Chapter 19
Issa heard the men’s shocked exclamation behind her. She understood their confusion. For the first time in twenty years she felt … normal. As if she’d thrown off a restrictive costume and was back to herself. She didn’t want to go back inside. But, with the most recent gunshot attack, she was compelled to. Inside she walked straight to the nearest window and opened it. Instantly several birds flew in. She laughed like a child. She held out her arms, and a small songbird landed on her fingers. She crooned gently to it as she stroked the beautiful feathers along its back.
“It’s late, little one. Why are you not tucked away safe for the night?”
It hadn’t escaped her that many of the raptors flying around would’ve taken the songbird as a tiny morsel for its breakfast. The bird chirped, walked up her arm, and settled against her neck. Issa closed her eyes and rejoiced. A call came from another bird flying above her. She opened her eyes to see what appeared to be a mourning dove. She raised an eyebrow and held up a hand. He landed on the back of her wrist. She brought it down so she could look at it closer. At the same time, the songbird stroked her soft cheeks.
“Aren’t you special, little one,” she murmured. The mourning dove walked back and forth along her forearm. Not upset or agitated. Looking to get comfortable. He walked up her sleeve to her other shoulder and sat there.
“This is all fine and dandy, guys, but the rides will be over very soon.”
The mourning dove trilled in her ear.
She smiled, gently stroking its soft gray feathers.
The eagle she’d been holding outside walked into the room and stood on the back of the couch. Huge and majestic, his golden gaze stared at her. Unflinching, he felt secure. She’d never seen anything like it. She walked over to sit beside him.
The little songbird remained nestled against her neck. It was so tiny. The eagle continued to stare at her, his wings folded back, but the fascination in his gaze was reflected in her own, she knew. This was such a magical moment. She gently stroked the long head and chest, his beautiful dark and yellow feathers a wonderful attraction in the room. But he wasn’t alone.
There were crows and magpies and other songbirds, sparrows and chickadees, not just the raptors, which were what she had thought would potentially be attracted to her. When a barn owl hopped up onto her knee and twisted his head around to look at her, she chuckled in delight. “And what’s your name?”
It made a tiny sound, but, in her mind, he had answered her.
“How can you be called Rubiks?” she asked with a tiny laugh. “You’re mostly one color—brown. A Rubik’s Cube is full of colors.”
This time there was no answer. But he continued to fix his gaze on her. She stared at them all in wonder. And finally she turned to the three men in the middle of the living room, shock and bewilderment on their faces. The two new arrivals were just as big as Eagle and just as dumbfounded. She’d loved it when Panther opened his mouth and flashed his gold tooth. But right now, none of the men were smiling. They stared at her like she’d grown two heads right in front of them.
“I guess you want me to explain?” she asked in a small voice.
Eagle stared at her. “Can you explain this?”
“I don’t know that I can. But this happened to me when I was a child. I forgot until now. But I would go outside, and the birds would come to me. I’d play on the swing, and the birds would collect around me. They’d land on my shoulders, on my hands, on my legs. If I had a glass with water, they’d sit on the glass, and, if there was a table, they would perch beside me.”
“What did your family think?”
“Honestly I think they thought I was crazy. Among the other kids, I was a fascination, and some of them really looked up to me.” She gave a lopsided smile. “My brothers on the other hand, I think they were jealous. The youngest one, Liam, would chase away the birds. But I don’t think he did so to protect me. It was more because he didn’t want the evidence that I could do something he couldn’t.”
Eagle crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze going from bird to bird.
She stood and walked closer to him, the owl now on her palm. “Liam was always angry.” She extended her arm with the little owl on it. He hopped onto Eagle’s forearm and nestled up against his sweater.
Eagle froze. “I handle birds all day long,” he said. “And most of them don’t want to be touched.” He nodded toward the little owl. “What did you do to him?”
“I told him that you were a friend,” she said gently. “And that you wouldn’t hurt him.”
She turned her gaze to the two huge men standing behind Eagle. Panther stared at her in fascination.
Tiger, on the other hand, stared at her in shock. “Dear God, can you talk to animals too?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. It’s not like I use words though. For whatever reason, I’ve always had an affinity for feathers. Maybe that’s what I had with Hadrid.”
“Who’s Hadrid?” Panther asked.
Rather than answering, she let Eagle give the explanations. She walked around the room, gently stroking and greeting each of the birds that had come in. And then, unable to stop herself, she walked to the front door and stepped back out.
