Novak Raven Page 4

  Perhaps someday, he would smile and she would be the cause.

  The tour rolled by, engines rumbling in the little parade, and as Ryder pulled up the rear, he was frowning at her. He slowed, then stopped in front of her. “You like him.”

  Heat blazed up her neck and landed in her cheeks and ears. “I do not.”

  Ryder canted his head and squinted his eyes at her. “Lie.”

  A shrill whistle sounded from up ahead.

  In a hurry, Ryder told her, “It’s his birthday tomorrow. I’m taking him to Drat’s Boozehouse tonight to celebrate. You should show up around eleven.” Without waiting for her to answer, Ryder gunned it and disappeared into the woods after the others, trailing dust behind him.

  Oh, she’d known it was Weston’s birthday tomorrow, but she’d assumed he hated celebrating it like he had as a kid. He’d never liked extra attention, but she was a fool for thinking Weston was the same little boy she’d known. They weren’t comparable.

  Whatever life the Novak Raven had led from then until now had changed him from the bones out.

  I don’t even know you.

  His words rang so true, and she understood. He didn’t remember her, didn’t recognize her.

  She was beginning to think she didn’t recognize Weston either.

  Chapter Six

  Weston would fire her in a New York minute if he knew she was using the showers at Big Flight for personal use. She was fine sleeping in her car, but personal hygiene was a must for her. She needed to be clean, or her raven would revolt. Already, she’d been Changing more than normal because she felt so unsettled. Her inner animal didn’t do well with chaos. She liked routine. She liked having a steady nesting place, a steady resting place.

  After gas and the minimal amount of food she could get away with, and after a really silly last-minute birthday purchase for Weston, she was down to $7.62. Things were getting desperate. She didn’t know how she would make it another week until payday, but tonight, she had big plans to forget all her problems for a little while.

  Besides, there were bright sides to her life now. The hopelessness was gone. She was earning money every day, and all she needed to do was get to that first paycheck, and everything would be fine. She’d even started looking at rental properties in the newspaper and had a couple of options. Sure, she would have to wait a few paychecks to be able to afford the deposit, but in a month, she would look back on this time in her life and be proud of herself for what she’d been through. There was light at the end of the tunnel. She could see it. She just had to be strong enough to reach it now.

  Tonight, though…tonight she was going to be brave and open her mind to the possibility that not all predator shifters were bad or naturally violent people as she’d been trained to believe. The world was much bigger than Raven’s Hollow, and not everyone was the same. Not everyone was terrifying like the raven shifters thought. Alana had proved that with her kindness in her coffee shop, and Ryder…well, when his eyes glowed gold, he was terrifying, but he had also been hilarious and really patient with her job training.

  Still, as Avery sat in her car outside of Drat’s, she couldn’t help the nervous flutters in her stomach. Flip flap, flip flap, like bird wings against her ribs. Maybe she was going to be sick. No. She was okay. No one would kill her in a public bar.

  And Weston was in there. And Air Ryder. And maybe Alana. Avery had known them for a week, and they hadn’t tried to serial-murder her, not even once.

  Because they are patient hunters.

  Avery shook her head hard. That was the council talking. That was her parents and her teachers. She owed it to herself to figure out the world on her own. Maybe they were right, and maybe she would regret this deeply, but she was tired of assuming people were bad because someone had put that thought into her head.

  She wanted to make up her own mind.

  She wanted to be strong like Weston.

  With a steadying breath, Avery pushed open the door to her home-on-wheels and stood on the cracked concrete parking lot. She smoothed her sundress over her thighs. This was the only thing she’d brought with her to dress up in. She fidgeted with the straps and shouldered her purse, checked that the present she’d bought was inside, then strode across the lot, her sandals clacking loudly with each step.

  There was a man sitting on a bench by the door. His elbows rested on his knees, and he had the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes as one of his legs shook in quick succession. His jet black hair fell forward over his face.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  The man slid a pair of sunglasses over his face without looking up and nodded. “I’m fine.”

