A Conspiracy of Ravens: A Raven Saga Book 1

by Crymsyn R. Hart

  He listened a little more as the soprano vocalized a few more chords about going over the rainbow. Over the rainbow my ass. I'll show you what's over the rainbow.

  His dark eyes scanned the night. Two more nights and the moon grew to full in the fabric of the sky. There was nothing for him to do except wait. Maili was as safe as a church mouse. Better yet, a bat. Nothing was going to happen to Maili. She could take care of herself. If there were any danger, she could open her mouth and hit a note to shatter a man's testicles. He would sense her distress and come to the rescue.

  Fuck this. I'm winging out of here. Let little Miss Priss and her pet human have their fun tonight. Once dawn breaks, I'll check back. Besides, the night was cool. The currents were flowing. Both had him hypnotized, calling to his soul.

  Anyone who wondered why a large raven sat on a No Parking sign paid it no mind. Some thought it was a little odd. Then again, odd things happened all the time in the city. Some mortals knew there were things which went bump in the night. There were monsters lurking in the shadows. Just the other day, Tremain had sworn he sensed a vampire presence in the city. He wasn't sure though and dismissed it. However, he had perceived a strange signature to the vampire. No matter. He shook it off, stretched his wings, and took a little dive. His wings flared. The rush of air tickled his feathers. Within a heartbeat's pace, he pumped his wings, and he was airborne. The feeling was exhilarating. Pure freedom. It gave him hope. It kept him sane. Letting his mind ease, he knew he could get lost and follow the road of the stars.

  Chapter Four

  Staring at the small pads inside the keys, Linnea pulled apart the three sections of her flute. A couple of them were going to have to be replaced since they were coming unglued. She cringed at how much it would cost. Honestly, she needed a completely new instrument. She had wanted one for the past year. She was just unwilling to get a new one since the one she played had been given to her by her grandmother as a graduation present from high school. It would be a worthy instrument if she were taking lessons, but since she was playing more professional engagements, she needed something to reflect her status. The intermediate flute was not cutting it these days. She needed to drop a couple thousand to get a decent instrument, but her heart didn't want to part with the one she had because each time she played, she thought of the woman who raised her.

  Linnea's parents had been killed in a wreck while traveling up I-495 to pick her up from her grandmother's. They had been going the speed limit when an eighteen-wheeler slammed on his breaks because a truck carrying chickens had tipped over on the side of the road sending feathers floating like snowflakes. The driver had swerved to avoid the feathered storm, but he jackknifed, hitting her parents’ car. She shivered. She had been eating blueberry pancakes for dinner since they were her favorite. The doorbell had rung and she had raced to get it, disappointed it wasn't her mother and father. The police were at the door. After they came in and told her grandmother the news, she had been forced to go to the hospital. Once there, she had learned the difference between life and death. To this day, she hated hospitals and the sterile, clean smell of chemicals. Of death and decay. Being so cold. Of thinking she could never get warm again. Even now as she thought about it, the cold of death was still with her. Worst of all, she hated blueberries. Since that day, she had never eaten another blueberry and had an aversion to any kind of blue food, including blackberries. They were actually purple, but reminded her too much of those fateful pancakes.

  The flautist shivered as she placed her instrument in its black velvet lined case. Nestled inside the velvet in the upper righthand corner was a miniature flute, a pin her grandmother had given her the day she went away to college. Her grandmother had been so proud of her. Linnea had stayed in the dorm the first two years of college and then had moved back home to take care of her grandmother when she had a stroke. Her guardian recovered quicker than anyone thought, so she was able to continue school without taking a semester off. She had continued her flute lessons with a flautist in the Boston Symphony. During Linnea's senior year, she had gotten an internship as an orchestra production assistant at the Wang. This was a great opportunity for her since the Wang was the place all the Broadway plays and musicals were performed. After a couple of months, one of their flute players quit. She tried out and was given the job. For the past four years, she had been happy.

