Call of the Raven (8 page)

Moving to the back windshield, he repeated
the process only to shake his head in uncertainty. He rubbed his
hands together to regain some warmth as Kennedy watched him for
signs.

“Well he’s not here but his phone is next to
his briefcases and his coat is lying on the backseat.”

Kennedy looked around in any direction that
Ari may have gone. “He doesn’t like to drive with his coat on
because the bottom rubs against the dirty floor mat,” she said,
“but he wouldn’t have gone on foot without it.”

She closed her eyes, inhaled deep and Nixon
saw the lines in her face relax. “I don’t smell any blood, but I’m
picking up something other than Ari. I can’t explain it though. My
senses are all mixed up. Maybe it’s the snow masking things.”

“Yeah, I picked them up too,” he said.

“Them?” Kennedy titled her head back and
sniffed the wind trying to determine the scent. Nixon ignored her
for now and rubbed the sides of his arms. He tried the door again
but it didn’t budge. He found it odd that Ari would have taken the
time to lock the car, if perhaps he had been abducted. He examined
the ground for any signs of Ari that she might have missed.

The snow was falling at a steady speed and
their tracks were all but gone. Even as a tiger and a falcon, they
would have a hard time tracking in this storm. Shivering, Nixon set
his gaze on Kennedy. This time he didn’t try to disguise his
apprehension.

“What’s going on?” she seriously asked. “What
aren’t you telling me? What did you mean by
them
?”

Nixon shook his head. “I think Ari might be
in trouble.”

“You think?” Kennedy pointed at the car
smashed against the tree. “What possibly gave you that idea?” She
threw her arms up in surrender. “Come on Nixon, what’s really going
on?”

“The scent you can’t explain belongs to
fowlers. They change so much, it’s hard to maintain their nature.
Only another fowler like me can pick them up.”

She scrunched her face, and gauged his
expression. “You’re the only fowler I know,” she said.

“Fowlers keep a low profile but that doesn’t
mean they don’t exist. There were a few at the pub last night. They
claim Asher expelled them from the Union for no apparent reason
seven years ago, and according to how hard they swung at me, I’d
say they’re still pretty pissed about it.”

Kennedy disbelievingly shook her head back
and forth. “You believe fowlers took Ari to get back at Asher?”

“What I’m saying is the fowlers might have
somehow caused Ari’s wreck. Come on, I’ll tell you the rest later.
Right now we’re gonna freeze if we don’t get inside. And in that I
mean me.”

Nixon started back up the embankment with
Kennedy following behind him. When she began to slide back down, he
stopped and extended a hand that she clasped firmly in her own.
Suddenly a very impulsive idea flashed in his head.

Pulling her up too fast and too forceful gave
her little chance to compose herself. As her body smashed into his,
her mouth opened in a startled intake of breath, which Nixon took
advantage of and kissed her hard on the lips. The warmth of her
sent a shiver through his frozen body. He felt her stiffen
unresponsively, and the longer he delayed in releasing her, the
angrier she grew. Squaring her hands on his chest she pushed free
of him.

“You taste like alcohol.” Instinctively, she
lifted a hand, preparing to strike but Nixon had no intentions of
getting hit again this night—not in his dreams or in real life.
Roughly he grabbed her by the wrist and pushed her backward.
Slipping, Kennedy fell on her bottom near the side of the road and
instantly her eyes flashed to him. Mixed within her shock, he saw
that he had hurt her both physically
and
emotionally. Guilt,
suddenly wiped away anything smart he had planned to say.

“I’m sorry Kennedy.” He walked toward her.
“You know I didn’t mean that. It’s just something inbred in me. I
can’t help it. You shouldn’t have tried to hit me.”

“You shouldn’t have kissed me.”

“I’m sorry.” Nixon smiled. She swung her head
in response so he smiled all the wider. “Okay, I’m not but I swear
I won’t do something like that again. I took advantage of the
situation, and well… it was wrong.”

“Nixon,” she breathed, “you’re still
smiling.”

“Can’t help it, just be thankful you got an
apology from me, most girls don’t.”

“I’m not sure what bothers me most about that
statement.” She narrowed her eyes. “The fact that girls feel you
should apologize after kissing them or the fact you’re so obviously
a man whore.”

