The Call of Corvids

by J. C. McKenzie

  Bear paused.

  Okay, he’d always had a temper, but over the years he’d developed coping mechanisms that allowed him to have a better handle on it. Chloe’s presence in his life definitely derailed his self-control.

  He needed to go back and find the jerk from the sidewalk and get rid of some of this rage. Smashing someone’s face always worked as a backup coping strategy. If he kept this anger bottled up much longer, it would burn a hole through his side.

  Chloe looked down into the glass of water. “And so many say one thing and then do another.” Pain briefly flashed across her face.

  Forget finding that guy and fighting. He wanted to erase that look, chase it away. He stepped forward, then stopped. What would he do? Say? What would make things better?

  Her pain was gone before he took his next breath. His shoulders sagged and a realization smacked him in the brain. She didn’t need him to get rid of the bad stuff, she did it on her own. She didn’t need him for anything.

  Instead of rushing to her, he held up the shopping bag and shook the contents.

  “Doing your part to contribute to the global plastic crisis?” She lifted a dark eyebrow.

  “I got some supplies. I’d keep both the toothbrushes to myself for that attitude, but really, that’s just punishing me, isn’t it?”

  Both eyebrows were raised now. “Are we camping here for a while?”

  Bear nodded. “I need time to make a plan and we’re safe here for the time being.”

  She put the glass down on the counter. “What’s your name?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m afraid it does. Or would you prefer me to keep calling you Pretty Boy?”

  He ground his teeth. “Bear.”

  She slipped from her chair and walked around the corner. “Bear? Well, isn’t that a fitting name. You are a big bear of a man, after all. Do you shift into one, too?”

  He ignored the flash of pain her question inflicted. “My twin and I started using the literal translations of our actual names when we were teenagers.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Uncontrolled angst? Hormone-induced protest? Teenaged rebellion? It was stupid, but it stuck, and now we’re stuck with the names. Guess the joke was on us.” Why in the Underworld did he share this story with her? She didn’t need to know.

  “And what’s your twin’s name? Flower?”

  He clamped his lips together. Why’d she assume his twin was female? This was the second time she’d mentioned a sister when he hadn’t said a thing. Had he? No. He was sure he hadn’t. He might be drawn to this woman, but he’d never give up Raven. Twins before wins he always said, and he meant it.

  “Ahh...you’re protective. That’s admirable.” She smiled and kept walking closer, magic flowing out in delicious wave. “Protective and despite being a thief, you have a code of honour.”

  “Don’t make me into a hero.” He hated how her words hit him like slaps of cold water. He didn’t deserve any praise. He’d broken into a secure compound and stolen a person for fuck’s sake.

  “I’m not.” She smiled.

  He wanted to go to her, gather her in his arms and lose himself in the sweet floral scent of her skin and chase away these feelings of failure. Instead, he stepped out of her path and placed the bags down on the coffee table.

  Her lips quirked up as if she found his behaviour incredibly amusing or telling. “So, what shall we do with all this time?” Her dark gaze roamed his body.

  “Not that.”

  “Why not? I’ve been cooped up in a magical box for fifty years.”

  “F...fifty years?”

  “Some creative stretching would be good and having you with me will make it more fun.” She winked.

  “This is getting repetitive.” He shut down the naughty images his brain tried to send him. “You need to stop trying to work your dark fae lust vibes on me.”

  She laughed, the trilling tinkle of bells. “Oh, that’s so funny. You still think I’m doing this.”

  “Well, I know it’s not my winning personality.”

  Chloe’s expression grew serious. “You refused to hand me over to a dark fae lord even though this decision will result in a lost paycheque and quite possibly death.”

  “I didn’t do this to get in your pants,” Bear growled.

  Chloe ignored him and continued. “You have turned down my repeated advances when most men would’ve leapt at the opportunity.”

  He didn’t like the idea of other men and he definitely didn’t like thinking about why he didn’t like it.

  “And then there’s your magic.”

  Bear grunted.