  But he didn’t sound fine. His voice trembled too hard.

  Avery looked longingly at the door, eager to see Weston, but she couldn’t just leave this man out here on his own if he was having a shitty night. She knew all about those.

  “I’m Avery,” she said, sitting down beside him.

  “Kane,” he said gruffly, offering her his hand. His lips twitched into a smile for an instant when he shook her hand too damn hard for her comfort. Her bones nearly ground to dust. Rough man. She scented the air delicately, but he didn’t smell of fur.

  “What are you doing out here?” she asked.

  “Just nervous to go in. There’s nothing else to do around here, though, and I don’t want to spend another night alone at home. Sorry.” He shook his head and angled his face down at his clasped hands between his knees. “I’m just being a pussy.”

  “I never understood why men say that.”

  “What, being a pussy?”

  “Yeah.” Her cheeks heated with her thought process, but she pressed on. “Pussies seem pretty strong to me. They can take a pummeling. Nuts on the other hand…”

  Kane huffed a laugh and nodded his head. “Fine. I’m being a big pair of wimpy nuts.”

  With a frown, she studied his bulging muscles and his tattoos down one arm. “I can’t see why you would be afraid of anything, but if it makes you feel any better, I’m terrified of going in there right now, too.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there are people much more powerful than me in that bar.”

  Kane jerked his attention to her, and she could see her polite smile in his sunglasses. “Right.” His nostrils flared slightly. “Are you a shifter?”

  “Are you anti-shifter?”

  “Nope. I’m all for them.”

  “Then yes. But I’m one of those…what did you call it? ‘Big pair of wimpy nuts’ shifters. And that,” she added, surprised at herself, “is the first time I’ve openly admitted my animal to a stranger. We like to stay hidden.”

  Kane adjusted his sunglasses farther up his nose and murmured, “I like to stay hidden, too. Come on, Avery. I’ll buy your first drink.”

  “Oh.” She smiled brightly because she had been planning on drinking free water and maybe a lemon if she got lucky. But an actual alcoholic beverage sounded awesome. She hadn’t eaten much today, so she’d probably be drunk on one. “Thanks so much!”

  Kane chuckled softly and opened the door for her, waited for her to pass, and followed her in. Loud music drifted through the bar from an old Jukebox in the corner, and the place was full, standing room only. She was bumped immediately, but Kane shoved the stumbling man away from her and guided her through the crowd up to the bar.

  And there he was—Weston Novak. He wore a genuine smile, his fist around the neck of a beer bottle, his camouflage baseball cap low over his dancing eyes. His teeth were bright white and straight, and the dimple was there, just faintly. He still hadn’t shaved and looked like a rough ol’ country boy. He’d changed into a black T-shirt and an open blue flannel shirt over holey jeans and clunky work boots.

  But when she followed his smiling gaze, the grin fell from her lips. He was talking to a blond-haired woman. She was tall and leggy in a short skirt and sipped on a cosmopolitan. Weston rested his hand on her waist, and the woman ran her silver p
ainted nails down his arm seductively. Slowly, the woman leaned in and whispered something against his ear, and damn everything, Weston was leaning into her. They were definitely going to kiss. Avery couldn’t do this, couldn’t watch him hook up with another woman. Envy blasted through her, stealing her breath. When she ripped her gaze away, Kane was looking at her, and without a second of hesitation, he bolted forward, dragging her with him. He shoved his way between Weston and Silver Claws and told the bartender, “Can I get a drink for my girl?”

  “Hey!” Silver Claws exclaimed.

  Weston looked pissed, up until the point he arched his gaze to Avery and froze. Slowly, he dragged his attention down her throat to her chest, waist, hips, legs, and then back up. How had he done that? How had he made her feel like he was touching her with just a look?

  His eyes went hard again when he looked at Kane, who was ordering a couple of shots of whiskey. Whiskey? She was more of a panty-dropper fruity-frou-frou drink kinda gal herself.

  “And a Sex On the Beach,” Kane added. Good man.

