Flight: The Roc Warriors (Immortal Elements Book 1)

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Flight: The Roc Warriors (Immortal Elements Book 1) Page 4

by Sarah Zolton Arthur

He clearly registered my change in tone, his body stiffening. “Meena,” he started.

  “Mmm?” I answered, fighting not to look in his direction, opening my case and pulling folders out to spread them over the bed.

  “Nothing.”

  “Well, I’ll be here working until dinner.” Again, I said it not looking at the man. I couldn’t. Not until I got these stupid emotions under control.

  I heard the door clap shut; only then did I look at the empty spot where he’d been.

  Thank goodness—which seemed a troubling thought considering the nature of my work, and the reason I’d been sent to the cap in the first place—thank goodness I had my files to occupy my time.

  I went back to studying the last readings, the ones I’d taken before the wolf attack. Off-the-charts readings. Scientifically, it shouldn’t be possible. How could our girl who’d been classified dormant suddenly be ready to blow? There should be a gradual buildup of activity and pressure. Instead we’re looking at the modern-day equivalent of Vesuvius before it leveled Pompeii.

  Time must have gotten away from me because before I knew it, a knock sounded from the door, and I looked up, blinking rapidly. The sky outside had shifted to an orange-honey, signaling the setting sun after a storm.

  “It’s open,” I called out, because I’d never locked it.

  Shadow stepped in the room looking… breathtaking? Could men look breathtaking? Well, I supposed they could because his appearance in my room took my breath away. He’d worn a brown suede vest as his shirt, which left an expanse of copper skin on display. Those sculpted biceps, dark brown mane lush and shiny hanging down to his shoulders. Brown denim jeans and brown leather boots, which reminded me of motorcycle boots. It all demanded my attention.

  I swallowed hard.

  I couldn’t help it.

  “Is it dinner time already?” I asked meekly, running my fingers through my still-windblown-from-flying-up-a-mountain-earlier hair.

  He laughed.

  “Let me just—” I thumbed over toward the bathroom and quickly followed my thumb, grabbing up my suitcase on the way to the bathroom.

  In my haste to get to the jobsite, I’d neglected to pack any makeup with me from home. It wasn’t like the Canadian Rockies were a prime man-landing location. And I’d been there in an official working capacity. The volcanos never cared if I drew cat eyes with eyeliner.

  All my clothing, I’d packed for comfort and working out in the field. Not to put too fine a point on it, but whereas Shadow looked GQ, I simply looked Farmers’ Almanac. At least they’d remembered to grab my hairbrush.

  When I stepped from the bathroom, I felt self-conscious. “I, um… didn’t pack for going out,” I told him, totally avoiding eye contact by paying extra attention to wrapping and unwrapping a long strand of hair around my finger.

  “You look beautiful no matter what you wear.” Shadow held his hand out for me to take, which I did. And when I finally braved making eye contact, I was struck by the way his eyes shined and the way his lips formed a small smile, not happy or flirtatious, but—I could almost call it caring. He really meant what he’d said. He really thought me beautiful no matter what I wore.

  If a heart could smile, mine just did.

  From the boarding house, he took me into the heart of the city. I’d been surprised to take the elevated train, like in Chicago. Naturally, bird people used an elevated train. Really, the only difference between Shadow’s bird people and the regular old humans down the mountain—at least that I’d seen thus far—was the fact that they transformed into birds in the first place.

  When the doors of the train car slid open, we were met with incredibly loud, thumping, and at times, contrasting beats pumped out onto the strip to entice the partiers to come have a drink and cut loose on the dancefloor with them instead of the next establishment. Although I didn’t recognize any of the songs, it was clear from the time we hit the avenue that they loved their music. They loved to dance.

  That had never been my life. Dance clubs and partying were for kids with parents who loved them. Or with families to fall back on if they failed. Every moment of my life was dedicated to studying. To working hard. To rising above my circumstances. Thus, I supposed I was kind of an old young person. Shadow, thankfully, kept us walking past the clubs and the fact that he did, whether he somehow figured this out about me, or he, himself wasn’t into the club scene, hit me in the feels.

