Feather: Book One

A sly smile came to his face, mixed with a subtle hint of disappointment. “You like Professor Edgar don’t you?”

  I snorted, “Yeah right.” I gave him a deep threatening stare, imagining my blue eyes blazing at him with anger. “He’s just…” I paused, trying to think of the right word, “Interesting.”

  Scott rolled his eyes at me as I dragged him by the arm down the path. “Sure. Whatever.” I saw a wounded glimmer in his eyes but he forced himself to hide it. I felt somewhat guilty, but at the same time, I had too much to worry about already.

  “I just don’t know Elle,” he paused, the concern in his voice irritating me, “He seems dangerous somehow, just weird.”

  We blazed into the lab and I threw him down in his stool. “Just watch him, tell me what you think he’s got on his mind,” I snapped.

  He blinked at me, nodding in obedience. We were early, this I knew, but I was anxious. The rest of the class trickled in as my nerves grew, my arm pulsing in pain from the rush of blood through my veins. I kept my eyes locked on the door where he entered, thinking that at any moment he could burst in.

  Everyone had arrived, each still eyeing me with interest and distaste. I had never had so many people stare at me with so much hate. In the city, there was always someone that looked more like a freak. Out here though, it was hard to be away from the things that made them curious, I was beginning to worry that coming here was a bad idea after all.

  As I watched the door in focused curiosity, I finally saw it swing open and the professor entered the room. My heart stopped at the obvious addition of a few vicious scratches on his neck and hands. He wore a tall collared lab coat in his attempt to conceal the wounds, but as I had suspected, I knew exactly where they came from and it finally all began to make sense. He was the person that carried me from the field, and he was somehow involved with the fight between the ravens. He scanned the class, his gaze behind the glasses a calm familiar steel grey.

  My eyes were wide as his gaze rested on me and he took me by surprise. In the split second he allowed it to linger, two notions shot in my head. The initial glimmer he gave me was that of concern but then something about him urged me to stay calm. I took a deep breath, slowly releasing it as I caught Scott glancing at me from the corner of my eye. I brought my hands to my face and tucked my hair behind my ears as the professor’s gaze whipped to my arm as he knelt to bring a large wood box to the table in front of him.

  “Today, we will discuss the environmental impact humans have on the country and how this is causing non-native species to flock to the area and how this changes our ecosystem.” His eyebrows were furled as he opened the box before him. His grasp delicate as it touched the wood.

  Something about what he had in the box made my heart race and I worked to stifle it, telling myself to be brave.

  Edgar pulled on two large gloves, his youthful face stone cold in his concentration on the box. He hesitated before reaching in, his hands fumbling with the contents. I gasped as he pulled out the lifeless mass and he shot a quick glance at me over his glasses, his eyes calm and glowing.

  I threw my hand to my mouth, hushing my disruption as a few students gave me dirty looks. There in his hands was the motionless and shattered body of the matte colored raven. The creature’s eyes were dead and blank, no longer sinister in their bottomless draw.

  Some of the class squirmed as he placed it on the stark white table, blood smearing in thick crimson brushstrokes across the Formica.

  “This is a raven,” he boomed, his gaze on me strange and protective.

  Scott nudged me and I stared at him with sharp eyes. “Or a crow,” he ventured with a joking smile on his face.

  I gave him an evil glare as I turned back.

  The professor seemed to hear exactly what Scott had said as his stern gaze fell on him, “Not to be mistaken for a crow, though they are from the same Genus, the Corvus group,” he smartly added.

  Scott’s back went rigid at the comment, fear striking his timid mind.

  A brave but boring looking girl toward the front raised her hand and I eyed her with disdain. Professor Edgar glanced toward her, nodding in observance and allowing her to speak.

  “But that’s not non-native,” she paused, an obvious shake to her voice, “Northern Ravens are common in Washington and Canada.”

  Edgar gave her a speculative look, “This is true, but unless you are as well trained as me, you will notice that in fact this is a large English Raven.”

