Raven Mask

by Winter Pennington

Greeeat.

  When you shift back, do you do so by visualization?

  I had to think about it. The first time I’d accidentally shifted, I returned by visualizing and remembering what it felt like to be human. Anytime I had tried after that, I did so intentionally using visualization as a guide.

  Yes.

  Then the problem of your nudity lies in that you are not pulling your clothes back with you.

  What do you mean?

  Are you visualizing them, or merely your human skin?

  I guess I focus on what it feels like to be human.

  Then focus on what it feels like to be human and clothed.

  It’s that easy?

  Zaphara’s head dipped forward.

  I tried to shrug and nearly succeeded in losing my balance. I’d have to avoid that particular move.

  Here goes…

  I hopped into the seat, spreading my wings, and brought images to my mind. But most important, I remembered what it felt like to be human, to feel my blood pounding through my veins, to feel the cushion of the chair beneath my ass. I brought the small sensations to mind, such as the coolness of the air-conditioned room against my skin. I let the physical feelings of the raven fall away, separating myself from her, like peeling off a cloak. I released the feeling of the seat beneath my clawed feet and imagined sitting, but this time, it was different. I had been wearing clothes, granted not much, but enough that I focused on what I had been wearing. The way the straps of the bra felt on my shoulders. The way the fabric felt between my legs, covering, shielding. I sensed the shadows rising.

  Do you think you can do that with more than undergarments?

  She was still in my head.

  I opened my human mouth and said, “Zaphara, get the fuck out of my mind.”

  “As you wish,” she said, and a sly look filled her eyes. “Your answer?”

  I ran my hands over my body, and sure enough…I’d emerged in the same undergarments I’d shifted in. I gave a sigh of relief. “Yes, I think so. That was easier than I expected it to be.”

  “Aye, ’tis not a difficult task. There are far more onerous ones.”

  “Peachy,” I said, then had to ask, “Will everyone understand me if I project my thoughts?”

  She shook her head. “A human will not comprehend. A gifted psychic might, but a human will not grasp your thoughts unless they have some magical training.”

  “What about Rosalin and Lenorre? Would they understand?”

  The door to the bedroom opened as Lenorre entered the room. “I will understand,” she said. “I take it she succeeded?” She wasn’t asking me the question, but she turned to look me up and down, confirming I was wearing clothes, kind of.

  “Yes,” Zaphara said and stood, her eyes searching my face. They no longer had their crystalline quality. “If you are capable of holding the image in your mind, you will return from one shape to the other in the attire. Yet,” she said, “if you shift nude you will not have any clothes to bring over.”

  “What if the clothes are destroyed?”

  “You may bring them back whole.”

  “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but back from where?”

  “The Other World.” She laughed at my expression. “That was not a question you were ready to have answered. You will grasp the meaning in time.”

  “That’s the thing. I’m not sure I want to grasp the meaning.”

  “You will,” Lenorre said. “It is in your blood.”

  I looked at her and sighed.

  “We will not bother going by the club first,” Lenorre explained. “We will go and hunt the strays that have trespassed in our territory. Kassandra,” she looked at me with a commanding air about her, “get dressed. We leave in a half hour.”

  I said the only thing I could. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Lenorre and Zaphara both looked at me with interest and perplexity.

  “What?” I asked, then grinned. “Oh, sorry. Aye, aye, Countess?”

  “You never cease to be a smart-ass, do you?” Zaphara asked.

  “Rarely.”

  Lenorre shot me a disbelieving look. “Very rarely.”

  I gave her a soft smile. “You know me so well.”

  Lenorre laughed. “Better than you think I do.”

  “I believe you.” She crouched to pick up my clothes and offered them to me with one hand. “Thanks.” I took them and slipped the shirt on over my head.

  I could shift into my human form without showing up naked in a room full of vampires.

  Goddess be praised.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I was driving, with Lenorre in the passenger seat next to me, and Zaphara, Rosalin, and Eris in the backseat. Rupert followed us in his sporty Cobra Mustang. An awkward feeling fluttered in my stomach. Something about our plan wasn’t right.