  The smart thing to do would be to pull back a little. Put some emotional distance between us. But I found that harder and harder to do the more time we spent together. This weird draw I felt toward him, the niggling suspicion that I’d known him much longer than when I met him as bird, even though I knew that was impossible—it all grew stronger with each passing moment together.

  “Are you okay, eaglet?” Shadow asked. “You look pained.”

  Yikes, I needed to practice my poker face. “I’m just cold,” I replied. And that wasn’t a total lie. I found it chilly so far up. Though, strangely enough, never did my body need to adjust to the thin air. I felt as if I were in Denver, a city I’d visited two years ago when I’d gone on my food truck vacation. I’d started on the east coast and hit every major food truck city along the way.

  In Denver I’d had to pace myself with the alcohol consumption because of the difference in altitude. That had been the only side effect.

  That was how it felt now.

  “I should have brought you a jacket,” he mumbled under his breath as he veered us toward a heavy glass door. “We are here,” he then said louder.

  Shadow held it open for me to walk in first. A restaurant. Like the boarding house interior, it consisted of stone, wood, and brass. The tables were all made from thick, single-slab wood stained the color of rich maple syrup. One whole wall was adorned with a massive wood and brass wine holder that stored hundreds of bottles.

  So different from down below, yet so much was the same. I found it amazing my eyes could drink it all in. My mind could absorb and then process being here. In this place. In the city. With Shadow. We continued to hold hands as he led me to the back of the bistro until he let go to pull out my chair. I looked way underdressed compared to the rest of the patrons. They likely felt the same, given the disapproving glares I picked up as I cast my glance around the small space.

  On a whole, they were a beautiful people. Proud. Majestic. Not unlike eagles themselves. Apparently, eagle people had no blondes. I mean, I figured that from Shadow’s coloring, along with Race and Bracken, that with their heritage, they’d have dark-haired people. Even seeing the people in the square this morning, where only brunettes had passed us, I still figured that in a city the size of Cloud, other ethnic backgrounds lived in different sections. Now though, with my lack of height and hair, I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb.

  “Why are there no blondes here?” I asked. “I’m a freak among beautiful people.”

  Reaching over the table, Shadow chuckled softly as he took my hand and held it trapped against the flat surface with our fingers entwined. “First, eaglet, you are beautiful. Dare I say, the most beautiful.”

  Shadow thought I was the most beautiful? If a sentiment like that didn’t bring on the warm fuzzies, nothing would.

  “Secondly,” he continued. “there are blondes in Cloud because I am looking at one.” His tone, his eyes, they mesmerized me. So serious, yet relaxed—no, not relaxed, more like contented—at the same time.

  For some reason, I felt a blush spread over my cheeks. Why? I mean, he was right. I was blonde. Not like Marilyn Monroe blonde. More golden with hints of red that shone through when hit with direct sunlight.

  Sitting here with the gorgeous Shadow, in this majestic place, listening to him compliment me and feeling like those compliments meant more than any other accolade I’d ever received, my emotions continued to run all over the place. I’d like to catch even one and pin it down, but as of yet, that blush might have come from shyness or pleasure or even a coquettish co
me-hither.

  The waitress interrupted my thoughts by arriving at our table. A welcome interruption for me. Although I was sure she’d been about to take our drink orders, when she caught sight of Shadow, she stopped abruptly. “My aerie-lor—”

  Whatever she’d been about to say, he rudely cut her off by not letting her finish, instead waving his hand flat in that universal gesture for “that’s enough.” While she sucked back the remnants of her word, he ordered for us. “We will both have the mulled elderberry and dinner.”

  At his “we will both,” she finally turned to look at me. Her nametag read Vista. I made a point to search it out, as she’d neglected to introduce herself. Tilting her head, surprise shone in her eyes.

  “You’re blonde… and so… tiny,” she told me, as if I didn’t already know.

  “Well, yes—”

  She talked over me. “Like an eaglet.”

