Call of the Raven (22 page)

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Authors: Shawn Reilly

Tags: #shifter paranormal romance, #indiana fiction, #shifter series

BOOK: Call of the Raven
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Ari shook his head. “I wasn’t mad as much as
I was disappointed. Remember when you first came to the manor, how
every time I got too close, you either kicked or bit me?” Ari
arched his brow when Nixon smiled. “You find that funny?”

“Only because you were a pansy that went
running to Grant every time I did.”

“Well, it’s sort of like that now,” Ari
frowned. “I want you to trust me instead of always going to Asher.”
Shifting uncomfortably Nixon looked away from him, back to the
window. And even though Ari knew he couldn’t make anything out
other than the big yellow glowing sign that read Lake Inc. across
the street his eyes lingered there. “Wow,” Ari said looking up at
the ceiling, “I guess I am jealous of Asher.”

“Ari,” Nixon said softly, “I respect you but
this thing with Asher and me, it goes deeper than even I fully
understand but the second—the very second I can talk about it, I
swear I will.”

“Ok then. In the meantime I’ll try not to be
jealous, even though I’m not sure that is the right word either,”
Ari laughed. He pulled his legs up onto the bed. “My brother has
been cold, heartless, bitter and quite selfish since Grant died but
I do love him and that’s why I gave everything up to serve him. And
I do serve him.” Thoughtfully Ari touched his ring. The silver felt
warm under his finger.

“Then you’re not mad at Asher for not telling
you about Grant’s kid anymore?”

“Oh, I didn’t say that,” Ari said. “I may not
have known about Grant having a child, but I did know about his
girlfriend. Actually, a few days before Grant’s call he came into
my room and asked me to take care of her if anything should happen
to him. I didn’t think much of it. I was in the middle of studying
for an English test and I let the request go in one ear and out the
other. The Raven’s curse didn’t seem real to me then, not like it
does now.”

Ari sat up and dropped his legs over the side
of the bed. His guilty conscience was getting the best of him. “I
didn’t keep my promise. I got caught up in grief and selfishness. I
was angry at Asher for shutting me out and I ran. I’m ashamed of
that now. The way I see things is I’m just as much to blame if not
more than Asher. Grant knew he couldn’t depend on him, but he
trusted me and I let him down.”

Rubbing his tense shoulder muscles, Ari
deeply breathed. “Anyhow, I’m not sure what part Steve Barton plays
in this, but I should probably find out.” He glanced at the clock
on his nightstand and saw that it was just a little before six. “I
think I’ll take a shower and then head over to the office to use my
computer. I think the faster we find her the better.”

“But Martaugh said that she couldn’t find any
trace of her in the company’s records,” Nixon reminded him.

“We keep everything. When Asher took over it
became a strict law. I’ve been going over years of financial
records, I should know. I guess I’ll just have to see what I can
dig up myself. You get a little rest and then wake up Kennedy.
We’ll meet up for breakfast in two hours.”

Nixon started for the door. “Ari,” he said
turning back, “I really am sorry.”

“I know Nix,” he said.

Once he was gone Ari headed for the bathroom.
Shutting the door, he pulled his shirt up over his stomach and was
startled by two blue eyes staring back at him in the full length
mirror. Strange, he thought as his heart rapidly thudded in his
chest, they appeared to be his own but his eyes were brown.
Stepping closer he put a finger on the reflection of the left eye,
and noticed it close at his touch. His eye, his real eye was still
open. And then he noticed the black ring around the iris. Ari
wasn’t looking into his own eyes, but instead his brothers.

Sure he was still suffering the effects of
hitting his head, Ari started to turn away, but again he was taken
by surprise when Grant’s image slowly materialized before him. When
the image began to fade, Ari panicked. He stepped closer and
slapped both hands on the mirror’s surface. There was so much he
wanted to say.

“Grant, come back please,” he begged and as
tears fell quickly from his eyes, the words of the wolf were once
again impressed into his mind.


He must call the Raven or my sacrifice
will be in vain. You need to help Asher before it’s too late and
he’s lost to himself. Don’t forget the promise you made to me. It’s
more important now than ever that you find her.”

