- Home
- J. C. McKenzie
Conspiracy of Ravens (Crawford Investigations Book 1) Page 13
Conspiracy of Ravens (Crawford Investigations Book 1) Read online
Page 13
Sounded like Bear. “Do you know where his safe house is?”
Marcus shook his head. “No. He never told me.” He glanced up at Cole. “My advice?”
“Of course.”
“If he’s in real trouble, bad enough to make him run to his safe house, leave him there. He’ll emerge when he’s ready. You don’t want to bring trouble to his door.” His gaze flicked to the Lord of Shadows again.
Subtle, Marcus. Real subtle.
Cole grunted and stepped forward.
The air shimmered as Marcus stood and pulled power to him. The light in the room dimmed again as the shadows pooled around Cole. Raven bolted from her seat. Her skin ripped from the plastic. The back of her thighs stung from being wrenched from the plastic chair.
With one step, she placed herself between the two men. “Don’t.”
Marcus grumbled.
Cole scowled.
The lighting and air returned to normal.
“We’ll show ourselves out.” Raven grabbed Cole’s arm and pulled him toward the door. “Thanks for your help, Marcus. It was good to see you again.”
“It’s been too long.” Marcus’ hands clenched. “I wish it was under different circumstances.”
“Me too.” She shoved Cole out the door and left Marcus in the office. They walked quickly out of the shop without saying a word. The heat from the summer’s day blasted her face.
“How long has your brother’s best friend been in love with you?” Cole asked as they walked toward Jean Claude.
Raven stumbled. “Marcus? No. He’s not in love with me. Not in that way.”
“Didn’t appear that way to me.”
Raven sighed. “He thinks of me as a sister. A little sister, even though I’m actually older than him by three months.” And two days, but who’s counting?
“What I saw was not brotherly love.” He wrenched the passenger side door open. It creaked. Loudly.
“Can we not talk about this? Marcus’ feelings aren’t involved in this case.”
“Touchy subject?”
“Awkward subject.” Raven jumped into the driver’s side and sucked in a breath. The hot seat burned her legs. She shut the door and turned the car on. She may as well head over to her parents’ house now and find out what Mike needed. Jean Claude grunted his disapproval.
Cole leaned down to speak through the open door. “Why?”
“He’s my twin brother’s best friend. We grew up together. He’s like family.”
“How long have you been in love with him?” Cole slid into the passenger seat, making the interior of her small car seem smaller in an instant. He wrenched the door closed and turned to her. “Are you still in love with him?”
“What? No.” Not anymore, at least. That ship had sailed long ago.
Cole scowled, his look full of unspoken criticism.
Raven furiously rolled down the window. They hadn’t been gone long, but Jean Claude still managed to turn into a sauna. “Okay. I might’ve had a small infatuation with him when we were in high school. That was a long time ago.”
Cole raised a dark brow and waited, saying nothing.
Her chest tightened, squeezing her lungs. “We kissed at a weekend party once. That’s it. I thought we were going to be a thing, but by the time Monday rolled around, I arrived at school to learn he was dating Mandy Penner.”
“Who’s Mandy Penner?”
“My rival in pretty much everything. It stung, but I got over it.” And she had, but the bitter sting of jealousy still struck when she thought of it. She really hated Mandy Penner. The tension in her chest released, leaving a harsh burning sensation.
“He obviously didn’t.”
Raven glanced over her shoulder and checked her mirrors to ensure the lane was clear, turned the wheel and punched the gas. Jean Claude groaned and clunked but did as she commanded. “That’s a long time to carry a torch for someone.”
“Carry a torch?” He tilted his head.
“Yeah, you know…”
“No. No I don’t.”
“To have feelings for someone you’re not with.”
“I see.”
“Besides, he had two black eyes and walked with a limp for the week following the party.”
“You?”
Raven laughed. “No. I’m not the scrapper in the family. Bear is. I think my brother found out about our moment and they fought over it. Whatever feelings we may have had for each other, we both let it go. Bear means more to us than we do to each other.”
Cole grunted.
“What?”
“Your brother sounds like a selfish prick.”