  I sighed. It was surprisingly quiet for a car full of five people. Okay, two werewolves, two vampires, and a faerie. Not really people at all. Maybe silence did make sense.

  “Something is wrong,” I said, watching Lenorre shift in her seat.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can sense it. Something’s wrong with our plan. It’s going to fall through.” It’s difficult to explain unease when you can’t pinpoint the reason for it. There’s no logic behind sensing something unexpected is about to happen. You merely sense it and know.

  My forearms felt naked. Usually, when I went out on a hunt I wore the wrist sheaths Rupert had given me a few years ago. Most wrist sheaths come with throwing knives, but the ones I had left at home were more like miniature daggers that covered my forearms completely. I had a moment to regret not wearing them, but I’d made a quick decision. The gun at the small of my back was a comfort, but it, like most weapons, was a human comfort, a human need. I may be a werewolf, but I’m not invincible. The pentacle scar on my chest served as a daily reminder of my weakness. I felt vulnerable, and I couldn’t figure out why.

  “You are uneasy.” Eris’s haunting voice carried from the backseat. “Why? What do you sense?”

  I shrugged, stopping at the stop sign before driving under the overpass. I made a left turn, giving the car some speed to merge onto the highway. It was Samhain and a Friday night, which meant we weren’t the only ones out and about, but I had a strong feeling we were the only ones about to go up against some fang-faced bad guy.

  “I don’t know,” I said finally. “Won’t it look strange?” I glanced over my shoulder at her gorgeous features. “The four of you standing only a few blocks away.”

  “It is Halloween,” she said. “How strange will it look?”

  “Like you’re out kidnapping kiddies. Why don’t you just wait at the club?”

  “No.” Lenorre shook her head. Her hair was still pulled back at the nape of her neck. “If we wait there it will take too long to reach you if you need us.”

  “How many vampires will spot a raven and start yelling witch?” My tone was sarcastic, but I was serious.

  “She has a point,” Zaphara said.

  “This is what we’ll do. I’ll park two blocks away from the church. You stay in the car, and when I’m done scoping out what we’re up against, we’ll either go in or make a better plan. Deal?”

  Eris laughed. “I think I know now why she is uncomfortable.”

  “Indeed.”

  “What?” They were all looking at me.

  “I get it.” I felt Rosalin’s eyes on the back of my head. “You’re freaked because you’re not in control.”

  “No, that’s not why I’m freaked. I’m not freaked, actually. I’m just…uncomfortable.”

  “Because you’re not in control.”

  “Look. You may be right, to an extent. I’m used to hunting alone. I’ve hunted with Rupert. I think I’m uncomfortable hunting with all of you. Does that make sense?”

  “Why would you be uncomfortable with us?” Zaphara asked.

  “Kassandra feels that it is her responsibility to keep everyone alive,�
� Lenorre stated a little too perceptively.

  Was that it? Was I just uneasy because I felt if something happened to any of them, it would be my fault? Once I decided it was true, I grudgingly agreed.

  Eris and Zaphara laughed.

  I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not worried about you two,” I said heatedly. “I’m sure you can hold your own.”

  The laughter didn’t exactly stop, but it lessened a bit.

  “Either way,” Eris cooed, “I’m touched.”

  “Don’t be.”

  Zaphara said, “You care about us,” in an amused tone.

  They were teasing me.

  “I think I’ll just ignore them,” I said, more to myself than anyone else in the car.

  Lenorre’s voice helped distract me. “That would probably be for the best.”

  Chapter Thirty

  I didn’t risk driving by the not-so-abandoned church. I parked two blocks away like I said I would, at a corner gas station we had passed on the way into the neighborhood. Rupert killed his headlights, slipping the dark purple Mustang in behind my Tiburon. Surprisingly, there weren’t a lot of people out. A woman with light hair cascading around her shoulders and dressed as a sexy devil walked by holding on to the shoulders of a three-foot ghost and a pirate boy only a few inches taller than the ghost. Strappy pink slippers flashed from beneath the white sheet. I turned the key, killing the engine.

