How It Is

by T. S. Joyce

  Inside, Krome turned his glance toward her and gave the devil’s smile. With a yelp, she turned around fast like she hadn’t been staring at him. Had he heard her? Okay, maybe Crow Blooded had good hearing. That was unfortunate.

  “Anywaaaays,” she drawled out. “I’m taking a few days off of work and heading out to a retreat…in the mountains…terrible service out here…soooo…” God why was she this awful at lying? “Can you feed the birds until I get home?”

  “You want to go into the mountains? You never take vacations.”

  “Well, I asked for some time off…” Lie. She hadn’t even called her co-workers yet. “And I really just needed a break from everything.”

  “Okay!”

  “Okay?”

  “Sunflower, how many times have I told you to stop and smell the roses over the last few years? You’ve been burning the candle at both ends and at some point, you have to slow down and enjoy your life a little. You haven’t done that since Ben.”

  Ben. Just the mention of him dragged the corners of her smile downward. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean after he left, you just stopped living. You threw yourself into work, and into the birds, and you didn’t bring your head up for breath. I think you focused on what you could control, and work, and the animals so you didn’t have to cope with that engagement falling apart. I’ve waited three years for you to slow down, girl. If that’s what you’re doing now? I fully support it. I’ll pack some things and head to your house in a bit. Don’t worry about the birds, we will all be fine. You just go live.”

  Cora leaned against the porch railing, and cast another glance at Krome. “I don’t think about Ben anymore. Not like I used to. I guess I just got in the habit of working because there was nothing else really going on in my life. Just the birds. They make me happy.”

  “And it’s a good life, honey. It’s just not all there is to life.”

  Mom had never talked about this with her, so Cora was a little stunned. But she was also right. For the last few years, her entire life had revolved around the clinic. It revolved around how many birds she could save. It was a lonely life, but one with purpose.

  “Send me pictures. You should go ziplining,” Mom told her. “Or horseback riding! They’ll have lots of fun excursions in the mountains. Meet a boy. Meet six boys! Just have fun. And don’t worry about anything here, I’ll house-sit.”

  Cora was smiling again, and she leaned her elbows on the porch railing, scanned the woods in front of the house. It was beautiful here. “I’ll be home soon.”

  “Take your time. I love you, Sunflower.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  And then they ended the call.

  Cora stared at the dark screen of her phone for a minute. She could see her reflection there. No makeup because she’d showered all of Krome’s blood off. Her hair hung damply down to her shoulders. She should’ve looked more tired, because she’d barely gotten any sleep since she’d arrived here, but mostly her eyes looked clear and happy. Huh.

  The door opened behind her and when she turned, Krome was there with two bowls of beef stew. He handed her one.

  Cora sniffed it and immediately, her stomach growled. She laughed and ducked her gaze so he wouldn’t see the heat in her cheeks, and then took a seat on the top stair of the porch. Krome’s wings were too big to sit down, so he stayed leaning against the railing, blowing on a bite as his dark eyes studied the woods. “Who’s Ben?”

  Cora froze mid-bite. So he could hear very well. He’d heard her soft-spoken conversation with an entire wall and closed door between them. She lowered the hot bite back into the bowl and said, “He was my fiancé. A long time ago.”

  “You were engaged?”

  She nodded.

  “What happened?”

  Cora puffed air out of her cheeks. “He wasn’t ready. He walked away the month before we walked down the aisle. I was really angry at first. Felt like he’d wasted my time, and all that effort, and work, and compromise was for nothing. But now I know he was right to walk away. We wouldn’t have lasted long. We were too different. He was too controlling and I was too forgiving, and I would’ve lost myself.” She shrugged up her shoulders. “Anyway, that seems like it happened in a different lifetime. After we split, I did my apologies to our family and friends for the wedding being off, and I guess I distanced myself while I dealt with the hurt, and then after a while, that distance felt normal. Just like normal everyday life. I didn’t have the same friends we’d shared anymore, and his family attached to the new girl he started dating, and I just…”

  “Worked.”

  She nodded and took her bite of stew. The flavor rippled across her tastebuds. “Oh my gosh,” she said around the bite. “This is amazing. What brand is it?”

  “What brand?” he asked.

  “Is it homemade?”

  He nodded. “It’s my mom’s recipe. I make big pots of it sometimes when we have meetings, and freeze the leftovers.”

  “Oh, for times when you get your wings crushed and need a quick meal?” she asked.

  “Exactly.” Already he had some color in his cheeks and after his shower, he looked like he felt much better. “My wings don’t hurt anymore. Just my muscles from not changing, but the wings feel okay. That’s a good sign, right?”

  She understood. He wanted reassurance that he might fly again.

  “It’s good, but we won’t know for sure until you try.” She didn’t want to make any promises.

  “You didn’t tell your mom you were stolen,” he said suddenly.

  “I’m not really stolen if I’m where I want to be,” she admitted softly.

  Krome canted his head and studied her like he didn’t understand. “You’re different.”

  “Thank you for saying different and not weird.” She grinned.