He slapped a hand over his chest, feigning
hurt. “Kennedy, don’t say such things.” Slowly he moved to stand
over her, this time doing his best not to smile, but it was there
all the same tugging at the corner of his lips. “Am I
forgiven?”

Even though she was frowning, she nodded.
“Just don’t try something like that again. Ouch,” she groaned.
“What is this?” She pulled something out from under her bottom and
held it up for him to see. Nixon moved closer. He had no clue what
it was but it looked like some sort of shield or badge. “The pin
stuck me in my right cheek,” she complained.

“Let’s have a look,” he said. Kennedy’s eyes,
innocent and round flashed upwards to his. “I meant the badge,” he
laughed. She relaxed and even spared him a sheepish grin of
embarrassment. He ran his thumb over the cold metal. Not only did
the emblem in the center seem familiar, it sent his senses into
alert status.

Changing his eyes to that of a hawk, Nixon
used his bird instincts to search the woods around them.

“Nixon, what is it?” Instead of using her own
skills to conduct a much better search of the area, Kennedy watched
him. He could make out the skeletal branches of trees and brush,
but nothing that wasn’t supposed to be in the woods in the middle
of a snowstorm. Still…even in the quiet of winter he could feel it,
the watching, stalking and waiting eyes of his father.

“Nothing,” he said and slipped the badge into
the pocket of his jeans. “Let’s go. Asher will want to know what we
found.”

“You don’t think we should try and track Ari
ourselves?”

Once again, Nixon extended his hand but this
time Kennedy grunted and slapped it away. He figured he deserved it
but the fact his fingers were half frozen made them sting all the
more. He stuck both hands under his arm pits to try and gain some
feeling. When she stood in front of him, he boldly looked her in
the eyes, which is something he seldom did. And the fact he was,
caused her to wrinkle her brow in suspicion.

“I know you’re worried and despite what you
think I’m worried too, but so is Asher,” he told her. “The truth of
the matter is they’re spiritually linked and if Asher would just
stop resisting Ari, he could probably hear him. Besides, I can tell
Asher’s really worried about him.”

“Then you believe Asher really does care for
Ari?”

“In his own odd way, yeah.” Nixon seriously
took her hand in his and lightly kissed the top of her knuckles.
“See that wasn’t so bad now was it?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky I didn’t
deck you.”

“Come on,” he winked, “let’s change. It will
make the trip back warmer and faster.”

Kennedy quickly agreed, “But keep your talons
to yourself.”

Letting a flirtatious smirk cross his lips,
Nixon licked them very slowly. “I make no such promises.”

Kennedy started to say something but Nixon
changed into his falcon form and flew away. He wanted to talk to
Asher alone. When he reached the manor Nixon spotted Asher opening
the dining room window, so he flew inside. Miscalculating his speed
he hit the long table and fell off the end, transforming back just
as his body landed in something wet and cold.

Instantly Nixon’s nose was assaulted by the
strong scent of pine cleaner, and something else just as equally
repulsive. With the booming qualities of Asher’s laughter
resounding in the quiet house, he slowly walked toward Nixon. Asher
was in full Aikido gear—white wraparound jacket, ranking black belt
around his waist, black pleated trousers, and headband to keep his
hair out of his face, with the emblem of the Ki on the front.

Nixon smelled his hand. “Is this…pee?”

“Yes, according to the old healer I have the
ability of scaring it out of little children. I had the cook clean
it up but apparently she didn’t do a good job. Now,” Asher said,
lowering down on his haunches, “what did you find?”

“We found Ari’s car nose first in a ditch not
too far from here. It looked as though he might have hit his head
on the window,” Nixon explained. “But Kennedy didn’t pick up any
traces of blood.”

“Then he could be out there in this weather,
disoriented. You useless bird, didn’t you even try to track him?”
Asher stood and thoughtfully stared off in the direction of the
window.

Nixon sat up, crossed his legs in front of
him and ran his wet, pine smelling urine soaked hand along the dry
area of the rug which drew a growl of frustration from Asher. “I
didn’t see the point,” Nixon said. “I got into a bar fight last
night with a band of outcasts, of which three were fowlers. I lost,
but nonetheless they were still pretty pissed afterwards. Actually,
they were pissed at you—”

“Do you have a point?” Asher cut him off.