Her throat closed up and a heavy pit fell in her stomach. She swallowed a couple of times before speaking. “My best friend called him something similar yesterday.”
“And?”
Raven shrugged. “And I get it. I see how you both came to that conclusion, but I don’t think he’s a prick or a jerk. He’s my brother.” In hindsight, Bear probably did them all a favour. They were too young. Had Raven and Marcus dated in high school, they probably would’ve had a messy, painful break-up that would’ve destroyed Marcus’ friendship with Raven and with Bear.
“If he loves you half as much as you obviously love him, he’d care about your happiness, too,” Cole said.
The light ahead turned red. She stepped on the brake and peered over at Cole. “Are you advocating for a Raven-Marcus hook up? Our couple name could be Marven, or Ravus. It would be spectacular.”
“Your couple name?” He shook his head. “No. But your brother shouldn’t have intervened.”
“So, you’re saying you’d be okay with your best friend making a move on your sister? Assuming you have one, of course.”
“A friend?”
“A sister.” She paused. “Well, both, actually.” She didn’t know anything about the shadow man who sat beside her. Most of the documents Mike sent over didn’t cover his personal life, and the fanfiction couldn’t be trusted.
The light turned green and she stomped on the gas. The car lurched forward. She normally didn’t drive aggressively, but the faster she pushed Jean Claude, the more the car forced air through the open windows.
“I’d probably drive my dagger through the man’s chest,” Cole said, answering her question.
She smirked. “Who’s the selfish prick, now?”
Cole clamped his mouth shut and glared.
Raven waited, but he didn’t appear to have a reply. “So…you have a sister?”
Cole shook his head and looked away. Silence filled the car as she drove along the cracked and uneven streets of North Burnaby. Well, okay, then. Apparently, sharing time was over.
“Your real name isn’t Raven, is it? Just like Bear is a nickname.”
Raven glanced over at Cole. Technically, Bear’s real name was Bjorn, but no one called him that, especially not Raven. Before they arrived in the world with mops of black hair and black eyes, their mom had believed their father was a dark-haired swede. Mom had named Raven’s twin brother Bjorn, a Swedish name meaning “Bear,” as a shout-out to their “Scandinavian” father. Mom now referred to this man as the sperm donor. They couldn’t get mad at her either, because she wasn’t wrong. Their biological father had never been in their lives.
Bear and Raven were a product of their mom’s wild days. The sperm donor, whatever his name was, probably had no clue they existed, and all they knew about him was his apparent ethnicity, and “god-like” appearance.
Nice, Mom. Real nice.
And just like Bear, Raven also had a “real name,” though she never used it. Young, pregnant and alone, Elizabeth Crawford had attempted to pay homage to their Scandinavian father and her own heritage. Branwen was a Welsh name, meaning “beautiful raven.” Of course, Bear and Raven had ruined Mom’s efforts by simultaneously choosing to use the simpler translations as names. Their mom hadn’t been impressed. She still gnashed her teeth about it.
“Raven?” Cole said.
“No, it’s not.”
“What is your real name?”
She pursed her lips. He probably already knew. He was the Patron Fae of Assassins, for Odin’s sack. He probably had minions bringing him dossiers full of information on her and her family. Maybe he needed her to admit to her full legal name for him to wield some crazy Other World mumbo jumbo sorcery crap on her.
“You know my full fae name. It seems only fair you tell me yours.”
His statement held no tease, or heat, only manipulation. His words seemed oddly reminiscent of a childhood memory—when Gary Gerrard tricked her into showing him her private parts when they were eight. They’d laid in wait in some grassy ditch in a neighbourhood-wide kid’s game of some sort.
Gary had turned to Raven, and said, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Both eight and friends since birth, she’d giggled at the idea. “No!”
“Okay,” he said. They returned to peering over the ditch edge, looking out for the other team. The grass had been thick and lush, filling her nose with its fresh scent.
“Hey, Raven?” Gary said.
“Yeah?” She’d turned to look at him and there it was. Little boy penis. He’d proudly displayed it, thrusting his hips out, and placing his hands on his hips. Maybe it would’ve been impressive or shocking to someone else, but Raven had a twin brother. Her childhood was filled with little boy penis.
