Chapter 9
9
Tanya
C hris, Carl, James and I sit in Birch Coffee, nursing our drinks. I can tell they’re nervous because Chris’s knee shakes as Carl looks around, his blue gaze intent.
“You said he was a birder?” I ask in a hesitant voice before sipping at my java.
James nods, his mouth set in a grim line.
“Unfortunately, yes. I’m sorry, honey. We should have been more careful. I never thought to check the trees for avian friends.”
I cover his big hand with my small one.
“No, it’s not your fault,” I say in a gentle tone. “I never thought to do that either, and besides, the trees aren’t even big. It’s surprising that a bird would make a home in one of them, much less a hawk.”
After all, James shared the email he got with us, with every intention of confronting Henry alone. But Chris, Carl and I insisted on coming along. We’re all parties to this fiasco, and so reluctantly, James agreed to our presence. Still, my men are brimming with possession and fury because we know that it’s very likely that someone’s been watching our steamy sessions, and has gotten an eyeful of my luscious curves in the process.
My heart drops at that thought because the spy is clearly a disgusting voyeur. He’s probably sixty years old with a bald, shiny pate, and rotting teeth. I can see it now: a middle-aged pervert with the build of a scrawny teenage boy, and the manners of a child. My mood deflates when I think about the upcoming confrontation. It’s not going to be fun, that’s for sure.
But at that moment, a handsome man enters the café, looking around like he’s searching for someone. He sees us sitting at a table and lifts one hand in greeting.
Immediately, my heart begins to hammer. This is the neighborhood pervert? The man looks like Henry Cavill from Superman, and not the spindly, putrid freak that I was envisioning in my mind. He has the same dark hair and penetrating blue eyes, as well as the physique of a Marvel superhero. His broad shoulders fill out a blue button down, and the stranger has to be at least six three or six four with his long legs clad in dark denim. Wow, I had no idea that birders looked like this.
The man strides over to us and nods.
“I’m Henry,” he introduces himself in a deep voice. “You’re the folks from the building, I presume?” Weird! His name is actually Henry, like the actor?
“You presume correctly,” James says in a frigid voice while standing. I shoot him a warning look and smile at Henry.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Tanya, and this is James, Chris and Carl. We’re the residents of the bird building, I guess is what we could call it.”
“Henry Cutler,” the man replies, shaking our hands in turn. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Would you like a coffee?” I ask.
He shakes his head, sitting down with a smile.
“No. I know it’s rude but the café’s busy, so I don’t think they’ll notice if I buy nothing. If they do notice, I’ll grab a croissant later. But yeah, thanks for meeting me. As I wrote in the email, you have a red-tail hawk nesting in one of the trees on your roof. Which means that he or she has a partner, and soon, you’ll have baby hawks too.”
“Wow,” I murmur. “Just wow.”
“Our trees are small,” Chris growls. “Why would the hawks pick our building? Isn’t Central Park a better location? With prey, and greenery, and all?”
“Maybe,” Henry says, shrugging his broad shoulders. “But sometimes hawks find a site that they like and decide to try it out. Besides, you guys are close enough to Central Park that they can still hunt squirrels and other small prey there. Your trees aren’t that tiny either. What are they? Scotch pines?”
“Yeah,” Carl says grudgingly. “As our resident gardener-in-charge, I know they were purchased about twenty years before I moved in. We had an old owner who nurtured the trees to the size they are now. It takes a lot of work because they’re obviously in containers and need to be watered constantly. We have professional gardeners coming in once a month, but I like to keep an eye on things myself.”
“Of course,” Henry says agreeably. “Scotch pines are a lot of work but a lot of buildings in NYC use them as rooftop greenery actually.”
“Oh, do they also have families of red-tailed hawks nesting in their trees?” I ask with enthusiasm.
Henry chuckles.
“No, only you guys have them, so you’re lucky that way. But you know that Pale Male in Central Park is a red-tailed hawk, right? He’s one of the first hawks to raise chicks in an urban environment.”
I start.
“Pale Male? Really?”
Henry nods.
“Yeah, the famous one, although Pale Male died recently. He lived to his thirties though, which is a long time for any animal in the wild. Not only that, but his nest wasn’t exactly in Central Park. It was at one of those big, fancy co-ops on Fifth Avenue.”
“Holy shit,” Carl whistles. “The co-op didn’t run him out?”
“They did,” Henry replies in a wry voice. “But there was international outcry, and so the co-op decided to let the birds stay. Pale Male raised a lot of chicks too. He was a patriarch of sorts, with a number of different female partners, but they’re gone now with his death. In the meantime, I could show you the birds nesting on your rooftop if you like. I brought my binoculars, although you won’t need them since the trees on your property aren’t that huge.”
I start.
“You want to see the hawks now?”
Henry shrugs and grins, his expression humorous.
“If you’re up for it. I realize that we just met, but I swear, I’m not trying to rob you or stalk you or anything. We can even start by looking at your rooftop from the roof of the library across the street. That’s how I found you guys. I can see your building from the library’s pavilion.”
I stare at him.
“The public library?”
Henry winks.
“The one and only.”
“Alright, let’s check it out,” Carl says in a deep voice. “We’ll see what’s visible from that vantage point and then go from there.”