  “It woke me up like a warm ray of sunshine sneaking through the blinds after a night filled with thunderstorms. And I bet you’re still denying the amount of power welling up within you, too.”

  “You’re messing with me.” She kept saying he had magic, but how would she sense it? His mind kept tripping over her claims from earlier. The charmed ring Marcus gave him obscured his magic and he hadn’t taken it off. If magical wards couldn’t sense his power, how could she?

  The truth was she lied. Like all fae.

  She shook her head and stepped closer, bringing her sweet scent with her. “I know you’re part dark fae because of the magic behind that charm. Oh, don’t give me that look. One of my special talents is seeing through such things. I told you, I bring light to where there’s darkness. I see past all the camouflage. You have power and it’s not just hiding behind that ring, is it? You’ve built a wall around it.”

  That stupid wall again, the one built from trauma. Bear clamped his mouth shut and refused to comment.

  She shrugged. “You also have a twin, and you’re protective of your sister. Oh hush, it has to be that way. One male, one female, two sides of the same coin. Powerful fae are always born as twins, as soulmates.”

  He balked. Gross. “She is not my soulmate.”

  “Soulmates for fae aren’t the same as the soulmates you hear about in the movies or read in books. They’re not what the werewolves pine after. When powerful dark fae are born, like you and your sister, the souls are formed to complement each other and balance the power. Your magic strengthens one another. Just as distance weakens you.”

  Guilt stabbed at his chest. Again. He really was an asshole. Raven was a shifter, but instead of shifting into one bird, she shifted into a whole bunch of them. She’d mentioned her conspiracy had grown smaller, but he’d never made the connection with him moving to the North Shore and withdrawing from family events, nor to his own power appearing to dwindle.

  Chloe nodded, somehow reading him like a book. “I see that last one struck a nerve.”

  “Yeah, well, something or someone fucked up with the whole balancing thing, because my sister got almost all of it, while I got none.”

  Chloe cocked her head and reached out.

  Bear flinched away, but she ignored him and slid her smooth hand along the side of his cheek and peered into his eyes. “You are so much more than what you see.”

  He grumbled.

  “Let me show you.”

  “This seduction thing needs to stop.”

  She laughed again, and he wanted to keep saying things to make her laugh and it made no sense. He should be annoyed or angry. But he wasn’t. At least not at Chloe.

  “What do you suggest instead?” She dropped her hand and looked in the bag. “Cards?”

  He shrugged. “Or we could watch some movies.”

  The overhead light caught the mischievous gleam in her eye. “Why don’t we do it all? It will take a while for the fae to lose interest in finding the Claíomh Solais. Plenty of time for me to seduce you with my dark fae lust vibes.”

  “You can try.”

  Her full mouth split into a wide grin. “Oh, I will.”

  Tasha took this opportunity to swoop into the apartment through an open window and land on the table near them.

  Chloe stepped back, eyes wide. “
Who’s this?”

  Bear reached forward and scratched the back of the bird’s neck. “I call her Tasha.”

  “A pet?”

  Tasha preened under the attention and stretched her neck.

  “No, not a pet. A friend, maybe? She follows me whenever I’m outside.”

  “Like a shadow,” Chloe whispered.

  Something in her tone made Bear look up. Emotion flickered in her gaze, but Chloe hid it too quickly for Bear to decipher.

  If he was being honest, he couldn’t read women. He never doubted when he pissed off one of his sisters, but that skill probably developed from repeated exposure over his lifetime. Bear wasn’t stupid, and his sisters were about as subtle as sledgehammers to the head.

  The women he formed casual relationships with were different. Sure, he could read body language in the bedroom and decipher the physical stuff—when they liked or wanted something. He was attentive in bed and made sure they enjoyed their time with him. But the emotional, feely, frou-frou stuff? Not his strength. And it never bothered Bear that he lacked this skill.

  Until now.

  He wanted to rip apart the shield Chloe quickly constructed to hide her feelings. Tear it down, read her like a book, and make everything better. And not just with his dick, which was weird.

