Special Passage (The Coursodon Dimension Book 4)

by M. L. Ryan

  Sensible, for sure, but I wondered if my romantic notions were less about their proficiency and more about my own. I planned to ponder this dilemma further, when I happened to notice movement outside through the large picture window over the sink. The menagerie of wild animals on the back patio was as large and varied as usual; I was used to the cross-section of desert critters that showed up every day, attracted to me in some mystical way because I could become feathery. Generally, they just kind of hung out, doing their own thing and not interacting with one another. What caught my attention was how they all seemed to focus on something I couldn’t see off to their left. I moved across the room, stretching over the sink as far as possible to catch a glimpse of what they found so fascinating. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something, but someone.

  Even at a distance, I knew immediately who the sturdy blonde in the tan uniform was. “Deputy What’s-Her-Name is snooping around the construction.”

  “Who’s that?” Alex inquired as he leaned over me and peered toward the guesthouse.

  “You remember—the suspicious chick from the sheriff’s office who questioned me after the fire.”

  “Oh yes, the one who didn’t seem satisfied with your explanation of the blaze.”

  Sebastian joined us at the window. “Why is she here, I wonder?”

  “Hell if I know,” I replied, “But I’m sure it can’t be good.”

  We watched her circle around the site, oblivious to the bobcats, a mountain lion, some javelina, jackrabbits, various birds, and a coyote mama with three pups just a few feet away on the other side of the short wall that surrounded my soon-to-be-new old home. Granted, none of them moved, but if this was any indication of her investigational acumen, we didn’t have anything to worry about.

  The wind must have changed direction, because she lifted her head and sniffed the air. I knew when the pungent fragrance of big cat hit her, because her expression changed from puzzled to wide-eyed recognition. Slowly, she rotated her head toward the source of the smell. As if on cue, the lion peeled back its lips, revealing a lovely set of impressive fangs.

  The cougar was only scenting the human, but Deputy Clueless mistook the behavior as aggressive and went for her service revolver.

  I ran out the back door yelling, “Don’t shoot!” As I got closer, I realized I probably should have thought this through. Wild predators and a startled person with a gun—what could possibly go wrong? Luckily, the animals scattered away from Annie Oakley and she was controlled enough to not empty her clip into either them or me. Alex, Sebastian, and Ulut skidded to a halt when they noticed she was now pointing the Glock at us.

  All color had drained from her face, but she slowly holstered her weapon. “Are you insane? That mountain lion could have rabies!”

  I walked toward her, slowly and with my palms facing out just to be on the safe side. “He’s not rabid; he’s here all the time and never bothers anyone.”

  She reached up and smoothed the hair in her tightly pulled ponytail, although as far as I could tell, not one was out of place. “You know, it’s illegal to feed wildlife in Pima County,” she proclaimed.

  No “Shit, that was close,” or “Sorry I almost shot you.” Nice to see her interpersonal skills hadn’t improved since our last encounter.

  “I don’t feed them,” I answered curtly. I was close enough now to see her name tag. “Why are you here, Deputy Cunningham?”

  She looked past me as if I hadn’t spoken and turned her attention to Alex and Sebastian. “Are either of you the owner this property?” she inquired, using the practiced tone law enforcement affects when dealing with the public: professional, dispassionate, and infuriating.

  Sebastian stepped forward and smiled. “That would be me, Deputy. Sebastian Kess. Is there a problem?”

  I could see why women were so attracted to him. That face was so sincere and at the same time, so mesmerizing. If I wasn’t so well acquainted with him already, I might get sucked in myself.

  Cunningham didn’t respond immediately, just stared into Sebastian’s smoky grey eyes. After a moment, she looked away. “The sheriff’s department still has a few unanswered questions concerning the fire,” she snapped, shaking her head slightly as if clearing the cobwebs.

  For maybe a millisecond, an almost imperceptible glower crossed over Sebastian’s face. Her continued surliness must have surprised him. So much for his power over women. If his inability to sway the deputy continued to bother him, he didn’t let it show.

