Watcher: A raven paranormal romance (Crookshollow ravens Book 1) (20 page)

A
fter watching
Mikael’s lifeless body being wheeled into the morgue, I dared a journey back to the Crooks Crossing churchyard. Of course, Gillespie and his servants were no longer there. The lid of the sarcophagus had been replaced, and the tomb thoroughly cleaned, as though they had never been there at all. I had no idea where Sir Thomas was hiding now, but I knew it would not be long now until he went to visit Morchard. If he found Byron, I’d be dead, and so would Belinda.

I was returning to Raynard Hall just as Alex’s car was pulling up the drive. Odd. They shouldn’t be coming back from the bakery yet. And they had two other passengers in the backseat – the curvy Elinor who I’d seen in the bakery talking to Belinda, and another girl with bright blue hair. I flew down from the eaves and settled on the front step, tapping the ground with my beak to get them to hurry up.

Belinda stepped out of the car, her head hung low. Her eyes were red, and her skin puffy. She’d been crying.
What happened? Is she hurt?

I flew down to the front step and landed hard as my injured leg collapsed beneath me. The pain flared through my body, the pulsing ring sending out waves of agonising fire. Ignoring the pain as best I could, I forced a shift. A few seconds later I was sitting naked on the step, in my human form. I started to get up to go to Belinda, but Ryan held up his hand to stop me.

“Just because she doesn’t mind your naked body doesn’t mean I have to be subjected to it.” Ryan moved to the back of the car and opened the boot.

“I have to see Belinda.” I growled, striding toward him.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you.” Alex licked her lips.

“Or me,” said Elinor.

“My house, my rules.” Ryan tossed me a pair of shorts, which I obligingly pulled on. Elinor and the blue-haired girl made pouting faces at each other. As I walked around the car to Belinda, I peered into the boot. “You have a whole wardrobe in here? Are you on
Project Runway
?”

Ryan laughed. “No, I just like to keep spares on hand in case I need to shift in a pinch. I even have clothes stashed around the village and all through the forest, in case I’m caught somewhere.”

“Clever.” It didn’t surprise me – vulpines were always clever. Belinda looked up at me, forcing a smile. I took one look at her stricken face and ran to her, throwing my arms around she collapsed against me, her whole body sagging. “What happened?”

“The bakery,” she sniffed, burying her head in my shoulder. “It’s destroyed.”

“What?”

“It’s true,” Alex said. Briefly she explained what they’d seen when they opened the bakery, and what the police had said. Belinda buried herself deeper into my shoulder, her whole body racked with silent sobs.

I helped her up the steps to the door, my blood boiling with rage. Belinda looked so deflated, like a balloon that had been pierced with a pin. She was exactly the opposite from the way she looked last night. I gritted my teeth as I waited for Ryan’s butler to arrive at the door. I needed to get Belinda alone so I could assure her that whoever did this was going to have his throat ripped out.

“That bakery was my life,” she choked between sobs. “It was the only thing that was keeping me going, and now it’s gone.”

This is all your fault.
My mind nagged at me. A wave of guilt eradicated the rage in my blood.
If you hadn’t got her involved in this, then she would still have her business, and her life.

“I’ll get the person who did this to you,” I said, picturing the smirking face of Victor Morchard crumpling as I pounded it to a pulp. The image made me feel slightly better about the guilt tugging at my heart.

“He hates me this much,” she sobbed. “That’s the only reason he would do this.”

“Who would do this?”

“Ethan.”

“I don’t think your ex did this.” I told her, rubbing her shoulders.

“Of course he did. He wants to take everything from me. You don’t understand how he thinks, but I do. I deserve this. I’m such an awful person, that’s why he hates me. It’s all my fault.”

What? Is she serious?

“No, hush.” I pulled her hands from her eyes. “Look at me. You can’t talk like that. You are the exact opposite of an awful person. You are wonderful, and kind, and incredibly beautiful. And hot as fuck.”

She scoffed. “Whatever. If I’m so kind and beautiful and wonderful, then why did he leave me? Why did he take everything from me?”

