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  That task accomplished, Ori swiped at his own bottom lip. More blood smeared onto the fabric. For a few silent seconds, Ori stared down at the vivid red smudge. It was silly to hope the hawk might want to use his mouth regardless.

  “Shall I fetch one of the other servants for you, sir?” he asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

  “Stand up.”

  Ori quickly stumbled to his feet.

  “How long have you been serving here?”

  “A few months, sir,” Ori whispered. When he glanced up, the hawk was still staring at him, a serious expression lingering in the amber eyes.

  The silence went on and on.

  “Mr Hamilton offered me a place here.”

  More silence.

  “He said it would keep me out of trouble until I can complete a full shift, and everything can be sorted out properly,” Ori added.

  “And how old are you now?”

  “Twenty, sir. I’ll turn twenty-one in June.” Ori swallowed. He knew the math. Part of him had been counting down the days ever since he’d stumbled upon the nest and found out how things were arranged among the shifters. It would be another six months before he’d reach his avian maturity and be able to complete a full shift into his avian form—six months before he had any chance of becoming a true part of the shifter community.

  The hawk looked him up and down. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the kitchen. All Ori could do was watch him go.

  Except, the hawk didn’t actually go. He paused in the doorway, looking both ways along the corridor outside the kitchens.

  “Everet!”

  The hawk remained in the doorway until a younger man, a raven who Ori had spotted in the nest a few times over the previous six months, joined him. “Watch him.”

  The raven looked into the kitchen. His eyes locked on to Ori. He nodded his acceptance of the order. When the hawk strode away, Everet came closer.

  For the third time that day, Ori found himself standing in his usual corner of the kitchen, waiting for a higher-ranking man to reach him. He had no idea what was going on anymore. Any instinct he might have had for fight or flight was too confused to even suggest a course of action.

  “Your lip’s bleeding.”

  Ori reached up and touched his mouth.

  The raven stood a few feet away from him, watching him, just as the hawk commanded. His curiosity was obvious. “Did Raynard do that to you?”

  Ori blinked. The hawk’s name was Raynard. Eventually, something more than the knowledge of the hawk’s surname sank in. Ori shook his head as he dabbed at his lip with the cloth again. “It was one of the crows, sir.”

  The raven said nothing more; he merely looked Ori over as if wondering why the hell a hawk would take any sort of interest in him.

  Ori looked down. He should have already asked himself the same question. Now that the query was in his head, the answer wasn’t far behind it. Raynard was a hawk and he was an ugly little duckling. Ori might not have been raised among shifters, but since he’d found his way into their company, he’d learnt enough to know that species was rank, and rank was everything to the avians. The only reason a hawk would ask Ori his name, was so he could suggest his dismissal.

  Even knowing his position in the nest was about to be snatched away from him, Ori found himself looking back to the dishes. “Shall I…?”

  The raven looked to the sinks and the plates piled high around them. He shrugged, causing highly defined muscles to jostle beneath his tight black t-shirt. “Raynard didn’t say you couldn’t.”

  Ori silently returned to his duties. The work might not have been enthralling, but there was a certain simplicity to it that he’d learnt to appreciate. There was something comforting about knowing exactly what was expected of him, exactly where his place in the world was.

  The raven leaned back against one of the huge cabinets to Ori’s right, arms folded across his chest as he stared vacantly into the middle distance. He was so still, so silent, Ori almost forgot he was there. Picking up a stack of the plates, he turned toward the cabinet and only just stopped short of walking into him.

  Everet straightened up and opened the cabinet door for Ori.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Not meeting Everet’s eyes, Ori turned back to the sinks. Filling them with fresh water, he looked over his shoulder. The other servants had filed back into the kitchen at some point, but they were giving both him and the raven a wide berth. One of them, a rather bedraggled pigeon, offered Ori a sympathetic smile as their eyes chanced to meet. Ori managed to return the expression, but nothing was said. Even the chef was keeping his orders and tantrums more muted than usual.

  “Everet.”

  For a moment, Ori thought it might have been Raynard’s voice that had echoed through the kitchens, but it wasn’t. The hawk hadn’t come back. Ori stayed very still as he waited for the message to be relayed, but whatever it was, it must have been communicated in nothing more than a look.

  Everet stepped away from the cabinet. “Follow me.”

  Turning off the taps and hastily drying his hands, Ori trailed after the raven. The messenger mumbled something to Everet when he reached the kitchen door, but the words were too hushed for Ori to catch.

  “Come on.” The raven set off again, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure his charge hadn’t fallen too far behind.

  Everet led him out of the communal areas of the club that all the species had access to and up a grand staircase toward the more exclusive sections of the establishment. It took more courage than Ori had known he possessed to keep going, to keep wading even farther into increasingly unfamiliar and luxurious territory.

  The dining rooms and meeting rooms on the ground floor had taken his breath away when he’d first visited the nest. He wasn’t sure what he’d have made of these higher corridors if he’d seen them on that initial visit. On each side of him, portraits stared down. Back then, he’d probably have thought they were of wealthy aristocrats, their tamed birds of prey flying in the background.

