Read Watcher: A raven paranormal romance (Crookshollow ravens Book 1) for Free Online Page B

expressing its indignation.
    “What the fuck are you doing?” A driver called out as I stepped in front of him. Ignoring the honks and insults that were now pouring out of rolled-down windows, I lunged for the bird. He hopped out of the way at the last moment, limping directly into the path of another car.
    “Just let me get my raven!” I cried to the driver, who slammed on the brakes just as I lunged for the bird again. This time, he flapped his wings and managed to hop a couple of feet into the air, hitting the car’s radiator before coming crashing down again. As he tumbled across the curb, I managed to grab him, push his wings down, and shove him back in the box.
    “Why would you do that, you idiot!” I growled, as I held the box tightly. The raven cooed in reply. Traffic poured through the intersection, drivers holding their middle fingers out of the car windows as they hurtled past. My pounding heart slowed again. I was safe. The raven had lost a few more feathers, but was otherwise safe, too. Everything was OK.
    I unlocked the shop, and went straight up the steps at the back of the kitchen to my apartment. Chairman Meow greeted me at the door in his usual way, by wrapping his fat, fluffy body around my ankles and rubbing his face merrily against my legs. He stopped mid-rub as he noticed the box in my hands. His eyes grew as big as saucers. He stood on his hind legs and tapped the side of the box.
    CROAK! The raven snapped back, flapping its working wing madly. The Chairman darted away. He hid behind the kitchen cabinet, his little nose twitching as he smelled the strange visitor I’d brought home. The raven flung itself madly in circles as it tried to hop out of the box again. Chairman Meow flattened his ears against the back of his head, and crouched low on the floor. This wasn’t going to end well.
    “Sorry boy, he’s not for you.” I set the box on the table, picked up the Chairman by the scruff of his neck, and locked him in the bathroom. He raked his claws against the door, loudly protesting at my cruel treatment. How dare I deprive him of the most interesting thing to happen all week? He didn’t want to kill the raven. He just wanted to be friends.
    Which was probably true. Despite his name, Chairman Meow was a bit of a pacifist. He liked to chase butterflies around the alleyway out the back of the shop and watch the birds from the window, but he didn’t have much interest in killing anything. Which was somewhat annoying, since I’d bought him from Barry originally because I thought he’d help keep down the mouse population in the bakery. Instead, he liked to watch with saucer eyes from the top of the stairs while the mice made little white flour-trails across the kitchen below.
    But the raven didn’t know that, and it was going crazy, flapping its wings and trying to leap out of the box. Blood splattered from the wound in its leg, and I could see a pool of blood in the box underneath it. I needed to clean the wound before I did anything else.
    I dug out the first aid kit from the cupboard and set it down on the counter. With one hand, I held the raven down as gently as possible, while I cleaned off the dried blood caked around the wound in the raven’s leg. I noticed that black ring again. One of the local conservation groups must’ve been tagging the birds. I wondered if they’d come looking for him.
    It was strange, but as soon as the raven saw me coming toward it with the swab, it relaxed. It was almost as if the bird knew I was trying to help it.
    Sadly, I wasn’t sure how much I could do. Even after cleaning it, the wound looked pretty bad, and when I touched the skin around the cut, it felt hot. Maybe I should take him to the vet after all?
    But then I remembered my overdraft, and the fact that the cupboard was nearly empty and the only furniture in the room was an electric frying pan and a couch I’d found on the side of the road. I had 100 quid left to last me the rest of the month.