Chapter Six
Audrey dreamed she was flying again, only this time, it was daylight, and there was no creepy shadow-thing carrying her. She had wings.
Her feathers rustled with every shift in the air currents, requiring only minute adjustments to stay in an effortless glide. The sun was just cresting over the misty treetops. Up this high, the roads looked like narrow paths through bushes, the cars just fast-moving beetles. She tucked her feet in tight and tilted into the wind on her right to turn a long, slow corkscrew down. A few wing flaps, and now she soared only a hundred feet above the trees. Then she saw it, a small brown dot scurrying along the edge of the road in a zigzag pattern. Her claws flexed in anticipation as she slowly circled lower.
On her next pass, the rabbit spotted her and froze.
She had a split second to decide if she would dive for her quarry or catch another current and move farther down the road.
She dove.
The rabbit hopped onto the edge of the pavement, then back just as a car passed by, blocking off one route of escape.
She pulled up, talons reaching, wings flapping. She was just within reach, when a loud crack! echoed through the forest. And then a fire erupted in her side, and her wing went limp. Laying there on the ground, she watched the rabbit hop into the bushes, and then she screamed in rage and pain.
Audrey jolted awake, gripping at her shoulder as the echo of torn flesh and bruised bone assaulted her. After catching her breath, she tossed off the thick covers and crept to the bedroom door. The room outside was filled with sunlight, so she stepped out, shielding her eyes as they adjusted to the brightness.
Corvin was asleep in one of the high-back chairs with a wool blanket tucked around him. There was no sign of Smoke, only a faint twittering coming from the room below that housed all the other birds.
She cleared her throat loudly to see if it would wake him. He didn’t stir, but a rustle in the corner snagged her attention. She tiptoed to the side of the makeshift triage table, but the eagle’s crate was covered with a blanket. Though she wanted to, she didn’t lift it. Corvin had been very clear about not touching the birds, and that was one rule she didn’t mind obeying. That, and her heart still ached thinking of the eagle, what she had been through, how she must feel.
So much so that it’s haunting your dreams.
That golden-yellow gaze still hovered in the back of her mind. A grumble from her stomach turned her attention to more urgent needs. She opened and closed the cupboard doors loudly as she snooped for some grub.
When Corvin still didn’t wake, she made a pot of coffee and spread some butter and jam on a thick slice of bread. Maybe it was because she’d spent so long on institutional cafeteria food, or her two week hunger strike, but everything she’d eaten since arriving at this place was the best she’d ever tasted. The bread was crusty on the outside and spongy in the middle, the butter was creamy, and she could practically taste the sunshine in the strawberries. She smacked her lips and licked her fingers clean.
No doubt her stomach would regret leaving. Until she figured out how to do that, she was on a mission to pack on the pounds. Who knew when she would eat so well again?
She made another plate and set it on the table next to her comatose host, then swirled her coffee mug under his nose.
He snored in response and shifted his head to the other side.
She noticed the scars on his right cheek for the first time. It wasn’t like her to miss a detail like that, even when in survival mode. He must have been hiding them.
With magic, maybe? Could Zyne do that?
Three parallel gashes ran from his temple to his jaw, so deep that whatever left them must have nearly torn his face off, and he must not have had stitches. The scars added a sharp handsomeness to his features. His nose was straight, skin clear and youthful under his dark, overgrown stubble. His ebony hair had a gentle curl to it. Tucked behind his ear was a black feather woven in with leather.
She stroked her finger down the side of the feather, but he didn’t move. Her hand hovered over his cheek, then his shoulder.
A loud caw from the window made her jump back, and in that blink of time, Corvin’s hand was wrapped around her wrist. She flinched, but his grip was strong and held her steady. She’d expected to see an edge of anger in those fathomless eyes of his, but instead there was a glow of banked desire beckoning her to jump in after it and follow it down.
Her heartbeat thumped heavily in her wrist where they touched, and she was suddenly aware of their compromising position—his head at the level of her chest, her legs straddling one of his.
He recognized this too, and instead of taking advantage, he scooted his leg back. Then he did the last thing she expected. He closed his eyes and laid her hand against his cheek. She didn’t know how, but in that single touch, she felt the deepest and most sincere apology she’d ever received. Her gut twisted with an unfamiliar nervousness.
Until that moment, she’d forgotten their conversation last night. Now all the shame and anger came bubbling to the surface again. She tried to yank her hand back, but he held her fast, pressing her open palm over his scars. His regret charged the air between them, and though they hadn’t exchanged a word, she understood. He was sharing his pain with her in return for baring hers.
She closed her eyes and nodded, clearing the building tears from the back of her throat. Was that his regret or hers? Because just then she was thinking using him to get out of there would be so much easier if she didn’t start to like him.
His fingers uncurled, slowly releasing her. Smoke hopped onto the back of the chair and pecked him on the head. They both laughed, and the moment slipped away.
Audrey snatched another piece of bread from the plate and leaned on the arm of the other chair. Smoke followed her, looking very interested in her breakfast.
“Coffee,” she said through a mouthful.
“Thanks.” Corvin stood and stretched, and Audrey got reacquainted with her libido for the first time in a long, long while. The man could fill out a T-shirt. He wasn’t ripped, but he clearly worked out. Lithe muscles in his arms lengthened as he reached for the ceiling. She caught a glimpse of the dark happy trail along his taut abs and suddenly found it hard to swallow. He turned his back to her, and for the first time, she took stock of his height, his broad shoulders, and yep… nice ass too.
