Nevermore (Raven Crawford Book 2) by J. C. McKenzie

Author:J. C. McKenzie [McKenzie, J. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

“Humanity I love you because when you’re hard up you pawn your intelligence to buy a drink.”

~ E. E. Cummings

Raven and Mike staggered into the cool night air from the back entrance of Dan’s Diner and let the heavy metal security door slam closed behind them. Mike turned to yank on the handle, tugging on it a few times. The door rattled, but the lock was engaged.

Good.

Night routine finished, they stepped from the lit platform and into the inky darkness.

“Man, I’m glad today’s over.” Mike slung his backpack onto his shoulder.

Before Raven moved back home, he’d ride his bike to work, but now he chose to leave it home so they could walk together.

“I’m glad we had the earlier shift. I can actually get some sleep.” She stretched side to side with her arms in the air.

Mike nodded. His phone pinged and he pulled it from his pocket as they walked down the alley toward the brightly lit street with fast moving traffic. Their shoes splashed in shallow puddles left by the recent rain.

Mike grimaced, the planes of his face barely discernable in the deep shadows.

“What is it?” she asked. Mike couldn’t hide the truth from his expression if she paid him to. He sucked at poker. His honesty was one of the things she loved most about her baby brother.

“Looks like your night isn’t over.” He turned his phone, the screen facing her.

The grainy camera feed showed Kelly leaving her house, face painted on and dressed for what looked like escort service.

Raven snorted. “Hurt her back at work, my ass.”

Mike grinned. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”

“Ugh.” This footage wasn’t enough to condemn Kelly, and dressing up and putting the girls on display didn’t necessarily mean she had joined an escort service. Hell, Raven had worn an outfit just as risqué to hit the clubs with Megan back in their early twenties. But…Raven hadn’t put in a fraudulent work injury claim.

“You’ll need to shift here if you want to catch her.” Mike glanced around and eyed the grimy alley. His lip curled down with the same disgust Raven felt. “I’ll take your things home.”

She sighed. This case might not end tonight. Her ravens couldn’t exactly snap a photo and the Canadian court system deemed any testimony from a shifter witnessed in their “altered” form inadmissible. Politicians still believed shifters lacked the ability to discern facts from fiction when they turned furry, despite all evidence supporting the truth. Haters.

Raven held her hand out and twirled her finger in the air. At least she no longer had to worry about leaving a loaded gun in her purse. After the alley attack, she’d given the sig back to Mom. She couldn’t afford to hesitate if or when someone else decided to come for her.

Mike turned and faced the busy end of the alley. He placed his hands on his hips as if to provide more cover than his lean frame. It helped.

She slipped off her clothes, tucked her underwear into her pants before folding them, and called the energy of the Underworld.

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