Page 5

CHAPTER 5

RAVEN

I burst through the apartment door, my lungs burning, sweat dripping down my spine. My hoodie clings to me like a second skin, and I’m pretty sure I left my dignity ten stories up on a scaffolding. Madison’s perched on the couch, controller in hand, but she freezes mid-button mash when she sees me.

“What the hell happened to you?” she asks, her eyes wide. “You look like you just lost a fight with a gym and a dumpster.”

I slump against the door frame, gasping for air. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.” She drops the controller and gets up, grabbing a bottled water from the fridge. She hands it to me with a raised eyebrow. “Start talking.”

I twist the cap off and down half the bottle in one go. The cold water hits my throat like a lifeline. “Okay, so. Remember how I went to Kirk Stevens’ office?”

“Yeah. To vandalize his stupid Time Man of the Year portrait. Which, by the way, is iconic. But go on.”

“Right. So, I’m in there, spray paint in hand, ready to make a statement, when suddenly—” I pause, trying to figure out how to phrase this without sounding insane. “There’s a lizard man. Like, a full-on, seven-foot-tall, golden-scaled lizard man with sunset orange eyes. And it’s just standing there, staring at me.”

Madison blinks. Once. Twice. “A lizard man.”

“Yes.”

“In Kirk Stevens’ office.”

“Yes.”

She tilts her head, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “Raven, did you maybe… I don’t know, fall off something and hit your head? Because this sounds like a concussion talking.”

“I’m not concussed!” I snap, throwing my hands up. “I know what I saw. It wasn’t a hallucination. It wasn’t a costume. This thing had scales, Madison. And claws. And it tried to grab me with its freaky lizard hands.”

She folds her arms, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Okay, let’s say, hypothetically, I believe you. Why would Kirk Stevens have a lizard man in his office? Is he, like, running a zoo for mythical creatures? Or is this some rich guy’s idea of exotic security?”

“I don’t know!” I pace the room, my thoughts spinning. “But listen, it gets weirder. The eyes. The lizard man had the same eyes as Kirk.”

Madison’s brow furrows. “Wait. You think Kirk Stevens is a lizard man?”

“I don’t know what I think anymore,” I admit, running a hand through my tangled hair. “But something’s not right. Either Kirk’s got a pet lizard man, or he’s hiding something. And I’m not sticking around to find out which.”

She studies me for a long moment, then sighs. “Okay, crazy theory aside, are you hurt? Did it—he—whatever it was, did it hurt you?”

“No. I mean, I almost fell off the building trying to get away, but that’s beside the point.” I collapse onto the couch, suddenly feeling the weight of the night pressing down on me. “I just… I don’t know what to do. I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see. What if he comes after me?”

Madison sits beside me, nudging my shoulder with hers. “Hey. You’re the Blackbird. You don’t let anyone push you around, remember? Lizard man or not, you’ll figure this out.”

I groan, leaning my head back against the couch. “Easy for you to say. You didn’t almost get caught by a giant golden lizard.”

She smirks. “Sounds like the start of a really weird fanfic. But seriously, Raven, you’re okay. That’s what matters. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

I nod, but the unease in my gut doesn’t fade. Something’s out there—something big, something dangerous. And I have no idea what to do about it.

The hot water pelts my skin, washing away the sweat, the grime, the fear. I scrub until my skin’s raw, but I can’t scrub away the memory of those sunset orange eyes—his eyes. The lizard man’s. Or maybe Kirk’s. My brain’s a jumble, and my body’s buzzing with leftover adrenaline.

I collapse into bed, pulling the sheets up to my chin. My eyelids feel like lead, and I drift off almost instantly.

The dream starts like a nightmare. I’m running again—always running—through a maze of scaffolding and beams. The city’s a blur below me. I glance over my shoulder, and there he is: the lizard man, golden scales gleaming under the moonlight. He’s faster than I am, his powerful legs closing the distance.

I trip. My heart’s in my throat as I tumble, but instead of hitting the ground, I’m caught. His arms are like steel bands, holding me against his chest. I struggle, but it’s half-hearted. Something about him—about this—feels different.

