Midnight Starling: An Urban Fantasy Romance Series Read online

  Another itch tickled my nose. I seized my bridge between two fingers, but to no avail.

  “I swear to…!” I blurted, before a sneeze erupted and left me spiraling toward the wooden floorboards.

  I landed with a slight thud as a cross between a screech and a tweet erupted from my throat. I huffed a few times and scowled at the stark, off-white wall while adjusting my wings. Somehow my brain correlated white with cleanliness, so I never personalized my room with a cheerful coat of paint like Poppy did with the rest of the house. It was one thing the landlord hadn’t minded. Unfortunately, my reasoning was bull. White areas could get just as dusty as blue or yellow ones. A few heartbeats later, my feathers were all comfortably angled downward. A second drawback to turning was that I couldn’t launch straight into flight. No, I was always just a bird in midair, free-falling until I got my bearings. It was a lucky thing birds have hollow bones and tough little bodies, or I would have been a splatter on the ground ages ago.

  Finally, I bounced up on my stick legs and sighed. Well, I tried to anyway. There was nothing left to do but wait, so I pressed my annoyance aside and stretched my wings. As I lifted myself into the air, I vowed to hire a routinely scheduled cleaning squad. With practiced grace, I dipped my left wing and crashed into my pillow. Drawback three—I was never any good at landing.

  Chapter 3

  Bea

  “Hello?” I grumbled into the phone that had disturbed my rest. I cracked an eyelid open, searching the window for daylight, but found none.

  “Is this the Midnight Starling detective agency?” a woman asked.

  “Huh? Oh. Yeah, sorry. What time is it?”

  When I was met by silence, I dragged myself up into a sitting position. “Hello?”

  I pulled the phone from my ear and squinted at the screen. It was just after 5 am. I used my other hand to go through my nightstand drawer for allergy meds. It was well past the time for my next dose, and I didn’t feel like sneezing again before I’d had an entire night’s rest.

  “I need help,” the woman continued, the urgency in her tone unmistakable. It was slight, as if she were struggling to hide it, but it caused me to shake off most of my sleepy haze.

  “Where are you? Are you in danger?” I inquired as I popped a pill out of its foil packet.

  “No, no. It’s not me. I need you to find my husband. He’s missing,” she replied.

  I sighed audibly before I could catch myself, and my eyes involuntarily rolled into my head. I seriously needed to remember to turn my ringer off when I went to bed. Bird talons made navigating a touch screen more challenging, but still.

  I grabbed a cup of water sitting beside me and swallowed the pellet. “Look, lady. I open at nine. Can you call back then? I’ll be more than delighted to help you track down your boyfriend when the sun it up and I’ve downed a cup of coffee or two.”

  “My husband, and you don’t understand. I think someone has taken him,” she pressed.

  My tolerance had its limits. “Have you contacted the police?”

  “No. I… can’t.”

  “What do you mean you can’t? If you think he is in danger, you need to hang up and call the police,” I countered, using as much authority as I could without yelling.

  “It’s- I-” she stammered before going silent again.

  I waited a few moments, then peeked at the screen. The words ‘call ended’ appeared. I wanted to be more annoyed, but there was an uneasy rumble working its way around my gut.

  Slumping back down against my mattress, I eyed the lines of my textured ceiling while deciding if I wanted to get up and pursue the matter or go back to sleep and handle it later. After a solid ten minutes of struggling to sleep, I gave up and wiggled over the side of the bed. The call shouldn’t have troubled me as much as it did, but it felt like a festering splinter in my conscience.

  I hissed a few of my favorite words through clenched teeth as I instinctively shifted to snag my phone from my nightstand, only to realize it was still in my hand. I jammed my thumb over the fingerprint reader to unlock it and redialed the last number in my call history. After the eleventh ring, I gave up hope for even a voicemail.

  I pushed myself onto my feet as quietly as possible and got dressed. On autopilot, I found my place behind my desk and opened my laptop. As the screen flashed to life, the door lock clicked. Poppy was home.

