The Call of Corvids Page 4

“Who’s this?”

  “The next best thing.”

  Chapter Six

  “Never trust a computer nerd who doesn’t have their own domain.”

  ~ Michael Horowitz

  Turned out the next best thing was the lead architect for the building project. Mike possessed the skills and knowledge to remote hack the architect’s computer, pass the firewall and deluxe security software, but Bear couldn’t ask that of his younger brother. It was one thing for Mike to supply Bear with materials so Bear could go off and break the law, it was another thing entirely to ask his ’lil bro to do it for him.

  Apparently, there were still some lines Bear refused to cross.

  So annoying.

  Luckily, Mike wasn’t the only Crawford with computer skills. Bear only needed to connect or hack into the same Wi-Fi connection as the architect and from there, infiltrate her records from within. Security software drove people to have a false sense of protection. In reality, their own actions left them vulnerable to anyone with the know-how and motivation.

  Bear settled down at a small circular pedestal table and took out his laptop. He was fortunate to grab one of the last available seats with his back and computer facing the wall. He preferred not to break the law in front of witnesses wherever and whenever possible. Despite the “casual” atmosphere of cafés, these coffee and tea drinkers alike tended to be nosy—all in the name of “people watching.”

  An image of his twin’s outrage at his judgemental thought made him smile. Ha!

  Bear took a swig of his steaming hot latté and winced. His teeth ached. He’d have to wait for the drink to cool down a little.

  Anne Cho sat down at the table across the aisle from him. Her gaze briefly met his and she flashed him a polite smile. Dressed for business in a pantsuit and flats, she’d styled her black hair into some sort of stylish knot. Juni, his youngest sister, would know what it was called, but Bear didn’t care. Whatever the name, it suited her and left her face unencumbered. Her skin glowed and her eyes scanned the laptop’s screen, while her hands flew across the keyboard.

  His computer dinged. He turned off the sound and smiled. Ms. Cho connected to the café’s Wi-Fi. Perfect.

  The architect’s phone buzzed, and she answered it without taking her gaze off the screen.

  Bear’s smile grew as he worked his way into her system. He took another swig of coffee. This would be a cakewalk.

  “Yes, I saw it,” Ms. Cho hissed into her phone. The warm and appreciative tone she’d used to order coffee had disappeared.

  Bear paused and listened.

  “Your idea of promoting women in construction is a picture of heels for the boardroom and boots for the jobsite with a lame slogan saying we can have it all.”

  She paused.

  “I don’t care if there was a designer purse and a hard helmet.”

  Bear winced for the person on the other end of the phone call. He’d stalked Ms. Cho’s social media. She didn’t hesitate to speak her mind.

  Currently, she paused to listen to the person’s response.

  “How tone-deaf are you?” she asked.

  Bear chuckled into his latté, only to flinch when Ms. Cho looked up and snapped her angry gaze on him.

  He saluted her with his coffee cup and tried not to outright laugh when she called him a douche under her breath.

  He needed to focus on getting this job done while the architect sat at a long table, sipping her latté, and ripping into her co-worker. With a few clicks and taps of the keyboard, Bear accessed her personal and confidential documents. Ms. Cho should’ve known better than to connect to public Wi-Fi, but she also probably didn’t expect someone to follow her for days waiting for the opportunity.

  After five minutes of perusing the architect’s files, Bear knew she was as organized as she was capable. Best news ever. Thieves loved obsessive compulsive, type-A targets. They made it easy to find things. Everything was logically labelled and ordered.

  Since Bear already had the plot ID for the compound, he found the plans and downloaded them to his computer in minutes. He’d feel bad stealing from an innocent architect whose only crime was completing a job, but none of this would blow back to her.

  He disconnected from the Wi-Fi and leaned back in his seat. Now he could finish his coffee and be one with the people watchers.

  Ms. Cho hung up her call and glared at her phone before going back to work. Her gaze scanned the screen with hyper-focus again. Nothing about her posture or expression indicated she realized the breach in her computer security.