  The girl leaned forward, glancing at it closer, swallowing hard and nodding as she excused her misperception. I watched as she looked around the room, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  “So then,” he paused to pace and think before addressing the whole class, “How did this bird manage to cross the Atlantic and the entire country to end up here?” His voice was amused.

  The class looked at him in bewilderment and he eyed me again with a knowing stare. Something inside me knew how or at least why, but was unwilling to tell my mind. This bird was more than just a simple English raven.

  “One may think this is impossible,” he boomed, “but it is amazing what can happen in nature when one finds its life threatened.” He paused, eyes glinting, “Or hungry.”

  I shuddered at his comment. Thinking how threatening the raven had been and how viciously he’d attacked my mind. There was something he wanted from me, but fortunately, it was obvious that he didn’t get it.

  The professor motioned the class to come take a closer look and everyone gathered around with caution. I rose from my stool, keeping the professor in my peripheral view as I approached the dead carcass with a guarded mask. Scott looked at the bird in dumbfounded amazement as the professor fell to the outer flanks of the crowd, circling his way toward me. I watched him, my lips parted as I breathed in calm waves through my mouth, afraid what I might smell emanating from the now rotting bird.

  As he approached, my heart began to race. His coat grazed my calf as I watched him pass from the corner of my eye, my nostrils finally giving in as the breeze that followed him was quick to trigger my memory. It was the same sweet smell I had remembered from last night in the woods, something resembling honey and lilac. My notions were affirmed at that moment, and my accusing gaze shot to him as he seemed to turn and acknowledge my affirmation as though he knew exactly what I did.

  Startled, I sunk away and rushed back to the safety of my seat, my back rigid with surprising fear as the class also dissipated to their stations. Edgar again took their attention as he removed the gloves from his perfect hands, discarding them in the trash.

  “So,” he paused as a few stragglers hurried to get to their seats, “Your job is to research the area, develop a theory on what made him come here, and write me an essay.”

  The class groaned in objection and he shot every one of them a threatening glare, his eyes changing from the serene blue-grey to a deep terrifying black.

  “You are excused to begin your work,” he boomed in defiance, his eyes falling to me. “Estella.” he said my name in a way that made my heart stop and my face turn white as a ghost, “A moment please?” Everyone shot their eyes toward me, most with amusement and spite, but a few with grave compassion.

  Scott looked at me, a pitiful appearance to his face. “Good luck Elle,” he squeaked under his breath. “Catch up to me later, we can work on this together.”

  I nodded, realizing I probably had the best theory of everyone, but of course, who would believe me, let alone resist the urge to pack me off to the psych ward, again. When I had tried to explain my ability to someone for the first time, that was exactly what they had done. A psych ward is no place for a twelve year old, no place for anyone.

  I stood on shaky legs and walked toward him as the last person left the room. I was fidgeting with my hands, nervous for what he had to say. His eyes had faded back to the same calm grey as I approached and though I tried to look away, I couldn’t. He sat leaning against his desk, one hand propping his body up like a sta
tue. As I grew closer my instincts became acutely aware of how beautiful he was and I ran my hand through my hair as I reached him, worried that I’d pale in comparison.

  He was wearing a simple white shirt under his black lab coat that seemed to fit his body well. His jeans were casual and well cut and it was apparent that they were much more expensive then the department store sale jeans I had on. He was like a model from an Abercrombie ad, impossibly portioned and toned.

  He looked at me for a moment and I could see the thoughts forming in his head. I stood a few paces away like an awkward idiot, forcing myself to continue to look into his electric eyes while still holding a safe distance. He broke our stare and looked down into his lap, removing his tinted glasses and folding them in his hands.

  “Estella,” his voice whispered in a way I hadn’t heard before, eyes still fixed on his lap. His change of composure from the first day to now was astronomical.

  “Professor?” my voice sounded weak.

  “Please, call me Edgar,” he breathed, his tone like butter.