  Just last year, Linnea had sat with her grandmother in the downstairs bedroom. It was there she had breathed her last words. The Old Cronies had been in the other room waiting for the High Priestess to pass on into the other world. They had not been surprised. After the funeral, they had come up to her offering their condolences, telling her they were there if needed. When the time was right, she would fill her grandmother's shoes and lead the coven into the next century.

  Linnea didn't know about that. She smiled as she thought about her grandmother's coven sisters. They had helped raise her just as much as her grandmother had. They had taught her all the old lore and stuffed her brain as well as her belly so full of recipes she was bursting at the seams, but she had become one hell of a cook. They all believed she was destined for greatness and one day her magick would spark.

  I wish today was that day, she thought as she snapped the lid shut on her flute case and gazed around the empty theater. She shivered as she saw a shadow move in the upper balcony. It was the only part of the theater closed off to the public. It was said a trio of ghosts sat up there watching every performance. The red velvet seats they sat in were always down instead of up like the rest of the chairs. She had never been able to tell if there were truly ghosts there or not. She was not inclined to sense them. Her grandmother had been the one in the family who could talk to the dead, but never allowed her to use a Ouija board since her grandmother said it summoned bad entities. Linnea would not have anything dark inhabiting her house. No matter. Whether the theater was haunted or not, Boston itself was steeped in ghost stories. Its streets had been trodden for centuries. It was one of the oldest places in the United States, and she was glad to call it her home just as she was glad to have Maili for a best friend.

  Linnea was worried. It was unlike Maili to be so unsure of herself like she had been before the show. And frightened. Her friend was never scared. Maili always bristled with self-confidence and oozed sex appeal, enough that every man wanted to get her into bed. I can only wish the same were true with me. I'm a church mouse compared to her. None of the guys I've met lately want anything to do with me. I'm getting tired of all the same crap. “It's not you. It's me. You're a really great girl and all, but I think we should just be friends.” Doesn't anyone see me for me? Okay, so I'm not the prettiest chick on the block, but a girl needs a little loving once and a while.

  Linnea moved out from the orchestra pit. The cast members laughed in the wings of the theater, congratulating themselves for a job well done. They would party until the wee hours, wake up with horrible hangovers, and drag themselves out of bed just in time to do it all over again the next night. She had seen the play of their lives enacted nightly no matter who took what part. Shaking her head, she moved backstage looking to see if Maili was around. She wanted to pick up their conversation from the point of Joshua's interruption.

  "There you are!"

  Linnea turned around. Speaking of the conductor, he was in front of her. Her mouth went dry. Her heart escaped her chest into her throat. Sweat coated her palms. She tried to keep a straight face. This was it. She was going to lose her job. She knew it. “H-Hi, Joshua. Great night. Sell-out crowd, I hear."

  The conductor grabbed her arms and pushed her back against the brick wall of the theater. She swallowed again. She felt like her heart sat on the back of her tongue. It beat unevenly, a rhythm of its own like the fluttering of a hummingbird's wings, as her breaths came. She was getting lightheaded. Her mouth was even drier, if that were possible. Her fingers clutched the thick plastic handle of her flute case as she stared into the dull blue eyes of her boss. His breath sm
elled like bad fish. Too much aftershave drowned her nose causing her to gag. His blond hair was thinning on top and there were crinkles around his eyes, making him look older than his thirty-five years. He moved one hand by her head and the other he rested lightly on her shoulder. The heat of his hand seared her skin through the thin material of her white silk blouse.

  "Linnea, look. I like you. You're a great player, but if you keep showing up late, there won't be much I can do about it. Unless—"

  "I know, Joshua. I'm sorry. I swear it won't happen again. I left early. The train was late. I stubbed my toe. I'm not sure if it's broken or not. Please don't fire me. I need this job. It—"

  He waved his hand like he was shushing the clarinet section. He drew himself closer to Linnea. The buttons of his shirt touched hers. The little lines in his lips stood out. They were chapped and the skin peeling away. “Unless we can make other arrangements.” Joshua smiled, brushing his knuckles along the side of her jaw line. A shiver of disgust wove through her.

