Miranda looked up to the mountainside house above. “I don’t want Bren involved in this.”
“Too bad.”
She gathered the courage she could and looked Jared in the eye. How had she misjudged him so badly? Why had her instincts failed her? And then she saw it. He wasn’t evil; he wasn’t good. He was nothing. His eyes were empty, and so was his soul.
“I’m going to die, I accept that,” she said. “If I jump they’ll think it’s suicide and Bren won’t be a suspect.”
Jared’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “You’d kill yourself to keep Korbinian out of trouble?”
“I love him,” she said softly and honestly.
“Okay, whatever.” Jared motioned with the gun. “We’ll do this your way. But I’m not going to stand here all night waiting for you to get up the nerve. Jump or I’ll drag you inside the cabin and put a bullet in your head. Your choice.”
He didn’t put the weapon aside, not even as Miranda hefted herself up to sit on the wooden railing. She looked down and her stomach roiled. It was a long drop to the rocky ground below, she knew that, but in the darkness she could see nothing. Clouds obscured the moon, and the shadows below were deep. Her head swam.
She turned her face up so her eyes were trained on Bren’s dark house, and she silently called to him.
If you’re right and I’m nothing to you, if you only saved me at Quinn’s farm because you were there and I was in trouble and it was convenient to do so, then I’ll likely die now. But if I’m right and I’m yours to the pit of my soul, then come to me now, Bren. Save me. Catch me.
She thought she saw a shadow of movement around Bren’s house, a flicker of black on black, but it was so dark she couldn’t be sure.
And Jared was growing impatient. “Need some assistance?” he asked, jabbing the cold hard muzzle of his weapon into her chest. “Maybe I should help you along with a good, hard push.” He did push, using his weapon as he leaned into her. Miranda found herself leaning back and holding on to the railing with all her might. She didn’t see or hear the ravens she’d tried to call to her.
Maybe Bren was right and all they’d ever had was sex. She was drawn to him, she dreamed of him because she was starved for emotion and friendship and sex. If that’s all they had, she’d soon be dead.
Miranda didn’t fear death. She knew life continued on; she knew she would see her parents and her sister once again, and she would be happy. But she also knew to the pit of her soul that this life was not finished. She had more to do. Love, children, justice—perhaps even forgiveness for a friend who had lied to her. There were spirits to send on, a man to love, a life to make. She wanted to break the Lynch love curse—which had never been a curse at all, just bad luck, or destiny making sure she waited for Bren to come along—once and for all. Facing the dark abyss, she didn’t want to die with those things undone.
But Jared was impatient. He gave her a final hefty push and pried her fingers from the railing. He shoved her and she fell backward. Miranda instinctively reached for the railing, grasping for support, finding it with a jerk as her body fell for a moment and then stopped. For a too-short moment she held on with one hand and grasped for a hold with the other, but it wasn’t enough. She flailed for a moment, then her fingers slipped and she dropped.
She tumbled, and the fall stole her breath. Her head tipped back and in the darkness she saw a flock of birds jetting toward her. She heard the fluttering wings of ravens over the rush of air as she fell, and within a fraction of a second those wings were clustered around her, a cushion of muscle and cartilage and feathers. The ravens held her on air, as they had once before.
All was not soft in her cushion. Claws and beaks snatched at her clothing. Countless ravens positioned themselves beneath her, slowing her descent. This drop was longer and more dangerous than the one she’d taken at the farm, and her speed was greater than it had been from a hayloft. Not too far below were trees whose sturdy limbs would stop her long before her body found the ground. Such a landing would not be pleasant, she imagined. No, it would kill her, just as Jared had intended.
Before that happened the ravens took control of their movements and the sense of falling ceased. They carried her, as they had before, in a manner that made her suffer motion sickness and a surreal sense of floating across the skies without even the tiniest bit of control. She closed her eyes and relaxed, trusting herself into Bren’s care. He’d come to her; he’d heard her call.