  I used my sleeves to clear my eyes and waited to greet her.

  “Hey there sunshine,” she said. Her mood was usually bright, but there was something more in her voice.

  “How was your night?” I asked.

  “Same as always.” She kept looking away as if she were lying. Poppy was secretive, but she didn’t usually lie. Maybe she was too tired to talk about it right now.

  “I closed the case I was working earlier. Turns out the husband is actually a solid guy. He wasn’t lying at all. I’m glad, too. I hate liars.”

  “Nothing worse than a liar,” she agreed after closing the door and setting the lock. “I’m frazzled. See you in a few hours?” It wasn’t a question. She was already heading to her room.

  “Sure. I got a weird call right before you got in. I’m just going to see what’s going on with this lady.”

  “Okay. Goodnight Bea, sweet dreams,” she said as she closed her door.

  “Night!” I replied loudly enough for her to hear through the wood.

  She normally asked for details and how my day had been. It pulled at my gut like maybe something was wrong, but I’d have to sort it out tomorrow after she had some rest.

  I focused my attention back on my workstation.

  I had nothing to go on, not even a name, but I had a phone number. Now was one of those times I envied the FBI, or even the police, with their special software to track people down. I was a measly private eye, which meant doing things the tough way. Squinting against the light that illuminated our dark apartment, I typed her number into the reverse number search engine and hit enter.

  To my amazement, it generated an address. I blinked in disbelief for a few brief seconds, then I snagged a notepad and pen and scribbled it down. I shot up and crammed my feet into my favorite sneakers. I was halfway out the door, keys in hand, when I finally glanced down at what I had thrown on earlier and froze. I couldn’t go out wearing pajama bottoms and a twice worn long-sleeved t-shirt.

  “Shit,” I grumbled, slamming the door and heading back to change my clothes.

  Poppy was whistling. Beautifully, as always. Whenever I heard her, it helped my tension fall away. And I always had plenty of that. She only did it when she thought she was alone. I smiled to myself and kept going.

  The morning was warming up, even though the sun wasn’t full in the sky. The promise of a hot day warmed my face. My feet pounded the concrete of the parking lot as I jumped down the last step. I realized too late that I had also forgotten my sunglasses, but I kept going. I hoped my ACHOO didn’t act up. Whatever joker named the condition for when the sun made you sneeze was a not nearly as funny as he presumably wanted to be.

  I was nearly to my driver’s side door when my nose twitched. My mouth let out an obscenity at my terrible luck, when a giant dog strode around my front bumper. I was glued in place, a surge of fear coursing into my system as my brain stalled. It wasn’t a dog; it was a wolf. An enormous gray beast with white markings splashed across its forehead. The wolf raised its snout and sniffed the air in my direction as my nose itched again. I threw the back of my hand against my nostrils and was rewarded with a growl.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a streak of gray race in my direction before skidding to a halt. He looked like he desperately wished to help. But there was no point in two of us dying. I kept my eyes on the beast and it kept its eyes trained on me.

  My brain screamed not to run on repeat. Slowly, like a half-speed video, I took a step toward my vehicle’s door. The lumbering monster matched my step, coming closer. I kept my hand plastered to my face. Dogs ate birds.

 
Its lips pulled upward to showcase a complete set of jagged white murder teeth. I gulped audibly.

  When my nose twitched a third time, my nostrils burning, I was a goner. The wolf lifted its paw to take another step, and I bolted. I jerked my hand away from my face in my courageous self-rescue attempt, and the moment it touched my side I sneezed. In a split second, I was dressed in feathers, tumbling to the ground.

  Fly, Beatrice, fly! my brain screamed as I desperately pumped my wings. I wasn’t soaring, but I had stopped falling. As I hovered in midair, hope coursed through me. Yes, I’m going to make it!