 

***

 

Asher stood in
front of the mirror
gazing into the reflection that was not his own, but instead his
brother’s. Ari stood with his hands flat against the surface as
though he were looking at him through a glass window and not a
bathroom mirror. Reaching out Asher placed his palms over those of
his brother’s. They matched in size down to the very length of
their pinky fingers, but on Ari’s ring finger he wore the ring of a
guardian, which was the very link that bound them together in
spirit, and was the ball and chain that had made him a prisoner his
whole life.

Asher pulled on his magic, guiding and
directing the flow into his left hand, more specifically his ring
finger, until Ari’s ring transferred to his own. Realizing the ring
was gone Ari suddenly pulled back and frantically started to look
for it. He searched the floor and the tub next to where he stood,
and then feeling its loss, he dropped down onto the tile floor. He
pressed his head against the mirror and started to cry. Lowering
down before his brother’s image, Asher put his back to the mirror
and closed his eyes. He could almost feel the weight of Ari’s head
as though it rested on his very shoulder.

“No longer brother will you be bound to me.
Today is a new dawn. Restitution starts here with you.” Without
looking, Asher put his hand behind him until he felt the coldness
of the mirror under his palm and once again he uttered the dreaded
words. “The procedure is painless, but some things are better left
forgotten…”

Chapter
Thirteen

 

Her Song

 

 

Elle pulled Julio’s
coat tighter and
turned the page. The sun was just starting to rise and the
batteries in her flashlight were beginning to grow dim. She had
only gotten as far as the second chapter and she wanted to read
more even though she was starting to agree with Hatori’s critics.
So far the book was depressing and the main character Pain had gone
through a major character transformation, and she didn’t like him
much.

With just a paragraph left to go the
flashlight died and Elle cursed her luck. Getting up she took the
book and the flashlight over to a large flower pot where she grew
tomatoes in the summer and hid them underneath. After Julio left
for work she planned to bring both the book and flashlight inside.
Even though it was relatively warm, more snow was in the forecast
and she didn’t want the book getting ruined. Just beyond the fire
escape a light flashed in a window—her bedroom and Elle
groaned.

Hurriedly she climbed back in the kitchen
window. She removed Julio’s coat and hung it over the chair just
like she found it and went to the stove. Turning on the gas flame
she rushed to the fridge for the carton of eggs and milk. Elle
craved coffee but Julio hated the smell of coffee on her breathe.
She couldn’t recall the last time he had kissed her but still she
only poured enough water in the pot for him.

Yawning Julio entered the kitchen just as she
finished cooking breakfast smelling strong of cheap cologne and
cigarette smoke. Julio usually couldn’t wait for a smoke so he lit
up even before he brushed his teeth in the mornings.

“It’s time you get a job.” Julio said. Elle
sat the cheese omelet down in front of him. He looked at the plate
and frowned. “What is this garbage?”

“I thought you liked cheese omelets?” Elle
knew he liked cheese omelets because she had made one for him every
Saturday morning for the last five years. As a matter of fact he
had insisted she did. But this day Julio pushed the plate away from
him like he had never tasted one before.

“Yeah, well sometimes you just get tired of
the same ole things.”

Elle lowered her eyes. She wondered if the
name Becky written on the inside of the matchbook she found inside
his coat pocket had anything to do with his sudden dislike of
omelets.

“You want something else then?”

“You are dumb, of course I want something
else. I’m going to work and when I get home I want this place
clean. You need to carry your weight, and from the looks of you
lately you have enough of that.”

Elle sat her fork down and took several long
deep breaths. She had worked until midnight cleaning the apartment
while she waited up for him, and that was the thanks she got…to be
called fat? Julio grabbed his coat off the chair and put it on. The
comment wasn’t the first one he made concerning her weight. Yes,
she had gained weight but that was to be expected. She was still
brooding over the comment when she realized two things, one—she was
alone in the apartment and two—the little girl downstairs was
repeatedly calling her name.

“What do you want Mary?” Elle leaned out the
kitchen window. She could see her, leaning out the window
below.

“My mom’s acting funny Elle,” Mary cried,
“could you please come down?”

“If I come down will you promise me you’ll
take a bath?”