  “Both the fire department and the insurance company confirmed the cause of the blaze,” he said smoothly. “I cannot imagine what more we might add.”

  “Or why you’re the one asking the questions,” I argued.

  This time, she acknowledged my existence, although being glared at as if covered with oozing pustules was actually more irritating than when she ignored me altogether. Ulut must have sensed my growing annoyance because he trotted over and sat next to me. When he leaned against my leg, I did feel a little less motivated to punch her in the throat. I probably would have gotten in trouble for that.

  From a front pocket on her uniform, she pulled out a small pad and pen and began to scribble some notes. “That dog is licensed, right?” she said, not looking up from her writing.

  Does she have a death wish? I wondered. Suddenly, assaulting an officer didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  “Deputy,” Alex responded, planting himself between the soon-to-be-toasty cop and me. “Is there a reason you are being so adversarial?”

  “Use smaller words so she understands what you are saying,” I sniped under my breath. Alex reached back and placed a cautionary hand on my arm.

  “Something fishy is going on around here,” she protested. “I don’t care what the fire department said. I worked arson for five years as an MP and no lightning fire consumes an entire building that quickly.”

  Despite Alex’s attempt to calm me, a tingling sensation arose in my fingers. Sebastian stepped forward and stood beside Alex, effectively blocking me and my destructive tendencies from doing something we might regret later.

  Sebastian continued his earnest explanation. “The original guest quarters were unpermitted and poorly constructed. I had no idea how dangerous it was when I purchased the property.”

  “How convenient for you that it burned down so insurance can pay for the reconstruction,” she said with a smirk.

  I wanted to wipe the smug expression off her face. With a cactus.

  Sebastian calmly replied, “The case is closed, and unless you have a search warrant, this is private property. Your conduct borders on harassment, for what reason I cannot fathom, but if you persist, I will contact my attorneys. Good day, Deputy.”

  Never taking her eyes off Sebastian, Cunningham returned the notebook to her pocket and clicked the pen closed. “I’m going to figure out how you did this,” she declared, then turned and stomped off.

  Alex watched as she got in her cruiser and peeled out of the driveway. “Well, that went well. Nothing like a nice interaction with law enforcement to brighten up the day.”

  “She is going to be a huge pain in the ass,” I complained. “Why didn’t one of you just erase her memory and we’d be done?” Manipulating human’s minds was used primarily to keep the existence of the Courso a secret, but this seemed as good a time as any to break out the magical obfuscation.

  “I wish it were that simple,” Sebastian replied. “It is one thing to purge someone’s recollections of an event that just took place. It is quite another when they have had time to discuss it with others or, worse, document it in some way. She surely has, at the very least, copious notes. We would have to go to her home and place of work and remove anything she might have that would remind her. Wipe her hard drive. It would prove to be a herculean task. We will have to find a way to deal with her using more traditional means.” He looked wistfully into the distance and lamented, “Things were so much easier before the Internet.”

  Things would
be easier if the deputy wasn’t such a meddlesome bitch.

  5

  The encounter with Pima County’s “finest” left me feeling even more anxious than I was before Deputy Snoopingham stopped by. I knew the best way to blow off some steam was with some exercise. Alex was busy, so sex was out, and I didn’t feel like running. Since I hadn’t changed form in a few days, I settled on winging my way to tranquility.

  With all the construction workers constantly coming and going, I always transformed inside the house. The extra precaution was necessary to prevent anyone from accidentally seeing something impossible to explain, but it wasn’t my preferred locale. In truth, transforming from human to hawk inside wasn’t the big issue as much as being fingerless prevented me from getting outside without help. At first, I’d just leave the slider in my bedroom open before I shifted, but sometimes Vinnie would take the opportunity to sneak out. Not a good idea, considering the desert is full of kitty-eating critters and Vinnie, being overweight and pampered, was like a slow-moving food truck to the local predators. Eventually, we installed a high-tech dog door. The flap opened by pushing a side button, something I could accomplish using my beak, but was too complicated for Vinnie to master.

