Hunter's Choice by A.J. Downey

the
pillow.

Chapter 9
     
    Hunter
    “Hey Hunn-n-nnn-ter,” she crooned at me through the fencing
on the enclosure. I flew in a short burst to the back of the aviary and
hunkered there as one of my brethren would. I had overheard the old man telling
the boy that if I continued to behave the way I had toward Jessamine there
would be cause for concern and I may not be releasable. Now was as good a time
as any to play the correct role.
    I had watched her from my perch, through her windows as
she’d moved about the kitchen at a leisurely pace preparing a supper for the
boy and the old man.
    She moved, lithe and gorgeous from cupboard to pantry to
counter. I memorized the wash of her copper hair over the back of her oversized
gray tee shirt until she had bound it up in a braid. The graceful curve of her
neck and shoulder where the neckline of her tee left them bare to my sight was
something to behold.
    She seemed happy tonight and when she smiled it was
disarming. They had made her laugh, and though I could hear what they said to
her, I had a fierce yearning to be close enough to read her answers.
    Her scent was carried to me on the slight breeze, rich and
sensual, lavender and vanilla and something else. Sandalwood perhaps. She
reached up to smooth some of her copper colored hair off of her cheek and the
movement was mesmerizing.
    I looked her in the eyes and I was undone.
    I had to know her.
    She watched me for several moments more and went back
towards the house. When the bedroom light clicked out I waited, calling softly,
when the boy and old man left, I waited some more and when the moon was at its
highest point I changed .
    I had done it once before, found pad and pen and written her
the note, telling her my name. The shift was easier now than it had been then.
I flexed my left arm in several directions and winced at the stiffness there. I
undid the catch on the enclosure and stepped out, the pine needles soft under
my bare feet.
    I breathed in deeply, the night air and winced a bit. My
senses were sharper than an average human’s in this form, but much duller than
when I was an owl. I stepped forward cautiously and nodded. My leg held, stiff,
but bearably so.
    Each form had its advantages and disadvantages. In this one,
I was stronger, denser, and much less fragile. As an owl I was breakable, but
at the same time I healed faster as an owl than I did this way. I crept to the
base of the stairs and listened.
    At first, after the transition, I felt as if my ears were
stuffed with cotton. My hearing much less sharp. There was always a period of
adjustment when it came to taking either form. Satisfied that I was alone, and
that she indeed slept, I climbed the stairs. I looked at her sleeping form,
just behind the glass, the moonlight spilling across her features, turning her
into something ethereal.
    I wanted so badly to let myself in. To run my fingers along
her petal soft skin, but the last thing I wanted to do was frighten her. I
watched her for a time, and confident in my plan, shifted once more. I would
have to be extremely careful going back to my cache of items, hidden well in
the Olympic National Park. However, if I could return in my human form, perhaps
I could convince her to take me on, allow me to trade work with my human hands
for food and board and in doing so; find a way past her careful walls.
    It was a decent plan as far as plans went.
    Of course, the best laid plans of mice and men often go
astray.

Chapter 10
     
    Jessamine
    Today was promising to be a bad day. A really bad day. I
stood in front of the open aviary door with some mice scrabbling around in the
bottom of a five gallon bucket hanging limply from my right hand. Hunter was
gone. I don’t even know how he got out!
    “Fff-ffuck!” It was so worth forcing the word out. Hunter
was gone. I pulled out my cell phone and called Charlie, yes called. This
wasn’t the time for a text.
    “Jess what’s wrong?” He demanded as a way of greeting when
he