The Raven's Kill Read online

  The Raven's Kill

  By Ella Grey

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places are products of the author's imagination or are used factiously and not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The Raven’s Kill

  Copyright 2014 Ella Grey

  First Edition 2014

  Second Edition 2019

  ISBN: 978-1-77101-223-2

  Cover Artist: Victoria Miller

  First Editor: Jayne Wolf

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Dedication

  We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we're curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.

  Walt Disney

  Bibliography

  Evernight Publishing

  The Schoolteacher and the Dom

  Weekend with the Dom

  Embracing the Tease

  The Vixen and the Wolf

  The Criminal and the Wolf

  The Wolf and her Mate

  Irish Kisses

  Burn

  Guitars and Cupcakes

  Her Type of Guy: Anthology

  Decadent Publishing

  Saving Kat

  Guarding Mari

  Chapter One

  It had taken some manoeuvring, but the raven eventually found a spot on the side of the building, a church with gargoyles perched around the towers, where he could see her. He always made it a habit to study his targets before he completed his assignments. An assassin with a moral code. A rarity in his line of business. He’d been sent after a lot of different people. None of them good. All of them more than worthy of the bullet he put into them but was she?

  She brought a strawberry to her lips and bit into it, an unexpected laugh escaped her as juice stained her lips. Her blonde hair glowed in the midday sun. An angel. The man who was sat opposite her was busy looking at his phone. He glanced up at the sound and she blushed as he turned his attention back to his phone. What an idiot. If it had been Raven, he would have tasted the strawberry directly from her lips. The overwhelming need to claim those red lips himself took him by surprise, a desire to do something, but the task he'd been hired to do was alien to him. He watched as she dabbed her red lips with a napkin. There was something about her, the mass of curls and her lilac eyes, a colour he hadn’t seen in such a long time, that gave her the look of a startled wood nymph.

  Why would anyone want her dead? Why am I even questioning it? The stray thoughts broke his usual ironclad resolve.

  The smile which graced her lips was small and she looked down at her plate. There was no way she knew Raven watched her, torn between contemplating her death and claiming her in a way that would leave her screaming in pleasure. Raven tore his attention away from her and spread his wings to aid his descent to a lower perch on the building. The need for her to see him as a man, not as a bird, guided his steps. As soon as he was close enough to the top of the alleyway separating the church from a Chinese restaurant, he dropped the rest of the way down, his wings spread. Magic swept over him, a tingle which travelled to every nerve ending, and instead of his claws, he landed on the soles of thick boots. The black feathers made up a black T-shirt with matching jeans, and a leather jacket completed the look. His feathers could take the shape and feel of any piece of clothing he could imagine, but he took in mind his surroundings. He needed to blend into the background, but he still wanted to catch her attention. To let her know that someone watched her.

  As he stepped out of the alleyway, he shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. He blinked a few times and settled his gaze on her, travelling the line of her neck, noting her full lips. As if she felt his intense gaze, at that moment she glanced up. The second their eyes met, his heart flipped in his chest. A connection bound them together, almost tangible and one he didn't want to ignore. Her lilac stare pinned him to the spot. She paused in mid-motion, another strawberry halfway to her lips. The man moved in his chair until his eyes connected with Raven. There was fear in his eyes and inky blackness before he quickly spun around. He broke the connection before it could fully form and Raven dismissed the man. After all, he wasn't the focus of his attention, she was.

  The man reached out and touched her arm effectively breaking the hypnotic effect they had on each other. It was obvious that whatever Raven felt, she felt it as well. A connection that shouldn’t have been there. A few whispered words and they both stood. Raven wanted to follow them; to stop her, but common sense glued him to the floor. There would be time to meet her later. He smiled as she darted another look at him over her shoulder. The blush hadn’t left her cheeks and his smile widened; she was intrigued as much as he was. He let his eyes travel over her body taking in every detail, committing it to memory. Her simple blue dress was a picture of innocence and the look in her eyes had been the same. There was no darkness there. No black mark that hinted at a terrible secret. The ability to gaze into someone eyes and know his or her darkest secret made him a talented assassin who never made a mistake. She was an innocent so why did someone want her dead?

  ***

  The only thing Cassandra Stirling could hear was the sound of her heart in her chest. Patrick might have said something, but she couldn't hear him over the heavy thudding. Fear welled up inside of her, tinted with desire. The way the man looked at her. A smile which made her body tight with a need she’d never felt before. It had been instant and it flowed through every part of her. The more unpleasant feelings threatened to overwhelm her, hinted at the beginning of an attack. They'd become more regular since her parent's death and near impossible to stop.

  Patrick's rested his hand on her arm and brought her attention back to him. His hand, cold against her skin, jolted her out of the impending spiral into helplessness. He guided her away from the coffee table. Their lunch is forgotten at the moment. She risked one more look over her shoulder at the strange man. He watched her with dark eyes. Desire spiked through her again. The emotion left her breathless at its intensity. Her reaction to the stranger was absolute and undeniable.