  Because form-bending was an energy-intensive process, I scarfed down a carne asada burrito and a bottle of water before moving to our suite. Once there, I removed my clothes and willed myself to change. The process used to be wrenching, requiring all my concentration to accomplish. Now, it was effortless. I simply envisioned my skin giving way to feathers, my arms becoming wings.

  The first signs of transformation sent a vaguely electrical tingling through my body. As I felt the painless morphing of my bones, Alex walked into the room, and in that split second between Hailey and hawk, he flinched. It was a recent thing from him, a reflexive response ever since I turned into a giant bird-dragon creature instead of my usual form. No one knew why I became Birdzilla that one time, or even if it might happen again. I guess I couldn’t blame him; when I shifted, it was in the back of my mind as well. His response, as usual, was fleeting. Once it became obvious I had neither demolished nor incinerated the lavatory with a gigantic, fire-spewing body, Alex returned to his normal, relaxed hunkiness. While I understood, no one wanted to make the man they love cringe, no matter what the reason.

  I went to the pet door and pecked at the release button. When the flap extended out like a little drawbridge, I hopped outside. Alex followed using the slider and watched as I stretched my wings, preparing for flight. He opened his palm to reveal a small, metallic band.

  “We want to be able to track you,” he said, bending down to snap the tiny transmitter around my leg.

  I hated wearing jewelry when I was human, even less when I was a hawk. Having my location monitored was standard procedure when I was on a mission, but this was just a simple fly around.

  I pushed out my thoughts to him telepathically. “Of the many Harris’s hawks in the area, who’s going to know it’s me?” While feathered, no one could detect any magic. Therefore, I appeared to be a normal, run-of-the-mill Parabuteo unicinctus. It was one of the things that made me so valuable as a Xyzok scout; I could check out unsuspecting Courso without giving myself away. The same quality would afford anonymity if anyone was looking for me, if, in fact, anyone actually was.

  “I’m not taking any chances.”

  “Look, I get that you’re cautious because of the whole Kyzal visit, but this is bordering on ridiculous.”

  Alex stood and peered down at me. “I also want Ulut to go with you.”

  Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. He’d just jumped from ridiculous to what-the-hell overprotective. “That’s going to be a bit difficult, don’t you think?” I replied. “How is he supposed to keep up on the ground?”

  “He just needs to be close enough that you can communicate with him. I will feel better if you’re not alone.”

  “I don’t see how that’s going to be helpful. If something bad goes down, he won’t be able to tell you anything.” When in our animal forms, Ulut and I communicated telepathically. While I could also throw my thoughts out to others, Ulut could “speak” only to me. I pictured him racing back home, barking frantically, and Sebastian and Alex asking, “What happened, boy, did Hailey fall in a well?”

  Alex crossed his arms. “Humor me.”

  “Fine,” I huffed out. “Don’t think you’re fooling me, Blondie. This is all a ploy to keep me close-by. You know I won’t fly as far if Ulut has to try and keep up.”

  I flicked the tip of one wing at Alex a couple of times, hoping the action had some similarity to wagging a finger at him to emphasize my point. I must not have conveyed the intended message, because Alex threw his head back and laughed.

  “That wasn’t meant to be funny.”

  When he finally managed to speak, he said, “Are you kidding? A bird just flipped me the bird. That is quite entertaining.” He brushed a small tear from his eye.

  A fucking laugh riot, I thought sullenly. If I had actually given him the finger, I sure as hell would not want that reaction. I definitely should work on more affective righteous indignation.

  “Get Ulut, because in about ten seconds, I’m out of here,” I said, sulking.

  Alex walked to the door and called for Ulut, but I could still hear him chuckling. Ulut bounded outside, his tongue lolling out in a sort of goofy dog grin. Sometimes, like at that moment when he did something particularly canine-esque, it was difficult to remember he wasn’t an actual dog. Back in his own dimension, he was able to shift back and forth at will, but he explained that the longer he remained an animal, the more animal he became. So far, he hadn’t done anything other than play the trusted companion, but I hoped we discovered a way to let him shift soon. No one wanted to worry about Ulut humping the furniture.