  Bear finished his latté and packed up. So far, this job was going smoother than he expected. The building plan glitch was solved without too much delay or complications. Now, he needed to work on a plan to get through the compound undetected.

  Bear rubbed his neck to smooth down the prickling sensation. He’d pulled off a lot of jobs without complications. Why did this one feel different? Why did this one send his gut into churning summersaults?

  Bear scowled and left the café. Only time would give him the answers to those questions.

  Chapter Seven

  “Stealing is a lazy man's way. Something for nothing, leaves you hell to pay.”

  ~ Michael Peterson

  Bear scaled the stone wall and hopped onto the wide ledge at the top. The moonless night bathed him in muted light from far away stars, while the security lights swathed the complex below in stark brightness. Tasha landed close by and looked at him for orders. She’d already helped him gain entry to the inner perimeter by providing a nice distraction.

  The late summer wind brushed by, ruffling black hair in his face and teasing the collar of his worn leather jacket. He surveyed the layout of the facility below. If the owner of this compound was a simple merchant, Bear was a pink unicorn shifter. No low-level supplier from the Underworld had this many safeguards, and Bear would know. He stole from a number of them regularly.

  This complex was different. He’d already slipped past numerous magical protections and rotating guards. Being half-fae provided few advantages in life, but this was one of those times not having much power was a benefit. His meager magic didn’t trip the alarms as long as he wore his charmed ring and didn’t use his magic near the wards.

  Arrogant fae. They only associated power and competence with magic.

  Bear lifted his head to the warm night and croaked. His magic had two sides to it. The passive side didn’t require any conscious thought. Corvids were naturally drawn to him and wanted to please him. Given time, birds would surround him and bring him things they thought he wanted, like shiny pebbles and broken glass. The active side of his magic required intentional effort, drew from his corvid essence and allowed him to forcefully call the birds to him. He didn’t need to wait if he wanted lots of corvids to swarm him. If he chose, he could also use his magic to compel the birds to do his bidding, whatever that may be.

  The call wasn’t pretty or delicate, but it was the call of the corvids and his one true talent in life. A human dog whistle, but for birds.

  The energy of nearby crows and ravens pinged against his mind.

  That’s right, my pretties. Come to Daddy.

  If only he shared his sister’s talent. He would’ve completed the dangerous job already. He’d be resting on his stacks of money with his feet up drinking a cold one.

  More unease crept along his spine, but he shook it off. All his jobs carried risk, and they all rang a few warning bells. This was no different.

  Besides, the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward.

  Ravens and crows swooped around him and perched on nearby tree limbs, the stone wall and ledges on the building. Less than he expected. That had been happening more and more lately. He wasn’t sure if something was happening to the bird populations in the area or whether he was losing his touch.

  He croaked again, singing a song only ravens and crows loved, but a song nonetheless. Weaving in corvid energy, he asked the birds to join him on an adventure.r />
  Join me, he sang. Make mischief with me. Mischief and mayhem.

  Though he could command them if he chose, he asked instead. The next steps would be dangerous, and he didn’t want the birds unwittingly harmed.

  More birds swooped in. Some hopped along the wall to get closer, naturally drawn to his power. They cocked their heads and blinked their beady black eyes while he asked them to come play with him.

  Tasha’s energy pulsed with excitement.

  Of course, they were in. Of course, they’d join him. Corvids loved making a little mischief, just like cats were curious and dogs liked to sniff butts.

  Bear swung his leg over the side of the wall and slid down to the complex grounds. His feet crunched dry grass. The post-collapse air funk cleared, indicating the owner had either paid fairies for an air filter spell or cast the spell himself. Probably the latter.

  Well, that confirmed it. The client was full of shit. This guy wasn’t a merchant. The two security walls, variety of magical detection spells and the air filter said so. A dark fae lord being shady wasn’t exactly a surprise.

  Fae couldn’t be trusted.