  He inspired darkness and passion in an otherworldly package. Dark hair, rough and unkempt and looked like he'd brushed his fingers through it. That lazy grin of his made parts of her ache. The heat between her legs spread like wildfire all over her body and her face warmed again. He was mesmerizing and it wasn't easy to pull her gaze away from him. An ache in her hands desperate to touch him. He couldn't be real, nobody like him existed in the real world, only in dark fantasies. "Cassandra, I better take you home." Her fiancé's voice broke through her fantasy and guilt hit her hard.

  "Thanks, I don't know what came over me."

  He smiled, as he gently rubbed her lower back. Usually, the touch would have calmed her, but today it didn't. Cassandra couldn't pull her thoughts away from the man who stepped out of the shadows.

  "It's okay. I know these spells come over you without warning. It'll be best if I drop you back off home, do you want me to call the doctor?"

  They hadn't had a long engagement, they met at her parent's funeral, but Patrick had become a part of her life, offering stability she needed and a touch that stopped the attacks from overwhelming her. She shook her head. "I'm fine, I just need to rest."

  They drove to hers mostly in silence. Patrick had tried to talk to her, but Cassandra glanced out of the window, watching the world pass by in a whirl. Had it been the mysterious man who'd triggered the attack? She might have suffered from them her entire life, but it was only after her parent's death that the attacks starte
d to become more terrifying. She'd never mentioned one particular thing to the doctors, the one thing that would end with her being strapped in a straitjacket. Bad things happened after them. It took a while for her to make the connection. In the beginning, it had been small things, the boiler packing up, and her friend falling out of a tree and breaking her arm. Then her parents died in a car crash.

  Patrick turned the corner and drove up the road leading to Ravenwood. The mansion where she'd grown up had been in the family for years. Originally built by Lord Ravenwood; it resembled something out of a gothic novel. There were even catacombs under it. The history of the building was amazing, but Cassandra hadn't been allowed to explore them when she'd been little. Even now, since she'd moved back into the mansion it hadn't been high on her list of priorities. It was all hers now, not that she wanted it. The place held too many memories and it was too big for her and Patrick, though he seemed keen on keeping it. Patrick dropped her off near the front door and brushed a kiss against her cheek.

  "Would you like me to come in?"

  She fought against the urge to yawn. "No, I'll be fine, honest. I just want to get some sleep. The rehearsal is the day after tomorrow so, I'll meet you at the church?"

  "I'll be there at six, as soon as I'm finished at work."

  She opened the car door and stepped out, waving as Patrick's car disappeared down the driveway. Her body felt heavy as exhaustion seeped into her bones. The doctors she'd seen had no explanation for the attacks and she stopped talking about them. She had no desire to end up locked up in a padded cell.

  As soon as she unlocked the door, Jasper, a beautiful Labrador her parents bought when she was a little girl, ran up to her, nearly knocking her over. She ran her hands over his soft fur and buried her face into it. After a moment, she pulled away and smiled. At least with him there, the mansion didn't feel as empty.

  "Hey Jasper, let's go get you some food."

  ***

  Raven would never understand how people survived walking on two feet or driving in a steel box on wheels. He spent the majority of his time in his bird form, the wind currents under his wings as they carried him in their wake. There was something incredibly natural about flying as simple as breathing was for humans. He kept a reasonable distance from the car, caught up in an air pocket. Even if they caught sight of him in the rear-view mirror, they wouldn't be able to guess a more calculated mind worked inside the fragile body of a bird, underneath the feathers.

  He'd seen civilization rise and fall. In all that time, he'd never laid eyes on someone like Cassandra, someone who shook his resolve. Raven perched on one of the trees surrounding the estate. Cassandra stood on the doorstep for a few seconds; the wind caught her hair as she dug into her purse for a key, unlocked the door and vanished inside. According to the information, Nicolai gathered, she lived alone. Her life was completely isolated, the thought of her so utterly alone called to him on a primal level. Another connection forged between them. Neither of them had a family. Originally, she'd lived in the city but after the crash killed her parents, she'd moved back into the family home, probably to sort out the things her parents left behind. There were memories in there she handled by herself, a strength under all that purity.

  As she entered the house, he moved from his perch and flew to the top of the mansion. The sky was already turning dark and there were plenty of hiding places on the roof. He shifted back into his human form. Scanning out the area, he noted several skylights; he made his way across the flat surface. They certainly didn't make places like this anymore; a metal grate enclosed the space. Near the centre was a door, allowing access from the house.

  He brushed his fingers against the handle, but it didn't turn under his hand. Well, that would have been too easy, he thought wryly. He glanced back at the skylights; it would be simple enough to pop one of them open and slip in, complete the job and get out again. He crept closer and peered down, about a twelve-foot drop, he estimated. Easy for someone who could shift into a bird. If anyone human tried to attempt it, they'd break a leg. It would be so easy to drop through now, track her through the dark hallways and break her neck. Sickness welled in the pit of his stomach; the reaction stayed his hand in shock. He couldn't do it. Somehow, she'd already gotten under his skin. Her lilac stare haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. Could he kill her when being close to her evoke such an intense feeling in him? He half collapsed onto the roof, his back against the door leading down.

