards the house.

  I looked over at Damion who just smiled at me and turned to the house.

  Seth went directly to the living room, Corey and Quinn were sitting up talking to each other in hushed tones when we came in. They stopped when Seth stood in the room. “Ava apologised for her shot.”

  Corey scoffed, Quinn just smiled at me. “It was a good shot Aves.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t even think, I just reacted!” I tried to tell them.

  Seth turned to me. “You’re damn right, you reacted. You moved. You saw the threat and you acted on it…” Seth reached out and smacked my shoulder lightly. “Ava, you didn’t freeze.”

  His eyes shone with pride and when I looked at the others they were sitting forward smiling at me.

  I…I didn’t freeze. I reacted! There wasn’t even a second of a hesitation. A soft smile threatened to pull at my lips but I took a deep breath. Seth reached into his back pocket and held his closed hand out to me.

  “Pulled this out of the roof of the truck and thought you’d like to have it,” he said. I put my hand under his and he dropped a bloody, gruesome, demon dog claw, into my hand. Most of the blood was dried by now but a little still leaked from the flesh that was attached.

  “This is so freakin awesome!” I breathed. This claw represented the day I was able to fight while under attack and I didn’t have a single flash back. This claw represented the beginning.

  “Most girls want jewelry, our girl gets excited when we give her a bloody piece of a dead hellhound.” Damion laughed.

  Quinn shook his head, smiling. Corey chuckled. “That’s it, we are keeping her,” he declared.

  Chapter 15

  Despite being a home that wasn’t used too often, it was well stocked with necessities. I wandered upstairs and found a closet filled with clothes, multiple sizes. I picked out a pair of jeans and a soft white long sleeved shirt. A clipboard with a piece of paper hung in the closet and I noticed others had written down what they took. I wrote down the sizes and articles that I took from it. I wandered around, there were five bedrooms, one master and four smaller rooms. I was amazed at the level of detail put into creating this safe house. The master suite was obviously done up to make it look like a mother and father used it. Two of the small bedrooms look like children’s rooms, one a boy’s and the other a girl’s. The first was fully decorated with a princess bed, a doll house and other various girly toys. The closets were equipped much like the one I found in the master bedroom. Clothing… only these were child’s clothing, little girls, from infant sizes all the way up to preteen size. I frowned and moved on. The boy’s room was set up the same only with cars and solar planets, and boys’ clothes hung in the closet with a clipboard. I was shocked to see that a few articles in a toddler size had been taken. The third and fourth bedrooms looked like teenager’s bedrooms. If anyone had walked in there they would think a teenage boy and a teenage girl lived there.

  With a sigh I made my way to the bathroom and jumped into the shower. I don’t know what was going through my mind, as I lathered up my hair with a vanilla scented shampoo. I found it odd, that all these things had been here, that they had been used. In a warded house.

  I jumped out of the shower once I was clean and toweled off, getting dressed in the new clothes. Only now, the clothes I held had a different meaning to them. Had I not signed these out then who would have? A mother with a baby? A young woman all alone? And who were they running from?

  There was a soft knock on the door and I jumped, so involved in my own thoughts I almost forgot about the others. “Hey, mind if I come in?” Quinn’s voice called.

  “Nope,” I said, picking up the brush on the counter and working through my hair.

  He came in and scanned me quickly before opening a drawer at the sink. It was like he had to do a once over to make sure I was alright. I remembered when I woke up, after telling them I wanted to live, and even though he was sleeping he was still keeping track of my pulse.

  Quinn pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste. “Corey attempted to make food, I have this God awful bitter taste stuck in my mouth.”

  I laughed. “What did he make?”

  “Pancakes,” he said around the toothbrush in his mouth.

  I stopped brushing my hair, my arms getting tired. “How the hell do you make pancakes bitter?”

  Quinn spat the toothpaste out and rinse his mouth. “Do you want me to help?” he asked, indicating my hair. I smiled, I liked it when Quinn played with my hair, it was relaxing.

  “Sure.”

  Quinn opened one of the cupboards to the side of the sink and pulled out a white, well used, hair dryer. It was clear this hair dryer been put to the test and used many times, it seemed a bit worn out and for some reason that made me love it even more. I sat on the toilet and turned so he could come around and reach my hair; I could see him in the mirror. I found it odd how he knew where everything was, he acted like this was his home.

  The noise was loud when the dryer roared to life however it wasn’t frightening, it was somewhat calming. I watched him as he worked away at my hair intently, he was in his own world. His grey eyes filled with nostalgia and emotions. The warmth spread across my skull and down my neck, but another type of heat also moved across my skin with every brush of his fingertips that Quinn gave as he parted my hair. My skin tingled and a small spark jumped to my heart as his hand touched the side of my neck. Some part of me wanted to lean into him, to feel him closer.