  I squawked when I was plucked from the sky. The world spun as I was covered in slobber, captured between the wolf’s powerful jaws. Only I didn’t feel the breaking of my bones like I expected. Instead, it clutched me in its mouth. Before I could muster up an escape plan, the wolf took off. It was not as careful as it ran, and I felt its bottom teeth digging into my tail feathers as it rushed. Now it was just a matter of hoping that I wouldn’t become a frightening statistic of people who were kidnapped and never returned.

  When an image of my death rose in my mind, I lashed out with my beak and pecked at the fleshy gums. I tore at what I could clamp down on and used my talons to snag and rip at anything else within my reach. I squawked, slashed, and wiggled with all my might.

  The stink of blood filled my head, but the wolf kept moving. I must have hit something tender because the beat of its feet faltered for a moment. Another growl rumbled from it, the vibration rattling through my beak. The wolf righted itself but tightened its jaws on my body, stopping me from doing more damage. I was now pinned completely and even more uncomfortably.

  When we finally slowed, its stride took on a slower rhythm—a trot. I worked to wiggle my body around again to see where we were headed, but it was to no avail. I received another grumble for my trouble. It was apparent I wasn’t going to die yet, but I would not go down without a battle. I was taking no chances. I purposely tried to alter my mood from worry to something more useful, but all my muscles and joints ached from being squeezed between the wolf’s teeth.

  We finally scooted to a halt.

  “Victor, there you are. Took you long enough,” a voice said from somewhere nearby.

  The wolf’s name is Victor? Of course, it is, I thought dryly.

  The wolf huffed, sending another hot surge of breath that thoroughly ruffled me, before he unclenched his jaws and released me. I was falling before I could get over my indignation. Even if I took a billion showers, I was positive I would never get the muck off me.

  I landed with a splat, but quickly righted myself. My head swiveled to take in the view denied to me on the journey. Nothing seemed to be permanently damaged. I finally paired the voice that spoke earlier with a face. From down here, he seemed like a giant. A hard, down-turned frown and brown eyes marred his dark features. The only thing that wasn’t severe was his hair, which was set in ruffled waves in contrast to his serious demeanor.

  “Alright, turn back into a human,” he commanded.

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cooperate, even if that was possible.

  Instead, I angled my head back, puffed my chest out, and shrieked loudly at him.

  “This is not the time for games, the boss needs to talk to you. Change back,” he repeated.

  I hopped in a circle, flapped my wings, repositioned myself, then lifted my head back up and chirped at him in reply. Internally, I struggled to will my body to shift back, but it ignored me like usual. Did this idiot think I preferred to remain helpless? My karate training didn’t cover fighting with wings.

  “Fine. Be difficult, but it’s your funeral. Victor! Lock her up until she cooperates.”

  If I had my gun, he wouldn’t have been so smug, the jackass. Not that I carried it around with me, but I had a permit to carry it concealed. If I got out of this alive, I was going to make certain I had it everywhere I went.

  Before Victor could scoop me up, I took off in a bouncing gait. I was too wet to fly. Starlings were not made for quick land travel, but I had hopped about a foot before the familiar feel of canine teeth stopped my escape.

  I wasn’t going quietly this time. I chirped and squawked, then tried to peck a molar from his mouth as I was viciously shaken and carried through a door. Lucky for Victor, we didn’t go far. I was making significant progress on ripping apart more of his gums when he tossed me headfirst into a room.

  He barked at me as I landed. I glared, imagining a sword cutting through his brain. Before I fully recovered my footing and attempted to fly at his face, Victor backed out of the doorway and the other man slammed the door shut. The sound of the lock clicking took the wind out of my spirit. I was trapped and alone. And I didn’t even know where I was or who these people were.

  My thoughts momentarily turned back to the desperate woman on the phone as I surveyed the room. The walls were drab, along with the ceiling, and the floor was a plain brown wood. The only positive thing I could muster appreciation for was the twin-size bed that looked almost comfortable.

