Where the Ravens Roost

Touching down at PDX had felt almost surreal. He hadn't been here in over a year and forgotten all the tiny aspects that made the place what it was - home.

Not that he hated his parents and their apartment back in Chicago, but he had spent as much time being a Raven as a Reyes since he had learned of his heritage at fifteen. If it had been up to him, he'd had moved in altogether, like his cousin.

He stepped up the stairs to the resort with something close to reverence. The dark hall was more regal than he recalled -- the alcoves, wood textures, patterned carpets and flowing mahogany furniture pieces all smoothed over in memory, now present in overwhelming detail.

He hadn't spoken to Kamron in a long time, but the Asian concierge burst into a genuine grin on sight.

"Alec!" Kamron said. "Exactly on time."

"Almost," Alec said and put down his luggage. He took off his rain-wet coat, revealing an oversized sleeveless shirt over leather pants.

"You got more hunky. Europe looks good on you."

"Haha, thanks. I do try. Uh, here." Alec handed over the largest package. "It's the portrait. Be careful with it. I can handle my suitcases myself."

"Great. I left your room unlocked. Welcome home."

A thin figure in black stepped out from behind a column where shadows had not been dark enough to hide her as well as they'd done.

"Alec, so good to see you," the pale lady said. "Your grandfather mentioned you'd arrive today."

"Good to see you, too, Sloane."

"Your family's collection has a trophy more, all thanks to your impressive work. My friends and I may request your service at some point."

"Naturally," Alec said, with a smirk. "I have quite a few new tricks up my-"

"Aaaleeeec!"

Jasper came barreling down the stairs and threw himself into his cousin's arms, whirling them both around.

Another minute of hellos later, Jasper and Alec carried two pieces of luggage each along the corridor. Alec walked slow, taking in the familiar sight of blossoming peonies all over the courtyard below.

"What do you wanna do?" Jasper asked, tearing him from meandering thoughts. "Once you've acclimated, we should hit up some of your favorite spots, no?"

Alec grunted. "That story about you fighting the guitar player? Haven't stopped thinking about it since. I'd like to try playing siren for a whole club or bar or something, have men throw themselves at each other right in front of their girlfriends."

"Alec," Jasper said with a warning tone. "Don't make me send Laz' after you."

"Hehe, sure. I doubt I'm nearly powerful enough for that anyway. We'll keep it subtle. Unless I borrow a few more strings." He raised the arm with the wristlet, flexing under the weight of a large duffle bag.

"You *better* keep it subtle. But yeah," Jasper sighed, "it was the hottest thing that's ever happened to me. We'll see what we can do. That much power from just a fraction of a true siren's voice."

"Hey," Alec said, mock-offended. "I *am* a true siren."

"Hehe. Almost makes me understand why warlocks happen."

"Sounds like *I'm* siccing Laz' on *you* soon."

Samuel Mondragon left his grand suite, wearing a deep-v shirt and a stunning smile.

"Hi Sammy."

"Hey," Sammy said. "Look who's finally made it home." He gave Alec a once-over. "If you want to go out, let me know."

"We will," Alex said and could feel Sammy turn in passing for a look at his backside.

Alec leaned toward his cousin. "Last time I saw him he was straight. What happened?"

Jasper chuckled. "Long story. I think he was more bi than he let on to begin with. Mixing the 'event' at the bar with a few other bits and pieces has reformed him. Literally reformed, maybe. He's had a hunky policeman over a few times. I should be mad he stole from us but..."

"Hehe, wouldn't mind putting his reformation to the test," Alec said with a grin.

They made it into the family suite. The living room hadn't noticeably changed, safe for a new coffee maker and the color of the peonies on the end table -- now white. The flower stirred more memories than even the family photos above the dressed stone fireplace.

They dragged their bags and suitcases past Jasper's room and into Alec's.

Somehow Alec had expected spider webs and layers of dust but of course his room had been well taken care off. He had matured a lot in one year, and the room did not reflect that.

