Raven and the Dancing Tiger by Leah Cutter Page B

Good night." Sally turned and left before Peter could say another thing.
    Cai cawed unhappily, already lonely.
    "She'll be back," Peter said out loud.
    "Will she?" Brin asked, her tone doubtful.
    "Yes."
    Peter sent the image of a nest to Cai as he programmed Sally's number into his phone.
    He wasn't about to let her go.
    * * *
    Peter sat on his futon-couch, his phone in his hand, resting on his leg. He stared at it. While he was nervous about calling Sally, he told himself it wasn't the same as when he'd called Tamara.
    The rolling of his stomach hinted otherwise.
    Peter looked out the window. The leaves had come in more; in just a few days he'd be in what he called his "tree house," unable to see the park. Then he looked back down.
    His phone wasn't about to dial itself.
    Peter swiped it on and dialed Sally's number.
    "Hello?"
    "Hey, Sally. This is Peter."
    "Hi there. I'm glad you called."
    The warmth of Sally's voice made Peter warm in return. "I know tomorrow's a work night, but would you like to have sushi with me?"
    "Sure. I love sushi."
    Cai gave a happy bounce that startled Peter.
    "Um, yeah. Sorry," Peter said into the growing silence. "6:30? The sushi bar at the far end of Broadway?"
    "I know the place. I'll meet you there," Sally said. "Thanks for calling."
    "Great! Great. I'll see you then."
    "Bye."
    "Bye."
    Peter ended the call, still glowing.
    Cai gave another happy bounce.
    Peter didn't break into his full victory dance, but he did spin once on his heels before shimmying into the kitchen.
    She said yes. Of course she said yes. She wasn't Tamara.
    Peter danced a little more as he made coffee. He felt more in control than he had after he'd called Tamara the first time. He and Cai were in better alignment now, he realized.
    An involuntary shiver overtook Peter. He'd been misaligned with Cai and he hadn't really known it. And for a while, too. At least none of the prefects had been around to see it.
    Peter stretched out his hands automatically, his gaze drawn to them.
    The bones there were perfectly aligned. It had never been his hand that had been broken. It had never been his wings clipped.
    But nightmares of others' pain lingered, ghost pains of what might have been still wrapped deep around his bones, a place where even Sally's smile couldn't bring warmth.
    * * *
    Sally stood just inside the door of the sushi bar, wearing a black leather jacket that looked supple and soft. She wore her hair down. It fell in natural waves, curling up just past her shoulders, and Peter wanted to touch it. She wasn't bird bright, no. She was more like the bleary sun, warm and gracious on a hazy summer afternoon.
    "Hi," Sally said, smiling at Peter as he came in.
    They flowed naturally into a hug that Peter didn't want to give up. "I hope you weren't waiting long," Peter said as the waitress led them to a table.
    A long red bench ran along the wall, under the sloping white ceiling. Small beige tables were arranged in a line before the bench, with brown wooden chairs under each. It was both modern and homey.
    Peter pulled out the chair but gave Sally the choice of either seat. She slipped off her jacket before she slid onto the bench, revealing a sophisticated gray shirt with white pinstripes, collar, and cuffs.
    "I wasn't waiting long," Sally assured Peter as placed his coat next to hers and took his own seat on the hard wooden chair. "But you'll find out, though, that's one of my habits. I'm always disgustingly prompt, or even a bit early, like tonight."
    "Me too!" Peter exclaimed.
    "I think being late is rude," Sally confessed. "It's like, my time is more important than yours. Which it isn't."
    By Wynne's wings, they were perfect for each other.
    "Yes. Exactly."
    Tamara had been late—and that was the last he was going to think about Tamara.
    Cai gave a soft caw of agreement.
    Fly with mate.
    Peter agreed.
    Fly indeed.
    * * *
    Peter reached for the check the waitress had put on the table.
    Sally did, too.
    They ended up both