Being in proximity to such a fine specimen of the male form made her heartbeat kick up a notch and her belly tug in anticipation. When she thought about that drowsy heat she’d seen in his eyes, it sparked something deeper inside her—a burning question. What if that banked desire was unleashed? In the flesh?
I bet your toes would curl.
He picked up his mug and walked past her to the eagle’s crate, seeming oblivious to her ogling. “Good, she’s still resting.”
“Oh, that’s good.” She rolled her eyes at herself and halted the fantasies unreeling in her mind.
C’mon, Audrey. Focus.
She had to get the lay of the land before she put any kind of seduction plan into action. She would probably only get one shot. She tore off another bite of bread and took a big swig of coffee. “Don’t I have an orientation to get to? Or a feasting hall or something? I’d kill the pig myself to get some bacon.”
“There are meals served in the fortress, yes. You can also go to the kitchen anytime you’re hungry. Feel free to raid the pantry. Or if someone is there, they will make you whatever you like.”
“Really?” The kitchen was the first place she was going to memorize her way to. “Chili cheese fries?”
She could hear the smile in his voice when he answered, “I’m sure they can come up with something close. We grow and rear most of our own food here.”
After getting the stare-down from Smoke for long enough, Audrey tossed a piece of bread into the seat of the chair, hoping he would follow. He didn’t, just inched closer, twisting his head this way and that. When she finally gave up and held out the last bite to him, he just looked at her sideways and clicked his beak.
“What?”
Corvin laughed and sat down, sipping his coffee. “He doesn’t want it from your hand.”
“Then what does he want?”
“From your mouth.”
“From my… oh, hell no.” She tossed the rest of the bread at him.
Corvin picked it out of his lap and tucked it into the corner of his lip, with most of it hanging out, like a child would a pretend cigarette. “See? ‘ike dis.”
Smoke flew to the other chair and hopped to Corvin’s shoulder, then happily plucked the bread from his mouth, tearing it off in bits and gulping it down.
She barely stifled her laughter. “Who’s the boss of who here?”
He gave her a self-conscious smile, tucking the feather braid behind his ear. Now she noticed that the feather covered his scars from most angles. “He’s definitely the boss. Keeps things running orderly around here. But it’s not like that. You have to think like a bird. That’s how they share—from beak to beak. It’s a bonding behavior, like the preening he did to your hair. He doesn’t see us as masters, but as kin.”
“You mean he’s trying to make me a part of the family?”
“Exactly.”
“Oh.” She grinned. “So he likes me.”
“He does. And I like your smile,” he said back.
Audrey ducked her head and laughed humorlessly. “Thanks. I haven’t had much use for it lately.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. An awkward silence settled over them. She couldn’t handle another one of their heart-to-hearts on an empty stomach, so she laughed it off and pasted on her most dazzling fake smile.
Corvin stared back at her with those dark, serious eyes, idly stroking Smoke’s chest with the back of his fingers. “If you ever want to talk about anything that you’ve been through…”
That was her cue. She hopped up. “What are you, my camp counselor? We’ll stay up all night telling our secrets and braiding each other’s hair? I’ll pass. Are you gonna let me out of here any time soon? I’m still famished.”
“Of course,” he said, ignoring her attitude shift. “Just let me get cleaned up, then I’ll take you to the fortress and show you the parts you can move about at will.”
As he left the room, not looking at her, a piece of her heart shriveled up in her chest. After so long on her own, being burned so many times, it was a reflex to push people away first, before they did it to her. But technically speaking, Corvin had been nothing but kind. He’d stuck his neck out for her yesterday before they’d even met. He’d given up his bed. He was just as unhappy with the situation as she was, but he wasn’t taking it out on her. It wasn’t his fault that he could see through her act. Or that his efforts to be nice left her more raw and aching than cruelty would.
You’re the one that’s fucked up.
If she was unable to accept the possibility that there was human decency, what did that mean about her own? Was she ready to let that die, too?
“Corvin?”
He paused in the doorway but didn’t turn around. Smoke bobbed his head from Corvin’s shoulder and blinked at her.
“Thanks.”
His only answer was a nod.
A man of few words. Unfortunately, that was another solid plus in her book. The more she was around him, the more she liked him. Too bad he was still her best ticket out of here. She’d done plenty of dirty, underhanded things to get by in the past, so she had no moral qualms about using the chemistry between them as a launching board to her escape. But she’d so rarely come across a truly good person, she hated being the asshole to tell them Santa Claus wasn’t real—everybody gets screwed.
She had to escape. No matter what kind of Kool-Aid they made her drink. She had to leave as soon as possible. Despite the heavenly food and the five-star spa and her sexy keeper with his bird antics and piercing questions, she couldn’t forget that these people had abducted her, stolen her powers, beaten her, and were holding her against her will.
As soon as she saw an out, she was taking it. And she would wreak as much havoc as she could along the way.
She would scout out her other options first though. Because there was a small risk that in the course of seducing Corvin, she would lose track of those facts. She couldn’t afford to forget them. It wasn’t just about her freedom. She’d made a promise. Every day that she stayed here, Lilly was suffering at the hands of Dr. Banner and those Parkview bastards.
If she let that little girl down, she would lose the last few shreds of her soul in the process.