  And new.

  And uncomfortable.

  Bear grunted and stepped away from Chloe. What in the Underworld was going on with him? He looked around for answers, but Chloe was too busy telling Tasha how pretty she was, and Tasha was too busy revelling in the attention.

  Chloe reached out with her hand, pausing a few inches from Tasha. The bird stopped preening and cocked her head.

  Bear held his breath. Tasha had never revealed herself to anyone outside his family before and she only let Bear or Raven touch her.

  Instead of shying away, the bird hopped along the table and shoved her head into Chloe’s hand.

  Chloe obligingly scratched Tasha. She beamed at Bear over the bird, her smile dazzling.

  Something weird happened in Bear’s chest and he wasn’t entirely sure he liked it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I have not failed. I’ve just found 10 000 ways that won’t work.”

  ~ Thomas A. Edison

  A long strand of hair tickled Bear’s face. He startled awake and jerked up. His forehead smacked against something solid. Ouch.

  “Mmmph.” Chloe reeled back and clutched her nose.

  Bear threw off a blanket and sat up. Cool night air gently flowed through an open window, a nice refreshing change from the hot day spent cooped up inside. He winced and rubbed his forehead. The soft lamp light illuminated the couch and reflected off the blank television screen while casting Chloe in shadows. Her white hair cascaded down her body, clinging to her curves.

  “You sure know how to thank a lady.” Chloe straightened and dropped her hand from her nose. It wasn’t bleeding and pain no longer crinkled her eyes. Instead, her gaze blazed from fire within, eyelids lowered, cheeks flushed, and mouth parted. He’d have to be a statue not to react to that look. Had she been anyone else, if this had been anywhere else, he would’ve reached out and pulled her to him. Every inch of his body wanted her right now, to sink into her heat and lose himself in the tangle of their bodies. Tension gripped him.

  He shook his head. Not real. Stupid dark fae lust vibes.

  “Sorry about the head butt. Reflexes. You okay?”

  She grunted and sat down beside him. “I can see how you’d need to be vigilant with someone trying to cover you with a blanket.”

  Vigilant. He was a mockery of the word. It had been over a week of hiding and although the scratches on his face and his hand had healed, he was no closer to figuring out a solution to this mess. Instead, he’d grown closer to Chloe and complacent. Last night, he’d fallen asleep with her in his arms. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t extract himself. Oh, no. Not this idiot. He’d stayed and enjoyed the comforting sensation of her pressed against him and her hair in his face. Tonight, he’d fallen asleep on the couch again and this time hadn’t stirred when Chloe got up, apparently. He was losing his touch.

  “Oh, relax. It was just a blanket.”

  He glanced at the runes that kept her prisoner in the apartment. If the runes didn’t prevent her from harming him, her own common sense would. Without him, she’d have no connection to the outside. Hmm. Was that the only reason he still drew breath?

  “You mentioned the runes worked in a way I didn’t understand,” he said.

  Her lips twitched.

  “Why don’t you explain them to me?”

  Chloe leaned back on the couch. “I think not, Pretty Boy.”

  This wasn’t the first time he’d asked, and like the other times, she refused to answer. “Why not?”

  “I find watching this play out much more entertaining.”

  “Hmm.”

  She giggled and the tiny bells of her laughter spread warmth through his chest. What the in the Underworld was wrong with him?

  “Bear?” She turned to him, her arm brushing his own.

  “Yes, Chloe?”

  She leaned toward him, her serious expression turning her face to stone.

  The door burst open. Splinters flew through the air and the door crashed into the wall. Dark fae soldiers poured into the room.

  Bear sprang from the couch and lunged at the first soldier, blocking his strike and countering. His fist slammed into solid armour. Pain shot up his arm and he winced. He stepped out of the way, grabbing the man’s arm and twisting it behind him. Before he could use it as leverage, a gauntlet covered fist smashed into his face.

  Lights flashed.

  Something cold pierced his side.

