Raven Chapter 10 Sticky Floors and Sex Lists 111 #2
I start the process of heaving myself up just as Dre sighs. “Forrest, perhaps the interrogation can wait until she’s upright and not in immediate distress. She did just save our lives.”
If I could run without falling, I’d be kissing him right now.
But I have other priorities—namely, not picking myself up off the ground.
.. again. As I make my way toward them as carefully as possible, I watch as Em and Anik step forward, flanking Forrest. The closer I get, the more new scents bombard my senses, and I feel like one of those human Christmas trees—suddenly and completely lit up from the inside.
Something hits me. Dry. Warm. Like heat rising off a stone that's been baking in the sun all day, except there's no sun here.
Underneath it, a clean, sharp woodiness—cedar?
Pine? I don't know my trees. I was a ghost, not a lumberjack.
Whatever it is, it has to be Forrest. Who else would smell like a very warm, very stern tree?
Then something wilder slams in. Electric, like a storm about to crack open, plus this deep, primal thing that feels unmovable and hungry and please run so I can chase you .
My heart—which is new and still learning—does this weird flip.
Anik. Half of me wants to bolt just to see if he follows.
The other half wants to curl up in his lap and make biscuits. It’s very confusing.
Finally, a wave of quiet complexity cuts through. Crisp—old paper energy—but with this soft sweetness hiding underneath. It’s a paradox—just like the elf whose eyes bore into me.
Em is staring unabashedly, his head tilted as he examines me like he’d like to dissect me and figure out what makes me tick. He pulls out one of his ancient-looking leather notepads and starts scribbling, completely oblivious. So, I veer toward Anik first.
His entire body is tense, arms crossed, muscles bulging.
His jaw looks like it might crack under the pressure.
I watch as something flickers in his eyes—something dark and possessive—before he shoves it down.
I ignore it all as I reach him and immediately move my hands to his head.
It seems easy, but the man is a freaking tree.
It’s a struggle. I have to physically pull his face down, my fingers tangling in his surprisingly soft hair, the muscles in my arms protesting the effort.
“Stop… glowering… at everyone.” I say through gritted teeth, finally getting him to my level.
Gods, he smells even more divine up close.
Like wild, hungry things. “We’re fine. All in one piece.
No need to declare war on the floor.” Then I can’t help moving my hands to the base of his hairline, where the hair isn’t so soft.
“Oooh, prickly. Is this what a cactus is supposed to feel like? Or maybe a cat’s tongue?
Those things have to feel weird, right?”
A low rumble vibrates through his chest. It’s a sound that feels less like a growl and more like the earth shifting. He doesn’t pull away, just lets me hold him there, my hands mindlessly working through his hair as his own hands flex at his sides.
I hear Em muttering off to the side regarding me, the “anomaly,” and my current display, where I am apparently “establishing a security protocol with the primary territorial asset.” I’m just happy to finally be real and interesting enough to warrant study from Emerson.
And Forrest’s voice, cold and sharp as a blade. “Emerson, stop documenting the security breach and help me contain it. Anik, step away from the unknown entity.”
But Anik doesn’t move. He’s trapped by my hands, and for the first time since I fell, the world narrows to just this—the tension under my palms, the heat of his breath on my face, and the terrifying, thrilling realization that I might be the only thing in the room he’s listening to.
I roll my eyes at Forrest's ridiculous statement—the one that definitely does not hurt. After all, I love being called a security breach and an unknown entity.
Denial, I’m proud to call you a friend.
When I finally extricate myself from Anik, I take a wobbly step to the side and peer up at Forrest, shaking my head at his stony expression.
“I’ll just wait until you’re not so grumpy,” I say, giving him finger guns before stumbling one last step over to Em.
He cocks his head again, his notebook now vanished.
The look in his eyes is intensely focused, and I preen under it.
He’s looking at me like I’m the most fascinating puzzle he’s ever seen, and that’s the highest compliment he could give.
I do what I’ve been wanting to do for years: I step up and wrap my arms around him.
He’s tense, but it doesn’t matter as his scent—ancient books and surprising sweetness—wraps around me.
I almost jolt at the feel of a finger running softly across my cheek, then just smile as I hear him start to mutter. “A ghost? No. Energy absorption? I’ll have to run tests. Spontaneous corporealization? Unprecedented.”
I feel a weird, sharp tug at my scalp and look up at him as I step back. “Did you just take my hair?”
He simply shrugs, producing a small plastic baggie. “For science.”
I give him a beaming smile before turning back to Forrest. Shockingly, he’s still grumpy. He just blinks at me a few times, so while he’s processing, I reach up and put my thumbs on either side of his lips, physically moving them into a smile.
“Such a grumpy gargoyle,” I say in a silly voice, and hear a cough that sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
Forrest's eyes flash. Before I can blink, his hands are around my wrists, grip tight enough to ache. The easy warmth from a second ago I was feeling? Gone. No where for it to hide while he's looking at me like I'm a threat. Whatever he's calculating? I'm not sure I want to be the answer.
“Where did you acquire this intel? Explain.” His voice is low and dangerous. His eyes narrow when I just blink dumbly at him. “How did you know I was a gargoyle? What else do you know?”
I look from his hardened face down to the hands restraining my wrists.
"Well, I know you're a gargoyle, Anik is a panther shifter," I say, trying to point sideways at him.
It doesn't work well with my wrists trapped.
