Page 39 of Raven

I walked to college, keeping an eye out for Tia, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Maybe she'd come this way, even thoughwe lived on opposite sides of the campus. I tried not to think too hard about it, but I did walk along South Street and all the way around, which was totally out of my way, just because she took that route. I didn’t see her there, either.

When I got to college, I headed for the refectory at the back. Actually, it was just a room with a kitchen and a serving hatch. The humans attempted to give us some kind of food service with our education. Most of us went there to start the day. Tia wasn't there, either.

The staff gave out free food. When I say free food, I mean a vat of cold and gloppy porridge slopped into plastic bowls and served with the weakest orange juice. Being a shifter, I didn’t eat that stuff unless I was so hungry that I just needed something. But many others did. It was a meal for them, and it was free. No judgement.

I went to my classes, and while they weren’t usually hard for me, I had trouble concentrating. My head was just all over the fucking place, probably like the slop they served in the refectory. I couldn’t keep my focus, and every time I saw anyone walk past the door, I checked for Tia. I even stared out of the window, hoping to see her walk by. I didn’t know what for. What would I do if I saw her? Run out? No, but ... in my head, I just needed that sight, that connection with her. Fuck this ... I just ... I ground my teeth and let my panther pace. He wasn’t much help either. He howled inside, slashing, pining—a cat with no purpose. I didn’t know if it was me bringing him down, or him doing it to me.

After classes, I went to the library and 'tried' to study. I had a paper due the week after, and I had most of it done. Honestly, it really just needed proofreading and all the citations, and I’d be done, but even that wasn’t computing in my head. I gave up.

When I went to work, Clay was already setting up the bar. He had two lines that he was flushing out, and he was replacingthe optics—vodka, always the first to go, then whiskey. Mostly humans drank this stuff. Some shifters did too, but shifter vodka was super strong.

"Is Max not in today?" I asked, tossing my bag behind the bar and starting to take the upturned chairs off the tables and set them down.

"She is. She had to take her car to the garage. She’ll be back in a bit. You need her for something?"

"I just need to head off a little early today. Around half five. I can come in half an hour earlier tomorrow."

Clay poured himself a vodka, downed it neat, and licked his lips. "Max won’t mind. It’s not like we’re going to be rushed off our feet. You got a big date?"

"Nah. Just an errand to run for a friend."

He gave me his signature, one raised eyebrow. "If you say so." Then we opened the bar.

The shift wasn’t so busy. We had a steady flow of patrons, always something to do but not overwhelming. Between serving drinks, I found myself lost in my thoughts again, my mind drifting back to Tia and the mess of my life. How had it gone this way in the space of weeks? I didn’t ask anyone that. If I asked any of the adults in my life, they’d say, Tia, but they didn’t get it, even when they said they did.

Max came back in later and headed to her flat at the back of the bar because it was quiet. She usually did paperwork and accounts on Tuesdays. I’d probably do the same if I owned a bar.

Half-past five rolled around, and I headed out as another server, Jax, came in for the evening shift. There were only a few tables taken, most with their food already. Clay was working on a couple of orders, but Jax could handle them.

I headed out to meet Malcolm. The place where we were meeting was a shithole—a clearing between a fishing dock and the tip. A place where humans came to fly-tip. There were atleast three mattresses, one torn and shredded, another with stains I didn’t want to imagine. Malcolm wasn’t there yet, but I was early.

It wasn’t far from Spyglass, so I was able to walk. The area itself looked out over the river. There were a few broken boats on the marsh part, left to rot, put on display. When the weather was better and the ground hardened, it was possible to get out to them and explore. As a kid, I’d done that myself, pretending to be a pirate, having adventures. The tide had been in, making the ground wet and mushy. I sat myself on the broken bench and waited.

Malcolm arrived spot on six, like I knew he would. He nodded to me, and I glanced around to check we were alone. He didn’t, of course. He handed me an envelope before saying anything. “You’re doing a reverse run tomorrow night.”

I opened the envelope. “Someone’s coming from Exile?” That didn’t happen often, but it did happen.

“Yes.”

Inside the envelope were keys to a property and the address. That place had once been used as tennis courts and a club. It had been left empty for ages. I guess Malcolm had acquired it and turned it into living quarters. “Red Marsh? I thought that place was abandoned.”

“It was. We managed to renovate some of it,” he said, pausing on “renovate” because we both knew it wouldn’t be luxury.

“Who am I picking up?”

“A mother and her son. Lachlan—another of Malcolm's assistants/helpers/whatever we were—will drive. You’re not picking up from the usual docks. These docks are down at Morcombe. Lachlan will stick to the back roads because you might cross curfew. You might also need to shift, so be prepared for that. When you have them, Lachlan will drop you three off atHolly Road and keep a lookout for you. You will walk the woman and her son to her new place and let her in.”

I opened the envelope properly for everything else. Inside was a key to her property, a sheet with a password for verification, and a small envelope with my payment. “Do you need me to do anything else?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Just get her to Red Marsh and settled in. Give them the usual.”

By “usual,” he meant the phone number to contact if they needed anything. My mother and I had been given the same, but we’d never needed it. I always assumed it’d go through to Malcolm or someone else in the society. “Tell her I’ll come and see her,” he added.

“I will.” I waited for Malcolm to leave, but he didn’t. That in itself made me a little nervous. “Is everything okay?”

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Have you spoken to Tia?”

“No.” Her name made my insides clench. “Why?”

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