The rainbow keyboard now felt tacky. The skateboard on the wall seemed to belong to someone else entirely. The 'workout inspiration' on the walls felt a little embarrassing in their amount -- posters of muscled men to pine over, less inspiring and more depressing for their once-assumed unattainability. But Kamron had been right, Alec had grown in mass and in confidence.

It felt like a teen's room, when he hadn't been a teen in quite a while, but only a year away had let his mind catch up. He was still quite fond of the furnishings of faux leather and metal, though. He'd want to take that further.

"Thinking of redecorating?" Jasper said.

"Man, you gotta stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Mindreading." Alec punched his cousin in the biceps.

"No such thing."

"You can keep saying that and maybe I'll believe it someday, creep."

Jasper threw an arm around his shoulder. "Just our family bond, brother from the same grandmother."

"Man, I thought we retired that phrase."

"Never, hehe."

"And why do I never get premonitions about what going on in *your* mind? Fucking heir privilege. Or maybe you're too much of a himbo to have thoughts, hehe."

"Bitch, shut your whore mouth. You're the cum-brained one."

Alec sighed with deep relief. "It's good to be back, Jasper. So fucking good."

Outside on the windowsill, a black-feathered bird cocked its head.

==========+++++==========

A brutally hard circuit at the gym, a hot shower, and an hour long edging session on his bed was all it took for Alec to feel like he had never left.

Tucked into his blankets, he drifted off, thinking of his occult adventures and sexual exploits.

Until...

Was he bleeding? Profusely? What created all this wetness on his skin, spreading rapidly?

Creeped out, just shy of alarmed, Alec fumbled with his bedside lamp.

Squinting in the light, he saw black fluid crawling up both arms. At each hand, under his blanket, a long pen of artfully swirling glass had been placed.

Searing pain struck into his arm muscles and Alec grunted through his teeth. The ink spread rapidly and resisted his frantic attempts to wipe it off.

He tried screaming but his voice was gone. It didn't feel like he was physically blocked from shouting, more like some kind of perfectly matched white noise canceled the sound before it reached even his own ears.

He jumped out of bed, his dick slapped his muscular thighs, still semi-hard from edging.

Stumbling over nothing, he fell to his knees and crawled to the door. It wouldn't open, as if someone else pushed again it.

The ink-poison was gripping his heart from both sides, tendrils inside him pressing down on his organs.

Alec tried to *think* at Jasper, to call through their bond, if it was even real. That was when he sensed it: The *house* was blocking him. The door held *itself* shut.

Raven Manor *wanted* him dead.

But why? Neither the patriarch nor the heir had any reason to betray him. With new, colder horror in his veins, the hunk raced to the window. If he threw himself outside... he'd still die from the ink in his heart, but he'd be free of the house. Maybe...

Alec's strength waned and he went on all fours in the middle of his room. His heart gave out and...

...

Alec stood before the object - the gate - that leaned against the wall. He was unblinking, unbreathing, naked, the ink still wrapped around his fibers under the skin.

He stepped inside.

...

The first sunrays stretched across the dew-sprinkled back garden, broke past the semi-opaque curtains and tickled Jasper's nose.

The hunk half-dozed, writhing his sleep-tightened body into lazy stretches as he waited for his morning wood to subside. A few birds hopped across his windowsill -- ravens. Even more collected in the hemlock branches outside.

Someone hammered on the door to the family quarters as if they wanted to break the old, polished mahogany apart.

Jasper jerked awake but stayed in bed, more annoyed by the interruption than curious about the source.

"Alec!" came a female voice from the outside. "Jasper, open up. He's killing Alec."

The heir slipped into briefs and rushed out of the room. With a glance back at Alec's closed door, he opened to find Cecilia in the corridor.

The woman wore a striped turtleneck and bell bottoms. Her sweater was too warm for the time and place, so Jasper figured she had just arrived.

"Cecil-"

"He's got Alec," she said, looking left and right as if fearing to be overheard. "Or he's *going* to. I came as soon as I had an opening but the 60s are pulling me back already."

"Wha-?"

"You wouldn't have found out for *days*. He's so clever. Orion."

"Orion?"

"He came out by switching Alec in. In a few day's you'd have found out and told me to bring the message back. Please tell me I'm on time."