The ravens carried Miranda to a clearing in the valley and gently, but not too gently, dropped her there. She was prepared to watch Bren transform; she was ready to answer all his questions about what had happened, but he didn’t give her the chance.
The ravens that had rescued her rose into the night sky, leaving her alone on the side of a dark, deserted mountain.
Bren had never experienced such all-consuming anger in this form, which usually brought him only peace. First Archard and now this. Why had the Order sent someone to kill Miranda so soon after her rescue? Hadn’t he convinced them that there was no risk of the two of them restoring the Korbinian legacy? Didn’t they recognize the sacrifice he’d made in order to keep her safe?
He would return to Miranda as soon as he could, but the man who’d tried to kill her would not get away. Not this time.
The intruder had apparently seen no reason to rush from the cabin after Miranda had gone over the side of the deck, and he was just exiting the front door as the ravens shot over the top of the house. The man looked up, alerted by the noise of the flock, and the ravens dove, taking him by surprise.
The man who’d tried to kill Miranda was made of soft and vulnerable flesh, and he cried out in surprise and horror as the first beak found its target. While a handful of the ravens attacked the man, others attacked his car—the same car Bren had seen the intruder driving on Sunday night. Tires were slashed, windows shattered. The man screamed hysterically and reached for his gun, a weapon three ravens quickly snatched away.
The attack was vicious and unrelenting.
The man dropped to his knees and began to cry. Occasionally he screamed and flailed his arms, but his screams were weak and reached no ears other than his own. His frantic defensive movements did not dissuade the ravens in the least. His clothing was soon ripped and bloody, and his heart raced so fast it seemed to be on the verge of exploding. The ravens listened to that heartbeat, and to the ragged breathing, and to the constant moans as they attacked. Blood, black in the night, ran down the man’s face and arms and neck.
In a few more minutes the man could be dead, and heaven knows Bren wanted the bastard killed. But he was not the monster Archard and his kind thought him to be, and he wouldn’t allow them to turn him into one. He wasn’t going to take this man’s life in anger and revenge. In his condition he wasn’t going anywhere.
The ravens broke away from the cabin as quickly as they had come, leaving a sobbing, bleeding man and an all but destroyed car sitting in front of the Talbot cabin.
It was so dark that Miranda heard the returning ravens long before she saw them. Without words, she understood what Bren wanted her to do. She closed her eyes and opened her arms wide, and without stopping, without further preparation, the ravens gathered around her and grasped her tightly, before taking off again with her body caught in the midst of black feathers and deadly beaks.
This time she didn’t experience motion sickness and disorientation. She relaxed completely; she trusted herself body and soul into Bren’s care. His cold dismissal had been intended to keep her safe, she knew that now. Deep down she’d known it all along. She had been born for him; she was Kademair. Cool air washed over her body, and in spite of the terror she had just experienced, she laughed. She was flying. Flying! The mountain she had come to love rose before her; the green valley below sped past quickly, hinting at the speed at which she traveled.
The ravens carried her onto the deck of the mountaintop house, where they gently set her down before withdrawing and, in t
he blink of an eye, transforming into the man she loved.
Bren didn’t say a word, just took her in his arms and held her close for a long while. Eventually he set her back, kissed her quickly and led the way into the darkened house, turning on a lamp as he neared the telephone. He quickly tapped out three numbers: 911.
Bren gave the dispatcher his name and told a quick and plausible story. He’d been headed down the mountain when he’d run into Miranda Lynch running up, having just escaped an attempt on her life. Together they saw the oddest thing. The man who’d tried to kill her was attacked by a flock of birds. He and Miranda didn’t stick around to see what happened, Bren said, but rushed back up the hill to call for help.
When he hung up the phone, Miranda asked, “Is he dead?”
Bren shook his head. “No, but he’s not going anywhere on his own, either. Not for a while.”