Hundreds of birds flew near the fence, on the rooftop, and the deck. She cried out in joy. A part of her world had finally come back. A sense of remembrance, a sense of homecoming she’d never thought to have again. She’d searched long and wide for a connection with another bird like she’d had with Hadrid. And here was one of those events in her childhood, so connected to Hadrid that it had been commonplace, and yet, since she’d lost him, she’d lost these experiences, these connections too.
She called out to them, her voice imitating, picking up the different sounds as she cooed and cawed, sending cries into the air. More and more birds arrived. She turned and danced in a circle with her arms wide. Her head back, she let out an odd sound from deep within her gut. Sounds she’d heard many times before but not in the last twenty years. When she finally fell silent, she let her eyes drift closed, and just stood there, feeling the love, feeling the connection. Long bottled up emotions welled up, bringing tears to her eyes.
A small bird landed on her arm, walking up to her shoulder where it hunkered down and cuddled close. When it trilled in her ear, the tears dripped down her cheeks. Gillian. The little saw-whet own had found her again.
When she opened her eyes again, the men stood in front of her. She stared up at Eagle, knowing he could see the tears coursing down her cheeks, and she whispered, “There’s such a bond, a sense of love and connection with these birds that, as a child, it was way stronger than my connection to my mother. Or my father. And definitely not with my brothers. As if I was hatched and not born. As if I was meant to be a bird myself. And yet God made a mistake and plunked me way down in this awkward human form.”
Eagle’s gaze shifted to her shoulder.
She smiled. “The little owl is Gillian. She lived with me at my cabin,” Through the tears, her smile deepened as she added, “Isn’t that wonderful?”
He looked at her and nodded. “It’s just too unbelievable.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I do know. When I was a child, this is what I had. They were my friends. They were my confidants. In so many ways, they were my family. Nobody else understood me. Nobody understood a damn thing. But I always knew when somebody was being mean to a bird. I always knew when someone was coming because the birds would let me know. I would hear their wings as they flew. When a tree rustled, I could tell what bird it was. I didn’t know the names, certainly didn’t know all the proper terms, but I could tell their colors, their size, if they were ones I had seen before many times, or if they were new,” she added, her voice soft. “I never went to school in Ireland. Maybe because I wasn’t allowed to. Because they didn’t think I’d fit in.”
“I can’t imagine that you would have,” Tiger said. “Children are inherently mean. If you come to school with twenty birds in tow, the teachers would have had a lot to say to you, and none of it would’ve been nice. And, depending on where you lived, if there were any kinds of fears or beliefs that you were more demon than angel, it would’ve been much worse for you. Everyone instinctively is afraid of what they don’t understand.”
“You said you didn’t have the same connection with your mother?” Eagle asked. “Did that start in infancy?”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t know.” She let her gaze return to the front door. “Did you see any baby pictures of me?”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. But it makes me wonder why. And how this”—he waved his arms at the birds surrounding them—“could’ve come to pass. Did she have anything to do with you or did she avoid you?”
“Nothing to do with me. Avoided me every moment she could. Maybe she didn’t want me. Didn’t want another pregnancy. Once we moved here, she was different—then I was too.”
“Your birth certificate has your father’s name, not Angus’s.”
She laughed. “No way she could list anyone else. My father would have killed her,” she said simply. “I was something unique for him to hold up to his friends, to show them what I could do. I think he’s the one that fostered a love for me and maybe even over my mother’s wishes.”
“They fought all the time?”
She stilled and tried to glance back into her past. “There was yelling. I never understood if he yelled at my brothers or if he was always yelling at my mother.” She stopped for a moment, then nodded. “No, they often fought. Mealtimes were terrible.” She frowned. “That’s why I spent so much time with the birds.”
“Your birds made it a happy, unique time in your life,” Panther said.
Her gaze hardened as she turned to look at the two men. “And I was just six when I lost it all. Until this moment. These last few years I slowly started finding this part of myself again through Roash and Humbug. Roash came out of the sky, circled, and slowly flew down to me. Instinctively I held up my wrist, and he landed on my forearm. In the beginning with Roash and Humbug, there was a bit of a connection, but nothing like now. Big doors shutting away that part of my life have reopened. I couldn’t be happier.”
She tilted her face to the sky and smiled, her eyes closing naturally as the birds’ cries rose up around her. “And now I feel like me again.”
*
Inside, Eagle didn’t know what to say. The evidence was all around him. In the past he may not have believed in anything he couldn’t see or touch, but right now a tiny owl perched on his forearm. And it looked to have made himself right at home. In fact, it really liked his gray wool sweater. He’d thrown it on earlier when he’d gone out to stand guard, and this little owl leaned into it every once in a while, rubbing his head back and forth. That the owl was called Rubiks made his heart cheer. It was adorable. He respected and loved the birds in his care. But he sure as hell hadn’t become friends with them like she had. He glanced at Panther and Tiger.