  He slowly rolled his gaze back to me and it took all my strength to resist the urge to step back as his pearl eyes glowed in a way that was so unnatural and strange. He took a steady breath, releasing it as it fell across my face in fresh fragrant waves.

  “That was you,” I breathed. “You brought me back here from the meadow.” My eyes were wide, “How did you do that?” My memory flashed back to when he’d picked me up, as though I were a child, “You were so…strong.” My voice began to choke in my throat. “Why did you. How…”

  He was quick to interrupt me, “You’re…” he paused, scanning my face with a look of longing, “You’re imagining things Estella. I merely found you while I was hiking, helpless in a field. I want to make sure we get that straight.”

  I looked at him confused and all thought ceased.

  He moved closer to me, lifting himself from his desk with ease, his gorgeous face now close to mine. “And besides, it was nothing to write home about. You’re light and easy to carry,” he whispered, the smirk on his face growing.

  I looked at him alarmed, shaking my head, “No I…” I paused, struggling again to calm the voices in my mind. It still didn’t seem right. I was missing something, something big.

  “Then what do you think happened?” he mused, his face now writhing with interest, “You obviously know something. I can see that you are perplexed.” He scanned my eyes, watching my every movement like an Eagle watching its prey.

  I shook my head, denying his accusation as my brow furled with deep misunderstanding. I wasn’t about to divulge my thoughts to him, I didn’t trust him.

  A gruff snort escaped his lips, his youthful face taking on a humored appearance as a crooked smile curled across his face. “I know that you possess certain…” his voice trailed off as he narrowed his eyes in thought, “talents.” He watched me as I thought over his words, “You don’t think I didn’t notice what you did to my hawk? You healed him.”

  I opened my mouth to protest but no sound came out. I tried to think of a lie but nothing believable came to mind.

  He closed his brilliant eyes and leaned away from me, taking a deep breath as though relishing the air around me. When he opened them an extraordinary feeling poured out over me. It was as though I was the perfume of life, which I was, but how could he tell?

  “Don’t be afraid though, what you did comes as no surprise to me. It was more of a positive affirmation of who you are.” He looked at me with sly eyes.

  I felt the familiar pull toward him as he exhaled.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. I felt dazed as his breath gave me goose bumps. This was all so unbelievable, so abrupt, “This makes no sense. I don’t even know you, but you act as though you know me.” The way he was leaning toward me was somewhat uncomfortable. It was clear that he was hitting on me, but I was still so confused about how I felt toward him. I mean, I thought he was extremely cute, but at the same time terrifying.

  An oblique smile washed across his face and I couldn’t look away from his beauty, “Would you like to know me?”

  I stared for a moment before nodding, not certain if I really did want to know or not.

  I jumped as he let out a malicious laugh. “Well then,” he breathed, “You will.”

  Irritation pulsed through my veins but the sincerity in his voice was amazing and I felt my knees weaken under me. I had never felt this way toward anyone, there was a pull I could not explain toward him, an interest I’ve never felt.

  “But the raven,” I looked toward the dead carcass, “the other one. The one that lived, what happened to it?” My body felt warm and weak. My assumptions, based on the scratches on his throat, were that he’d been attacked also, and had seen what happened.

  He smiled, his eyes blazing. But as I waited he gave me no answer. He chuckled, the sound reverberating off the walls as he noticed my juxtaposition of feelings toward him, “You don’t have to fear me, I won’t hurt you,” he paused, “I know that since you’ve met me I’ve been a bit odd. It’s just, I hadn’t expected to ever see you again and it’s a little shocking.”

  My face was twisted, “See me again? Professor, I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” This was all so weird, “I’m sorry, it’s just…” I gave him a fake smile, not knowing exactly what to say. There was no other explanation, he must be confused.

  He let out another abrupt snort, “You don’t have to do that.”

  I looked at him with a sour glare. “Do what?” I snapped in defense as I wiped the smile from my face. My confidence was building.