The words stung, the fact she was still thinking about him, still caring what
he
thought. That thieving bastard had really done a number on Belinda’s psyche. I gripped her chin between my fingers, pulling her face up so she could see my face. She kept her eyes cast downward. The rivers of tears streaming down her cheeks turned my blood hot with anger, burning through the pain that tried to pull me back to my master. The idea that Belinda thought so little of herself hurt more than all the pain Victor Morchard could inflict.

“You want to know why? Because he’s an arsehole, and he’s lucky I haven’t caught up with him yet, because I would stick my boot so far up his arse people will think Doc Martens have started making hats. Don’t for a second let that bastard dictate how you feel about yourself. You are an
amazing
person, Belinda. You rescued a bird in danger, you took in a man who needed a place to crash, you treated me with dignity and respect even though I’m no more than a slave. You battled through all your troubles with extreme resilience, you even put up with that idiotic kid out of some kind of grim obligation. But you don’t have to do it on your own anymore. I’m not going to let you. As soon as you and I are both safe, we are going to get your store back, and we are going to do something about those debts. You deserve your life back, Belinda. And I promise you I will do everything in my power to ensure you get it.”

She looked up at me then, her eyes such intense orbs of despair, that I had to do something to bring her back from the brink of darkness. I wasn’t very good at saying the right thing, but I knew one thing I could do.

I pressed my lips to hers, and prised her mouth open, thrusting my tongue inside. I poured all of my passion for her into the kiss, trying to show her how I felt about her.

Slowly, the tension in Belinda’s body slipped away, and she kissed me back with ferocious intensity. She wrapped her arms around me, burying her fingers in my hair, a little mewling noise emitting from the back of her throat.

Behind me, I could hear the other girls clapping and whistling. As much as I liked an audience, I didn’t think they’d want to see what I was about to do to Belinda. I picked Belinda up and carried her unsteadily through the labyrinth of halls to our rooms, my mouth never leaving hers and my hard-on slapping impatiently against my thigh the entire way. My leg twinged with every step, and the ring pulsed angrily, but I was getting good at ignoring them both, especially when she was in my arms.

I kicked open the door to Belinda’s room, and manoeuvred her inside. I tossed her on the bed. She bounced a little on the soft mattress. I leaned over her, loving the way her hair fanned out around her delicate face, and smothered her with kisses. She wrapped her legs around my body, pulling me against her, grinding her pelvis against my engorged cock. Christ, that was hot. I tore off her shirt, revealing her beautiful body. She kicked off her own shorts, and leaned back against the covers, begging me with her eyes to follow.

I pulled off my own clothes and slipped on a condom. It took only moments to remove Belinda’s bra and panties, and then I was looking down at that stunning woman in all her naked beauty once more.

I could see in Belinda’s eyes that this wasn’t the time to be tender. She didn’t want the space to think about what was happening. She just wanted to
be
. That I could provide for her. I flipped her over onto her front and pushed her legs apart with my knee. I grabbed her thighs and pulled her back, impaling her on my cock with one powerful thrust.

“Oh, Cole!” she cried out, tossing her head back as I ploughed into her. She gripped the bedsheets and pushed her hips back against me, grinding herself against my cock with incredible force. I loved this view, kneeling on the bed and looking down at her writhing body, her black hair tossing wildly across her silken back as she pushed back against each thrust.

I leaned over her, steadying my body with one hand while I thrust the other beneath her. I took her nipple between my fingers and twisted it. She cried out, biting into my arm and growling between her teeth.

“Too hard?” I whispered in her ear, concerned I had hurt her.

“No, I want more. Harder!” Belinda cried, her shoulders tensing as she slammed her pelvis back against mine.
If you insist.
I twisted the other nipple. Belinda ground back against me, tossing her head back, and presenting me with her bare neck. I bit down on her shoulder as I continued to twist her nipple, and she growled again.

“You like it hard?” I growled in her ear.