He knew his friends. They had decades of military experience behind them, just like he had, and they were as dumbfounded as he was now. They stared at him—expecting him to explain. He shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.”
Panther turned to her. “Ma’am, you are the damnedest thing …”
Her lips widened into a big fat grin. With a trill of laughter, she said, “Thank you.”
She was like a small child who somebody gave one of the biggest and best gifts to.
Panther walked to the big living room window. It was still wide open, and the birds flew in and out. He watched the species swirl around him, come in, and then swirl back out again as if checking on the inside of the house, making sure all was well, only to leave again. Panther turned to stare at Tiger and then Eagle. “Is this for real, or are we on some bizarre drug trip?”
Eagle nodded. “It sure as hell is for real.”
Tiger said, “And this is exactly why somebody’s after her.” He shook his head. “Man, you cannot let that happen.”
“Too late. They are already looking for me.” She gasped and turned pale. “That’s it. Now I remember.”
Eagle reached her side in seconds. “What are you talking about?”
“Trauma. My original connection to Hadrid. It came from trauma. I was stuck. I fell off the craggy cliffs into a crevice. I had screamed and cried for help, but nobody heard me. My leg was broken, and I was violently ill from the pain. Nobody came.” Her voice was dark, the chill in her eyes bleak.
Eagle gently patted her shoulder. “Why would you even be alone?”
She slowly turned her gaze his way and said, “My mother. She told me to go and play. She was busy.”
His lip curled. “With her lover?”
“It was a man. But I don’t remember if it was Angus or not,” she said quietly. She shook her head. “I was so very young. I remember I fell once and sprained my ankle. They took X-rays. The old break showed up.”
“What did your mother say to the doctor?” he asked, his tone dark.
“She said I broke it by being foolish.”
Panther stepped toward her. “Was she always so harsh?”
“Always,” Issa said flatly. “You had to know her. She wasn’t very warm or caring.”
“I can see that,” Tiger said with a half a snarl. “She doesn’t sound like a loving mother at all.”
“Go back to what you were talking about, when you said trauma,” Eagle said, getting the conversation back on track. “What did that mean?”
“Hadrid found me. Hadrid led my father to me. Hadrid had a leg band telling us it was one of Angus’s birds. Hadrid had already bonded to me. Angus knew that there was no point in arguing and sold him to my father.”
“So you were crying out for someone to help, and the bird comes?” Panther asked in disbelief. “How does that happen?”
She turned her gaze his way. “No one else would listen to me,” she said softly. “My father and brothers didn’t care. My mother obviously didn’t care.” She shrugged. “Apparently my cries connected with Hadrid—who did care.”
At their snorts of disbelief she gave a half smile. “My family was many things, but I was the odd one out. I was a girl, not my father’s favorite son. And I was so much less than anybody else. I was a liability to them. Until I found a way not to become a liability.”
“Was your fall an accident?”
She nodded. “Yes. But, after I had the broken leg, I used to sit on the cliffs and watch my family below. We were above Smugglers Cove. I could see boats. I had one of those long telescope things to look through. My father would leave my mother and me as a lookout. It was more of a joke, to include me, but my mother would leave it to me anyway.”
“Did your father know it was just you?” He watched as her gaze turned inward.
Then she said softly, “I think he suspected I was alone.”
The men shook their heads. “Not sure I think much of your family,” Tiger said. He turned to the kitchen. “I’m making some coffee.”
“To hell with coffee. Is there anything stronger around here?” Panther snarled. “Just the thought of her family makes me want to puke. And, if I’m not doing that, I want a couple good stiff drinks.”
A sharp crack sounded. Something hit the window as Panther walked toward Tiger. He hit the ground as Tiger hit the lights. Eagle tackled Issa and flattened her onto the couch. She cried out in his arms. His head was close to hers as he whispered, “Stay down.”
She gazed at him and whispered, “Was that a gunshot?”
He nodded.
She struggled to get out of his arms. “Did Panther get shot? We have to help him.”
He slapped a hand over her mouth. She nodded in understanding. He released her, slipped around the couch, and headed for Panther. Only he was already gone. Relieved to see he wasn’t badly hurt, Eagle took a quick look to find both men taking positions at the windows. “Panther?”
“Just a graze.”
Eagle doubted it. But Panther was one hell of a big man, and it would take a lot for him to admit he was hurt. With his gaze adjusted to the darkness, he gave Panther a quick look over. There appeared to be blood on his shoulder and upper arm. But he was using his arm. The three men looked at each other.
“Sharpshooter?” Tiger asked.
“Must be.”
