Maybe one day she’d look back at this bizarre encounter and freak out, as a delayed but appropriate reaction. At the time thoughts about how to help the raven, even if it gave her attitude, wrapped up Brenna's thoughts.
The injured bird glared at her.
The same outspoken raven from the periphery cawed again.
When she’d first ventured into the forest the day before, she’d soon concluded it was strange and magical. Having already deduced the forest was set aside from the rest of reality, Brenna didn’t find the raven’s behavior startling and strange. As it was, she didn’t give it much thought. From first arriving at Beaumont, she sensed something different and wondered if it were just the fresh air and closeness of the natural world.
“I’m going to pick you up,” Brenna warned, setting her hand a little more firmly. The raven didn’t move, but watched Brenna with a wary eye. “Ready?”
Brenna slipped her other hand underneath to lift it up. It was surprisingly heavy, about as much as a Chihuahua. The broken wing hung limp, and the bird didn’t struggle.
The others ruffled their feathers and paced. Brenna cast them a glance, observing the way they circled her. None of them approached, almost as if an invisible wall held them off. Brenna didn’t doubt that if they descended on her all at once in such a great number, and equipped with their talons and beaks, they could overpower her.
Cradling the raven against her chest, she stood and walked in the direction she’d come from.
The congress of ravens parted for her, then followed. All of them kept a respectful distance. Sometimes they hopped, sometimes they flew in short bursts. Every one of them followed. Some stuck to the ground while others abandoned the forest floor to hop from tree branch to tree branch. She tried not to pay too much attention to this strange behavior.
The longer the birds stayed with her, the more convinced Brenna became that they were going to attack. If they did, they’d rip her to shreds.
The injured raven did not struggle. Its feathers were soft, and when they passed through sections of light, Brenna saw iridescent blues and greens amongst the black. It was gorgeous. Brenna wished her own black hair would reflect light like that.
They passed familiar trees and boulders as Brenna retraced her route precisely.
Now and then, one of the ravens would caw with concern.
Reluctantly, Brenna led her entourage all the way to the edge of the forest.
A raven from the group hopped into Brenna’s way when she was just yards from the house where she was staying, causing her to come to an abrupt halt.
The raven was a little bigger than the others. Its puffed up feathers made it appear more intimidating, and its wings lifted but not fully expanded to drive home the illusion. It squawked and cawed and fluttered its wings without extending them.
Brenna said nothing.
What was the raven trying to do? Stop her? Warn her?
All of the others had come to a stop behind her. Their eyes bored through Brenna’s back as if they were looking straight through her into her soul.
It was unnerving.
“Okay,” Brenna said after a long silence. “I know you’re upset, but I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. I need to take your friend to get help. I promise I’m going to bring it back.”
The raven in front of her clawed at the ground with its feet.
Already apprehensive, Brenna's fears grew.
“The bird has a broken wing.” An explanation was in vain, but it made her feel better. She hoped her voice would calm the tense situation. “If you don’t let me take it to get it fixed, and let me keep this bird until it can fly again, then it will die. There are creatures in the woods that would love to eat it. Bears? Coyotes? I don’t know what lives out there, but I can promise you, if it doesn’t die of starvation, something will eat it. I don’t want that.”
The raven stopped clawing at the ground. Its wings settled back against its sides, but it still looked at Brenna with distrustful eyes.
“I know I’m a stranger, and people can be cruel and destructive, but I promise I only want what’s best for your friend. I couldn’t walk on by and let him die. Do you understand that, at least? If you’re this bird's friend, then we’re on the same team. I can get him the help he needs to live.”
Brenna didn’t think a town as small as Beaumont would be home to an exotic veterinary clinic, but she might find one in Riverside. If there wasn’t anything closer than four hours away, she’d bite the bullet and make the trip. She was already crazy enough to talk to ravens. Why not add a four-hour trip to save a wild animal’s life onto her insanity?
The raven in front of her made a strange noise in its throat. The bird strolled forward, snagged Brenna’s pant leg in its beak, and tugged.
“Hey!” Brenna squatted down to brush the creature away, but when she did, the raven hopped up to perch on her arm and clamped down on a lock of her hair. Before she could act, the bird tugged.
Brenna yelped as the raven tore out her hair.
This was the end, wasn’t it? Her fate, to die fifty feet from the house? Dr. Kilpatrick would come back from vacation to find a picked-over corpse in the backyard.
Perfect. Just perfect.
But the raven didn’t resume its attack. With Brenna’s hairs clutched in its beak, it hopped off Brenna’s arm and joined the others behind Brenna.
All of them stared at her, unblinking.
“Well.” Exasperated, but relieved she hadn’t been pecked to death, she said, “I think it’s time I go. Thanks for not killing me. I think.”
The ravens watched.
A chill ran down Brenna’s spine. Clutching the injured raven to her chest, she stepped out from the trees and made her way across Dr. Kilpatrick’s lawn. She couldn’t fit her key in the lock fast enough.
She didn't easily scare, but there was something odd about those ravens that she couldn’t explain. Their behavior wasn’t normal, and Brenna doubted she’d ever see something like that again.