  Shadow chuckled again until I cut a sharp look at him, and he cleared his throat. “Yes, but I will ask you to leave it be and continue with our drinks.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Sorry. Mulled elderberry. Right. Sorry Lor—um, sir. Sorry.” Then oddly, she stumbled back a few steps from our table, slightly dipped her head in a subtle bow, and then quickly turned to speed-walk back to the bar.

  “That was weird,” I said while I continued to watch her give our order to the bartender. As I watched her, she and the bartender periodically glanced our way.

  “I come here frequently,” said Shadow. “She is clearly new. I am sorry she made you uncomfortable.”

  “What’s aerie?”

  He looked at me, brows crinkled, clearly puzzled.

  “She said ‘aerie.’” How could he not have heard her?

  “It is what my people call a grouping of eagles,” he said quite matter-of-factly.

  “Oh. I thought that was a convocation?”

  “Yes, it is.” Shadow simply changed the subject. “You’ll love the mulled elderberry.”

  It appeared he didn’t want to talk about aeries or convocations. I heaved a heavy breath through my nose, and gave him that diversion.

  “What exactly is mulled elderberry?” I understood the meaning of mulled well enough. And although I didn’t think I’d ever had one, elderberry ended in berry, so I was pretty confident on that front, too. Beyond that…

  “It is an elderberry brandy mulled with cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, citrus peels, and honey. It was created centuries ago to celebrate the pair-mating of our first king and queen. The people embraced it, and it has been our official drink ever since.”

  “It’s that good?”

  “We serve it to all our travelers or foreign dignitaries when they visit the city. So yes, I am proud to say it is that good.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to try it,” I replied. And as if she read my mind, the moment I’d finished speaking, Vista appeared at our table with two mugs of mulled elderberry, which smelled absolutely divine. Strangely enough, she stood peering at Shadow after she’d put the mugs down, an expectant look on her face like she waited for praise or something.

  Shadow lifted a mug to his lips and took a sip.

  “Our own special blend of the traditional mulling spices,” Vista informed him.

  His smile tipped up at one corner of his lips. “And it is very good,” he told her. “Thank you.”

  Her smile went huge—megawatt. Then the same as the first time, she dipped her head in a slight bow and backed away before she turned.

  “Okay, now what was all that about?” I asked with a snicker as I brought the warm drink to my mouth. “Ooh, it is good.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe she finds me attractive.”

  Sure. I mean, the man owned attractiveness in spades, but his response bothered me. I bristled. “Well, maybe you want to get her number before we leave. Vista is quite attractive.”

  “No need for jealousy. I am here with you.”

  My chest and my cheeks puffed as I tried to utter an indignant, “What?” But it came out stuttered, hence he knew he had me. I felt jealous of Vista the bistro waitress, who had to stand at least 5’11 to 6’ and worked her thick mane of deep, rich burnt umber better than I’d ever been able to work my hair after spending hours and hundreds of dollars at a salon. That didn’t mean he got to call me out on it. Not on a first date at the very least.

  Along with her perfectly smooth, lightly tanned skin and voluptuous curves, she looked exactly like the type of woman who should be on the arm of a man like Shadow.

  “Is she going to take our order?” I asked for an obvious change of subject.

  “Okay.” Shadow smirked at me. “I will give you that out. Just remember I gave it.”

  I bristled. Picking up my mug for something to focus on, I sipped on more of my drink and looked around to take in the space, being honest, to not have to look at Shadow.

  I peeked out of the corner of my eye anyway, though, to find his smirk faded because he’d burst out laughing.

  Burst out.

  Laughing.

  “Nothing’s funny,” I grumbled.

  “Of course not. The prix fixe menu here is very serious. The best in the city, and that, Meena, is saying something because we are known far and wide for our cuisine.”

  Thankfully, he gave me my out. And I could tell he meant every word uttered. Their cuisine appeared to be a point of pride for the city.

  Going off the easy vibe we had going, not to mention his playfulness, it was easy to settle my snit by the time Vista brought our first course. Being a prix fixe meal, we didn’t need to order. We got what the chef was serving today.