  He stared at her with those endless black eyes for a three-count, and then suddenly, he was kneeling in front her. He’d moved so fast, she hadn’t been able to comprehend. Just…suddenly he was in front of her kneeling, his face inches from hers, those eyes swallowing her soul up. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even drag breath into her lungs. She was just frozen as she realized how fast he could really be. How powerful. How much he could easily hide from her.

  They were not the same.

  Krome lifted his hand and slowly, so slowly, he brushed his knuckles against her cheek. His touch trailed fire across her skin. Cora inhaled slowly and reached for his wrist. She wanted him to stay. How long had it been since she’d allowed a man to touch her? How long had it been since touch had felt good?

  But just as her fingertips reached him, he disappeared as if he’d never existed at all.

  She gasped and twisted to look at the open doorway, but all she heard was the sound of his bedroom door shutting.

  Stunned, she picked up a long, black feather from beside her. He might’ve been able to disappear like he didn’t exist, but he did. She ran her finger along the edge of the soft feather.

  Krome did exist.

  And with very minute she spent with him, her old life felt farther and farther away.

  With the feather, she touched her face where he’d stroked her cheek. Why had he done that? Why had he gone and made her heart reach for him? How was she supposed to fit back into the constraints of the box she’d turned her life into? He was changing the shape of her wants. Changing what she’d thought she knew.

  Did he know? Did he understand?

  Krome was changing everything.

  Chapter Eight

  Did she realize what she’d done?

  Krome sat on the roof, waiting for the sun to rise. The black tape that had bound his wings lay in tatters beside him on the shingles, and his wings stretched behind him. He was going to fly again. He would. And the first thing he would do with that flight was kill Moore Bane.

  He had to. It was the war of his people. The war of his father. It was the war that his Murder had been a part of since it had come into existence. Th
ere were expectations on him, and if he wanted to remain king here, he had to end this war once and for all.

  Cora would blame herself. That’s what the good-hearted did. Krome wasn’t one of the good-hearted, but he understood.

  She would realize what he was the second he touched the air currents again.

  He was a weapon.

  The thing about hate…

  It gave purpose. If a life was immersed in it, if vengeance became a man’s oxygen, that darkness couldn’t be undone.

  He’d touched her cheek and it had wrecked him. It had made him question his purpose. Had made him question everything.

  She didn’t understand the rules he had to abide by. She didn’t understand the single-minded aim in a war. She was too good, too pure, to ever get caught up in anything like this.

  He would wreck her with his hate.

  That’s what the Crow Blooded would do to the good-hearted.

  Why did he care? Why was he letting the damn softness of her cheek affect him like this?

  He stretched his wings out farther behind him. The feathers were growing back in faster than he would’ve guessed. He wasn’t losing them anymore. His bones cracked and popped, but didn’t break with the stretch.

  He felt powerful. He felt like he could fly in this form, half-changed—half crow, half man. Maybe he could. Maybe Cora had created an even bigger monster.

  The sun peeked over the horizon.

  He couldn’t have her.

  Wouldn’t have her.

  He would kill Moore or be killed for what had been done to his wings. It’s all he’d thought about, all he’d dreamed about. His moments of understanding were few and only happened when Cora was aiming her logic and goodness at him.

  He had to focus. She made him weak.

  He couldn’t have her.

  Some of his crows flew across the sunrise. The first shift was starting its workday right on time. Some of them had left after they’d lost the battle with the Banes. Some of his crows had jumped ship and sought the safety of other Murders. Bron had given him a list of names. The loss filled him with more darkness.

  Everyone knew their assigned hours to keep eyes on the bears. The night crew would be coming off the Bane brother’s mountains and heading to bed for a while before they started whatever day jobs they worked. Bron headed up the night crew, Laken the morning crew, and Krome oversaw the evening crew. There couldn’t be peace. What would he do? What would his purpose be?

  Hate did that to a man.

  It gave him purpose.

  Krome stood and stretched his arms out, closed his eyes as the chilly morning breeze caressed his skin.

  Soon.

  He would fly soon.

  Moore would die soon.

  Cora would leave soon.

  He would fulfill the prophesy and keep his people safe, keep the humans safe, keep his father’s legacy safe.

  There was no room for the good-hearted in this life.

  He couldn’t have her.

  He couldn’t wreck her.

  He couldn’t be a shadow over her life, or take away from her own purpose.

  Cora saved things, and Krome?

  He killed them.

  Chapter Nine

  The sound of talking woke Cora up.

  Frowning against the sunlight that was blasting a single-minded beam onto her left eyelid, she groaned and stretched, and then log-rolled away from the light.

  What time was it?

  The clock on the night stand read 1:07. PM? Cora sat up in bed. 1:07 in the afternoon? Holy hell balls, she’d slept in. Really slept in. She couldn’t even remember the last time she slept past seven in the morning.

  Okay. Well, she hadn’t gotten much sleep since she’d been brought here, and it had been an emotional rollercoaster every second of the way, so she probably needed that extra sleep.

  She felt great. Recharged and well-rested, but when she caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror, she nearly shrieked. Her hair had dried into a snarled mess on top of her head, and Krome’s billowing, giant shirt didn’t do anything flattering for her figure.

  The voices outside the room got louder, more aggressive.