  Linnea's eyes grew wide when she realized what he offered. Alarm and horror filled her. She opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off, but instead he pressed his lips to hers in a tongue-filled kiss. His free hand ran over the smooth fabric of her shirt, cupping her breast. Something sparked inside of her she had not known was there. After the initial shock left her, she brought up her knee and rammed it into his balls. A surge of confidence filled her along with a tingle of power. It tickled up her spine and made the hair on the back of her neck salute.

  Weird. The strangest thing was her boss coming onto her. She had never made any advances on him. Granted she had heard the others talk about how he had tried to get into the other instrumentalists’ pants, but she had thought it was a rumor. Guess that was not the case anymore. Well he could toot his own horn from now on.

  Joshua doubled over and grabbed his groin. His face was red and his eyes watered. He scanned the backstage area to see if anyone had seen him humiliated. Linnea hoped someone had. Wait until I tell Maili. She's always telling me to stand up for myself. Well, I just did. Go me.

  "You—will—pay—for—this—Lin!” Joshua wheezed as his eyes still watered from the painful event.

  Linnea felt her eyes narrow. Whatever had ignited inside of her was growing strongergiving her a sense of confidence she never knew was inside her. There was also something else. She jabbed her finger into his chest. “I don't think so, Josh. If you even try to fire me, I'll go to the union and have your ass."

  "You wouldn't dare!"

  The flautist poked her finger against him once again, and she watched a blue spark go between him and her. She jumped a little, but realized she hadn't been shocked. Something had awoken inside of her. Linnea wondered if it was because she had felt threatened.

  Whatever it was, the more she thought about it, she felt it strengthening inside of her. Maybe this was what the Cronies are talking about. Maybe this is the start of magick. Don't want to get my hopes us just yet. What am I doing? I have never stood up to Joshua like this. Then again, I'm not going to let him walk all over me either.

  "Try me! I'm tired of being pushed around by the likes of you. We're through here."

  She didn't bother to see his response. Instead, she checked her watch and saw it was nearing one o'clock. Linnea had to meet Maili at her apartment to see what it was she wanted to talk about. She got outside and walked up Tremont Street so she could catch the Green Line. From there, she would have to hop on the Red Line and take that out to Harvard Square where Maili lived near Harvard University. Knowing her friend, she would have to spend the night since the T stopped running at two in the morning. It didn't matter. She had done it before. Linnea trusted her best friend with her life. However, as she descended the numerous steps underground to catch the subway, she realized she had left her bag back at the theater. In it was her T pass and all her cash. Groaning, she had to hoof it back up the stairs, hobbling along slowly as her toe still throbbed from before. Each step was agonizing.

  By the time she reached the back entrance, Derrik was just coming out.

  "Derrik. Wait!"

  The director looked up. His dark eyes studied her as she hopped down the alley toward him, waving her flute and her hands.

  "Lin, did you forget something?"

  She nodded. Out of breath, she stared at the director who was all dressed in black. “Need bag. Left it in the pit."

  Derrik smiled. His teeth were ivory white against his dark skin. “Sure. I'll wait for you. Go right ahead."

  Linnea darted into the pit and saw her bag on the floor behind her chair. Breathing a sigh of relief, she sat down for a moment. As she did, she heard tinkling laughter in the wings of the theater. It sounded like her friend might be entertaining Jason in the back. Following the sound, it led her back to Maili's dressing room. The light was still on.

  "Ali, you in here?” She head laughter again. Linnea knocked then poked her head in. “Derrik is closing up.” A flash of anger scorched her mind. Maili was going to make her go all the way out to her place only to make her wait while she was fucking Jason. Sometimes it felt like her best friend walked all over their friendship. A small lamp left on the dressing table lit the room. Maili was not there. The room was vacant so no one could have laughed. Maybe she was hearing things. Gazing around the room, she saw that it was in shambles. Pushing the door open, Linnea saw the entire place had been ransacked. Maili would never leave the dressing room like this. The costume rack was pushed over. Someone shredded the Dorothy outfit. Makeup was strewn all over the floor. The mirror was cracked like someone had put their hand through it. The dressing table contents were knocked about. Maybe someone didn't like the fact that Maili killed the witch night after night.