  He didn’t normally work for the fae due to their deceptiveness and strong magic, and if he survived this job, he would make it a personal rule never to do so again. He would’ve said no to this job, but that choice had been taken from him the moment the client showed him that picture. No wasn’t an option, and neither was failure.

  Even success carried a risk.

  Bear had finally taken one bad job too many and he only had himself to blame.

  The birds moved ahead and played in front of the security cameras while he crouched down by the fence with wire cutters. He cut the wires, pulled the fencing to the side and scrambled through. A murder of crows branched off from the rest and moved to the next camera. The birds cackled and cawed in the air, flying and playing with delight. He envied their freedom and another pang of jealousy for his sister’s powers stabbed his heart.

  A large raven swooped down and landed on his shoulder. He winced. The bird’s talons dug into the sensitive skin around his shoulder muscles. This bird wasn’t Tasha. Was he the same one who’d joined him on the park bench weeks ago? The same one who attacked that backstabbing client months ago? Did Tasha have competition for his affections?

  I’m Hugie, the bird croaked in his mind. I’ll be your general.

  Bear winced again. The motherfucker was loud. And surprisingly coherent. The birds didn’t often speak to him, not even Tasha.

  We are robbing Shadow Man? Hugie asked.

  Yes. Is that a problem?

  No. We like Shadow Man, but we like you more.

  Bear waited for the birds to finish getting in place. A few had flown ahead to look for guards. The rest would continue to perch or play in front of the security cameras as he made his way through the compound.

  Why do you rob Shadow Man? Hugie asked. He’s dangerous.

  Well, wasn’t that a pleasant thought? No matter how dangerous this Shadow Man was, though, the dark fae lord who “offered” him this job scared Bear more.

  The bird waited for his response.

  Bear needed to be careful here. Ravens and crows automatically wanted to please him and loved to create a little mischief, but they weren’t inherently bad creatures. They were attentive and affectionate.

  I’m making mischief, he answered.

  The bird ruffled his feathers and settled his wings back. He studied Bear with his beady eyes and cocked his head. The bird didn’t believe him.

  Bear might not read minds, but the body language told its own truths. If I don’t, I die, he told the raven.

  We’ll make sure Shadow Man not hurt you.

  He sighed in relief. Even one defector could send the whole group of birds off into the night. Thanks, bud.

  He turned his attention back to the compound as he approached the outer wall of the outermost building in a crouched position. A conspiracy of ravens moved with him as he picked his way through the compound. Thankfully, he’d memorized the schematics from the architect’s plans.

  The Shadow Man had a large windowless room in the center of the central building with walls five times as thick as any of the other walls. The vault had to be there. Bear turned in that direction and kept moving.

  Hugie launched from his shoulders and disappeared into the night with heavy wingbeats while Bear kept his step light on the paved walkway. His sneakers still managed to scuff the ground and the flap of wings overhead punctured the silent night.

  No alarms so far. At least not the kind he could hear.

  He crept along the path until the central building came into view. A crow’s cry was the only warning he got. He dove to the ground, tucked his chin and rolled. Something powerful struck the wall of the building beside him. Brick and mortar exploded, the debris catching his cheek before he turned away. Heart punching his chest, Bear sprang to his feet and ran for cover.

  Footsteps echoed down the walkway.

  On left, Hugie squawked in his mind.

  Bear ducked in time to miss a fist flying at his face. He stepped to the side and drove his left fist into the face of the masked guard. The man crumpled to the ground, smacking the pavement. Bear crouched down, grabbed the guard’s gun and stuffed it in the waistband of his jeans.

  Incoming, Hugie croaked.

  Bear sidestepped another attack. This masked guard blocked his counterpunch and kicked out to sweep Bear off his feet. Bear stepped over the kick, grabbed the man’s extended arm and hooked the ankle of the kicking leg with his own. He twisted and brought down his weight on the man’s bent leg. A sickening crunch and wail sent the birds aloft from their perches. The guard groaned and Bear slipped his arm under his neck while moving behind him.