Jasper bailed from the entryway and rammed his body into Alec's door as he pulled the handle. The door creaked under his panicked assault as it revealed an empty room. The bedsheets were tangled, but nothing else was obviously amiss.

"Cecilia, how did-"

She was already gone, unable to defy her arbitrary voyage for long.

It took Jasper only a minute to get ready, slipping into jeans that fit tight to his muscular legs and a loosely hanging tee, thinking through all the implications of Cecilia's words.

With one last look at Alec's room, to make sure he wasn't missing an obvious hint, Jasper left to find Mordecai when he heard the man's voice from the courtyard. His grandfather had never raised his voice like that. What was going on?

The yard's glass roof was darkened by the fluttering of a few dozen wings, the ravens hopping across the panes at the roof's edge.

Jasper made it down the backside staircase in a few jumps and burst into a conversation between his grandfather in an immaculate burgundy suit and a stranger in a casual, black, off the rack, suit.

Wait, the suit was tailored, just for a broader frame. It was Alec's!

The stranger's face wasn't familiar per se, but Jasper knew exactly where he'd have seen the visage if he had looked yesterday.

Orion was a pale, black-haired guy with trimmed scruff and just a little shorter than Jasper.

"Now now," Orion said. "Don't be so childish, Mordecai."

"Chil- Don't you lay another finger on her!"

The portrait of grandmother passionately singing was off its mounting and leaned on the wall where Orion had put it down.

The scruffy ancestor -- by several centuries, Jasper reminded himself -- gave the frame a pat. "I know adding the Browns to the bloodline was for the good of the family."

Mordecai scoffed harshly, but Orion continued. "We're not getting *rid* of the painting, but she is simply no Raven. There are plenty of images to replace her. Maybe Uncle Henry from the Lounge. Or Narcissa from upstairs if it has to be a woman. Or the English landscape you left collecting dust in the attic, I was fond of that one."

Orion sounded perfectly American -- modern even. This implied he had been consciously collecting information for some time before leaving the portrait. Jasper tried to step halfway between the older men.

"Uh, you're Orion Raven, just to clarify?"

"Yes, that would be me," the man in the loose suit said with a smirk. "Your confusion is forgiven, as is you lack of gratitude."

"Gratitude?" Mordecai said and vaguely swung his cane.

"Yes, my child," Orion said. "Who do you think brought all those rightful possessions into proximity? The books, the instruments, the missing trinkets, even the means of my own escape. I've taken care of this family despite the great expenditure of energy this has cost me."

"You... served the family?" Mordecai asked, carefully.

It made sense that there was an intelligence behind the many coincidences but Jasper had expected something more abstract like 'the bloodline' or 'the Raven name', not a very, very old person nudging things from the shadows.

"The presence!" Jasper said. "The strange 'thing' I felt roaming the place at night every week or so."

"That was me," Orion said, satisfied. "Checking up on some guests and making sure the place was safe. I learned from dreams. I gathered strength."

"That may be," Mordecai said, "but that gives you no right to take over."

Orion laughed, like one laughs at a mistaken toddler. "Since I'm back, the Raven estate and name recognize me. You are so far down the inheritance line, your claim is practically nil until I chose an heir. And I won't do so until I know I have fixed what went wrong."

"What went wrong?" Jasper asked.

"He kicked out Sloane," Mordecai said.

Orion grimaced at the mention. "No, I *banished* her and her kind. We should never have mingled with the darker elements of society. I appreciate that they are powerful but this... cozying up, is unacceptable. Oh, I also had to declare the African unwelcome."

"You kicked out Lazaro?" Jasper asked.

"Temporarily, I hope. He has been invaluable and deserves compensation, but he was hostile the moment I encountered him and would not see reason. I'm sure we can work things out."

Jasper made a mental note to contact Lazaro as soon as possible. Then he remembered why he had gotten up in the first place.

"Where's Alec?" Jasper asked.

Orion's face took on a surprised expression after a split second too long. Then the ancestor understood that hiding his deeds would not work.