“I showed you mine.” Gary beamed. “Now you have to show me yours.”
Raven’s cheeks heated. To this day, she was ashamed to admit she’d fallen for a fellow eight year old’s manipulation.
Bear and Marcus had found out and beat the snot out of Gary the next day. Broke his front tooth and everything. Neither set of parents had disciplined the boys when they discovered the reason. Raven had the worst punishment—a sit down discussion with dear old Mom about the birds and the bees and not caving into pressure.
Raven cringed.
Cole wasn’t eight, and she wasn’t so naïve anymore. The Lord of Shadows had already proven he respected a woman’s boundaries, so that wasn’t the concern, but information was power, and Cole had enough over her, both in abilities and knowledge.
“Raven?”
She shook her head and shifted Jean Claude into park. “We’re here.”
Chapter Sixteen
“I like failure. It’s one thing I’m good at.”
~Raven, trying to stay positive
The rusty doors to Jean Claude Grand Am screeched as they stepped out of the car into the hot sun. The air conditioning no longer worked in JC, but with the windows down it had been slightly cooler while driving. Now, the mid-afternoon sun beat down on them and radiated in waves off the cooked concrete. Her skin grew warm and sweat pebbled on her nose and forehead. She couldn’t find a free parking spot near her parents’ place. Unfamiliar cars lined the streets. Mrs. Humphreys, the cranky neighbour with a penchant for hating anything different from herself, must be having some sort of pensioners’ shindig. Raven had to park a few blocks away at the nearby shops.
Two ravens perched on a nearby power line and tilted their beady-eyed heads at her. Cole joined Raven on the sidewalk as if meeting her in the park for a leisurely stroll. He glanced at the birds and paused. His brows furrowed as if he tried to silently answer a question.
Did he know what she was? He’d seen the feather, but did he know the extent of her abilities?
While she panted in a tank top and jean shorts, Cole appeared cool, calm and completely unaffected by the heat wave even though he wore enough black to turn a Goth green with envy.
“Aren’t you warm?”
Cole looked away from the birds and turned to her with a pale face showing no signs of perspiration. “Not at all.”
“Do you ever get hot?” She spat her gum out in the trash as they passed. Her mouth no longer tasted of stale coffee, but the gum had lost its fresh vanilla mint flavour.
He leaned in. “I make things hot, Einin.”
Whoo boy, could he ever. Raven froze with her hand halfway to her face. It had risen as if animated on its own to fan her flushed cheeks. She readjusted her purse strap.
“Tell me.” Cole stepped in. “Why does your pulse race every time I come near?”
“You’re the Patron Fae of Assassins.” Her heart thumped against her breastbone. Odin’s sack. He’d asked something similar in the hospital. He was onto her. He’d kissed her last night and although she’d eventually pushed him away, she’d kissed him back like her soul depended on it.
Cole smirked. “Why do your cheeks flush a beautiful rose colour?”
“Your wardrobe makes me feel woefully underdressed.” Heat crept up her neck and spread across her face, and it had nothing to do with the afternoon sun or Cole’s outfit. Why did he have to stand so close?
“And your eyes?”
“What about my eyes?” They tingled as if they had a mind of their own and were delighted to have Cole’s attention.
“Why do they bleed out with the darkness of the Underworld and roam over me with hunger?”
“Uh…” Crap! She hadn’t realized her eyes did that. Her contacts only covered so much. If her Otherness bled out to the whites of her eyes when she was…Odin’s nutsack! He must’ve known every time she’d wanted to dry hump him. She groaned. She needed to find Bear’s hidey hole to curl up in and die from mortification.
Cole closed the distance between them. Only an inch separated his muscle-packed body from hers. The heat from his skin stroked hers, begging to be touched, to be explored.
“Why do you melt in my arms and let me steal your breath with my kiss?”
Well, crap. He knew she was attracted to him. She actively participated in those bone-melting kisses. She was an adult. So was he. Why did she try to deny it?
