Duck! (Avian Shifters Book 1) (2 page)

Please, not in front of him.

The words flashed up in the forefront of Ori’s mind, vivid and desperate. It was a stupid thing to think. Having an audience wasn’t so rare a thing. He should have been used to it. It shouldn’t have made any difference, but it did—with the new hawk standing there, it did.

Then, he saw the anger in the hawk’s eyes.

“Let him go.”

All the crows’ attention transferred to the hawk.

The hands holding Ori in place jerked away as if the words had turned his skin as hot as any range, as sharp as any knife in the kitchens. The crows fled, colliding with each other in fear as they rushed along the far edges of the kitchen, skirting around out of range of the hawk.

All Ori could do was remain where he was, staring at the hawk. They held each other’s gaze as the crows hurried from the room, and Ori couldn’t even bring himself to care that they would no doubt be back at some point in the future.

The hawk was right there, and, in some stupid way, that was all that mattered. Ori stared helplessly up at the bird of prey as he realised just how much he’d hoped he might catch another glimpse of him.

The hawk stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

Ori watched him approach, not sure what to do—what the hawk might want him to do. Stopping directly in front of him, the man ran his thumb along Ori’s bottom lip.

All confusion disappeared. Lowering himself quickly to his knees, Ori reached for the hawk’s fly. It wasn’t until the hawk pushed his hand away, that Ori noticed the blood on the man’s fingertips.

Ori’s lip was bleeding. The sharp metallic taste hadn’t really registered until then. Snatching a cloth off the countertop, Ori carefully cleaned the hawk’s hand.

That task accomplished, Ori swiped at his own bottom lip. More blood smeared onto the fabric. For a few silent seconds, Ori stared down at the vivid red smudge. It was silly to hope the hawk might want to use his mouth regardless.

“Shall I fetch one of the other servants for you, sir?” he asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Stand up.”

Ori quickly stumbled to his feet.

“How long have you been serving here?”

“A few months, sir,” Ori whispered. When he glanced up, the hawk was still staring at him, a serious expression lingering in the amber eyes.

The silence went on and on.

“Mr. Hamilton offered me a place here.”

More silence.

“He said it would keep me out of trouble until I can complete a full shift, and everything can be sorted out properly,” Ori added.

“And how old are you now?”

“Twenty, sir. I’ll turn twenty-one in June.” Ori swallowed. He knew the math. Part of him had been counting down the days ever since he’d stumbled upon the nest and found out how things were arranged among the shifters. It would be another six months before he’d reach his avian maturity and be able to complete a full shift into his avian form—six months before he had any chance of becoming a true part of the shifter community.

The hawk looked him up and down. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the kitchen. All Ori could do was watch him go.

Except, the hawk didn’t actually go. He paused in the doorway, looking both ways along the corridor outside the kitchens.

“Everet!”

The hawk remained in the doorway until a younger man, a raven who Ori had spotted in the nest a few times over the previous six months, joined him. “Watch him.”

The raven looked into the kitchen. His eyes locked on to Ori. He nodded his acceptance of the order. When the hawk strode away, Everet came closer.

For the third time that day, Ori found himself standing in his usual corner of the kitchen, waiting for a higher-ranking man to reach him. He had no idea what was going on anymore. Any instinct he might have had for fight or flight was too confused to even suggest a course of action.

“Your lip’s bleeding.”

Ori reached up and touched his mouth.

The raven stood a few feet away from him, watching him, just as the hawk commanded. His curiosity was obvious. “Did Raynard do that to you?”

Ori blinked. The hawk’s name was Raynard. Eventually, something more than the knowledge of the hawk’s surname sank in. Ori shook his head as he dabbed at his lip with the cloth again. “It was one of the crows, sir.”

The raven said nothing more; he merely looked Ori over as if wondering why the hell a hawk would take any sort of interest in him.

Ori looked down. He should have already asked himself the same question. Now that the query was in his head, the answer wasn’t far behind it. Raynard was a hawk and he was an ugly little duckling. Ori might not have been raised among shifters, but since he’d found his way into their company, he’d learnt enough to know that species was rank, and rank was everything to the avians. The only reason a hawk would ask Ori his name, was so he could suggest his dismissal.

Even knowing his position in the nest was about to be snatched away from him, Ori found himself looking back to the dishes. “Shall I…?”

The raven looked to the sinks and the plates piled high around them. He shrugged, causing highly defined muscles to jostle beneath his tight black t-shirt. “Raynard didn’t say you couldn’t.”

Ori silently returned to his duties. The work might not have been enthralling, but there was a certain simplicity to it that he’d learnt to appreciate. There was something comforting about knowing exactly what was expected of him, exactly where his place in the world was.

The raven leaned back against one of the huge cabinets to Ori’s right, arms folded across his chest as he stared vacantly into the middle distance. He was so still, so silent, Ori almost forgot he was there. Picking up a stack of the plates, he turned toward the cabinet and only just stopped short of walking into him.

Everet straightened up and opened the cabinet door for Ori.

“Thank you, sir.”

Not meeting Everet’s eyes, Ori turned back to the sinks. Filling them with fresh water, he looked over his shoulder. The other servants had filed back into the kitchen at some point, but they were giving both him and the raven a wide berth. One of them, a rather bedraggled pigeon, offered Ori a sympathetic smile as their eyes chanced to meet. Ori managed to return the expression, but nothing was said. Even the chef was keeping his orders and tantrums more muted than usual.

“Everet.”