His breath’s hot on my neck as he presses his lips to my skin. My body betrays me, shivering with something that isn’t fear. His claws tear through my clothes, and I should be terrified, but I’m not. I grind against him, feeling the hard length of him pressing into me. His hands are everywhere, possessive, demanding, and I can’t help but respond.

His mouth finds mine, and the kiss is savage, claiming. I moan into it, my fingers digging into his scales. He growls, low and primal, and the sound sends a shock of heat straight to my core.

Then, just as the dream reaches its peak, he changes. The scales melt away, replaced by smooth skin. Kirk Stevens stares down at me, those same sunset eyes burning with intensity. He smirks, and I wake up gasping, my body throbbing with want.

The sheets are tangled around me, my skin damp with sweat. My heart’s racing, and I can still feel his hands on me, his mouth on mine. I slide my hand under the sheets, my fingers finding the heat between my legs. I bite my lip, stifling a moan as I touch myself, replaying the dream in my mind.

It’s him—the lizard man, Kirk, whoever he really is—that I’m imagining. His hands, his mouth, his body. I come with a muffled cry, the pillow stuffed into my mouth to keep Madison from hearing.

I’m panting, my body limp, but my mind’s still racing. What the hell is wrong with me? I should be scared, repulsed, but instead, I’m… turned on.

I roll onto my side, staring at the wall. Madison’s soft snoring drifts through the apartment, and I envy her for a moment. At least she’s not wrestling with her own damn psyche.

I close my eyes, willing sleep to come again, but I know it won’t. Not after that.

“This is so messed up,” I mutter to the empty room, pulling the sheets tighter around me.

I stare up at the ceiling, trying to force my brain to work. Kirk Stevens—if that’s even his real name—is hiding something huge. A seven-foot-tall lizard man in his office isn’t exactly subtle. My fingers twitch, itching to grab a spray can and tag something, anything , to work through the chaos in my head. But that’s not going to cut it this time. I need a plan.

The business card. I sit up, fumbling through the pockets of my hoodie until I find it. The thick cardstock feels heavy in my hand, embossed with Kirk’s name and number. I trace the edges, thinking. He gave me this after saving me from those creeps outside Area 51. He was charming, intense, and… God, he kissed me. My fingers brush my lips, and the memory sends a shiver down my spine.

But no. I shake my head, forcing myself to focus. This isn’t about the kiss, or the way he made my heart race. This is about survival. If there’s a giant lizard man running around, and Kirk’s connected to it, I need to expose him before he decides I’m a liability. But how?

I can’t go back to his office. He’ll be expecting that, especially after I tagged his precious Time Man of the Year portrait. Security’s probably tighter than a drum by now. I don’t have the skills to hack into his systems—that’s Madison’s domain—but I’ve got something she doesn’t: Nightbird.

The thought makes me sit up straighter. Nightbird’s not just a graffiti artist; she’s a persona, a mask I can hide behind. If I can use that to get close to Kirk without him knowing it’s me, maybe I can find out what he’s hiding. But how do I get him to trust a masked vigilante?

I glance down at the card again, tapping it against my palm. Kirk’s interested in me , not Nightbird. But if I play this right, maybe I can use that to my advantage. The idea feels slimy, like I’m setting a trap for myself as much as for him. But what other choice do I have? Wait around until he decides I’ve seen too much and comes after me? No. I’m not that kind of girl.

I grab my phone, pulling up the notes app. My fingers hover over the screen as I start jotting down ideas. I need to lure him somewhere public but isolated, somewhere I can control the environment without raising suspicion. Maybe set up a meeting as Nightbird, then watch from the shadows and see what he does. If he slips up, if I can catch him with that lizard man, I’ll have proof.

But even as I type, a little voice in the back of my head pipes up. What if he’s not the bad guy? What if that lizard man—whatever it is—isn’t dangerous? I shut the thought down fast. Doesn’t matter what I want to believe. I saw what I saw, and I can’t afford to be wrong.

“This isn’t a job for Raven,” I mutter, tossing the card onto the nightstand. “This is a job for Nightbird.”

Now all I need is a plan to make it work.