  He dropped his head into his hands. If he didn't follow through on his assignment, there would be repercussions. Thankfully, there was time, a few hours at least to figure out his next move.

  Chapter Two

  Cassandra slipped off the glasses she used for reading and closed the book. She still hadn't been able to get that man out of her head. The image of him smiling crept into her thoughts, the words on the page blurred. He made it incredibly hard to focus on anything, but him. How was that even possible? She wriggled down in her bed and pulled the covers tightly around her. Cassandra wanted to feel comforted. Patrick was supportive but they'd never been that physically close.

  As her eyes fluttered closed, she trailed her hand lower brushing against the lace. Instinct and desire guided her movements, a pressure built steadily inside of her. She needed to take the edge off or sleep would be impossible to find. Slowly she tugged the nightie higher, bringing her knees up at the same time to give herself better access. He was like a shadow, dark and intangible, but she had no problem picturing him in her mind. An involuntary gasp escaped her lips as she gently circled the cluster of nerves between her legs. She bit her bottom lip as she explored using the wetness there to tease herself to the brink. She cried out, picturing his handsome face between her legs, the lazy grin that had made her heart flutter like a schoolgirl. With one hand, she cupped her breast, teasing the nipple through the fabric.

  She didn't even know his name, but it didn't matter. She lifted her hips, imagining what it would be like to feel him push into the wetness there. He'd draw the pleasure out with careful strokes until the pressure built and need overtook her. The fantasy that played through her mind was unexpected. Had it been a year since she'd last had sex? With the accident that killed her parents, sex was the last thing on her mind, but the man with the dark eyes changed that. A desire and a need that only he could meet, the silent promise he'd fulfil every fantasy she had, all in one lazy grin. How was that even possible? She pushed the thought away, crying out. Breaths came in quick bursts as the spark inside finally ignited. Pure pleasure swept over her, back arched, toes curled. She enjoyed the sensations that played through her body as the cool air caressed naked skin and she tugged her nightie back down.

  It's never felt like that before. She tugged the hem of her nightie down again and sat up. When she'd gone to bed, the door had been partially closed. Now it was open and a shadow stood in the doorway. She screamed as the object of her fantasy stepped further into her room.

  ***

  Her moans had echoed all over the mansion. Raven had even heard them from his place on the roof; he'd shifted long enough to enter from the skylight before taking his human form again and went to investigate. The corridors were dark, but it wasn't a problem. The dog he'd spotted earlier remained silent in the kitchen, a terrible guard but Raven was thankful he didn't have to silence him.

  The moans made him rock hard, she was the only one in the house, which left one very interesting possibility of what she was up to.

  It didn't take long to find her room, the door slightly ajar and he pushed it open a little more. Cassandra writhed on the bed, one hand between her legs and the other on her chest. He watched her come undone and knew he could do it better. He wanted her to fall apart with his tongue lapping at her juices, sucking and teasing her until she called out his name. He quite liked the fantasy and missed her eyes opening, resting on him. Her scream ripped through the air.

  Well, what did you expect? That she'd pull you into her arms and you could fi
nally find out what her lips taste like?

  Raven darted from his place in the doorway and pressed his hand across her mouth. "I won't hurt you." The words left him in a rush, as she fought against him. "Cassandra, I don't intend to hurt you. Listen to me. Please listen to me." Her fighting gradually came to a stop, her breathing heavy and fast pressing against his chest. "I'm going to remove my hand. Don't scream. I don't want to keep you quiet."

  For the first time in his life, he didn't know what he was doing. The smell of her desire, mixed with the vanilla perfume that seemed embedded into her skin, filled the air and it was distracting as hell. "Trust me?"

  It was asking a lot and he knew it, but she finally nodded. The impression of her lips against his hand felt like a burn as if the brief touch left a scar against his skin.

  "Please don't hurt me."

  Her words made him angry that he hadn't been able to control the situation better. "I promise."

  Cassandra moved away from him, turning to face him. She nibbled at her bottom lip, her fingers twisted together. "What do you want?"

  "You're in danger." Doubts quickly filled his mind. What was it about her that made him break his own rules?

  She laughed bitterly. "This from the guy who broke into my house and watched me..." a blush stained her cheeks and she glanced down at her hands.

  With her, he was completely lost. A question lingered on his lips. Even though it wasn't the time or place, he couldn't stop the words. "Who were you thinking of?"

  "What?" She snapped her eyes to the ground. Her skin turned a lovely shade of red.

  He reached out to touch her, unable to stop himself. His fingers barely connected when she flinched away from him. Raven moved away from her, she needed space; damn it if he didn't need it too. For a few minutes, he didn't say anything, and instead studied the bedroom. The bedspread was light blue; flowers decorated the bottom of it. On the wall, were posters and pictures; Cassandra was much younger in them, her hair longer, with other kids her age, happier.