She got the door open and brought the raven inside, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She wondered where to place the bird. On the floor? On a towel perhaps?
“Well, we’re home,” she said to the injured raven, attempting to distract herself from the thought she'd just had a narrow escape. “I will do a quick search to look up bird vets, and then we will get going again. Until then, do you want to make yourself comfortable?”
The raven cawed. It flapped its wings—both of them.
Brenna, startled, dropped it. A moot point, because the raven flew.
“W-what the hell?” Brenna blinked rapidly, unable to believe what she saw.
The raven with the broken wing flew as if it were never injured. It flew to sit on top of the door, where it craned its neck to look down as Brenna looked up. The wing, once broken and mangled, lay smooth against its side. The bird clicked its beak a few times.
“Your w-wing. It was broken.”
The raven turned its head to the other side.
“I’m sure it was broken. You weren’t moving, and they were all squawking, and…” Brenna trailed off. Now that she was back home, talking to a bird seemed insane. The raven couldn’t understand a word of English. Who did Brenna think she was—Edgar Allan Poe or Dr. Dolittle?
She shook her head. “Just…you can go. I’m not going to hold you captive.”
She’d left the back door open when they entered and hadn’t shut it yet. The bird could fly right out, so Brenna stepped well clear of the creature's means of escape.
Perched atop the door, the raven had clear sight of the outdoors.
Brenna waved her arms toward the door. “Go!”
The raven didn’t move.
Brenna sighed. She’d been bracing for a crazy afternoon, but not this kind of crazy. What was she going to do if it didn’t want to leave? She couldn’t strong-arm the bird out. The talons that gripped the door were wickedly sharp, and the bird could fly, apparently, thereby avoiding he
r grasp.
Fear might be keeping the bird from leaving. That might be it. Ravens were smart. If those other ravens were enemies, maybe this one had been waiting for safety before making a move.
“Okay. I’m going to go into the other room. While I’m gone, you can show yourself out the door. I’ll come back in a few minutes to close it, okay? Then neither of us has to think about this again.”
The raven kept watching her.
It watched her a little too intently. It was strange. Brenna backed away from the door to make sure the raven didn’t dive-bomb her, then she headed for the living room.
Wiping the sweat from her brow, she thought about getting the air conditioning running or facing a long hot summer. Dr. Kilpatrick had told her about the standalone air con units stored in the basement, and Brenna was determined to get at least two set up as soon as possible. However, it was already her second day, and she still hadn't made it to the basement to investigate.
When she settled on the couch, the raven walked into the room, boldly approaching her.
“For the love of…” Brenna sat transfixed. She couldn’t believe the fearless way the bird strolled in, unafraid, as if it had every right to be there. “Why aren’t you going? I left the door open. You had a clear escape.”
The glass door leading to the patio was a short distance away. Brenna looked through it to check for the other ravens but saw none. Maybe this raven was a little slow. Maybe it needed to see the forest in order to remember where it belonged.
Brenna opened the sliding glass door. “There you go. There’s the forest. Go home now.”
The raven hopped up on the couch, its talons digging into the upholstery. Brenna’s mouth fell open. Her job was to look after the house for the absent owner, not bring in wildlife to damage the furniture. If the upholstery tore, she’d be in for an unexpected expense. With a flutter of its wings, the raven moved up onto the arm of the couch.
Was it mocking Brenna?
“I… well.” Brenna closed the glass door. She approached the raven slowly, hoping the bird would let her pick it up again.
Instead, the raven clicked its beak and fluttered to the floor. It strolled away.
This has to be one of the strangest days of my life.
The raven exited the living room to head god knew where else.
“Well, when you’re ready to leave, let me know. Peck at the door or something. Just…don’t make me call animal services.”
The raven laughed from the hall.
There was no mistaking the sound even though Brenna had never heard a bird laugh before. Frowning, she settled back on the couch and silenced her troubled thoughts with a book. An old copy of the Harper Lee classic paperback was the closest book within reach, lying on the table beside the couch, where Brenna had left it the night before. The irony of the title wasn’t lost. No need to go and fetch her Kindle from her backpack and meet her mocking bird again.
When she finally went to check on the raven, after reading for a while, the door still stood open, and she could not find the raven in the house.
CHAPTER TWO
Black silk bedsheets covered a mattress so soft that she sank into it as if it were an oversized pillow. She blinked open her eyes and stretched out. Thousands of flickering flames from candles danced in unison, lighting up the room.
A familiar smell hung in the air, almost like rain. She recognized this same scent from something in the forest—what exactly, though, she couldn't say.
Brenna sat up, supporting herself on her elbows.
The sheets slid across her bare thighs as she shifted position and realized she was naked.
Even though it felt so real, Brenna knew she was asleep and dreaming.
She remembered going to bed in the stifling hot guest room, underneath a central overhead light and surrounded by huge old wooden furniture. Not a candle in sight. Wearing her cotton pajamas, she’d made the bed up with white sheets. It was so hot that she’d only put on one cotton sheet to go over her. She doubted she’d find black silk or satin anywhere in Dr. Kilpatrick’s house.