"Em is an elf," I continue, nodding toward him, then bite my lip, "or part-elf, at least. And I have no idea what those two are," I add, using my thumbs to gesture weakly behind me.
"You guys don't really talk about that stuff much.
" I finish with a shrug, trying to project a calm I don't feel.
Forrest's gaze grows harder, his frustration at his own perceived failure sharpening his words. "So you've been spying on us?"
I give him my most intimidating look, which probably isn't very intimidating at all. "No." Then I press my lips together. "Well... maybe a little. But I didn't really have a choice."
"Who do you work for, then?" he asks, his tone still hard as flint.
I groan in frustration. "No one, you suspicious idiot!" I look at the other two, who also wear varying degrees of suspicion. "Oh, god balls, this is really hard to explain."
"What are you?" Emerson asks, his voice clinical.
I shrug, my wrists still captured. "No idea. I was a ghost. Well, technically not a ghost, because I couldn't interact with anything in the Veil. But I also wasn't on this side, or else I would have been corporeal like I am now.”
Forrest lets go of my wrists, and in that exact moment, my knees decide to give up, buckling beneath me. Before I can even think to right myself, I'm falling to the floor. This time, Leandre isn't there to catch me. Instead of trying to get up again, I simply lie there, defeated.
"I didn't know being a real girl would be so hard," I groan to the ceiling. "I'm just going to stay down here for a while."
I immediately look on the bright side—because what else is there for a newly corporeal gal to do—and start to soak up all the new sensations.
I regret this decision when I realize the floor is sticky. Why is it sticky? And why is the sensation of something sticky so gross? Maybe it's because there's a smell with it—one that can't even come close to the guys and their mouthwatering aromas.
“I don’t see how we can take any of this at face value. She is an unknown,” Forrest states, his voice leaving no room for argument. “The timing is too suspicious. I say we take her to the Council and let them deal with her.”
Every part of me rebels. I jackknife up, my voice edging on hysterical.
“No! Please, don’t send me to them. Anywhere but there.
” My body vibrates, and I pause, cataloging the new sensation.
When I realize it was a shiver—a real, bone-deep shiver—I fist-pump the air.
“Hell yeah! My first shiver!” Then I remember what caused it, and another one wracks me.
“I mean what I said. If you’re going to send me away, send me anywhere but to them. ”
Forrest’s eyes narrow to slits. “So you admit to knowing the Council?”
I shake my head, the burst of adrenaline fading.
"No. I know them through everyone else's bad opinions and their even worse regulations.
I've tried to go with you a few times, but I just couldn't hack it.
The vibes are off. They've always been off.
I could feel it from the very first time I tried to come with you after I started stalki—I mean, following you guys. "
“And when, exactly, was that?” Forrest snaps.
No longer able to hold myself up, I slump back to the ground, exhausted. I’ll take the stickiness over using my muscles for one more second. “Like, five years ago? Give or take a few months. Timekeeping is not my strength.”
I hear two sets of footsteps and turn my head to watch Dre and Kieran approach. It’s Dre who speaks, his eyes fixed on Forrest.
“I need to assess her injuries and patch her up before we do anything else,” he says in his doctor’s voice.
Forrest gives a curt nod. “Agreed. We’ll move her to a secure location for further questioning.”
"How secure are we talking?" I ask, images bombarding me as my excitement ratchets up. "Soft restraints, or are we talking one of those wooden sex crosses? Both are on my list."
Kieran’s head pops into view above me, a wide grin spreading across his face. “What’s this list yer goin’ on about, then?”
I give him my best imitation of a sultry grin—though, not knowing what my face looks like, I’m not confident I’m pulling it off. “My sex list, dear.”
A bark of laughter escapes him, and he seems to vibrate on the spot. “Ye have an entire list?”
I nod seriously. “Well, of course. Bondage is a no-brainer. I feel like I could almost call it entry-level. Also, I still need chocolate. Where can I get some of that?” I look over at Em and smile widely. “For science.”
“We have some at home.” Kieran extends his hand to me, and I take it.
“Dibs!” I yell the second I’m standing.
Everyone looks at me like I have a screw loose—except Kieran, who is, once again, staring at me like he’s on the best rollercoaster of his life, and I’m the one steering it.
Em is the one who voices the question in everyone’s eyes. “Dibs on what?”
“The far corner seat. Grey couch, blue pillow.” I sigh dreamily, excited to finally experience the true comfort of a spot I’ve been eyeing for half a decade.
They all just stare. Some are open-mouthed, some curious, some borderline hostile (I’ll let you guess who).
I just forge onward, making my way to the door behind the trio when I trip again, right as I'm passing Anik.
I sigh, bracing for impact, but it never comes.
Instead, Anik catches me, scooping me effortlessly into his arms.
"Thanks, Ani-Bear," I tell him, patting his chest. A guffaw echoes from somewhere behind us.
A low vibration rumbles through his chest, and I can't help but hum along. I have no idea what sound he's making, but it’s a deep echo that reverberates down to my bones. I lay my head against him and close my eyes, soaking in the sensations: the warmth of his body, the steady thump of his heartbeat under my ear, the way the air moves across my skin, the symphony of smells. It should be overwhelming, but after forty years of nothing, every feeling—good or bad—is a blessing. I’ll take it all.
I relax, listening to the world around me in this new, blessedly real way. Between Anik's heartbeat and the sway of being carried, my eyes start to go. I catch myself, then lose the fight, muttering something about my eyes before I'm out.