She walked into his arms and rested her head on his chest. “He tried to kill me because of what I can do.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know. The attempt on my life had nothing to do with you. Jared is not a member of any so-called Order that claims to keep peace. He had not even the tiniest bit of nobility in his intentions. He wanted to kill me so I couldn’t tell his wife, my best friend, that her husband is a murderer.”
Bren’s hand rested in her hair.
“I dread telling Autumn who her husband really is,” Miranda whispered.
“Maybe deep down she already knows,” Bren said.
“Maybe.” She tipped her head back so she could look into his face. “You heard me,” she said softly. “When I called for help, when I screamed in my mind that I needed you, you heard me.”
“I did,” he admitted simply.
“You can’t tell me what we have is just sex. You can’t tell me we found one another because we were both lonely and horny.”
That got a half smile out of him. “No, I don’t suppose I can. But the truth isn’t easy. Stay with me and you’ll have to fight for survival against those like Quinn who would gladly kill to make sure I’m the last of my kind. Stay with me and if we’re lucky enough to survive, your teenage sons will have the power to turn into ravens and fly away. I love you, I don’t want to live without you, but stay with me and our life will be filled with secrets and responsibilities and—”
“Stay with me,” Miranda interrupted, “and I will love you no matter what comes. Stay with me, and neither one of us will ever be alone again.” She kissed him, then, with her heart open and ready to take any risk. Bren kissed her back, and she had no doubt about what was to come. “Get dressed,” she said as she took her mouth from his. “We should meet the sheriff at the cabin so I can tell him who Jared is and why he tried to kill me. He’ll have to believe me this time.”
“And after that’s done we’ll come back here together and you’ll stay,” Bren said, not moving away from her to do what needed to be done.
“Yes, I will. I can’t imagine living my life anywhere else,” she said honestly.
In the distance sirens wailed. The noise was obscene on this beautiful, normally peaceful mountain. It did not belong here.
She did.
Chapter 15
Five Months Later
Miranda had wondered, in the months since she and Bren had married, if things between them would change once she conceived. Most especially, she wondered if the sex would change. Was their strong attraction simply a biological urge to see that the Korbinians survived? When she was carrying his child, would their fierce and passionate draw to one another diminish?
Apparently not.
They lay in bed at the end of the day, tangled and warm and aroused. Bren placed one hand over Miranda’s very slightly rounded belly. She had not begun to show right away, but these days she definitely had a little baby bump.
“Are you sure I don’t have to worry about wings and beaks and claws until he’s a teenager?” she asked.
“Positive,” Bren said, kissing the slight swell.
“I feel like the old nursery rhyme. ‘Four and twenty blackbirds, baked in a pie.’”
He ignored her, which was just as well, and moved his mouth lower, kissing his way down her body. Miranda closed her eyes and said no more as she lost herself in the physical sensations her husband roused in her. Such warmth, such pleasure. Heaven above, such need had the power to drive her around the bend. In a good way, in a marvelous way.
She urged him on with hands and mouth and moans she could not control. There was no rush, not in this coming together or any other. She tasted him, touched him, marveled in him, and when they finally came together, the relief and the pleasure of having him inside her was sharp and all-encompassing. They made love, they had sex, they bonded, they got lost in one another in every way—physical and spiritual. And they found release together, sweating and grasping.
No, their desire had not changed just because the next of the Korbinans was growing inside her.
For a long while they lay together in the bed, satisfied and more than satisfied. Content. Happy.
“I got a phone call from an FBI agent I used to work with,” she said, cuddling against Bren.
“Talbot?” Bren asked, only a hint of displeasure in his voice.
“No. Another agent I worked with a couple of times.” She hadn’t talked to Roger in a long while. He had done as he’d promised and signed over the cabin down the hill. Bren had tried to pay him for the place, but Roger insisted on calling it a wedding present. Between infrequent trips out of town to do what she did and making her home here with Bren, Miranda had redecorated the cabin. The roof was now a dull green that blended more pleasantly with the landscape, and the interior had been completely redone. The cabin down the hill was now a quaint, duck-free zone where her friends came on occasion to visit.