“I love it!” she moaned back, her walls tightening around my cock as her body responded. “More!”

I was right about Belinda. She had a hidden dirty-girl side, and now that girl had come out to play.

Belinda bucked against me, her moans growing louder, more urgent. I reached around further and touched my fingers to her clit. “Yes, Cole, yes!” she cried, grinding against me as I stimulated her. Her orgasm came quickly, her whole body shuddering as her walls contracted around me, squeezing me inside her. The sensation was so hot I almost sent myself over the edge. I stopped thrusting for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before I continued.

I liked this girl. I liked her a
lot
.

Even though she’d just come, Belinda continued to grind herself against my cock, pushing me as deep as I could go. I sat up again and gripped her thighs, stroking her shapely ass as I watched myself thrust inside her.

I stroked my fingers over her skin, then lightly slapped each cheek, loving the sound my hand made as it connected with her flesh. Belinda gasped with pleasure, encouraging me to explore her further. I pushed my fingers against her sex, coating them with her juices, then ran them along her crack, pulling apart her cheeks and stroking the edge of her back hole, gently, slowly. I didn’t know if she was into this.

“Yes!” she screamed.

I guess she is into this.
Grinning, I slipped one finger inside. Belinda gasped again, and rammed herself against me so hard I nearly fell off the bed. I leaned forward slightly, pushing my other hand beneath her, finding her clit. I stoked her with one hand as I pushed my other finger deeper inside her. I couldn’t keep my thrusts as powerful, but she ground back against me, pleasuring herself as I stimulated her from all sides. In a few minutes, she was coming again, her screams loud enough to shake the windows.

This girl.
I couldn’t get enough of her.

Dirty Belinda was not done yet. She leaned her head against the bed and shoved her hands between our legs. At first I thought she was stimulating herself, but she ran her fingers over my balls, pulling them slightly, causing a little tenderness that only fuelled my desire. I pulled my finger from her and grabbed her thighs again, guiding her in a steady rhythm. She leaned back further and used one finger to stroke the sensitive skin that stretched between my balls and arse. Every time I pulled out and thrust into her, she would stroke that skin.

My own orgasm built quickly, the heat emanating from my core. I wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer.

“You should stop doing that,” I growled in her ear. “If you want this to last longer. I’m so close right now.”

In response, she dragged her nail across that skin again.

“Ooooooh fuck!”
I cried out as I came hard, harder than I ever had before. My body spasmed against hers, my fingers digging into her thighs as I held her still so I could pump into her. Belinda cried out as a final orgasm hit her at the same time.

I saw stars. Bright lights swam in front of my eyes. My head spun, the room disappeared. The pain in my body faded away. I lost all sense of why I was or where I was. All that existed was the pleasure that coursed through my body, an intense heat that almost burned me up, it was so powerful.

Wow.
I had never come like
that
before.

As the fire in my body started to fade, and the lights in my eyes disappeared, I collapsed against the bed, utterly spent. The pain crept back, coursing through my veins and poisoning the beauty of the moment. I pulled Belinda against my body, wrapping my arms around her. I wanted to be as close to her as I could get. I kissed a line down the side of her cheek, breathing in the exquisite smell of her.

“Thank you, Cole.” She gripped my arm with her hands, her eyes fluttering closed. “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome,” I whispered in her ear. As I cuddled with her, running my hands over her gorgeous skin, I realised that this hadn’t been a selfless act, not really. I wanted to make her feel better, to forget her pain for a while. But more than that, I was trying to drive out my guilt with my cock. And I hadn’t succeeded. I may have satisfied her, but I hadn’t got her shop back. I hadn’t made her life any more safe. In all aspects except one, I was coming up short. I’d done nothing to show I was worthy of her.

Belinda was a beautiful angel, and I was the worst kind of bastard.

B
y the time
we emerged from the bedroom, Elinor and Bianca were already lounging comfortably in one of the drawing rooms, a bottle of wine lying empty between them. Two sleeping cats sprawled out across the rug in front of the fire. The girls clapped as we entered the room, and I turned a deep shade of red.