  “Fake a smile. Though it is beautiful,” his eyes glinted, “Very convincing too.”

  I blushed. How did he know I was faking it? Surely eighteen years of practice had produced a convincing act. I looked at him with renewed fervor, my breathing frantic. “How do you know I’m faking it?” I stammered.

  He laughed low and loud, “Because, you’re not happy. Not even close. You’re too empty.”

  My eyes searched his, “How…”

  He cut me off, “Like I said, you’ve met me before, you have to trust me.” His smile never ceased and his eyes were still radiant, “How do I say this so you understand?” his eyebrows lifting in thought, “Let’s just say, you met me in another life.”

  “I…” I was mystified and I put my hand to my chest, feeling the emptiness that he somehow knew was there. He met me in another life? That was illogical.

  He looked at my scarred wrist again, something in his face taking on a sad fascination. Glancing away, he shifted to remove his coat. As he pushed the jacket from his biceps I stared at his arms in amazement. His skin was like a pearl and something inside me suddenly clicked. My eyes darted to his with overwhelming recollection, he was the other raven.

  His gaze lingered on mine, relishing the way I was gawking at him.

  Without a second thought I reached out to touch his skin but he was quick to slink away, “Estella, no!” His eyes saturated themselves in a deep black and I stepped back in horror. “Don’t do that,” he snapped.

  I looked at him with wide eyes. His face now angry and horrified as my heart raced in impulsive fear. How had his eyes so suddenly changed?

  “You can’t touch me,” he sighed, “I wish I could explain to you why, but not yet.” He looked at my face, now angry with himself for getting out of control. He clenched his jaw, “I have to be prepared for something like that.” His eyes began to lighten as he drew in a heavy breath.

  “Sorry I…” stammering, I folded my arms around my stomach, “I couldn’t help it.”

  He sighed, smiling, “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. I should have expected you would do that. It’s just that, I need to learn better control of my mind. If I touch you, as strange as this may sound, it could really hurt you.” I saw his gaze fade back to grey as he looked at my arm, now trying to change the subject. “Are you ok? You were bleeding pretty profusely.”

  I looked at
him, my head swimming with questions, “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just a cut.”

  He nodded.

  My eyes were fixed on him in amazement, “I heal fast anyways.” I looked toward the table where the dead bird lay, unable to handle his strange beauty.

  “Yes, I figured you did.” His voice was becoming calm as his eyes followed my gaze and a grave look crossed his face.

  I stared at the carcass for a long moment before speaking, “What is it?” I asked, somewhat disgusted by the small drops of drying blood on the white table and wondering if he knew more than what he was divulging to me.

  He sighed, “It’s a spy, of sorts.” His voice was vague. “You have no need to be afraid though, it won’t happen again. I’ll personally make sure of that.”

  I looked at him, clenching my hands into a fist as I gathered the courage to ask what my mind was itching to know, “It was you wasn’t it.” My tone was accusing and my eyes narrowed, “You were the raven, the one that was glowing in the sun and the one that killed this one. You can…” my mind was throbbing with the thought, it was inconceivable, but suddenly so logical, “You can change into that thing, can’t you.” I gave him no option to deny me as my questions came out as statements.

  He dropped his gaze to his lap, smiling to himself as he unfolded the tinted glasses in his hands and slid them casually back over his eyes. He changed the subject again, “You should probably get going. You’re going to be late for your next class.”

  I looked to him as a grumble escaped my lips, not wanting to leave, “That’s it isn’t it, I’m right.”

  His eyes narrowed behind the lenses. “I’d love to talk more but,” he exhaled, “I think we’ve said enough.” He leaned toward me, his eyes now very dark.

  I leaned away from him in fear as my hands clenched even tighter.

  “You smell utterly amazing if you don’t mind me saying.” He smirked.

  I pressed my brows together in anger.

  He stood and walked away from me toward his door. “I will see you later Estella,” his voice echoed over his shoulder, “and try not to let people notice what you are doing to the plants.”