  And no one could deny the validity of his statement. Although not the most vegetarian-friendly cuisine, it tasted delicious. They preferred animal proteins cooked rare to medium rare at most.

  Our first course consisted of slices of cured meats, fresh cheeses and a crudité of briny olives and baby pickles, to cut the fat of the meat and cheeses. Along with this she served a naan-type flat bread and hummus-like spread. It wasn’t hummus, though, as although I couldn’t identify the bean, I knew it wasn’t chickpeas.

  The rest of the meal consisted of different water fowl, breaded and deep-fried ricotta-esque pancakes, sides of golden rice flavored with dried blue and elderberries, black walnuts and sage. And of course, more meat. The red meat they ate rare, and he had yet to tell me from what kind of animal they’d harvested it. Since it tasted out of this world, I decided it best not to push the subject.

  So, I was probably eating rare-cooked door mouse or packrat.

  For dessert, Vista brought us this layered dish made up of a thinner flatbread than what we’d eaten with dinner, smeared with a soft, herbed farmer’s cheese. That they’d topped with a berry and nut compote. After placing the final layer of flatbread on top, they’d soaked the whole concoction in a honey syrup.

  If this was the treatment I could expect in Cloud City, part of me didn’t want to ever go back down the mountain. Though, I knew once the situation that brought us here was over and considering the urgency of my job, heading back down was inevitable.

  Since he seemed to like me, how would Shadow take the news?

  Chapter Four:

  The Time Has Come

  After so much good food, I’d been afraid of Shadow having to roll me out of the restaurant. Thankfully, my legs carried me just fine.

  As I said, bars with music and dancing made up most of the nightlife. Though, leaving the bistro, Shadow asked me to take a walk with him. A perfect activity to cap off a wonderful evening—the lights of the city behind us and the absolute blackness of a cloud-covered, starless sky ahead.

  My arm linked through his, we wandered along an empty sidewalk with Shadow pointing out stars and planets that we could see with the naked eye from this far up. He continued this until we reached a railing hung low enough not to disrupt the view but kept moonlight strollers like us from venturing too close to the drop off.

  “This is my favorite spot in the city,�
�� he whispered. His hot breath tickled the skin under my ear and made the loose hairs hanging close dance as we turned to sit down on a cool rock. He fit me between his legs. My back to his chest, his arms wrapped snuggly around my shoulders.

  “I can understand why,” I said while dropping my head back against his collarbone and sighing. “It’s so beautiful and peaceful here.”

  “You think so? Most women of the city prefer to go out dancing. You have probably noticed the higher-than-average number of nightclubs on the avenue. Though, they are all over the city.”

  “Well, Shadow, one thing to learn about me: I’m not like most women.”

  “I see that.” He gave my shoulders a squeeze and rested his chin on top of my head.

  The pins and needles feeling in my hands prickled stronger and swiftly moved to encompass my entire body. It was probably caused by the altitude here. Finally, a reaction. Although I didn’t feel dizzy or sick to my stomach. I decided not to tell Shadow just yet. No sense worrying him over something likely to correct itself in a day or so when my body acclimated.

  We stayed until the wind began to pick up and goosebumps rose over my skin.

  “You are freezing, eaglet.” Shadow rubbed his hands over my arms. “Why did not you say something?”

  “I like being here and I didn’t want it to end.”

  “Nor do I,” he whispered because apparently, he didn’t want it to end either. The beautiful man, instead, held me out there at the edge of the city, the edge of the mountain, for a little while longer, wrapping me tighter in his arms to warm me. We stayed quiet for most of that time until he broke the silence, laughing as he asked, “Do you believe in magic now?”

  I harrumphed as my response.

  He laughed even harder, the rumble coming from low in his belly. It was a glorious sound.

  The prickly tingles grew stronger, and when he tugged on my hands to pull me to stand, they shot from my fingertips. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear sparks, actual real sparks, flashed between our linked fingers. What’s more, with his quick glance and small smirk, I’d swear he saw them or felt them, too. Better not to ask if he saw sparks. He’ll think I’m crazy.

 

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