“I see the Chairman has made a new friend already,” I knelt down beside the cats and stroked them both. Chairman raised his head as if to say, “I could get used to this,” then flopped back down in front of the fire.

Alex set Elinor and Bianca up with rooms in the same wing as mine. Cole pointed out in his tactful way that they should take the rooms on the end of the hallway, as far from ours as possible. Elinor gave me an amused look and I turned even more horrifically crimson.

Having my girlfriends in the house was great. They distracted me from the overwhelming sadness at losing my shop. Alex and Bianca took over Ryan’s designer kitchen and made a batch of rocky road slice. Despite my being the baking expert, they refused to let me help. Instead, Elinor and I opened another bottle of wine, painted each other’s nails and giggled our way through the latest Hugh Grant film on Ryan’s enormous TV. Chairman Meow – bored of the fire now – spent fifteen minutes cautiously sniffing his way around the drawing room, and then curled up inside the liquor cabinet. Cole and Ryan retreated to the study where they could talk about shifter things.

Eventually, Simon kicked the girls out of the kitchen so he could make the dinner. We sat down to a beautiful meal of herb-crusted salmon and lemon-roasted vegetables. After dinner Elinor curled up in the study with her phone to talk to Eric – who was recording the new Ghost Symphony album at a studio in London – while everyone else poured wine and played some kind of rude card game that was all the rage. The Chairman claimed a large velvet chair in the corner, and Miss Havisham sat regally atop the back of Alex’s chair, as though it were a throne – they both spent the remainder of the evening casting judgement upon all of us, as only cats can do.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Cole asked hopefully as I finished my sixth glass of wine. “Things have become a little crowded in here. I’d like to talk to you alone.”

I rubbed my eyes, suddenly overcome with weariness. I really had to get some sleep, but I couldn’t say no to Cole. At least I didn’t have to get up at three thirty the next morning—

No.
I didn’t want to think about it. If I started worrying about the bakery, I’d never get any sleep.
Cole.
He was a good distraction.

“Sure,” I said.

We wandered out through the French doors to the gardens. Ryan followed us, slumping into one of the deck chairs with a glass of Scotch in his hand. “Don’t mind me, I like to come out and enjoy the moonlight.”

“We won’t,” Cole growled, bending down to kiss me roughly. My heart clenched as I bent up to return the kiss. How was it he managed to make me forget my problems so completely?

“Come on,” Cole grabbed my hand and pulled me down the steps at the end of the patio. I jogged after him between the flowerbeds as we moved toward the large stone fountain in the middle of the round pool that formed the focal point of the garden.

“Don’t go too far,” Ryan called after us. “You’re being watched.”

I whirled around, my heart leaping in my chest as I searched for some sinister looking villain. “I thought this place was protected by charms.”

Ryan grinned. “It is.” He pointed up at the stone statue of the goddess Diana that fed the fountain. I could just make out the silhouette of a dark shape perched on the statue’s shoulder.

The bird turned to us, and let out a menacing
croak
.

I cried out and leapt back. Cole grabbed me, his strong arms wrapping tight around me. His breath was hot against my ear. “Don’t worry. It’s only Byron. Ryan has allowed him to enter the protected area of the house. He’s making good on his promise to watch out for me.”

I relaxed a little. “He’s a good brother, then.”

“If you say so.” Cole glared at the bird as we walked around the edge of the fountain, heading toward the darkened forest.

“What is this animosity between the two of you?”

Cole sighed. “Do you really want to know?”

“Of course I do. I want to understand.”

“Byron is the older of us, by five years. He’s always resented me running around after him. To him, I was just this annoying kid who ruined all his fun. It got worse after my father died, and as my mother got sicker and sicker. He just didn’t want to be around us, so he would go off with Pax and Poe, and I would be stuck keeping her company.” He saw my face. “Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t mind staying with my mother. I loved her dearly. She was such a genuinely kind person. You remind me of her.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.” I beamed.