  “H-happy birthday,” she murmured to Weston over the noise of the crowd.

  Behind Weston, Ryder and Alana and some other giant people she didn’t recognize whooped and lifted their drinks.

  “She said it!” Ryder crowed. “Drink up!”

  “What did I say?”

  Weston took a long swig of his drink and set it down too hard for her taste. “Birthday. Maybe keep that quiet so our livers can stay intact tonight.”

  “Fuck you, man, she didn’t know,” Kane gritted out. He handed Avery a full shot glass.

  “I haven’t done this before,” she said over the music.

  Kane’s grin transformed his face, and instantly, his nervousness from earlier seemed to fade away. “You’ve never shot whiskey?”

  “I’ve never shot anything.”

  “To a night of firsts,” he said, tinking his glass against hers, then he turned and bumped the bottom of the glass on the table before he threw his head back and finished it in one gulp.

  Okay then. Avery bumped the glass on the counter and drank it like Kane had done. And oh, it burned all the way down. She coughed and grimaced, her knuckles against her lips.

  Ryder cheered from a few bar stools over while Avery chased the shot with the Sex On the Beach. Kane threw a few bills onto the counter for the bartender.

  “Thanks for buying me these.”

  Silver Claws had moseyed around Kane and was now hanging around Weston’s neck like a trampy necklace. Avery wanted to peck her eyes out, but at least Weston looked uncomfortable and was trying to pry her off him. She wasn’t deterred, though, and when the woman leaned forward and whispered something in Weston’s ear, green fury snaked through Avery’s veins.

  “You aren’t an oyster,” Avery gritted out.

  “Excuse me?” the woman asked, her baby blues sparking with anger.

  Well, now she was in it. The Bloodrunners had gone quiet, and Weston was looking at her like she’d lost her mind. She had. She hated the way Weston was trying to get rid of this woman, but Silver Claws was pushing him. Avery cleared her throat and clenched her hands around the strap of her purse to steady them. “You aren’t an oyster, and he ain’t your pearl, so let him go.”

  Silver Claws narrowed her eyes to feral little slits. Kane snorted from behind her. Weston was frozen in place holding the woman’s wrists so she wouldn’t molest him further. Ryder giggled and asked, “How do you spell oyster? I’m live tweeting this shit.”

  Silver Claws wrenched her wrists out of Weston’s grip and stomped past Avery, bumping her hard in the shoulder as she did. It hurt, but at least she wasn’t touching Wes anymore.

  Wes? When had she gone from thinking of him as the Novak Raven to Wes?

  “What are you doing here?” he asked Avery, leaning in close.

  “It’s your birth—” She cleared her throat and said, “I’m here to celebrate your big day.”

  His lips thinned into a somber line, much different from the striking smile Silver Claws had been able to draw out of him. “I think you should go.”

  “Why are you being so fucking rude right now?” A dark-headed woman with two oddly-colored eyes said from behind them. “Retract the talons, Wes. It’s a bar, not a private party.” She held out her hand for a shake. “I’m Harper.”

  Avery choked on her drink. “The Bloodrunner Dragon?” she rasped out.

  “Yep,” Harper said with a friendly smile. That’s why the air felt so damn heavy in here.

  Avery shook her hand fast, on account of being terrified of the monster in her middle. That and Harper’s skin felt like hot embers. Kane handed her another shot of whiskey.

  “Slow down, man,” Wes gritted out.

  Pissed, Avery ground out, “You don’t control me.” And then she took another shot with Kane and chased it with her Sex on the Beach.

  “Yeah,” Ryder said, typing away on his phone. “She’s a grown-ass woman.”

  “That’s right.” Whoo, she felt brave right now. Definitely tipsy, but mostly brave. “I am a grown-ass woman.”

  Harper giggled and said, “I like you. Let me introduce you to everyone. That’s Lexi.” She gestured to a smiling woman with dark hair and bright green eyes that matched her camouflage tank top. “You clearly know Ryder, and over there is Aaron and Alana.” She gestured to a tall, muscular, blond man with piercings in his ears and tattoos all over him. Alana she knew, and since the shots were making her feel invincible, she waved to the woman with the dark eyes and the scar on her lip, and this time, her raven didn’t want to fly away, cawing in terror.