  “You’d better keep up, curly,” I snipped.

  I wasn’t sure why I focused my forced-to-have-a-babysitter induced annoyance at Ulut. He must not have taken it personally, because he responded with a small “woof” and a mentally transmitted, “Looking forward to it, fowl-girl.” His command of the language was improving; he was now capable of thinking he made a joke, even if it wasn’t a very good one.

  Unfurling my wings, I pushed off and took to the sky. The rush of the wind across my body as I sliced through the air was exhilarating, no less so than the first time I took flight. Throughout my life, I’d been an accomplished agoraphobic, and while I still could barely force myself to climb a ladder while human, soaring hundreds of feet above the ground as a bird evoked pure joy instead of disabling panic.

  If his gleeful barking was any indication, Ulut was as enamored as I was with the excursion. He managed to stay reasonably close, but I made sure most of my distance was in the upward direction so he wouldn’t have far to run. Other than a momentary distraction when he inadvertently roused a snoozing javelina from under a Palo Verde tree, Ulut did his duty and kept a watchful eye on me. Alex would be so proud.

  Forty-five minutes later, I swung back around toward the house and landed atop an electric pole. “Hey, I have to find some chow before I change back.”

  Ulut trotted toward my perch and lifted his head. “I think I smell some ground squirrels around. You want me to look?”

  “No, but thanks for the tip.” Ground squirrels were small and difficult to sight, and I only ate them as a last resort. You’d think something that cute wouldn’t taste like ass.

  As I scanned for something yummy, the neighborhood mated pair of Harris’s hawks squawked loudly from somewhere behind me. Normally, they would take extreme umbrage at the presence of a non-relative in their dominion and attack. Somehow, my Yterixa vibe trumped their territorial imperative, and they treated me like a beloved family member. This unusual behavior came in handy, and not just because I wasn’t sure how I’d fair in a fight against two experienced predators. Harris’s hawks like to hunt cooperatively, finding better success when three or more birds team up to catch prey. My ability to sn
ag something was mediocre at best, but when Maris and Ferris joined in, my slim pickings turned into Easter brunch at a fancy resort hotel. Now I was certain I wouldn’t have to settle for whatever I could catch on my own. Or repellant ground squirrels.

  “This should be fun,” Ulut noted, wagging his tail with glee. “It is amazing watching the three of you working together.”

  “Yep, no crappy fast-food Rodentia for me today.”

  “Thank goodness,” he agreed. “Those squirrels make me gag.”

  Why he pointed them out when even he thought they made a vile meal was a mystery. Maybe it was another example of his undistinguished drollery. Fortunately, I didn’t have to dwell on his motivation for long. It was time to hunt.

  Ferris was, as was typical among male birds of prey, smaller than Maris and me. He excelled at sighting and flushing out our quarry, while we girls were responsible for the actual kill. He quickly identified our mark and swooped down, forcing a pair of jackrabbits out of the underbrush. Delicious. One scurried between a small cluster of boulders and cleverly stayed put. The other kept running, and as Maris and I flanked the bunny, Ferris kept flying across its path, corralling it between the three of us. I struck first, knocking the terrified creature onto its side, but Maris delivered the coup de grace, dispatching the poor thing quickly. Alone, my diet consisted of smaller things: cottontails, the dreaded ground squirrels, even an occasional lizard. Jackrabbit was my favorite, but it was too large for me to take down on my own. The long ears were divine.

  I said a silent word of thanks to our meal before we devoured it. While Maris and Ferris likely had no qualms about taking a life for their own survival, I wasn’t as comfortable with it. I usually didn’t have to hunt; Alex or Sebastian would provide something raw and nutritious when I returned. Sometimes, however, my avian instinct to tear into fresh kill got the best of me. I was working on dealing with the guilt, but for some reason, acknowledging the animal’s sacrifice seemed to help me justify my bloodlust.