  Now, it was obvious that each portrait merely showed two sides of the same man, and there was nothing tame about the birds of prey who filled the topmost perches of the shifter hierarchy.

  Ori took a deep breath and pushed forward, his bare feet making no sound on the thick carpeting. Everet reached a mahogany door at the far end of the corridor and knocked firmly on the dark panelling.

  “Enter.”

  Everet pushed the door open and nodded for Ori to step inside. A moment later, the raven pulled the door closed without joining Ori in the room. Ori found himself in what looked like some sort of office, albeit an incredibly expensive one.

  Mr Hamilton sat behind a huge desk on the other side of the room. He glanced across at Ori. Sharp blue eyes pinned him in place until Mr Hamilton lost interest in him and turned his attention back to where Raynard sat on the opposite side of the desk. The hawk didn’t even look over his shoulder to see who had entered the room.

  Stepping to one side of the door, Ori waited patiently, inconspicuous and out of everyone’s way, until one of the birds of prey had some use for him.

  “He’s obviously not suited to the position as things stand,” Raynard bit out, each word clipped and angry.

  Ori had never heard anyone speak to Mr Hamilton that way. The eagle who ran the club was years older than Raynard, his hair already greying around his temples where Raynard’s was still deep brown, but their ranks obviously made them equals.

  Then Raynard’s actual words sunk in to Ori’s mind. Not suited to the position. He lowered his gaze to the patch of carpet directly in front of his feet. He had been right then, he was going to be dismissed?

  Thoughts tumbled through his head as he tried to work out where he might go. If they paid him off, he could probably find somewhere. But there was no reason to believe they would. They hadn’t paid him up to this point, when they’d seemed to find his service at least vaguely acceptable.

  “Do you really think he’d do better in your house?” Mr Hamilton asked, each word tinged with his rich Scottish burr.

  Ori’s gaze snapped up. He stared unbelieving at the back of Raynard’s head.

  “Yes.” No explanation. No justification. Just the answer. Raynard had made his decision, and he obviously didn’t expect anyone to argue with him—not even an eagle.

  Mr Hamilton smiled slightly. “Your time away from this nest hasn’t changed you in the faintest, has it?”

  “Is there any reason why it should have?” Raynard asked.

  Mr Hamilton shook his head at him, but the slight twist of his lips still lingered. It died only when he moved his attention to Ori. “Come here.”

  Raynard glanced over his shoulder as Ori stepped forward to stand a pace behind the hawk’s chair, and two feet to his right.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Mr Raynard is offering you a position in his house. You’d be his personal servant, answerable to him in all matters,” the eagle informed him.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’d remain under his care until you come back to us to complete your first full shift when you come of age.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ori repeated.

  Mr Hamilton glanced at Raynard before he went on, his accent thickening a little as his tone turned even more serious.

  “This isn’t an easy position—you’ll be expected to work just as hard for Mr Raynard as you do here—more so, probably. And there would be no limits put upon what Mr Raynard could expect from you or on the ways he could discipline you if your service is not up to the standard he requires. You’d belong to him completely.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ori managed again.

  Mr Hamilton looked him over one more time. “Your answer, then—you accept the position?”

  “Yes, sir.” The words were out so quickly, Ori didn’t have time for any second thoughts.

  Mr Hamilton nodded, just once. “The paperwork will be drawn up. Go to your quarters. Change out of your uniform and gather your belongings before returning here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The two birds of prey turned their attention back to each other, neither bothering to actually dismiss him. Ori backed away as unobtrusively as possible, before turning and walking silently from the room.

  Everet still stood outside the door in his seemingly habitual pose—his arms crossed and his back resting against any convenient surface. He stopped staring into the middle distance when he noticed Ori.

  Ori hesitated. “I’m to go to my quarters and change my clothes, sir.”

  The raven nodded and strode off down the corridor. He paused when he realised Ori wasn’t following him.

  “They didn’t say you had to come with me, sir.”

  “Raynard said to watch you. He hasn’t told me to stop.”

  Ori looked down. Arguing with a raven wouldn’t do him any good. The truth was his only option. “I don’t have official quarters. I’ve been staying in the servants’ area behind the kitchens, sir.”

  Everet’s expression remained impassive. He stepped to one side of the corridor and nodded for Ori to pass him. “Lead the way.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They soon left the luxury of the upper floors behind. With every step Ori took, his heart raced a little faster, until he was sure it would explode from his chest, no doubt making another mess that would need to be cleaned up before his duties were finished for the day.

  “Raynard’s taking you with him?” Everet asked as they headed down a white washed corridor behind the kitchens.

  Ori nodded. “He’s offered me a position in his house, sir.” He opened the door to a store cupboard at the end of the corridor. The clothes he’d been wearing when he arrived at the nest had been tossed in there, but there was no sign of them now.

  He rifled through what was there, trying to find something that might fit. It wasn’t easy. The clothes were a jumble of bits and pieces and there was no order to the way they’d been stored.