  “And this,” Harper said, “is my man, my future baby daddy, my everything, Wyatt.” She wrapped her arms around a titan with bright blue eyes and spiked up brown hair.

  Avery arched her neck all the way back and grinned. At least she thought she grinned. Her lips were numb right now. “You’re big, and you smell like a bear.”

  Wyatt laughed and said, “I am a bear, actually. What are you? And don’t tell me human because you gave yourself away with your sense of smell.”

  Crap. Avery stood frozen in place, her lips searching for her straw. She stalled, sucking her drink and blinking slowly as though she hadn’t heard the question.

  “Go ahead, Avery,” Wes said, his eyes cold. “Tell them what you are.”

  “Wait, what’s happening?” Ryder asked, dragging his attention from his phone.

  “Tell them,” Wes demanded.

  “Why are you being like this?” she asked. It wasn’t cool to out her animal.

  Weston turned and addressed the Bloodrunners. “Avery is a raven shifter.”

  The crew stilled, and none of them spoke a word. Avery couldn’t lift her gaze from the ground if she tried. Angry and tipsy as hell, Avery clutched her empty glass and said, “You’ve been really mean to me, and it’s really fucked up, Weston.”

  “Is it? Is it as fucked up as what you did?”

  She dared a look at him because he was wrong. Wrong in whatever he thought about her. “You hurt me so badly. So badly! You dropped me like I was nothing, you pompous asshole. You left me with no outlet, no friends, left me to compare everyone to you. You left me with an empty life and no explanation, and you think you have a right to treat me like this?” She shoved him as hard as she could in the shoulder. He didn’t budge, the monster. “Outing my animal is a fucked up move, Novak. You’re not the boy I knew.” Cheeks on fire, she looked around at the Bloodrunners. “It was nice to meet all of you,” she said quietly before she bolted for the exit.

  There were too many people in here, and Ryder was yelling something behind her, but screw it. She was done with the games. Done hoping that Weston would magically think she was good enough to be nice to. In her escape, she bounced around like a pinball as she ran into a man with a biker vest and a lady in high heels.

  She shouldn’t have come here to Bryson City. She shouldn’t have gone hunting for a life that could never be hers. Westo
n had embarrassed her. He’d shamed her in front of the Bloodrunners, and for what reason? She’d already been nervous coming in here tonight, and now this? For a minute—for one single, glorious minute—she’d almost felt normal. She’d almost felt accepted, and then Weston had taken that away. Again!

  Twin tears stained her cheeks as she shoved open the door, but she angrily wiped the moisture away. That man didn’t deserve the emotion. He didn’t deserve her hurt.

  “Avery!” Weston called, jogging across the concrete behind her.

  “Fuck off.” Whoa, she couldn’t believe she’d just told the Novak Raven that. Whiskey was liquid courage.

  “Avery, wait!” He grabbed her arm, but she yanked it out of his grip.

  “Don’t touch me.” Stupid tears wouldn’t quit falling.

  “What did you mean back there?” he asked as she fumbled for her keys. “What did you mean I left you with no outlet?”

  “I mean you were awful when we met in Saratoga. You were rude to me. You would barely look at me, and stupid me, I’d been counting down the days until I got to meet you. I loved you! I know I was nothing to you, but for me, you meant everything. You were mine, and I was finally going to get to meet you and touch you. I was finally going to hear you say that everything would be okay instead of writing it in letters.” She let off a sob and yanked open the door to her Civic. “You treated me like I was invisible instead, just like everyone else in my life, and I went home feeling like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. I wrote you after and waited for a response, but you never gave one. And I get it. I wasn’t pretty enough, so your feelings changed when you saw me. I understand it, but it still doesn’t change how much it hurt.”

  “Wait, wait, wait!” he barked, as she slammed the door beside her.