“It is the highest compliment. Anyway, after a couple of years, my mother’s illness got so bad she couldn’t work any longer. She wasn’t able to shift to her human form, and her bones started to fuse together. She couldn’t unfurl her wings or bend her neck. It was awful to watch.”

“Oh, Cole. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” he stared off into the distance. “I’m sorry, too. Morchard, of course, couldn’t bear to have a Bran that wasn’t performing, so he took her into his aviary. At first, he kept up a pretence he was trying to cure her, and I believed him, because I was a fool. I visited her every day when I could get away from my duties, and despite all the drugs Morchard gave her, she got worse and worse. It was so bad she could hardly speak. She couldn’t move. She was trapped inside her own skin.”

To watch someone you love go through that … it must have been awful. I squeezed Cole’s hand, tears forming in the edges of my eyes.

“I believe now that Morchard was deliberately keeping her sick and immobile, so he could extract samples from her and experiment while she was still alive. But, of course, I have no proof of that. I thought he was helping her.” He spat bitterly. “One afternoon, he summoned me and Byron to his laboratory. I came right away, but Byron didn’t. He was off with Pax and Poe. Morchard said she was dying. I sat with her for hours, holding her wing and stroking her, waiting for the end, waiting for Byron to show up to say goodbye. But he never did.”

“Shit.” That explained a lot. Byron was the older brother. He was supposed to protect Cole from that kind of pain. But he had deserted Cole when he needed him most, and Cole couldn’t forgive him. I suspected Byron probably hadn’t forgiven himself.

“Yeah.”

A cold silence descended between us. I searched for something else to say, but couldn’t think.

“Please, don’t think of it anymore.” Cole said. “Don’t let Byron destroy our evening.”

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t dare.”

When we were clear of the raised beds and topiaries, Cole grabbed my hand. A warm jolt flicked up my arm. I turned to him and gave a small smile.

“This is nice,” I said. What I really meant was,
kiss me.
I wet my lips, gazing up at him expectantly.

But if Cole understood the message, he didn’t act on it. He stared down at his feet. “I’m so sorry about your bakery.”

I didn’t want to think about it now, out here with him. “It’s OK. It’s not your fault.”

“Did you really see your ex across the street the other night? I wish you had said something.”

“I don’t know what I saw. That’s exactly why I didn’t mention it. It
can’t
be Ethan. He wouldn’t be so stupid as to show up here and do this. At least, I wouldn’t have thought so. It’s not his style. It’s a bit … sloppy.”

“That what I was afraid of.” Cole rubbed the line of stubble along his chin. “And that black feather you found was clearly a message. The only thing I can’t figure out is who it’s a message from. Is it Thomas Gillespie, telling me that he knows where you are, and if I don’t submit to him, he’ll hurt you? Or is it Morchard, telling you that he knows you’ve been hiding me? Or is it someone else with some skin in this game who hasn’t made their presence known yet?”

The same questions had been running around my head all afternoon, but I was no closer to solving them. “I don’t want to think about it right now. We’re safe here, for now. Ryan will try to locate Gillespie in the morning. Maybe we can sort this all out without any more violence.”

“I highly doubt that.” Cole squeezed my hand extra tight. “I just want to keep you safe.”

“I’m safe here with you. Now, please. Can we talk about something else?” The night air blew a cool breeze across my skin. I laced my fingers into Cole’s. He ran his thumb over my knuckles, and I loved the way that simple touch made my heart skip.

“Very well. What made you want to open a bakery?”

Now that one I could answer. “When I was a kid, my dad travelled a lot for work. He’s white, born in Surrey. He was an executive at a mobile phone company, so we were quite well off. My mother was his PA.” Cole gave me an amused look. I shrugged. “You’re right. It’s exactly what it sounds like. She was twelve years his junior. She’d arrived in England from China with nothing but the clothes on her back and the determination to work hard and find herself a husband to look after her. It was quite the office scandal when their affair became public, but they were madly in love. After they got married, Mum decided to give up her career and stay home to manage the house and look after me. Lots of the other executive kids had nannies, but not me. I had Mum. She didn’t miss the office at all. She even home-schooled me for a time, and she was always coming up with fantastic outings and games for me.