  Bear staggered, crashing against a side table and knocking it over. He deflected more blows, barely reacting in time while he frantically searched the room. Chloe fought beside him, but there were too many of them.

  “Run!” he yelled, ducking out of the way of another attack. He kicked the soldier out of the way. “Get out of here.”

  She shot him an annoyed glance and kept blocking her attacker’s strikes. She was breathtaking. Spinning, dodging, ducking. She was a whirlwind of deflections and efficient counterstrikes. Heat poured off her.

  Another fist broke through his guard and slammed into his side.

  Oomph. The strike knocked the air from his lungs. He doubled over. A lamp crashed to the ground. Furniture flipped over. Too many.

  He gushed blood. He’d been stabbed at least once. His vision wavered. They were going to die here—in his shitty safe house apartment with two glasses, two plates, a bowl and three spoons. And it was all his fault.

  Bear continued to deflect blows as the soldiers continued to press forward. They hadn’t drawn their swords—too cramped. He reached for his corvid energy and pulled. Desperate and grasping, he yanked at everything he had. Magic tore through him and he roared. The call of corvids filled the room, shattering glass and shaking the walls. Birds streamed into the apartment through the open windows, answering his call. They flew at the soldiers, pecking at faces, scraping and tearing skin with their talons.

  The soldiers thrashed at the air, batting at the crows and ravens with their fists and knives. Birds croaked and cawed, squawking and crying out as they flailed to the ground.

  No! Not that. Not them, too.

  Where’s Tasha?

  His gut sunk as he frantically searched for his shadow among the fallen birds. He didn’t see her, but he didn’t feel her energy pinging against his, either.

  Out of the chaos, a soldier stepped in front of Bear and unsheathed his sword. Cold settled over Bear. This was it. This warrior would gut him right here, right now.

  “That’s enough,” a silky-smooth, melodious voice rang through the room, a woman’s voice suggesting seduction and dark promises. Still enthralled by her voice, he wasn’t prepared for corvid energy to crash against his. Intense, twisted and strangely alluring, the magic reached insid
e him, surrounded his power and squeezed. His energy suffocated.

  The surviving crows and ravens called out in confusion, beady black eyes wild. They stopped attacking the fae while he struggled to breathe. Two soldiers stepped in behind Bear and gripped his arms. Two more soldiers did the same to Chloe. Now contained, the suffocating pressure on his corvid energy eased.

  The soldiers at the door stepped aside to let a woman enter the room. Tall, lean, with black hair pulled back in intricate knots, her pale face emitted a light all on its own. She wore a dress made of black feathers that hugged the top of her body and flared out into a skirt at her hips. It didn’t fit with the large metal scythe with a skull etched into the blade that she clutched in one hand.

  “Poor choice of accessories,” his youngest sister, Juni, would have said. Fuck, he was glad she was nowhere near here.

  Bear panted, sweat running down his face and blood running down his body. He likely faced death in the next few minutes and all he could think about was his siblings and their snark.

  He focused on the woman with the commanding presence. Her black eyes and suffocating power marked her as dark fae, but she also wore a subtle black crown barely noticeable in her mass of black braids.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  A cruel smile spread across her face. “I’m Lloth, Queen of Corvids, and you are...?”

  Screwed. He was absolutely, one hundred percent screwed. His face must’ve said it all because the woman laughed. Unlike Chloe’s tinkling laughter, he had no wish to hear any more of this woman’s cackling.

  “I know your name, Bjorn Crawford. I’ve been looking for you. I’ve even met your sister.”

  Though he had two sisters, he knew automatically which one she referred to. “Stay away from Raven.”

  She leaned forward. “No.”

  Bear lunged at her, but the firm grips on his arms kept him in place. He looked around the room, desperately, frantically, searching for escape. If he could shift like Raven, he’d already be out of the room and Chloe wouldn’t have stayed. His abdomen ached with a painful throb.

  “You should’ve run,” he told Chloe.

  She shook her head, white hair clumped together with sweat and blood.