Henry grins, standing up.
“Let’s get at it then.”
Stunned, I stand before exchanging glances with James, Carl, and Chris. This man doesn’t seem like a criminal, but then again, that’s not what we were expecting either. Instead, we suspected Henry of being a voyeuristic pervert, but now he’s offering to show us the bird family nesting on our roof. Is it possible the handsome man’s actually normal? It seems hard to believe, but there’s only one way to find out.
* * *
Within a few minutes, we’ve entered the New York Public Library. There’s a branch across from our building, and sure enough, Henry leads us up the stairs to the rooftop.
“Are we supposed to be here?” I ask as he pushes open a heavy metal door.
“Not exactly,” Henry acknowledges with a sly grin. “But this particular library doesn’t have working fire alarms, so I’ve been able to come up here on the sly. You know how the city is. New York’s always short on money, and so they find ways to cut costs in the worst ways possible.”
I shake my head.
“But skimping on fire alarms? That’s terrible. People could lose their lives!”
Henry nods his dark head.
“Absolutely. I’ve called 3-1-1 multiple times about this issue, and they took my messages, but the fact is that I think the higher ups already know. Again, I believe that the non-working fire alarms are deliberate. It’s really sad.”
The four of us are quiet as we circle around the terrace until we’re facing our building. Then, Henry squints as he looks at our rooftop before bringing the binoculars to his eyes.
“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t think the hawk’s there right now, but there’s definitely a nest among the branches.”
He hands the binoculars to me, and I hold them to my eyes.
“Hmm, where am I supposed to be looking here?”
“Try the top of the tallest scotch pine,” Henry says. “About three quarters of the way up. Look to the interior, near the trunk.”
I scan over the tree slowly, and then sure enough, my eyes alight upon a dark mass among the branches.
“Is that what I think it is?”
James whistles by my side, his gaze fixed in the same direction.
“I think I see it too. There’s a bunch of twigs, but I don’t see anything moving.”
But then, something twitches as I watch the nest, and I go still.
“Wait a minute, I think I see the hawk. Wait a minute … wait a minute … yes, there he is!” I breathe in an excited voice. “He’s got a dark head and wings, and a cream-colored breast. There’s nothing really red about his feathers.”
Henry takes the binoculars from me, peering through the glass.
“You’re right,” he muses. “Maybe this is a Harlan’s Hawk, which has a marbled white, brown, and gray tail instead of a red one.”
“Oh, so it’s not a red-tailed hawk?” I ask with interest.
Henry replies without looking away from the binoculars.
“No, Harlan’s Hawks are just a type of red-tailed hawk. It’s a darker-colored version. They used to think Harlan’s Hawks were a different species, until ornithologists discovered individuals with intermediate coloring between Harlan's and more typical red-tailed hawks.”
Then, the binoculars are passed around until everyone’s gotten a chance to see our new resident.
“Holy shit,” Chris remarks.
“Never have I ever,” Carl agrees.
I giggle.
“That’s the name of a new show produced by Mindy Kaling.”
“ Holy Shit is the name of a TV show?” Chris asks with surprise. “That’s weird. Do they not have censors anymore?
“No, Never Have I Ever is the name,” I say mirthfully. “Not the swear words.”
“That makes more sense,” James agrees in a deep growl. But then his mood shifts and he turns to Henry.
“So now that you’ve shown us the hawk and its nest, what’s in it for you?” he asks, ever the perceptive lawyer. “What do you get from all this? What do you want?”
Henry remains unperturbed, his handsome mien neutral.
“Funny you should ask,” he says. “Because I think what I’m about to say is going to blow your mind.”
That makes all three men turn to him fully, their stances braced for whatever’s coming.
“What do you mean?” Carl growls, his blue eyes already beginning to spark fire.
“What do you want?” Chris demands, his hackles rising.
James holds one big hand up.
“Okay, calm down, ladies. Let’s give the man a chance to answer before we jump him.”
Henry nods, his dark hair ruffling in the wind. His jaw is square and his nose a perfect right angle. Goodness, this man is so handsome that my knees go weak looking at him.
“All I’m saying is that we’ve seen something special, and there’s more to it than just a red-tailed hawk.”
“As in?” James drawls, a black brow arching. Henry takes a deep breath before meeting our eyes with an intense blue gaze.
“As in I’m a member of the Order of the Raptor,” he says in a calm voice. “And we believe we’ve found our Queen Mother. That woman is Tanya,” he says, turning to me, blue eyes flashing. “We’ve seen your moonlight rituals, and they’re captivating. Not only that, but the hawk has chosen you, from the millions of women in New York City.”
I flush, taken aback by his admission.
“Wait, what?”
But Henry loses no time. To our surprise, the handsome man drops to his knees before me, and bends to press his face to the ground.
“My Queen, we worship you. You are our most holy spirit,” he intones. “The Order of the Raptor is at your service, beautiful goddess.”
Chris, James, Carl and I stare at each other in shock as the gorgeous stranger prostrates himself at my feet. Is this really happening? This man believes that Tanya is some type of spiritual queen? And what in the world is the Order of the Raptor? I look on in wonder at the handsome stranger, taken aback but also excited to learn more.