Page 19 of Veil of Death and Shadow

Menace had his own entrance, of course—a doggy-door style flap we'd installed in the kitchen window, there for him to come and go as he pleased—but he'd taken to ignoring it, preferring to interrupt my few minutes of quiet each morning instead.

I didn’t mind. I enjoyed his company while I watched dawn lazily creep over the trees.

He dropped a small metal skeleton key on my pillow before busying himself with the treat jar that I kept on my nightstand.

"Hope whoever you stole this from doesn't need it to get home tonight, you little klepto."

I slid the top drawer of my nightstand open and added the new trinket to the rest—stones, dried flowers, broken jewelry, pieces of tinfoil, spare change, twigs.

Menace didn't always deliver gifts with his morning greetings, but when he did, he delivered them with the kind of pride a student used to wear on their graduation day.

I did my best to clear through the collection every few months, but I rarely had the heart to throw any of his gifts away. I redistributed them, of course, when I recognized a stolen item,but I usually held onto the rest like a mother who hoarded her child’s decaying baby teeth.

He was quite fond of the collection he’d amassed. I often walked into my bedroom to see his tiny head shoved inside the drawer, adding to and sorting through the hodgepodge of items when I wasn’t here, a pirate perusing his precious treasure.

"We're never getting rid of you, are we?" I muttered, biting back a smile when he flew onto my shoulder, nuzzling his head against my cheek. He was a stubborn little dude, but he’d grown quite affectionate in his old age.

Although old might have been an odd way to refer to him. I wasn’t exactly sure what a normal lifespan was for an undead crow.

Sora and I watched over him as his wing healed—kept him fed, consulted books on crows when we couldn't get him into a vet, and provided a relatively-comfortable shelter from the strange, changing world.

Truthfully, he'd been a welcome distraction during those early days. But we’d always expected him to one day get back to being a typical neighborhood crow.

Menace had other ideas though. He’d taken quite eagerly to the partially domesticated life we provided, almost never even interacting with the local murders.

He'd followed us throughtwoapartment moves, and while he'd occasionally disappear for a day or two now and then, he'd become a permanent resident in our lives.

In a world where the strange had become conventional, the shock of his undeadness sort of just eventually . . . wore away.

I lifted my hand up to my shoulder, waiting for his thick, black claws to grip my fingers. When they did, I shifted him in front of me, lightly petting the side of his neck with my free hand.

"Did you get up to anything fun this morning?"

He cawed, his eyes flashing briefly from dark as night to a peculiar midnight blue, in the way they often did.

There was a sharp knock, and I jumped.

Menace flew away, feathers ruffled and an indignant shift to his neck at the disruption of his morning attention time.

"Come in," I yelled.

Sora burst in. Her lips curved into a hook, eyes brightening when they landed on the crow. “Hey, you little shit.”

He turned away from her, stubborn and unyielding.

With a soft laugh, she tossed him an unsalted peanut—one of his favorite snacks—and his cold shoulder dissolved almost instantly.

He let out a loud caw, picked up the peanut, and started cracking the shell against my dresser.

I swallowed a groan, knowing I’d have to pick up the remnants of his feast later. Hopefully this time, he’d avoid traipsing them all over my sheets. I had no desire to sleep amongst his peanut carcasses.

"Most dramatic bird on the planet." Sora shook her head as she watched him, her expression both annoyed and bemused. They had a strange, antagonistic but loving relationship that was amusing to watch fester and grow. It made sense in a weird way. They were two of the most stubborn creatures I knew, and they both got great enjoyment out of pushing the other’s buttons. "Have you seen my pendant?"

"What pendant?"

"The blue one. Small, pretty, matches my hair.” She ran her hand through her shiny, shoulder-length waves, now equal parts blue and black, as if to emphasize her point. “I bartered for it last week at the market. Paid a hefty price, too, but now I can't find it anywhere. I could’ve sworn I left it hanging on my doorknob.” She grimaced. “Anyway, I’ve clearly misplaced it. I’m sure it’llturn up eventually, but I was hoping to wear it tonight.” She snorted before adding, “So much for being a good luck charm."

I bit my tongue. I’d done everything I could to avoid the supernatural world—putting my head down and staying away from all of the new magical shops and attractions that had popped up in the last couple of years. I’d had more than enough brushes with death and the supernatural to last me a lifetime.

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