“Security system is still intact,” Eagle said. “It got a good workout yesterday.”
“Our weapons are in the truck,” Tiger said. “We will have a hard time getting to them from the back door of your house.”
“There is a window and glass deck door in the spare room. You can go out that way. But you don’t have to go anywhere. Every room has a rifle at every window.”
The men looked around, and, almost with cheers at the sight, they picked up the rifles. “Fully locked and loaded?”
“The only way to keep ’em,” Eagle bit out.
He could hear the gasp of surprise from Issa at his side. He glanced at her and raised an eyebrow.
“Can you teach me how to shoot?”
“I can do that. Later.”
“I’m not much of a fan of being a sitting duck,” Panther said. “I suggest Tiger and I head out and locate where these assholes are. You stay here, look after Issa.”
Eagle struggled with the concept. But it wasn’t just Issa, it was also the birds.
“They can’t. It’s too dangerous,” Issa said.
“They know the property as well as I do,” Eagle said in a low voice.
“They do?” Issa asked.
He nodded. “They helped build the security system.”
The two men went through Issa’s bedroom and slipped out the back. Issa shifted on the couch, staring in the direction the men left from.
Eagle walked back to her. “They will see if anybody is out there.”
“Yes, but you don’t want to look after me. You should go with them.”
He gave a small snort. “I’m not leaving you.”
She nodded. “How about I just hide? You check the property and make sure the animals are safe.”
He shook his head. “Not happening.”
“I have the birds.” She placed a finger on his lips. “This isn’t the time to worry about me,” she whispered.
“It’s only about you. These men are here to help you. Nobody gets to you, do you hear me?”
He watched her eyes glisten with tears. But she nodded. “I get you.” Then she did something that completely shocked him. She slid her fingers across his cheek, grabbed him by the ears, and pulled him down. Just before their lips connected, she whispered, “Thank you.”
And she kissed him. It was not a light thank-you kiss, but a deep searingly passionate kiss that reached inside his loins and yanked at him hard.
When she released him, he was still locked in the trance of her spell. He shook his head. “Lady, you pack a mean punch.”
“We all have our weapons.”
He stared at her for a long moment.
“What did I say?”
He glanced at the window, then down at her. “You do have some unusual ones. It occurs to me, can you find out if a predator is out there, like you did with Hadrid?”
She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “I just learned minutes ago that these birds and I can communicate on some level. But to send them out, like scouts? Have them report back? That’s a lot to ask for—from them and me. I’ve been sending messages to Humbug and Roash, but we’ve learned that over the last several months.” She paused, pursed her lips. “Humbug isn’t flying well.”
“I thought Humbug was incapable of flying in the first place, other than two-foot jumps.” He studied her. “How did he manage that?”
She stared up at him. “I don’t know. I’m not this person with magical powers,” she snapped. “Maybe Stefan had something to do with it.”
“Yeah, that Stefan guy again.” He shook his head. “We need to talk to him.”
“Tomorrow. And maybe Tabitha. She’s connected to Humbug. Maybe they can feed him enough energy so he can make his way here.”
He gave her a sidelong look. “You do realize how bizarre that sounds?”
Her lips twitched, and her eyes glowed with mystery as she motioned to the ceiling above them. “And this isn’t weird?”
He crouched down and turned to look at all the birds. “Okay, so this is beyond weird. What you’re talking about, other people remotely feeding a bird energy—whatever the hell that means—and helping to direct it to this place …”
A cry sounded outside. Eagle raced to the window and peered out.
“That was a bird cry,” Issa said. “Not human.”
He turned to look at her. “Are you willing to bet on that?”
She stared at him steadily for a long moment and then nodded. “I think the human cry might come soon.”
His brow furrowed as he stared at her in confusion. And, sure enough, screams split the air. Human screams.
He raced out and froze. “Wait here,” he said. And then the cries shut off suddenly. “Jesus.” He slipped out the front door to his security fence line. He stared into the darkness, but nothing was ahead of him. A human cry from the left caught his attention.
He quickly responded. The cry hadn’t sounded like Panther or Tiger. That meant somebody else was on the property. He didn’t dare leave Issa unprotected for long. He sent out a call, letting both men know where he was. The call was answered from up ahead.
He tracked his men to the raptor pens to find them kneeling over a man on the ground. Pulling out his phone, he used the flashlight to check the man over. He appeared to still be breathing but not for very long. As the flashlight climbed higher up his face—one Eagle didn’t recognize—the men at his side gasped.
“I’m pretty sure the sheriff won’t have too much trouble figuring out what happened to him.” The flashlight illuminated the hideous details.
The man’s eyes had been scratched out.