Magpie (11 page)

Everet turned to face him.

Kane’s hair was a mess after all the time he’d spent in bed. His skin was pale. Most of his bruises had healed, but he was so weak he swayed with fatigue.

“I want you to get back into bed and try to get some sleep.”

“Then you’ll give me the quicksilver?” Kane asked, a frown marring his forehead.

“No.”

Kane looked down.

Everet tensed, ready to block any attempt by Kane to run for the door.

The magpie cradled the stolen cash against his chest. When he let go of Everet’s hand, he stumbled, barely able to remain on his feet.

He was so out of it, it was impossible to know what he understood about the situation, but to Everet’s relief, Kane remained outwardly calm and allowed Everet to nudge him back into the bed.

He was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

Pushing his hand through his hair, Everet took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. It was only then he had time to look over the havoc Kane had rained down over the room while he’d slept.

The floor was covered in clothes that the magpie had tossed aside as he searched the back of each drawer for cash. Either Kane had been aware enough of his actions to be incredibly quiet, or Everet had been more exhausted than he’d thought.

Very slowly, Everet’s panic subsided. His knee reminded him that he really shouldn’t have rushed around like that, but he ignored the ache in the joint as he began to clean up.

His whole body was heavy with exhaustion, but there was a part of Everet that didn’t give a damn. The man under his care had needed him and he’d looked after him. That felt good. No, in fact, it felt fantastic—better than anything Everet ever remembered experiencing in his whole life.

Within half an hour, the floor was clear. Then, there was only one job Everet needed to do before he could go back to sleep. Picking up the chair from beside the bed, Everet carried it to the bedroom door and placed it directly in front of Kane’s only exit route from the room.

Job done, he dropped heavily onto the chair and stretched his legs out toward the foot of the bed. Sleep claimed him the moment his eyelids dropped.

Chapter Five

“You look like hell.”

Everet tore his eyes away from Kane’s sleeping form. For now at least, he had stationed himself next to the bed, leaving the bedroom doorway open and unobstructed. Raynard and Ori stood on the threshold.

“That’s exactly what he said,” Everet said. He gave his best attempt at a smile and nodded toward the slumbering magpie. Then, he remembered who he addressed.

Pulling himself to his feet, Everet dipped his head politely toward both the hawk and the swan. “Sire, sir, good morning. Is there some way I can serve you?”

“Yes, you can stop fussing over the boy like a mother hen for a few seconds. I want to speak to you alone. Ori’s quite willing to sit with Kane and make sure he’s not abducted by aliens while you’re away.”

Everet glanced at Ori, before turning his attention back to Raynard. He tried to keep his expression blank, but the hawk seemed to sense his concerns. “Is he violent?” Raynard demanded.

Everet stared down at Kane—he looked so innocent when he was asleep. It was hard to believe how strong or how sneaky he could be while awake. “He’s going through withdrawal,” Everet explained. “He can be very…excitable when he wakes up.”

Raynard nodded. “We’ll talk in the adjoining room. Ori will call the moment Kane shows any sign of awaking.” He caught Ori’s eye as he said it, making damn sure his submissive heard the order and knew the matter wasn’t up for debate.

“Yes, sir.” Ori agreed. He turned to Everet. “He’ll be fine, sir. I won’t take my eyes off him.”

Everet hesitated, but it wasn’t as if he could refuse to give the swan whatever he wanted. He gazed down at Kane for a moment. His breaths were slow and even. He was fine, and Everet would only be in the next room.

“Of course, sire,” he managed to say. Through sheer force of will, Everet made himself step away from the bed and precede Raynard from the room.

The hawk closed the door firmly behind himself, putting a solid barrier between them.

“Just this once, I’m willing to agree with your charge,” Raynard said. “Anyone would think you hadn’t slept for a month.” He crossed the room and sat down on the sole armchair, leaving Everet to sink down onto one end of the sofa.

Sometimes appearances weren’t at all deceiving. Everet felt like he hadn’t slept for years. The sofa was wonderfully comfortable after the wooden chair he’d perched on day and night.

“You’re taking your duty toward Kane very seriously, aren’t you?”

Everet saw no answer to that. He managed to keep his eyes open, but talking when he didn’t have anything to say wasn’t his strongest point at the best of times, and even if he wouldn’t willingly admit it out loud, he was far from at his best.

“He won’t even remember half of what you’ve done for him, and he’ll be bloody ungrateful for whatever he can recall.”

That wasn’t the point. Even more annoying was the fact that Everet was certain Raynard bloody well knew it, too.

“If a better prospect came along, he’d be off in a flash,” the hawk said.

“He’s mine.” Everet snapped his gaze up to meet Raynard’s eyes. It didn’t matter if he knew the other goaded him on purpose. The instinct to protect what was his and see off anyone who even spoke of another man taking it away, was far too strong to deny.

“Your what?” Raynard asked. “Your servant? Your lover? Your submissive? In what way exactly is he yours?”