  “Well?” Rosalin asked. “I just thought of something. It’ll look funny having a bird fly out of our car.”

  “No one will see me.”

  “A human might not see you,” Zaphara said. “I certainly would.”

  I unbuckled my seat belt, letting it snap back with a hiss. Reaching behind my back I took the Pro .40 and its holster off my belt and handed the gun butt first to Lenorre. The safety was on, as always, unless I was about to put a bullet in someone.

  “Hold on to this for me,” I said. “I don’t think I could manifest the gun quite yet, and I don’t want to risk losing it.” I unbuckled the belt from around my waist, sliding it through the belt loops and handing it to Lenorre after she took the gun. With nimble fingers she lifted the edge of her shirt, tucking the gun down the front of her pants. The gesture managed to flash a nice line of flesh.

  I bent over and carefully drew the gun out. “You’ve watched too many movies, and I'm not comfortable with the idea of you accidentally shooting your precious bits, vampire or no. You only shove a gun down the front of your pants in emergencies.” I started threading the belt through the first loops of her slacks. “If you have the loops,” I said, “use the holster.” Then I thought to ask, “Have you ever used a gun?”

  She took it from me, clicked off the safety, and pulled the slide back, sending a round into the chamber. “Does that answer your question, Kassandra?”

  I swallowed, forcing myself not to turn into a puddle of werewolf in her lap. There’s something undeniably sexy about a woman that knows how to handle a weapon.

  “Well enough,” I said, taking the holster and thrusting the belt through it. “Think you can draw this way?” I took the end of the belt through the last of the loops, sliding it through the buckle, then gave it a good tug to make sure it was sturdy and secure. Voilá.

  She turned the safety lock on and reached behind her back, putting the gun into the holster. The holster was canted, which took some getting used to for a quick draw. A lot of the cops I worked with didn’t wear small-of-the-back holsters. If you get knocked down by a bad guy and happen to land on your back, it’s quite painful. Most cops wear a hip holster or a shoulder holster. A lot of female cops opt for hip holsters, because breasts can get in the way of a cross draw or a draw from a shoulder holster. Fortunately, my breasts are small enough I could pull off wearing a shoulder holster without that problem.

  “You’ve made your point. Be careful your shirt doesn’t ride up over the holster, or you’ll give everyone a peek-a-boo and scare all the humans.”

  “You’re stalling,” Rosalin said, with an edge of shock to her tone.

  I flicked my gaze to her as she leaned forward in her seat. “What?”

  “You’re stalling.”

  I smiled and knew it wasn’t a happy smile. “A little bit.”

  “Why? This is what you do for a living, isn’t it?”

  “Ros, every time a person goes into something like this they never come out the same. You always remember.”

  “I’m going with you, then,” she said with an edge of stubbornness to her tone I didn’t hear very often.

  “No, you’re not,” I replied just as determinedly. “You’re going to stay here in the car with the others.”

  “But you don’t want to do this, and I can’t bear to watch you have to do it alone. Lenorre?” she said pleadingly, as if asking her for help.

  “No,” I said again, more firmly, “I am doing this alone. You’re more than welcome to come in once I’ve checked out what we’re walking into. Until then, you get to keep your furry ass in that seat and wait.”

  Her honey eyes widened in a puppy-dog look. I shook my head. “Rosalin, no. I’ll be fine.” I tried to reassure her, even if my words turned out to be a lie. “I have more experience doing this than you do.” I began removing the overshirt. I could do this. Zaphara had shown me how to do this. I could shift fully clothed. All it took was visualization and being confident in my abilities. I drew in a deep breath, willing my mind to concentrate.

  “I am going in with you.”

  It was Zaphara’s voice this time, which caught me off guard. I hadn't expected that.

  “Absolutely no—”

  “Do not think to tell me no, little one. Your voice may override Rosalin’s, but never mine.”