For a moment, Ori thought it might have been Raynard’s voice that had echoed through the kitchens, but it wasn’t. The hawk hadn’t come back. Ori stayed very still as he waited for the message to be relayed, but whatever it was, it must have been communicated in nothing more than a look.

Everet stepped away from the cabinet. “Follow me.”

Turning off the taps and hastily drying his hands, Ori trailed after the raven. The messenger mumbled something to Everet when he reached the kitchen door, but the words were too hushed for Ori to catch.

“Come on.” The raven set off again, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure his charge hadn’t fallen too far behind.

Everet led him out of the communal areas of the club that all the species had access to and up a grand staircase toward the more exclusive sections of the establishment. It took more courage than Ori had known he possessed to keep going, to keep wading even farther into increasingly unfamiliar and luxurious territory.

The dining rooms and meeting rooms on the ground floor had taken his breath away when he’d first visited the nest. He wasn’t sure what he’d have made of these higher corridors if he’d seen them on that initial visit. On each side of him, portraits stared down. Back then, he’d probably have thought they were of wealthy aristocrats, their tamed birds of prey flying in the background.

Now, it was obvious that each portrait merely showed two sides of the same man, and there was nothing tame about the birds of prey who filled the topmost perches of the shifter hierarchy.

Ori took a deep breath and pushed forward, his bare feet making no sound on the thick carpeting. Everet reached a mahogany door at the far end of the corridor and knocked firmly on the dark panelling.

“Enter.”

Everet pushed the door open and nodded for Ori to step inside. A moment later, the raven pulled the door closed without joining Ori in the room. Ori found himself in what looked like some sort of office, albeit an incredibly expensive one.

Mr. Hamilton sat behind a huge desk on the other side of the room. He glanced across at Ori. Sharp blue eyes pinned him in place until Mr. Hamilton lost interest in him and turned his attention back to where Raynard sat on the opposite side of the desk. The hawk didn’t even look over his shoulder to see who had entered the room.

Stepping to one side of the door, Ori waited patiently, inconspicuous and out of everyone’s way, until one of the birds of prey had some use for him.

“He’s obviously not suited to the position as things stand,” Raynard bit out, each word clipped and angry.

Ori had never heard anyone speak to Mr. Hamilton that way. The eagle who ran the club was years older than Raynard, his hair already greying around his temples where Raynard’s was still deep brown, but their ranks obviously made them equals.

Then Raynard’s actual words sunk in to Ori’s mind.
Not suited to the position.
He lowered his gaze to the patch of carpet directly in front of his feet. He had been right then, he was going to be dismissed?

Thoughts tumbled through his head as he tried to work out where he might go. If they paid him off, he could probably find somewhere. But there was no reason to believe they would. They hadn’t paid him up to this point, when they’d seemed to find his service at least vaguely acceptable.

“Do you really think he’d do better in your house?” Mr. Hamilton asked, each word tinged with his rich Scottish burr.

Ori’s gaze snapped up. He stared unbelieving at the back of Raynard’s head.

“Yes.” No explanation. No justification. Just the answer. Raynard had made his decision, and he obviously didn’t expect anyone to argue with him—not even an eagle.

Mr. Hamilton smiled slightly. “Your time away from this nest hasn’t changed you in the faintest, has it?”

“Is there any reason why it should have?” Raynard asked.

Mr. Hamilton shook his head at him, but the slight twist of his lips still lingered. It died only when he moved his attention to Ori. “Come here.”

Raynard glanced over his shoulder as Ori stepped forward to stand a pace behind the hawk’s chair, and two feet to his right.

“Yes, sir?”

“Mr. Raynard is offering you a position in his house. You’d be his personal servant, answerable to him in all matters,” the eagle informed him.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’d remain under his care until you come back to us to complete your first full shift when you come of age.”

“Yes, sir,” Ori repeated.

Mr. Hamilton glanced at Raynard before he went on, his accent thickening a little as his tone turned even more serious.

“This isn’t an easy position—you’ll be expected to work just as hard for Mr. Raynard as you do here—more so, probably. And there would be no limits put upon what Mr. Raynard could expect from you or on the ways he could discipline you if your service is not up to the standard he requires. You’d belong to him completely.”

“Yes, sir,” Ori managed again.

Mr. Hamilton looked him over one more time. “Your answer, then—you accept the position?”

“Yes, sir.” The words were out so quickly, Ori didn’t have time for any second thoughts.

Mr. Hamilton nodded, just once. “The paperwork will be drawn up. Go to your quarters. Change out of your uniform and gather your belongings before returning here.”

“Yes, sir.”

The two birds of prey turned their attention back to each other, neither bothering to actually dismiss him. Ori backed away as unobtrusively as possible, before turning and walking silently from the room.

Everet still stood outside the door in his seemingly habitual pose—his arms crossed and his back resting against any convenient surface. He stopped staring into the middle distance when he noticed Ori.

Ori hesitated. “I’m to go to my quarters and change my clothes, sir.”

The raven nodded and strode off down the corridor. He paused when he realised Ori wasn’t following him.

“They didn’t say you had to come with me, sir.”

“Raynard said to watch you. He hasn’t told me to stop.”

Ori looked down. Arguing with a raven wouldn’t do him any good. The truth was his only option. “I don’t have official quarters. I’ve been staying in the servants’ area behind the kitchens, sir.”

Everet’s expression remained impassive. He stepped to one side of the corridor and nodded for Ori to pass him. “Lead the way.”

“Yes, sir.”

They soon left the luxury of the upper floors behind. With every step Ori took, his heart raced a little faster, until he was sure it would explode from his chest, no doubt making another mess that would need to be cleaned up before his duties were finished for the day.