Blood Claim by Laura Baumbach Angela Fiddler Jet Mykles

Author:Laura Baumbach, Angela Fiddler, Jet Mykles [Laura Baumbach, Angela Fiddler, Jet Mykles]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: MLR Press, LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Gift of the Raven

Angela Fiddler

The river was shallow here, which only made the currents cutting through the rocks by the shore all the stronger. A flood had carved out the edges of the banks, and the city had yet to rebuild the safe pathways, mini cement roads with dividing lines. The crumbling remains of the old path went in fits and starts down the new banks, and the fading remains of human interference left Luke feeling better than if there were no signs of humans at all.

It was quiet. Humans could take dark and cold, but combine them and even the roughest beat it to the safest, brightest lit path. The only creatures down here with him had four legs and the bright, piercing eyes of predators. The thermometer had taken a dive during the day. Luke felt it even deep in the basement of the house he'd taken as his. It wasn't just the smell of burning dust from the central heating kicking in; when the first delicate lines of ice had formed on the edge of the smallest puddle left over from the three days of rain, he'd felt it in his bones.

He exhaled, and his breath fogged around him. He wasn't as warm as he could have been; it had been at least a day since he'd fed, but it was a wholly human response to the change of season. It had been years—almost a century, now that he thought about it—since the last time he saw a flock of geese flying south, but the desire to trade his long, dark evenings for heat was so strong he felt his body sing with the need.

A bird screeched above him, the sound echoing against the trees and rocks around him. It wasn't Corbin, but one of his minions, Luke had no doubt. He would have felt Corbin, even in winged form. And sure enough, the silence had time to settle down around him before he heard the beating of wings just a little bigger than they ought to have been. Luke didn't crane his neck to see; Corbin was as black as an empty eye socket. The beating wings were just in front of him, but Luke didn't see Corbin until he landed and shifted, if that was the right word for abruptly becoming something else.

The world was various shades of gray under the bright moon, but Corbin reflected silver light. His black hair was short enough that the handsome shape of his skull was visible, and his green eyes were arctic when compared to his warm skin. He wore a black turtleneck, and jeans were tight on his ass. It wasn't hard to remember those details; it was what he always wore. The only concession he'd make for the seasons was the gauge of the cotton. That night was freezing, but Corbin still wore leather gloves that were as soft as a dying sigh. He never took them off, not even during sex, and the smell of them left Luke hard and yet still full of loathing.

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