Sheri WhiteFeather

Never Look Back


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      “Okay.” Strange as he was, he was starting to grow on her. He smelled like Brylcreem, a men’s hair product that had been around since the ’50s. Her dad had used the goop, too.

      “I just moved here,” Daniel said as she crossed the threshold. “The landlord offered me a deal on the rent if I fixed it up. I already started on the inside.”

      Allie looked around. The chestnut-colored carpet and beige drapes were old, but she could tell that the walls held a fresh coat of paint. He’d decorated with light-toned woods, a tan couch and a leather recliner. A few leopard-print pillows were tossed in for good measure.

      It needed a bit more color, maybe a splash of red, but overall it wasn’t bad.

      “Do you want a soda?” he asked.

      “Sure.” She followed him into the kitchen, where ancient white appliances, a chipped sink and a vinyl floor with an avocado-green pattern from the ’70s had been scrubbed clean.

      He opened the fridge and handed her a generic cola. “I bought those peel-and-stick squares for the floor. But I haven’t had time to rip up this stuff yet.”

      She fought the urge to move closer to him, but she knew it wouldn’t ease her soul. The smell of his hair was making her homesick for her childhood, for the innocence that had been long since shattered.

      As silence engulfed them, he watched her flip the tab on her soda and take a drink. Allie wasn’t the self-conscious type, but his scrutiny was a bit too intense.

      “Why do you want to know about ravens?” he asked.

      “Because one flew in my window yesterday.”

      “No shit?”

      She nodded, repeating what she’d told Kyle, revealing only a portion of what had actually happened.

      He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Raven keeps the world from being boring.”

      “Did he create it?” she asked, inquiring about Haida beliefs.

      “In a sense.” Daniel shifted his weight. “But Raven is more of a transformer, a trickster, than a creator.”

      Her heart struck her chest. Last year, during all of the witch madness, she’d had dealings with Coyote, another Native American trickster. And those experiences weren’t the least bit pretty. But this was different, wasn’t it? Raven was her angel.

      “Did it bite you?” Daniel asked suddenly. “Is that what the bandage on your arm is from? Let me take a look at it.” He reached for her wrist.

      “It’s fine.” She pulled away from him, and when she did, she caught a dark shadow outside his kitchen window.

      In the shape of a big, black bird.

      Chapter 2

      Daniel moved in front of the window, trying to get her attention. Damn him. She pushed him out of the way, but it was too late.

      The shadow was gone.

      Daniel darted in front of the window again. “What’s wrong with you?”

      “Nothing.” Allie could only assume that the raven was watching her. That he’d followed her here. As for Daniel, he was too absorbed in her bite. She should have worn long sleeves.

      He adjusted his glasses where they’d slipped down his nose. A strand of his Brylcreemed hair had fallen onto his forehead, too. “Let me see your wound.”

      “What for?”

      “I just want to see it.”

      Getting bitten by a bird was nothing compared to what she’d been through. She’d battled bewitched bats and mutantlike giants. But worse yet was her mother. Allie’s mom was a convicted serial killer. It was something she and her sister would never live down.

      “Don’t be stubborn,” he pressed.

      “Fine.” She set her soda on the counter and removed the bandage. Did he know about her mom? Sometimes Allie and Olivia got crank calls. And sometimes people treated them like ghoulish celebrities. The thought sickened her. “See?”

      He examined her skin. “It’s not as bad as it could’ve been.” He glanced up, catching her gaze. “You don’t need stitches.”

      “Told you.”

      “Lucky for you the West Nile Virus isn’t transmitted from birds to humans. Ravens are susceptible to the disease.” He turned her arm, studying it from another angle. “What did you do to piss him off?”

      “What makes you think my raven is male?”

      He stalled for a second, getting an analytical look on his face. The expression seemed natural on him. She decided that he had a high IQ. That it wasn’t just his dorky demeanor creating a book-smart illusion.

      “I’m not sure,” he responded, not giving her a clear-cut response about the bird’s gender. “So, what did you do?”

      She lost focus. “What?”

      “To upset the raven?”

      “I accidentally knocked him on the ground. But I apologized for that. I tried to soothe him. I think he bit me because my cat plucked a feather from his tail.”

      Daniel frowned. “You were in the line of fire?”

      She rebandaged her arm. “Yes.”

      He tilted his head. “What makes you think he was male?”

      “I could tell.”

      “How? The sexes generally look alike.”

      She took a wild guess, hoping she was correct, hoping she could fool him. “It was a rather large bird, and I assume that males are bigger.”

      “Sometimes,” he said. “But not always. Females make a knocking sound the males don’t make. Did it make any noises?”

      “Just a loud caw. Do they make a lot of different sounds?”

      “Totally. They’re masters at mimicry. They can imitate just about anything.”

      She glanced at the window. She wished the shadow would reappear. “Do you mind if we go outside?”

      He perked up. “To swing on the tire?”

      Lord, he was odd. “I don’t think we’ll both fit. Maybe we can just stand beneath the tree.”

      “Okay.” He smiled a little. “I’m not dumb enough to say no to a pretty girl.”

      Was he flirting? She hoped not. She had another male on her mind. And this one had long flowing hair, a slightly scarred chest and breathtaking wings.

      They proceeded outside, where the sky shimmered on the brink of dusk. Branches clawed and climbed above their heads, with leaves rustling in a late-afternoon breeze. He ran his hands along the rope that secured the tire, and she assumed that he needed to touch something. That he was a physical person.

      She looked up. “Do ravens nest in these types of trees?”

      “Sure. In the city, they roost wherever there’s a suitable platform to build a nest.” He smoothed his hair, pushing away the lock that had fallen earlier.

      “What about mating?” she asked.

      “What about it?” he parroted, studying her with a look that made her uncomfortable.

      Did he have to be so intense? So curious about her? Why couldn’t he just answer her questions like the animal expert he was?

      And then she remembered that there was more to Daniel than being a veterinary technician at the zoo. He was part of Kyle’s Warrior Society, a group of former military men who excelled at close-quarter combat and fought for Native causes. They protected Indian burial sites, and sometimes