Her throat tightened. “You’re an attractive piece of man flesh. I can’t help how my body responds to you.”
“Man flesh?” His gaze smouldered and flicked to her lips.
“Cole,” she warned.
“Yes?” He leaned down. His intoxicating forest scent caressed her.
Raven closed her eyes, expecting the lush sensation of his mouth on hers. His arms closed around her torso and wrenched her to the side.
“Wha—?” Her eyes snapped open.
A large ball of fire flew past her face, the heat scalding her cheeks. Two seconds ago, they’d stood directly in its path ready to tongue wrestle. A fuzzy sensation gripped her scalp. Her muscles tensed. Cole flung her to the nearby alley. Her arms flailed and she slammed into the brick wall. Her vision blurred. She wobbled on her legs.
“Stay here,” Cole said.
His shadows wove around her body like a cloak. The now-familiar film slid over her vision. Three dark fae in medieval-esque clothes, probably the latest fashion in the Underworld fae circles, fanned out to approach Cole. In broad daylight, mere blocks from her parents’ house. Odin’s shriveled twig and berries.
Cole pulled back his shoulders and relaxed his legs. He probably smirked at his opponents, but all Raven could admire was how his jet-black hair shone under the sunlight. Sure, Cole was tall, dark and dangerous, but everyone had weaknesses, right? Instead of admiring how his wide shoulders pulled at his shirt when he moved or how fabulous his ass looked in those pants, she should be concerned about his welfare.
One fae, wearing a red-lined cloak, rotated his hands as if coddling an invisible ball while whispering something absurd, like “my precious.” Fire sparked between his hands and grew. The dark fae’s eyes changed from black to dancing fire. He flung the ball at Cole. It sizzled through the air, almost too fast to track. Raven’s breath caught in her throat.
Cole stepped to the side.
The fireball whizzed past him and smashed against the wall beside Raven. She squeaked and jumped. A cold sensation clamped around her stomach, clutching her gut with its icy grip. The smell of scorched rock burst in the air.
The second fae quickly drew throw
ing daggers from his belt. His skin pulsed with a bluish gray glow, and his smile revealed jagged teeth as his hands darted out. Silver flashed in the air under the sunlight. Time slowed. Raven’s heart convulsed.
Cole leaned to the side.
The daggers embedded in the wall, already scorched from the fireball. Dark liquid dripped from the metal down the bricks. Raven’s lip trembled.
Cole stepped to the side to avoid another fireball.
Like the last one, the fire exploded against the wall. Heat blasted the side of her face. Raven gulped. Would the shadow shield thingy protect her from a fireball?
The third fae raised his hands out to the side. Air rushed by him. The gust ruffled Cole’s hair and clothes and pushed against her body, pressing her against the wall. The wind increased in strength.
A fire fae, wind fae and who-knew-what fae. Hopefully, not a weapon warper. They didn’t begin with any elaborate speeches or showy maneuvers. They attacked, which meant they were likely mercenaries. Raven squirmed against the brick.
Cole held his position, slipping from side to side to dodge fireballs and knives.
When their initial attacks failed, the dark fae advanced in unison with no spoken words and no change of emotion. Their stone faces remained trained on the one man capable of getting Raven out of this mess.
Maybe she should run? Would Cole’s shadows continue to cloak her if she escaped?
As if flicking on an internal switch from passive to active, Cole moved. He snaked across the pavement and closed the distance to the other fae with fluid grace. Like liquefied shadow, he continued to dodge their attacks.
Metal flashed in the air. The brick crunched as two knives sank into the wall about a foot from Raven’s head. She straightened and swallowed. Maybe “stay here” wasn’t such a good idea.
Her feet grew roots into the pavement and her limbs froze.
Cole slipped around the weapon fae and delivered staggering blows to the kidneys before completing some sort of judo throw. The first fae to attack continued to fling fireballs at Cole, but he’d started to back away from the Lord of Shadows. Cole advanced, picking up speed, spinning, leaning, ducking around whatever the fae threw at him. In a breath, he appeared behind the fire fae, reached out and snapped his neck in one swift move. The dark fae crumpled to the ground.