  I closed my eyes. I would not get pissed. I would not get pissed. I would not…

  “Lenorre,” I said through clenched teeth, “we’re wasting moonlight.”

  “I do not dictate Zaphara’s every move,” she said. “If she wishes to go with you then I cannot oversay her wishes. Though I must admit I do not think it is a bad idea.”

  “Fine, but whatever you do, don’t get us killed.”

  “It is not us I shall be killing.” The threat in her words made goose bumps break out over my arms.

  I opened the car door and stepped out, shutting it on Zaphara. She could open the damn door herself. I was pissed. I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t afraid Zaphara would get me killed. In truth, if something happened to her I would feel somewhat responsible. I may not have liked her, but I didn't dislike her enough to ask her to take a bullet. Or whatever else might be waiting for us.

  The church was two blocks away. I headed for it at a quick stroll, slinking into the shadows along the edge of the sidewalk, disguising myself. I’d had a knack for going unnoticed whenever I wanted to as a child. I used that talent now, moving silently and sticking to the shadows.

  The sidewalk circled around the blocks. Hedges decorated the edge of the backyards. Other than the lampposts on every corner, the neighborhood was dimly lit.

  A rustling noise in the bushes made me pause for a moment. Where was Zaphara? I hadn’t heard her approaching. Had she decided to remain in the car after all? The bushes rustled again, and my heart pounded. Being on guard often meant being paranoid, but it was better than getting killed. I turned slowly, jumping when a streak of black bolted out of the bush. It moved so swiftly, as if its paws weren’t even touching the pavement. The cat stopped under the orange wash of the next street lamp, drawing back its ears.

  “Zaphara?”

  Keep your mouth closed, wolf. We do not have all night, remember?

  Guess so.

  Shift here, she said, her fluffy tail flicking as she darted behind a small circle of trees on the side of someone’s lawn. It was dark enough to provide cover. I crossed the street and did what she said without arguing.

  As I’d done earlier, I let go of my human body and brought the raven into mind, touching the brim of heated air and pulling i
t around my body like a cloak. I was getting better control and shifted quicker than any of the other times. The magic swam around me, like an invisible cloud. I was drowning in mist without feeling, then suddenly it was gone.

  The black cat loomed in my vision. The fear hit me. My heart gave one huge pound and I flew into the tree overhead, breathing a little too fast.

  Kassandra! Zaphara’s voice vibrated against my skull. Control your magic! Do not let it control you!

  Magic. That was right. I breathed, allowing my chest to puff up before releasing the breath. The cat was just Zaphara, I reminded myself, nothing to be afraid of, nothing to pick a fight with.

  You did that on purpose, I said.

  Zaphara gave an evil little chuckle that sounded utterly wrong coming from a feline.

  I opened my wings, arching my body, following an invisible current as I dived-bombed her. The cat yowled, flattening itself to the ground as my beak barely missed the top of its furry black head.

  Karma. I projected the thought to her.

  I cupped the air beneath my wings, pushed it down, and soared. Zaphara’s irritated voice followed me.

  Kassandra!

  Next time you think to try and get one up on me, I said, you should remember I'm damn good at revenge.

  Zaphara gave an irritated hiss below me, darting across the street as she followed my flight.

  I caught the steeple between my feet and held on. Truthfully, I was afraid of heights. If I thought about it I almost went into a panic, but I was learning to ignore it. Then again, I still wasn’t flying that high, which helped. Zaphara’s slinky form darted across the steps leading onto the porch.

  How will we get inside?

  I pushed off the steeple, bouncing across the scratchy rooftop, and peeked over the edge.

  I haven’t thought that far.

  You should, said the cat, sitting back on its hind legs, as I find it highly unlikely that they have a pet door.

  Check around back. I dove off the roof, trying not to panic as my stomach dropped. Zaphara gave another flick of her tail before slinking into the bushes that surrounded the building. The only windows were made of stained glass. Being more for art than functionality, they were fixed. The only way to get through them would be by breaking them. Though fragile, the noise factor wouldn’t work. I have an idea.