Julio had her stomach in such knots and mixed
with Mary’s repulsive smell the two often didn’t get along. Mary
gave her a nod so Elle gathered up the omelets and made her way
downstairs. Julio wouldn’t return until late evening, if he
returned at all. The instant the door opened, Mary’s eyes landed on
the omelet in Elle’s hand.

“Remember Mary you promised.”

“Can I at least eat first?”

“Yes, just do it at the table.” Elle waved
her on.

Mary’s mother was lying on the couch. Her
glazed eyes stared straight ahead. Her mouth was moving but the
words were too faint for Elle to hear. Crossing over to the coffee
table Elle pushed aside several empty bottles of beer and sat down
in front of her. Not even being in the woman’s line of vision
stopped her from the sightless staring. Elle could tell that at one
time Mea Carter had been a beautiful woman but that was before
drinking and depression had taken its toll.

“She keeps doing that, saying those words,”
Mary said.

Elle looked to where she sat at the kitchen
table shoving the last of the omelet into her mouth. The girl’s
hunger was insatiable. Reaching into her pocket Elle removed her
apartment keys and dangled them in the air.

“Here Mary, I left two more omelets in the
skillet. Bring them down here and grab that instant coffee out of
the cabinet above the stove. Your mom needs to get sober.”

Mary walked over and took the keys but
instead of bolting upstairs for the proffered prospect of food, she
looked down at her mom instead. “What’s she saying?”

Elle leaned over and listened. “She ain’t got
no money, her clothes are kind of funny.” Laughing, Elle sat back.
“Oh yeah, I used to like that old song.”

“What?’

“She ain’t got no money. Her clothes are kind
of funny, and her hair is kind of wild and free.” Again Elle
laughed as she tried to recall the words. “Well, at least, I think
that’s how it goes but I do remember the chorus. It was real
catchy.” Elle started to sing the rest, “But love grows where my
Rosemary goes and nobody knows like me.”

Mary looked confused. “She’s singing a song
about me?”

“My guess is that’s where she got your name.”
Elle reached forward and took the skinny blonde by the arm and
pulled her to a sitting position. She started to slump back over
but Elle quickly propped her up with couch cushions. “Go get that
coffee Mary.”

When Mary returned Elle was standing outside
the bathroom trying not to listen as Mea heaved her guts out on the
other side of the door. Taking the coffee jar from Mary, Elle went
to the kitchen.

“Is she all right?” Mary asked.

“Yes, I believe so,” Elle told her as she put
a mug of water in the microwave. She punched the buttons and
pressed start. Three cockroaches scurried from the back and
disappeared into a mountain of dirty dishes, trash and clutter on
the countertop. “You know it wouldn’t hurt you to clean up in here.
Your mom may be sick but that doesn’t mean you can’t help her
out.”

“When I help her out it just makes her slip
further away because she’s not forced to be responsible…not even
for herself.”

“You know you talk way older than any
ten-year-old I know.” Elle took the mug from the microwave and sat
it on the counter. She spooned in two teaspoons of coffee and
glanced over at Mary. The girl was staring off like her mother but
unlike her mother, Mary’s eyes were alive with feeling. “But I
suppose you’ve been through a lot. It tends to age you.”

Mary solemnly nodded. “Should I go take my
bath now?”

“Yes, and use lots of soap.” Elle took the
black coffee to Mea. When she dropped down in front of her Elle
noticed the woman’s pale blue eyes focus on her. She had been in
the apartment for almost an hour but Elle got the distinct
impression that Mea Carter was just seeing her for the first
time.

“I’m Elle and I live upstairs. I think you
should drink this.”

Mea accepted the mug. She took a large gulp
and her face instantly twisted. “That’s really bad stuff.”

“And this stuffs not.” Elle picked up a
bottle of vodka. “This stuff could strip paint off a piece of
furniture and you’re pouring it into your gut like water.”

“What makes you my conscience? Who did you
say you were?”

“I live upstairs. I said my name’s Elle.”

“Yeah, I think I heard Mary mention you.” Mea
frowned. “You’re the book lady.”

“I use to be before I got fired. So what was
that song you were singing?”

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