Everet frowned. Leaning forward, he abandoned the comfortable cushions in favor of resting his elbows on his knees. He tapped his knuckles together. His thoughts had never made it as far as those kinds of specifics.

Kane was his, and it was Everet’s job to make sure nothing happened to him. Firstly, that meant making sure he didn’t die during withdrawal, less than twenty-four hours after coming under his guardianship.

Now that Kane’s life wasn’t in danger, it had become his task to get the other man through his withdrawal. When he had cleared that hurdle, then…

“While you’ve watched over him, some of the elders have been keeping an eye on you. Concerns have been raised,” Raynard announced.

“Raised by Ori?” Everet asked. An invisible fist punched straight through his ribs and caught hold of his heart.

Raynard tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Yes.”

Everet glanced toward the bedroom door. If the swan decreed that he wasn’t a fit guardian for Kane then—

“Ravens have always had a strong bonding instinct,” Raynard said. It almost sounded as if he were talking to himself. There was no demand that Everet turn his attention toward him, but Raynard’s words still cut through every thought in Everet’s head.

“And a strong protective instinct,” Raynard went on. “You didn’t end up working security by chance, Everet. And, when Ori and I decided that there was a need for some avians to be protected from others within the nest, you were the natural choice. Ravens protect their nests, they protect those who live around them, and they protect what is theirs.”

Everet went back to staring as his knuckles. At some point, they’d turned white. “If there's a point you’re going to make, sir?” he asked.

“Don’t mistake a natural instinct toward wanting
a
submissive for a specific desire for this particular submissive.”

Very slowly, Everet looked up. “Meaning?”

Raynard didn’t even blink. There was no way in hell he’d back down. “Meaning, that the first man you take under your protection doesn’t have to be the man you spend the rest of your life with.” His tone hinted that he wanted to be kind.

“Because no magpie is worth the effort?” Everet snapped, in no mood to hear that sort of advice. The man he’d looked after for the last two weeks was worth it. Kane’s species didn’t stop him from being lost and helpless, it didn’t stop him needing someone.

“Duckling or swan, you can’t choose who you bond with,” Raynard reminded him, perfectly calmly.

Everet dropped his gaze. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, sir.”

“I won’t bother trying to give you any orders in the matter. You’d only ignore them. But, I will say this—if you insist on sitting up with him at all hours and looking after him entirely by yourself, you should use some of his time asleep to decide what it is you’ll expect of him when he returns to full health. Get it clear in your own mind that you can’t expect him to have any sort of bond with you when he recovers—he won’t even have been conscious most of the time.”

Everet nodded.

Raynard pulled himself to his feet.

For once, Everet found himself completely incapable of preventing a string of completely unnecessary words leaving his mouth. Still in his seat, he tilted back his head. “I don’t think I’m in love with him or anything like that, sir. I’m not a fool.”

“No, you’re not,” Raynard said, with a half-smile. “You’re a raven—even when it would probably be far easier for you to deal with the situation if you weren’t. It’s not only magpies that have their weaknesses.”

Everet said nothing. It was hard to talk when a ball of air had lodged in his throat and he couldn’t even breathe.

“For example, I’ve been told that a hawk’s greatest weakness is a tendency not to give a damn about anyone except those who they love, those who they own. Or those to whom they feel they owe a debt.”

Their eyes met. Everet didn’t nod in agreement. Neither Raynard nor Ori owed him anything. Even if they had, they’d repaid it a hundred times over by having faith in his ability to run the in-nest security flock.

Raynard turned away without saying anything else. He strode across to the bedroom door and opened it without bothering to knock.

“Come along, fledgling, visiting time is over.”

Raynard walked out of Everet’s apartment. With a quick smile to Everet in passing, the highest ranking avian in their nest scurried after him, more than happy to obey.

Moving his chair so it once more stood inside the closed bedroom door, Everet went back to silently watching Kane sleep.

* * * *

“Do you feel dizzy?”

Kane scowled at Everet. “I’m not a bloody invalid!”

The raven didn’t take the least bit of notice of him. He still hovered next to Kane, his arm held slightly away from his body, as if to catch Kane when he fell.

Doing his damnedest to prove he didn’t need anyone’s help, Kane managed a slow step forward, then another. Everet never moved his eyes off him. Kane might only have been thinking clearly for two days, and he might have slept through most of those forty-eight hours, but he felt as if Everet hadn’t looked away from him in months.

It was like being a bug under a microscope, or perhaps like a prisoner on death row—where there was always a guard on watch, just to make sure the poor sod didn’t deprive the hang man of his moment in the spotlight by taking matters into his own hands.

“I’m fine,” Kane said through gritted teeth. Admitting he still felt like hell wouldn’t do him any good, it would just get him sent back to bed, only ever permitted to get up for brief visits to the bathroom.

Faking feeling fine—that was his best chance of getting away from his jailer and getting something nice and shiny that he could push into his veins.

Making his way out of the bedroom, Kane forced himself to keep putting one foot forward, until he had crossed the small living room and was within sight of the door leading out of the apartment.