Brenna must have fallen asleep while reading a book, as was her normal way of dozing off. The eReader, still lying on the bed beside her, had switched to sleep mode when she didn’t ‘turn’ the page.
Sensing eyes on her, Brenna glanced around, her eyes adjusting to the warm flickering light. “Hello?” she called out before actually seeing the man who stood in the shadows at the edge of the room.
Dressed from head to toe in smart black clothes, the stranger had slicked-back black hair, too. The man stood in front of a dark background, which was probably why Brenna didn’t notice him right away.
She saw him now.
Except, she realized that the stranger wasn’t standing, and also wasn’t in the room. Not exactly. In the doorway, he leaned at an angle, a shoulder against the door frame propping him up. There wasn’t a door, as far as Brenna could see, just an opening to something beyond, which lay in darkness.
The tall man cut a striking figure. He was older than Brenna by a few years—likely in his late twenties. His handsome face was classically good looking with strong chiseled features.
“Hello,” he said, taking a step forward into the light. His black hair shone a sleek, iridescent blue. It struck Brenna as familiar, but she couldn’t place from where.
Unafraid, aware it was a dream, Brenna kept the sheets modestly covering her. She wasn’t ashamed of her body or her looks, but even when asleep, she wasn’t an exhibitionist. Well, she only occasionally had those fantasies.
The stranger took another step forward, his gait a confident swagger. As he drew nearer, his fingers worked at the black buttons of his shirt. Enticing black chest hair appearing at the top of the shirt, which fell open.
Brenna gulped. “Who are you?”
Without answering, the stranger didn’t stop moving.
Reaching the foot of the bed, he paused to kick off his shoes and shook the open shirt free of his slim athletic frame.
Mouth watering, Brenna took in the sight of muscular arms and a torso covered in fine, velvety black hairs. She longed to run her fingers over the hairy chest but didn’t move.
The sure-of-himself stranger ran a pointing finger from his navel down the length of the thick black treasure trail until he reached the top of his pants. He made short work of unfastening the belt and removing it from the loops before dropping it out of sight.
When the belt snapped free of the loops, the pants dropped a little, clinging to his hips and emphasizing the bulge of his crotch. The bulge seemed to be all that held them up.
When he dropped the belt, the dreamy stranger used a free hand to cup his prominent package, dragging fingers up either side to emphasize its size and shape, and to draw attention to his erection. He didn’t need to, though. It had Brenna’s attention.
With unfathomable skill and dexterity, the man ran his fingers around the silhouette of his cock under the black fabric and undid his fly at the same time. He moved his hips in a small circular motion, and the pants glided down, over his thighs.
No underwear.
It took quite some balls for a guy to perform a private striptease in this way.
Enjoying every moment of the show, Brenna licked her lips, subconsciously attempting to summon moisture back into her dry mouth. All thoughts focused on the now-naked man at the foot of the bed.
On the bed.
Naked and crawling on hands and knees, up the bed.
Over her.
Overconfident, brazen, and not stopping to check that Brenna was happy with all this.
She was most definitely happy. It was her dream after all. And he was the man of her dreams.
Brenna drew in a breath but didn’t back up. Her gaze worked up and down the man's body. She stayed still as the presumptuous stranger crossed the bed, over her legs—still covered by the sheet.
The stranger smirked as they grew close.
His eyes were dark with lust.
His breathing heavy. His nipples were hard. And his cock was porn-star magnificent, long and thick. It would be. This was a dream. Vivid, yeah, sure. Brenna was sure she was dreaming, nevertheless.
Face to face, the sharp, aristocratic point of the stranger’s nose brushed against Brenna’s.
Brenna’s heart hammered in her chest. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. The touch, as slight as it was, felt electric. The air sparked with sudden, impossible chemistry.
“Hello,” the stranger said again before stealing a kiss.
Closing her eyes, Brenna gasped into the stranger’s mouth. After a brief of hesitation, she kissed the stranger back. Arousal surged through her and bound her to the moment.
Nothing else had ever been so important, so captivating.
They sank onto the bed together. The stranger pressed down, with only a slither of black silk to separate their naked bodies. Sheer, smooth silk was protecting Brenna from a stranger.
In the haze of her dreams, Brenna didn’t think she needed protecting. She rarely had erotic dreams and never so vivid. She didn’t intend to fight it.
Bring it on, dream guy.
She ran her palms down the stranger’s sides to feel the bare, warm skin.
The stranger’s lips were soft, but not afraid to take control. He kissed Brenna as she’d never been kissed before, guiding her pleasure and deepening their passion.
It felt so wonderful.
If this was just a dream, it didn’t have to make sense.
In real life, Brenna had never fallen into bed with a nameless stranger. She’d never so much as had a one-night stand. At the least, she’d shared a successful two date or three dates with every man she’d slept with. She’d only had sex with men when there was a real possibility of a permanent relationship. It was how she’d been raised and what she wanted.
None of her relationships had lasted, which was why, at twenty-two years of age, she was single and alone in Beaumont.
She’d always guarded her affections and her body. If she met more men like this one, she’d reconsider her stance. It was just a dream, right? She could indulge if she wanted to.
Guys had come and gone, and she’d never lusted after a single one of them as she lusted after this one.
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