“Before she married Dad, she’d never even boiled an egg before, but she got really interested in cooking. We used to spend the day together knocking up scones and cakes. She taught me Chinese recipes her mother used to make for her, but we both preferred the heavy, hearty English food and baking. Dad would take the leftovers into work and tell everyone proudly what his daughter had created. I loved spending that time with my mum, and I loved the way fresh-baked bread and pies smelled, and I loved it that my dad was so proud of what I’d done, I guess.”

“Your parents sound wonderful.”

“Do they?” My head snapped up. I’d been lost in the memory. I’d almost forgotten he was there. “I suppose they were, at least in the beginning. But it didn’t last. When I was ten, my dad got ousted during a company restructure, and he struggled to find another job. My mum had to go back to work, so that was the end of the home cooking. We were a takeout and nanny family, just like everyone else. My parents were always tired and always fighting, mostly about money. I think my mum resented my dad for losing his job and forcing her back to work, and my dad resented Mum for making him feel bad.

“Our house was such a toxic place to be. I couldn’t stand it. I had to do something, to try to get it back to the way things were. So I took over in the kitchen. I started doing all the cooking. I packed them both lunches every day. After a while my mum just handed me the grocery money each month. I saved them a lot of money on crappy takeout, but I couldn’t save their marriage.”

“Oh, Belinda. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.” I said, tears brimming in the corners of my eyes. Great, I was crying about everything today.

“It’s good to talk. It gets the blood flowing for all the other things we’re going to get up to tonight.” Cole brushed his lips across mine, sending a shiver of desire through my body. “What happened next?”

“They divorced when I was fifteen. Dad stayed in London, and Mum moved us to Crookshollow, where her mother now lived. I finished up school here, went to culinary school in London, came back, met Ethan, opened the shop, got my heart ripped out. Mum met Gary,” I made a face. “He’s twenty-six years older than her. She got Botox. They moved to Liverpool and live in one of those houses that looks like it belongs on
Footballers Wives.
She hired a cook and got one of those little yappy dogs. I don’t really see her that much.”

“You sound disappointed in her.”

I shrugged. “I guess. I just … she’s so different now. I guess I wonder if this was how she always was, and her old playfulness was a show for my benefit. Dad’s no different. He started his own company, doing telecom for corporate clients. He has a string of young, leggy blonde girlfriends.”

“Can I ask a really personal question?” Cole squeezed my hand again, placing his other hand on top of my fingers.

“I might not answer.” It was hard to stay guarded when he touched me like that.

“When Ethan took all your stuff, why didn’t you go to your parents for help? They both sound as though they’re relatively well off. I’m sure they’d be happy to help you—”

I shook my head so vigorously I wrenched my neck. I winced. “No. I have to do this myself.”

“Why?”

“Because. I just do. Can we please change the subject?” I noticed he was leaning heavily on one leg. The leg that hadn’t been injured. “I haven’t asked you how your leg is doing today. Is it feeling better?”

“It’s fine.”

“You sound so sincere.”

Cole showed me his finger. It looked tiny compared to his other fingers; the skin had shrivelled up, and was turning black. I held my hand near the glowing ring, feeling the heat rise from that mysterious metal surface. I sucked in my breath, unable to understand how he was standing upright still. The pain must be excruciating.

“I hardly even think about my leg,” Cole said. “With this on my finger, sending stabbing pain through my body every few moments.”

“How do you stand it?”

“I have to, so I do.” Cole pulled his hand away. “It is a small price to pay to be with you.”

Tears sprang in my eyes at the thought of him enduring this for me. “Cole, we have to do something. You’ll lose your finger.”

“Nightingale, it’s OK.” He held my arm with his good hand. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m here to look after
you.
”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who heard that poor, hurt raven crying for help, or its pathetic whining when I cleaned its wound.”

“I didn’t whine, and I can fly just fine.”