  "What the hell happened in here?” Linnea jumped and spun around. Derrik stood behind her. “Did you see who did this?"

  The flautist shook her head no. “I thought I heard someone laughing. I came in to see if Ali was here. This was what I found."

  "Are you okay?"

  She nodded.

  "Good. I'm going to call the cops. Sit tight and don't touch anything."

  Derrik left the dressing room, and Linnea flopped down on the couch across from it. This was all she needed tonight. Maili would be pissed once she found out someone vandalized her dressing room. Clutching her flute case in her arms, Linnea let her eyes close and her head fall back against the yards of cloth resting on the top of the couch. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep, hearing nothing until the cops woke her up, and forgetting about the tinkling laughter she had heard in the first place.

  Chapter Five

  Tremain flew the night away and late into the afternoon. Only a few more hours and he would drop his feathered prison and return to being a man. He never got tired of flying. It was the only thing that gave him peace, as meditation did Caleb and martial arts did Jet had. The feel of the air against his face and the look of the world beneath him as all of his cares fell away and he was left with the open expanse of the air. Only landing here and there to rest his wings, he would settle for a little while nestled away in a tree studying the stars or the sunrise. He would travel far into the woods, into undisturbed places man had forgotten between the mists, learning more now than he had done when he was a human Druid. In some ways, his curse had opened his eyes to the magick of the world. He saw things differently then when he was a human. He had taken so many things for granted. How the dawn caressed flesh instead of feathers. How the air felt more alive on his skin than muffled as it did on his wings. Yet, even within his raven prison, he had come to understand the patterns of the universe. Everything was one. It flowed together. Where the human road ended, the unseen one began. What mortals did not see or only thought to be myths were hiding in the shadows and blending in with everyday humanity. In his years as a Raven Warrior, he had seen angels, demons, vampires, werewolves, even a few ancient dinosaurs swimming in the deepest lochs and largest lakes. There were even beings he had encountered f
or which humans had no names.

  Now as the sun was setting, he alighted on to the balcony rail outside of Maili's bedroom. Peering inside, what he saw shot horror through him. Her room had been ransacked. He hopped down to the wrought iron balcony to get a better look through the glass. Her bookcase was toppled over onto the floor. Clothes were half in and half out of her closet. Her bed was in tatters. Every picture she had on the wall had been tossed aside. Posters had been destroyed and left hanging in shreds by their thumbtacks. Someone was searching for something. Hopefully they did not find it.

  Shit. He mentally kicked himself. I should never have let her out of my sight. Hopefully she's at her pet human's house. At least then she'll be safe. Caleb's going to kill me. Fuck that. Betha's going to skin me. He shivered as he remembered Caleb's warning saying there was an even greater hell than the one he survived. He did not want to end up a Raven for all time with barely a memory of being human. He hopped over and squeezed himself through the bars on the balcony to glide the air currents over to Linnea's. When he got there, he saw she was not home. Tremain perched on a telephone pole in front of her door so he could watch for her. After sitting for an hour, his patience dwindled. He knew they weren't at the theater. It was too early.

  Tremain clicked his beak together in frustration. Hopefully Betha had not realized anything was amiss with her daughter. The two of them were connected by a mystical bond which went beyond normal mother and daughter empathy. To watch out and protect her if need be was his sole mission. Even though he could not do that much protecting when he was in Raven form, he could summon help from the Sidhe court, Betha's soldiers and bodyguards to make sure whatever was amiss could be righted. Now he was screwed. The druid had sensed something the other night and alerted no one. He had written it off as something in the night. He had assumed it was human related and had nothing to do with him. If he had not been so hung up on letting his mind wander back to the past, nothing would have happened to Maili.