  Bear mentally pushed the birds back to their positions. Had he been exposed? Had anyone in the guard room seen? Heard the scream? Was one of these guards the shooter or was there someone else? Had they raised an alarm?

  Locking his arms and hands in a classic figure four head lock, he applied pressure to the back of the man’s neck and head. The man thrashed. Bear’s breath became irregular and his heart raced. He was breathing too fast. He had to calm down. A few seconds later, the guard went limp in the hold. Bear lowered him to the ground. Sweat trickled down his face.

  Good, Hugie croaked. No more guards. The rest are all on the outer wall. Just watch the cameras.

  Bear relaxed a little. He’d already bypassed the outer guards and defences without having to engage in combat. Though he could handle himself, especially when he embraced his corvid magic and got advanced notice from his little buds, he wasn’t invincible. And he wasn’t a killer.

  No racing footsteps echoed down the corridors. Hugie was right. No more guards. He straightened and closed the distance to the door with the security panel.

  He considered the door lock. High tech. Expensive. And not infallible.

  Nothing was these days. Not when Bear had a little bro who excelled in everything tech, including bypass keys and breaker boxes for all the common manufacturers of security control panels. He pulled out his toolkit and selected the small screwdriver to remove the cover of the panel. He carefully extracted the front of the panel with the screen to expose the motherboard inside. Noting the company name and model number, Bear dug into his toolkit again, this time extracting the matching code breaker box.

  Thank you, Mike.

  Bear plucked wires out of the toolkit and applied one end of a connector to the panel’s small motherboard and the other end to the code breaker box. He repeated the action for two more wires. He hated this part of the job. No matter how many times Bear practiced or worked on his fine motor skills, connecting these stupid small pinchers to the right locations on the stupid small motherboard pissed him off. As Mike often told him, his large hands might be great at breaking stuff, like faces, but he was crap at the finer details. The gloves didn’t help either.

  The red light on the breaker box lit u
p, indicating it successfully drew from a power source. The small motor hummed in his hand and Mike’s breaker box worked its own kind of magic.

  Oooo shiny. Hugie landed on a nearby ledge and leaned in to watch. Corvids were curious by nature but this one was different than the others who’d flocked to the area to help him out. He’d even managed to scare Tasha off. Why?

  The lights on the panel’s screen flashed green and the door lock clicked open. Bear shook his head and shoved the thoughts of mysterious birds to the back of his mind. He straightened from his crouch, grabbed the door handle with his gloved hand and turned. The large metal security door popped open. The tension knotting his shoulders eased.

  You’re good at mischief making, Hugie croaked in his mind and launched into the air.

  Bear held the door open as he disconnected the breaker box and stuffed his supplies in his toolkit.

  Your father would be proud...

  Bear whipped around and looked for Hugie. The large bird had already disappeared in the night, but his words still echoed in Bear’s mind.

  What the fuck? Terry would only be disappointed to learn how low his son stooped. Bear’s hold on the door slipped. He flung his other hand out before the door clicked shut. The metal door slammed against his fingers and pain raced up his arm. Bear winced. Motherfucker.

  He thanked the other birds and told them to leave after he shut the door. Tasha shot him images of flying in the night sky once again, wanting him to join her. He wished he could. But Bear wouldn’t be flying out of here. He wouldn’t be exiting the same way he entered, either. Pulling the door open, he shook his hand like it would somehow relieve the throbbing pain and slipped inside the building. A tingle of air immediately passed over him. Magic.

  In a breath, he drew in his laughable essence as the magical screen washed over him. The ring charm only worked if he wasn’t actively using his power. The tingling sensation faded, and he continued to breathe. No death magic invaded his soul. He grunted and moved forward, stopping multiple times as more magical sensors screened him. The spell couldn’t be triggered for life in general; otherwise, a fly or mouse or any living creature would trip the alarm, but surely this man with his money and magic could’ve found a way to set the wards to sense a human. But the Shadow Man simply hadn’t bothered.