Page 8 of Kick the Candle (Knight Games 2)
"Stellar. Now that you've named him, what will you do with him?"
My shoulders sagged, the magic hangover hitting me hard. I hugged my knees to my chest and closed my eyes.
"Drained you, huh?"
"To the porcelain bottom." I rubbed my eyes. "Do you know what ravens eat?"
"Not a clue, but that's why I have my old friend Mrs. Google." From her back pocket, she removed her phone and typed a few words into the search bar. "Ugh."
"What?"
"Listen to this. Ravens are omnivores eating whatever is easiest to catch, including the dead bodies of other animals, small living rodents, reptiles, other birds, and occasionally grains and berries. They will also eat maggots and animal poo."
"Eww," I said. "That's disgusting."
"I prefer baby goat, but don't knock maggots until you've tried them," Poe said, ignoring the way Michelle and I gaped in surprise at the deep tenor voice coming out of his throat. "They are surprisingly sweet and nutritious."
"The bird just spoke," I said.
"Yes. The big, scary bird just spoke to us in a muddled European accent."
"Do you have a problem with my accent? Because the east coast Jersey shore lilt you've acquired isn't exactly prizeworthy."
I snorted, covering my mouth with my hand.
"Oh, that's rich," Poe said, laughing low and dark. "Not exactly an aristocratic giggle you have. Did you snort like that before you became a witch or was the cause a spell gone bad? Because if it was the second, my condolences for the loss of your femininity."
Michelle wrapped an arm around my shoulders and helped me to my feet. "Um, Grateful, your familiar is a total ass."
"Yeah. I don't get it. The woman in the spell said he would be what I needed. I don't think I needed another smart-ass in my life. I have you."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
I nodded.
"So, about that young goat. I am feeling quite hungry. It doesn't have to be freshly born. A few days old is fine. If you open the window, I can find one myself."
I glanced toward the window, noticing the gray-toned sunset. Looked like a winter's storm was coming. Someone needed to tell Mother Nature it was still November. "Are you sure you can take care of yourself if I let you outside?" I turned toward the big black bird.
"Of course, dear witch. I may be new to you but I am no spring chicken." He cackled at his own joke, breaking into caws that didn't match his low, human-like voice.
"Do you think it's a good idea to set him loose on Red Grove, Grateful?" Michelle asked. "We hardly know him."
I pointed a hand toward the pressing night. "I've got to go see Rick," I said.
She groaned. "Right. You've got a job to do. You let Poe out. I'll get some paper towels to clean up the mess."
"You're the best."
"Sorry about the state of things," Poe said, tilting his head toward his excrement. "Blackberries. They're a habit really. Once you eat one..." His low laugh trailed off.
Michelle scrunched her eyes and stuck out her tongue in my direction.
"Sorry," I said, opening the window. Poe burst past me, taking to the cool November twilight like it was a long lost friend.
"Never mind. Go to work. I'll take care of it," Michelle said.
I could always count on Michelle. I closed the window and coasted down the stairs, lifting my black wool coat from the rack near the door. Down my driveway I raced, spilling out into the street. At a jog, I crossed the stone bridge, but before I even reached the door to Rick's cottage, his shirtless form moved from his porch. He could feel me coming, just as I could feel his need for me pulsing in the twilight. Eyes as black as his ebony waves, their natural gray was drowned out, a sign that his beast was close to the surface. The scar on his chest, the scar I had caused in my past life when I made him my eternal soul's vessel, was the only mar on the smooth, golden expanse of his skin.