Autumn in particular got a lot of use out of the cabin. She escaped there to get away from reporters and curious neighbors and well-meaning friends. Finding out that her husband was a cheat and a murderer had been a shock, but she was finally finding her footing again, or at least beginning to. Their divorce was final—and Jared Sidwell was never going to get out of prison.
“This job of yours might be the last one, you know,” Bren said. “Once you start to show we’ll have to leave.”
Not only leave, but disappear. They’d have to change their names, hide, make an entirely new life. She certainly couldn’t let anyone know what she could do. If that knowledge became public she’d be too easy to find and identify.
Sad as all that was, it would be worth it to know their child—their children—would be safe. She just hated that Bren had to give up this mountain he’d worked for so long to call his own. It was finally entirely his, and he couldn’t stay.
“I don’t mind,” he said softly, all but reading her mind. “I don’t need a mountain. I have you, and you, Miranda Korbinian, are the entire world to me.”
They had each packed a small bag, and for the past couple of months Bren had been taking money out of his accounts. They had enough cash to keep them comfortable for a while, more than enough to get settled.
He didn’t know how long the cash would last, but it would give them a good start. If eventually he had to roof houses and Miranda told fortunes at a local carnival, they’d get by. They would find a way.
Bren had thought he’d hate to leave this house he’d worked so hard to build, but strangely enough he was more excited about what lay ahead than he was worried about what he was leaving behind. He loved his wife; he craved the sons he’d never thought he would know.
Miranda was more worried than he was. She looked cute as hell in her black pants, long and loose green shirt, and porkpie hat. No one could tell yet that she was pregnant, but he could see the changes in her. Her face glowed, her body was slightly more rounded, and she was as content as he was with whatever might come.
They were packed and ready to go, and Miranda was taking one last look around the place she’d called home for such
a short time. She ran her fingers over the bar he’d built himself as if she’d come to love this house as much as he did. Almost lovingly she touched the raven figurine she’d placed there when she’d moved in. But she smiled, and he knew that like him, she realized the sacrifice was worthwhile.
The sound of the doorbell made her jump.
Bren was closest to the door, so he answered, confused about who might be on the front porch. It was the middle of the day. No one was staying at the cabin. Callers up here were rare.
Bren never expected to see Roger Talbot standing on the porch. Tempted as he was to slam the door in the man’s face, he didn’t. He grudgingly invited Talbot into the house.
Miranda kept her distance. She’d forgiven Talbot, for the most part, but she had not forgotten the years of lying and betrayal. She’d once trusted him entirely, and now she couldn’t trust him at all. Maybe this surprise visit was a good thing. She might feel better if she had a chance to say goodbye—even if Talbot didn’t know it was a final goodbye.
Talbot wasted no time. “I won’t stay. Just dropped by to tell you that there’s no need to run because Miranda’s pregnant. She’s not in any danger and neither is the child.”
Bren instinctively stepped closer to his wife, compelled to protect her. The Order couldn’t possibly know about the baby. They’d been so careful. She hadn’t even told Autumn!
Miranda lifted her chin and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She didn’t lie well. Never had.
Talbot didn’t move closer. “Please,” he said, sounding thoroughly disgusted. “You bought chocolate ice cream and pickles at the grocery store last week. You’ve taken to wearing those long, baggy shirts, and you—” he turned to glare at Bren “—you’ve been taking cash out of your accounts for two months.”
“Maybe we’re just tired of being watched all the damn time,” Bren said.
Roger conceded that possibility with a shrug. “Whatever. I just wanted you two to know that the man who took Quinn’s place has issued instructions that you’re not to be touched. Neither of you. If the Korbinians are meant to survive, then it’s not our place to interfere.”
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