“The point is I smelled them on the wind, the
same fowlers from the bar near Ari’s car.”

Nixon noticed a familiar twitch of impatience
in Asher’s jaw. The one that he often got whenever he was trying to
hold on because he knew there was more to the story than the teller
was relaying, and then a light literally glowed in Asher’s weird
mood-ring eyes. They sparked red. Drawing his brows together he
looked down at him, and this time Nixon could tell that he was
putting thoughts together like the pieces of a puzzle of which the
picture wasn’t all that pretty.

“You wouldn’t have gotten into a fight on the
account of me because you don’t like me anymore than they do? So
tell me Nixon just what did they say that set you off?”

“They started ragging on Grant. They said he
had a child, a child with an outsider, but I know that’s not true.
We would have known about it.”

“Oh, you were just nine-years-old,” Asher
snapped irritably. “What makes you think he would have told
you?
”

Nixon lowered his eyes refusing to let Asher
see that he had inflicted a painful blow. But it was true. Despite
Grant’s kindness, Nixon knew the truth. Of everyone in the
household he had known Grant the least amount of time.

“Okay, so he might not have told me but he
would have told someone. Ari maybe. Grant wouldn’t have just left a
child, a shifter child out there in the world all alone.”

Asher suddenly turned his back on him. “What
else did they say?”

Nixon mentally replayed the conversation. He
had been checking out a cute blonde with an attitude at the bar so
he only got an occasional word but it was all too obvious they
wanted him to hear what they were saying.

“They mentioned Grant’s kid and maybe going
after him to prove a point. I thought they were just mouthing off.”
Nixon knew now what it was that bothered Asher. “You think he knows
don’t you and that’s why they took him? That’s why they took Ari.
Isn’t it, Asher?”

Asher faced him again. They both heard
Kennedy’s footsteps nearing. Nixon had wanted to spare her the news
about Grant. He hadn’t believed it possible, but Asher’s strange
reaction was causing him to have his doubts. With the same severity
as looking into the sun, Nixon boldly met Asher’s red gaze, and he
knew he was right.

With his back to the nearing Kennedy, Asher
took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He put a hand on his chin
in a thinking posture. He could often be theatrical when he saw
that it fit his purpose, and apparently this time Asher felt it
did.

“You said those men that provoked you were
outcasts. I find it ironic that the old healer mentioned at
breakfast there were outcasts in the hollow,” Asher said. “There’s
a place near the lake that Grant called Bear Hollow. I think I’ll
talk to the old man again and this time, actually pay
attention.”

“I’ll go after him once I change.” Nixon got up and
started toward Kennedy, and she started following behind him just
as he knew she would. When he reached the door Nixon looked back to
see that Asher had resumed his watch before the window so he called
his name. Asher didn’t turn around.

“You never leave so you’re not going to take off on
me or anything, right?” When Asher inclined his head, Nixon guessed
that was about as good of an answer as he was going to get.

He knew Kennedy wanted him to explain and that was
the only reason she was following him, so he talked as he hurried
up to the third floor to his room.

“Those guys last night at the bar just weren’t
picking a fight with me because I serve on the Pillar Council. I
can’t help but feel they were intentionally trying to start
something.”

Kennedy folded her arms across her chest as
he stopped outside his door. “Why were you even in a bar?”

“Well this bar is more like a pub. When Ari
dragged me to the office last month,” Nixon rationalized, “I got
bored so I decided to go for a walk around the city. I saw this pub
and thought I’d grab some lunch. That’s all there was to it.”

Nixon put his back to the door. He noticed
her eyes as they flecked down his body. Possibly he wasn’t as tall
as Asher or Ari but he never had a problem getting glances from the
babes, including the blonde at the bar. He had just thought to make
his move when all hell broke loose.

“Anyhow,” he said, “the owner’s brother is an
old friend of mine from school. He’s the one I told you about when
we were younger.”

“You mean the pig?”

Nixon tried to hide his surprise. He figured
she had long since forgotten. “Yeah, well his name’s Kurt and even
though he was older than me, he always took up for me on the
playground.”