Free Nightwing by Lynn Michaels

chance. The gulls will run her off.”
    “Y’know, Will, Callie looks a lot like ol’ Patches. Now, there was a gull killer. Sic ‘em, Callie.” Frank leaned forward in his chair, elbows bent on his knees. “They shit on my car every time I wash it.”
    “That’s what birds do, Frank. Don’t encourage her.” Willie stacked the sticky plates and picked up her coffee. “If she gets one, I’ll just have to take it away from her.”
    “It’s instinct, Will. Let her hunt.”
    “I’ll let her hunt. I just won’t let her strew bones and feathers all over the house.”
    “Killjoy.”
    Callie dug in her back claws and launched her attack on a fat gull grooming its wing feathers, just as a huge black crow came swooping in for a landing. The jays, gulls and grackles took off in a flurry. So did Callie, streaking back to the terrace to hide under Willie’s chair.
    “Some gull killer you are,” Frank said, leaning over the arm of his chair to frown at the cat.
    Callie blinked up at him and meowed, her ears flat and her tail bristling. The crow gave a raucous caw and flapped up into the peach tree. The flock came back, brazen gulls and grackles first, then the blue jays.
    “That’s the biggest crow I’ve ever seen,” Willie said, watching the huge black bird fold its wings on one of the lower branches and cock its head at her.
    “It’s not a crow. It’s a raven.”
    “How can you tell?”
    “Ifs bigger, blacker and bold as hell.”
    “Sounds like another Raven I know,” Willie quipped.
    “Biting the hand that heals you, Will.”
    “Not without just cause.”
    Frank helped her carry the dishes inside and rinse them. Through the window above the sink, Willie could see the raven still perched in the peach tree watching the other birds. She told Frank about Dr. Raven’s offer to stop by and check her ankle and asked him what he thought of it.
    “Why do you do this?” Frank asked. “Why do you ask me this kind of stuff?”
    “Because you’re my friend.” Willie squeezed out the dish sponge and shut off the water. “I value your opinion.”
    “How come you never pay any attention to it?”
    “‘Cause you’re always wrong.”
    “Then I repeat my original question. Why do you ask me?”
    “If it’s such a big deal, Frank, never mind.” Her voice sharper than she intended, Willie turned quickly away to wipe up grease spatters, but not quickly enough.
    “Did something happen you’re not telling me?”
    “No,” she lied. “I just wondered what you thought.”
    “Okay. I’ll tell you what I think. I think Raven’s very interested in you.”
    “Of course he is. I’ve got Beaches and he wants it.”
    “I think he wants more than Beaches, Will.”
    “Oh, Frank, c’mon.” Willie rolled her eyes at him over her shoulder. “Think with something other than your gonads.”
    “See? It happens every time. I tell you what I think and you tell me I’m crazy.”
    “I’m sorry I asked.”
    “Do you want me to drop by tonight?”
    “No. I can handle Raven.”
    “If you change your mind, call me. See you later.”
    Prank left. Willie tossed the sponge into the sink, went to the French doors and watched him go, his stiff-legged stride screaming bent male ego. She’d never known Frank to be so touchy. Maybe the heat was getting to him. Maybe she should have kept the air conditioner on. Or her mouth shut.
    She knew the perfect way to make it up to him. Coq au vin and lemon meringue pie for Sunday dinner. She needed lemons, mushrooms and burgundy, as well as cat food, litter and a cat box with a lid for Callie. Standing at the counter by the window, she made a list. At the top of it she wrote “Find out about the guy in the riding boots and breeches.”
    The big question was how. Willie considered it, clicking the pencil she’d found in the junk drawer against her teeth. The raven cawed in the peach tree. She glanced up and saw its gleaming blue-black head cocked at the window. One shiny onyx eye