  He felt Everet’s eyes run up and down his back and guessed he should just be grateful that he wasn’t going to be led out of the nest just wearing the tiny black shorts.

  A pair of dark blue jeans that looked about the right size finally emerged from the chaos. Ori discovered a light green T-shirt a few minutes later. There was no sign of anything resembling a coat or underwear. Once he’d unearthed a battered pair of trainers from the very back of the disordered space, his wardrobe seemed to be as complete as it was destined to become.

  The shorts were part of the uniform that marked him out as a servant belonging to club. He didn’t belong to the club anymore. He belonged to Raynard. Ori took off the shorts.

  Everet remained in the doorway. Ori kept his back to him, hoping that he wouldn’t notice that the idea of becoming Raynard’s personal servant was already having an effect on him.

  His cock was half hard at the very thought of servicing Raynard the way he had so many of the men in the nest. At the same time, his stomach re-knotted itself with nerves. Taking a deep breath, Ori pulled on the jeans.

  It had been months since he’d worn anything more than those miniscule shorts. The crumpled denim tubes felt strange around his legs. The material in the T-shirt was softer, but Ori still shrugged uncomfortably as the garment settled around him, clinging and suffocating every time he moved.

  The trainers were a size too big. Ori wasn’t sure if that made them more or less comfortable now that his feet had become accustomed to being bare all day. Laces tied, Ori rose to his full height, such as it was. With the image of the hawk fresh in his mind, he felt far too small to be of any use to anyone.

  “Raynard’s not a bad guy; he’s better than most of the birds of prey. Do as he tells you, and you’ll be fine,” Everet offered.

  Ori nodded, wrapping the hope Everet’s words gave him around him as best he could. “Thank you, sir.”

  As he heard the raven step back, Ori forced himself to turn and walk out of the little storeroom too. Long before he was ready for it, he found himself back in Mr Hamilton’s office, once more standing to one side of the door as he waited for the other men to recognise his presence.

  If Mr Hamilton had seen him return, he made no mention of it. Ori had no idea if Raynard had sensed anyone enter the room behind him.

  The birds of prey stood up and shook hands. Raynard turned around. He didn’t look surprised to see him. Ori got the distinct impression that there was very little that escaped the hawk’s attention, even if he didn’t choose to turn around and stare at it.

  Raynard walked out of the room without a word, leaving Ori to trail along behind him, scurrying to keep up with the taller man’s longer stride as best he could. They were out of the building and standing in the car park before Ori had quite caught up with events. He hesitated as the chill winter air whipped against him.

  Closing his eyes, he relished the way the sunlight caressed his face. It had been months since he felt the sun on him. When he looked up, the world above him seemed impossibly big; the wide expanse of sky above him was both immense and terrifying. He instinctively took a half-step back toward the safety of the building.

  “When was the last time you left the nest?”

  Ori turned his eyes toward the hawk. Raynard stood next to a sleek black sports car, keys already in his hand. Ori blinked at him, unable to make his mind work quickly.

  “A few months, sir.” That was no excuse for keeping Raynard waiting. Standing on the threshold to the outside world, he waited to be told if he had displeased Raynard so badly he’d be sent back before he had even truly left.

  “Come here.”

  Ori stepped forward. Eyes lowered, he stood before his new employer, waiting for his verdict.

  “Get in.”

  Raynard nodded to the passenger side door. Ori obeyed, fumbling his way into the seat and pulling the door closed after him. The hawk moved around the car and slid behind the wheel, folding his tall frame into the low-slung space as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

  A moment later, the engine roared into action. Without another glance at his new servant, Raynard drove them both away from the nest.

  Chapter Two

  Frederick Raynard changed gears as the car escaped the worst of the traffic in the centre of the city and made its way into a quieter, less built up part of town. The office blocks gradually faded away in favour of the kind of houses the men who owned those office blocks tended to live in.

  His newly acquired servant sat silently by his side. Every so often, Raynard felt Ori glance at him, but the duckling didn’t go so far as to speak without being spoken to. Raynard wasn’t sure if that could be taken as a sign that he’d been trained for silent service, or if the poor little sod was just as nervous as hell.

  Raynard mentally shook his head at himself. The last thing he needed was an untrained servant on top of everything else, but there was nothing to be done about it now. He was stuck with him for at least the next six months.

  Still, the boy couldn’t have been left at the nest—not when he’d have remained a sitting duck to the other men’s cruelty. A sitting duck… Raynard held back a sigh as he turned a corner.

  He had to wonder if Hamilton’s control over the other avians was failing. He’s never made any complaints about his treatment here. Raynard revved the engine a little more forcefully than he intended as the eagle’s words replayed inside his head. Ori probably hadn’t complained about the fact that he’d not been let out of the nest for months, either.

  “Do you have a family?” Raynard asked.

  Ori glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, but quickly dropped his gaze. “I had foster families, sir.”

  Raynard filed that fact away, in amongst the jumble of business dealings that had recently taken over his world. If nothing else, it explained why Ori couldn’t be certain of the species he’d shift into when he came of age, and why they were relying on the elders’ best guess based on a partial shift.

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