The Familiar

Mike hadn’t created a familiar since he first joined the Circle of Thorns. But the spell was easy, and once he started it, it all came flooding back to him.

He chose his brother’s old “totem” animal, a raven. Common enough in Vibora Bay. The spirit raven that came to his summons was highly intelligent, and acquiesced to wear the trappings of a real raven. He wove a strand of Teddy’s hair with the raven feathers so that he would know who to follow. He brought the bird with him to Vibora. He rented a hotel room a few blocks away from the apartment complex, and set the bird loose. Then he went home.

He didn’t want Scott to know about his suspicions. He didn’t want to cause Scott any further pain. No, he would take care of this himself.

He went to Vibora as his last stop of the evening to check on the bird, to see what it had seen. It watched the apartment complex, would see people come in and out. Tonight was probably no exception, he thought, as he trudged up the stairs to his room. He crossed the tiny room to the balcony.

There, the bird sat, and Mike gave it some berries. The bird refused them. Curious, Mike then held the bird beneath its stomach, and stared into its black eyes.

It replayed for him what it had seen: Teddy going into the apartment complex with a bald man in a motorcycle jacket and sunglasses. Mike almost dropped the bird.

Bombardier.

Could it be? Teddy and the man then reappeared on the balcony, the man, naked; Teddy, hesitating at the door. The man had red eyes. The eyes of a hungry vampire.

Mike forced himself to watch what the bird had seen, Teddy and the man–the vampire–having sex in the hot tub, and Teddy taking the man by the head, pulling him to his neck. The raven laughed, the man turned, fangs down, and it was Bombardier. Those blue-gray eyes were unmistakable, the big body, the look of anger at being interrupted.

Mike knew the spirit raven wanted to get back to the spirit realm, so he dismantled the spell right there, gave it his thanks, and sat down on the balcony’s chairs, staring out at the humid night.

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About Lisa

A writer of m/m and straight urban fantasy and military fiction. Always willing to try different genres to test things out.

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