  She padded to the door and pressed her ear to it.

  “I won’t say this again,” Krome said. “This is a non-issue, it’s a waste of a fucking meeting, This talk is done!”

  Whoa, he sounded pissed.

  There was a couple of murmured voices but she couldn’t hear their words, just the tone. Oh, the Murder was mad.

  The door opened suddenly, and she went flying forward into the hallway. Krome stood there, his eyes roiling black, his cheeks flushed, and his hair mussed like he’d run his hands through it vigorously three or four hundred times.

  “I…” Cora straightened her spine and smoothed the wrinkles out of her parachute shirt. “I think it’s stupid that your doors open out into the hallway. How does that make any sense? Doors are supposed to open into the bedrooms.” Yep, that’s what she was focused on right now.

  “Come with me.”

  “Uh, I’d rather not,” she told him, trying and failing to run her fingers through her hair.

  He didn’t pay any attention to her denial though. Silly kings just apparently expected their orders to be obeyed. He disappeared down the hallway and she meandered behind him into the living room.

  Around the sprawling dining table, the Murder had gathered, and in the living room more were loitering. How many hot men could fit into this house? A quick headcount said at least twenty-seven.

  “This is what you’re afraid of,” Krome growled out, gesturing behind him to her.

  “Hey,” she groused, patting her hair down. “That’s a little rude.” She would give her least favorite nipple for a hairband right now. And some makeup. “Hi, hello, hi,” she addressed the Crow Blooded. She waved her fingers and made her way into the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?” Laken demanded.

  Cora paused and arched her eyebrows. “To make some cereal. I’m hungry. Is that okay with you?” Attitude was seeping into her voice, but she didn’t understand the charge in the room, and Laken was staring at her like he was offended that she was hungry.

  “Oh, she’s just going to make herself some cereal. The prisoner is going to make herself some cereal.”

  “She’s not a prisoner,” Krome ground out.

  “Yeah, she is!” Laken yelled. “We brought her here with one purpose—”

  “And that purpose was to heal Krome,” Bron said softly from where he stood in between two towering giants.

  “Which she did,” Krome said.

  “We don’t even know that yet, and it’s beside the point,” Laken told him.

  The other men were all watching them, matching expressions of thoughtfulness in their eyes.

  “What’s happening here?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra and it was a titty-bit-nipply in here.

  “No human is supposed to know about us,” Bron explained. “It’s in the rules that have governed our people since the beginning of our time.”

  “Okay. Rule change.” The nerves were beginning to filter into her stomach. “One human will know. A human who will never tell anyone.”

  “How can we know that for sure?” Laken asked her. “I don’t want to look over my shoulder waiting for the damn humans to show up on our doorsteps with their torches and pitchforks.”

  “I won’t tell anyone though—”

  “How can we know for sure?” Laken yelled. “How can we know that a year from now, you won’t be drunk in a bar telling your friends about that one time you did surgery on a crow shifter? How can we know you won’t tell your kids bedtime stories about the Crow Blooded? You aren’t one of us. You can’t be trusted.”

  “Caaaareful,” Krome advised darkly as he came to stand beside her. His wings twitched, and she could see it. He’d ripped his bindings off. Bad Krome. “Careful how you speak to th
e woman who has done nothing but what you’ve asked. You brought her here. She didn’t come here on her own, and still, she’s offered to keep our secrets.”

  “What are we without our rules, Krome?” he asked. “Everyone breaks them, but us, and it’s kept us safe. It’s kept us alive.”

  “Our rules are also to protect human life,” Bron pointed out. Okay, she liked Bron. Laken could go stub his pinky toe on the couch.

  Cora looked up at Krome just in time to see his eyes narrow to angry slits. “What are you suggesting?”

  “Krome, this isn’t anything new—”

  “What are you suggesting?” he demanded again, stalking toward Laken.

  “You know what I think we should do?” Laken lifted his chin higher in the air, and faint purple smoke wafted from his skin. “For the good of the Murder, she has to be eliminated.” He offered a sideways glance at Cora. “She knows too much.” Laken lifted those bottomless black eyes to Krome. “And as king, you took an oath to protect us.”

  An empty smile curved up Krome’s lips. “As king,” he repeated softly.

  “No,” Bron said, stepping forward. “No!” He slammed his fist on the table. “We settled this years ago.”

  “Krome wasn’t hurt then,” Laken murmured.

  “Laken, shut the fuck up,” Bron growled.

  “Let him do it,” another crow called out.

  “Let him do what?” Cora whispered, slipping her hand to the inside of Krome’s elbow. Every muscle was tensed and he felt cold, like a statue. “What’s happening?” she asked.

  Laken’s eyes went to her hand on Krome’s arm, and a smile took his face too. It looked harsh and hate-filled, like Krome’s.

  “You’ll allow her to touch you like that?”

  “He can claim her and then none of this matters,” Bron said. “King gets to choose any mate he wants.”

  “And you think a human would make a good match?” someone yelled from the back of the room. “Archer fucked a human and look what happened. His crow boy is being raised by a bear shifter.”

  The chaos of the room made her head spin as all of the crows began speaking at once.

  “…be damned if a human is queen…”