  I stretched my wings out as far as they’d go, imploring them to work. After a few tries, my body raised from the ground just enough to get where I needed to go. I angled my wings and ducked my head so I would land on top of the blankets. Similar to previous attempts, I toppled onto the mattress, not caring about the impact. My only aim to dry off and get warm. Using my beak to lift the edge of the blanket just enough, I wiggled my body underneath.

  I burrowed under headfirst, twisted around, and poked my nose out to breathe. With a huff, I closed my eyes, plotting. My best option of escape was as a human, and to manage that, I was going to have to sleep. I had never wished harder that I could shift back on command than I did in that moment. My last thought before falling asleep was of how worried Poppy and Isaac were going to be.

  Chapter 4

  Poppy

  “They took her!” Isaac shouted, jolting me awake.

  I blinked and struggled to focus on his face. “What?”

  “They took Bea, damn it!”

  I shoved him off with a stronger heave than I meant. “Taken? By whom? Where?”

  “All great questions,” he replied from the floor.

  Irritated at his non-answer, I heaved the blankets off me and jumped out of bed. His concerned eyes stared up at me. “This is not a game. Where is she?”

  “Darn it Poppy, don’t you think I’d say if I knew? I’m a Mimic, not a Godkin like you. My abilities are not as powerful as yours.”

  I extended a hand to help him up. He shoved my palm away and hauled himself up with the edge of the mattress.

  “It was a Mimic. A wolf. He snatched her out of the air and ran. But I didn’t hear a crunch. So she’s still alive. I think,” he added.

  Nausea flooded me, and I bent over and gagged. It only lasted a few seconds. Breathing slowly through my nose, I quieted the panic coursing through me. I glanced at Isaac’s unmoving form, then plucked a hair band from the top of my dresser. “Whoever did this is going to die,” I hissed as I drew my hair up and started toward the exit in one motion.

  He tried to keep up, but I was out of the apartment before he moved. His face appeared as I made it to Bea’s car.

  “Which way did they go?” I yelled. He closed the distance between us and pointed toward the road. I could feel the blood surge in my face as my fists repeatedly clenched and opened.

  “Do you sense anything?” he asked.

  I closed my eyes, inclined my head back toward the sky, and whistled a locator spell. Nothing. I pursed my lips and did it a second time, but louder. The third time, I shoved everything I had into it, straining my lips, my cheeks to tightening almost painfully.

  Frustrated, I stopped. “The guise is hindering my spell. It’s like her own magic has intensified it. It’s much stronger than the one I placed on her so long ago.”

  Isaac touched his index finger to his middle one and circled the tips around the other. After a few seconds, he did the sam
e with his other hand. He looked as frustrated as I felt.

  “Do you think-” he began.

  I shook my head and waved the back of my hand in his direction. “No. She’s alive. I would sense if she wasn’t.” I dropped into a crouch and touched the concrete, formulating a plan. “I may not be able to track her, but I can track who took her.” Then I stood back up and whistled the same spell again, this time altering it to focus on the intruder who had been here. Iridescent wolf’s prints lit up across the ground, running away from the complex and toward the city. They glowed fluorescent purple, gleaming dimly in the day’s light. They would have been an impressive light display in the dark.

  “Let’s go,” I commanded, finding a path beside them so I wouldn’t disturb the spell.

  “That was supposed to be my line,” Isaac said, nudging me over so he would be closer to the trail of light. I glared at him, then kept moving. Leave it to him to make a joke right now.

  The footprints ran straight across the roadway. They had wasted no time with caution. Finally, we saw them disappear into a building. I halted and held my arm out to signal Isaac to do the same.

  “We need a plan,” I whispered.

  “I have a plan. I’m just going to walk in there and get her,” he replied.

  “That is not a suitable strategy. What if we put her in more danger?”

  He glanced at me with concern. “You’re right,” he agreed, and planted a hand on my shoulder.