"I suppose... my negotiations have failed. So be it." His features hardened. "I needed to trade someone for my escape. Do not try to get him back. I have ensured his quick but painful demise should he return to us. Don't even look for him."

"Fuck," Jasper said. Then anger swelled in him and he took two steps toward Orion who took half a step back but raised his hand.

The former-heir could not advance. The house held him back.

"Don't make me banish you," Orion said. "It should be obvious that this is within my power. Now, I don't expect unquestioning servitude from anyone. I simply ask that you let me prove my loyalty to the family. You, Mordecai, are still the manager. I will merely take over as patriarch."

The trio came to a standstill as staff trickled into the courtyard from the kitchen to set up the breakfast buffet. Mordecai stomped his cane one last time, then forced himself into a relaxed stance.

There was no way to resist at the moment.

Jasper had to feign cooperation and gather intel. The portrait of Orion that this ghost had endured the centuries in was gone -- hidden by the escaped phantom. Jasper had to find it. And that was only step one.

"Shit, I've got to cancel Hunter," Jasper said.

"Nonsense." Orion waved him off. "Keep your customers coming. Now, Mordecai, how about a walk in the garden. I do enjoy what the place has become and I'd like to finally see it by daylight."

"I... yes, Orion," grandfather answered, overtly bitter, but defeated.

Moments later, Jasper was directing Kamron and Thomas to hang up grandmother in an alcove in the north-east corner, swapped with the likeness of the plump Countess Narcissa in her Edwardian dress with hunting dogs on either side.

The employees took the arrival of 'uncle Orion' in stride. Jasper had yet to determine if he could trust them to assist his search. Not that he questioned their loyalty. He would have trusted Kamron with his life. But a four hundred year old patriarch could conceivably extract secrets from mere mortals with ease.

Jasper would ask the Browns for aid, and maybe a few other families, but presumably there wasn't much an outsider could do. He had to work from within.

==========+++++==========

"Again, exceedingly generous, ma'am," Phoenix said.

"Oh please, stop it already." Bronwyn Hastings said and put the tray with tea cups down. "There's a whole empty apartment above me right now, since the hunting party moved north."

Phoenix settled in at the tiny side table in Bronwyn's library. His hand was on Lazaro's thigh to calm himself.

Sloane had made everyone nervous with her pacing and Bronwyn had asked her to retreat to the quarters provided. Now it was just Phoenix, his boyfriend and Bronwyn who excused herself and left them alone after being called to the bar downstairs.

"Any results?" Phoenix asked as he heard Lazaro grunt.

The massive man in sweatpants had a stupidly large book open in front of himself. Despite being a historian, Phoenix could not pinpoint the language of the handwritten text. Some African tongue written with Arabic letters?

"He's not real," Lazaro said. "Orion had to steal physicality from someone. He's too clearly flesh-and-blood to be a phantom, and appeared too suddenly, too fully, to be leeching off somebody who's still around. There has to be a missing person and we better lock their identity down before he makes everyone forget the person ever existed."

Phoenix swallowed hard at the thought of such complete erasure. "How?"

"He must have used his dream-intrusions to adapt to the modern world, or he'd have spoken like a Tudor. However, he has old-fashioned ideas about power. Before I made it clear I would never work for him, he asked if I'd secure the estate against changelings, umbrals, the Riders' lot, gaunts and such. Hell, half of those are taken care of by the covens and the other half *are* covens now."

The blond student ruffled through his notes. The structure of nocturnal society was complex.

"My point is," Lazaro continued, "I doubt he fully grasps the threat of modern technology."

"You're uh, getting a gun?"

Lazaro grinned with both amusement and fondness. He raised a smartphone, already calling someone.

"Hello?" said a sleepy voice on the other end.

"Sammy? It's Lazaro. Have you been at breakfast today?"

"Uh, not yet. I'm barely up. Why?"

"Good. A few things have changed. I'm not at the hotel anymore. And I need a spy inside. One who can work from the shadows."

"What? What the fuck happened? Did the Ravens turn evil?"

"Not sure yet. Trust Jasper, if you must, but nobody else. Especially not Alec. He may work for the enemy."

"Okay... I think. I'll text you when I'm back from breakfast."