  Quinn turned off the dryer and looked up into the mirror at me, he began playing with my hair between his fingers as he said, “It’s really long… Do you want me to cut it?” That threw me off a bit, though my hair had gotten really long.

  “I don’t know,” I teased. “You’re not going to shave it or anything are you?”

  He laughed. “God no, not this beautiful hair. I just see how you get tired brushing it and I thought it might help.”

  He was happy, doing this and being here with me. I could tell by his eyes that he was genuinely happy. So I nodded. “Sure, but not too much, I sort of like my hair long enough to go in a ponytail.”

  “Alright, but I might insist on bangs.” He went over to the cupboard and began pulling things out, searching and rearranging. He found a couple pairs of scissors and a small comb. He kicked the little garbage can that was beside the sink closer and didn’t waste any time, didn’t hesitate, didn’t wait for me to second guess, he just went to work.

  “You look very professional,” I said, watching the way he moved and how he held the scissors, as if he had done this a hundred times before.

  He gave me a soft smile but didn’t look up. “I used to work at a hair salon, believe it or not, it was how I paid my way through paramed school.”

  “What? No stripping through paramed school for you?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “No, no stripping.”

  “A shame, you could have made a lot of money.” That got him laughing, and that look he had when he first started, the far away nostalgia one, it seemed to disappear. “So, I was looking around… Do many kids come to the warded homes.”

  “Yeah.” Quinn talked as he worked. “Most of the families get first priority when it comes to the safe houses. Especially if they have young children. There hasn’t been many children in the ranks lately, and oftentimes they just go to the Ranch.”

  “Your family… Did they stay at the Ranch?” I asked quietly. I didn’t want to be nosey but I liked Quinn, I wanted to know more about him.

  “No, I came to the hunting world a lot like Seth did, actually.” He frowned. “My family was killed by a clan of vampires. Ty was hunting them at the time but he didn’t get to my house fast enough. The leader was about to kill me.” He stopped cutting for a moment, dropping some of my hair from his hand into the garbage. “See they have this rule, or law really, that they can’t turn children. Anyways, they turned my dad, and he was taken away, but they had to kill me.” He was talking very emotionless
, very pointed, as if he were just rhyming off facts or step by step events. “Ty got there in time, gave the vampire a nice looking scar. Vampires usually heal but Ty cut him with a knife that was blessed with salt and laced with iron. He nearly took the bloodsucker’s eye out.” As he said this he took the scissors and slowly drew a line with them running down the left side of his face.

  “How old were you?”

  He shrugged and said, “Six.” As if it were no big deal. As if it meant nothing for a six year old to lose his entire family to a vampire massacre.

  I tried to look into his eyes, into his face at least, to try and get some sort of gauge as to what his emotions were however he was looking down, busying himself in my hair once again. “Did you find the one with the cut? Did Ty kill him?”

  Quinn took a deep breath and I knew I hit a sour spot. “No. I found my father, I put a stake through his heart when I was seventeen… But the one with the scar, Kilo, he got away.” Quinn set the scissors down on the counter and picked up the hair dryer once more. He was a bit more firm when drying my hair but I could tell by his expression that he was lost in his own thoughts. When my hair was complete he set down the hair dryer. “How’s that feel?”

  I stood up to look into the mirror as I ran my fingers through the light strands of my hair, they felt so soft and silky. Quinn put the dryer and scissors away and opened another drawer pulling out a black hair tie. “I like it.” I smiled, still playing with my hair..

  He moved behind me, at first his eyes stared back at me through the mirror, and then he reached out and gathered my hair into his hands. His eyes skimmed the sensitive skin of my neck, and I don’t think I had ever felt so exposed, yet safe in my life. The heat from his eyes radiated through me right to my heart which had started to sputter uncontrollably. He put my hair into a ponytail and then stepped closer, his chest brushing my arm. He smelled of comforting cinnamon and his body pulsed with warmth, it took everything in my power not to lean right into him.

  Quinn gave my ponytail a little tug to the side and with it my heart gave a tug. I wanted him. I wanted him to take me, to kiss me hard and rough. To hold me tightly. I could almost picture him roughly pushing me up against the bathroom wall, his lips hard on mine. I wouldn’t be scared, I wouldn’t be afraid, because I was safe with him. Like Seth holding me through the storm I was coming to find I craved that tight constricting feeling. And as I imagined Quinn taking me, right here in this bathroom, I could feel wetness pool in my panties. That’s how alluring and strong of a gaze Quinn placed upon me. His breath lightly grazing my exposed neck and I was ready to come undone.