Magpie (13 page)

“But, at the same time, not always shrewd enough to know what sort of role would suit them best,” Everet continued, still keeping his words measured.

Kane’s eyes narrowed. “And I suppose
you
know what’s best for me?”

“Yes.”

“Bollocks.”

Everet lifted a hand and summoned the pigeon to their table. “We’ll both have the classic breakfast, please.” He dismissed the waiter before Kane had a chance to try to change the order.

“That wasn’t what I wanted!”

“You’re under no obligation to eat it when it arrives,” Everet said. “If you tell me, calmly, that you don’t like what’s put before you, we can order something else. But any decisions you make for yourself will be made quietly and with consideration for those around you, or you won’t make any at all.”

Kane put both his hands on the edge of the table. It looked as if he might bolt. Everet tensed, ready to spring up and chase him down.

“So this is why you agreed to keep me out of prison?” Kane demanded. “So you’ll have someone to boss about and bully all the time? And probably someone to wait on you twenty-four hours a day, too. Well, I’ve got a news flash for you—”

“I have no use for a personal servant.”

Kane stopped short “What?”

“I said I’ve no use for a servant of my own. When you’ve finished acting like a brat, one of the things we’ll discuss is what kind of job you’ll take on at the nest.”

Kane remained very still for a moment, but Everet had no doubt that inside the magpie’s mind, thoughts were racing around at a truly frantic pace. “I want to look around before I make any decisions, get a feel for the place.”

“And try to find a rich old fool who’ll take you under his wing and spoil you, rather than make damn sure you work for a living?” Everet asked, knowing that the subject had to be dealt with, and the sooner the better. His tone was polite, but there was no way he could make the subject palatable.

“You don’t think pandering to a rich man’s whims is hard work?” Kane shot back.

You’re better than that.

Everet bit back the words, judging it best to keep that particular opinion to himself for now.

I didn’t get you this far through withdrawal just so you could go back to getting high and whoring yourself out.

There was no need to make Kane aware of that fact either—far better for him to learn both things as time passed. Everet took a deep breath. All his carefully laid out plans and promises to himself regarding how he’d deal with Kane once he had recovered seemed so unbelievably naive now that he faced an avian capable of talking back.

All the jobs he’d thought might suit Kane ran in the opposite direction at the sight of him in his current form.

Their food arrived.

Kane folded his arms and stared mutinously across the table.

“If you’re going to try to get a wealthy new master, you’re going to need your strength,” Everet pointed out. “Unless you’ve already seen sense and abandoned that plan, of course.”

Kane either fell for it, or he was willing to use the excuse Everet had offered him as an acceptable way out. He ate with far more appetite than he had shown before. He really was through the second stage of his withdrawal. The job could be ticked off Everet’s list once and for all.

His anxiety level went down a notch. Everything would be fine. They were two thirds of the way there. If he could just convince the other man’s
mind
to believe he didn’t need the stuff.

“I take it you haven’t had any training in a particular profession?” Everet asked as they each pushed near empty plates aside.

He’d obviously been right to keep the question back until Kane had finished his breakfast. The magpie leaned back in his chair and pointedly turned his attention away from Everet, in a complete and instant sulk.

“In that case, we’ll start you off with something that you don’t need any training for. It will give you a bit of structure while you’re settling in here and—”

“I’m tired. I need to rest now.”

Everet didn’t even miss a beat. “The avian in charge of the day to day maintenance of the nest is a barn owl. His name is Mr. Johnson. We’ll go and speak to him now—he’ll know what jobs are available.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Kane demanded.

“Yes. You’re tired.” Everet held Kane’s gaze, almost daring the other man to look away first. “If you really can’t manage to join me, I suppose I can ask Ambrose to take you back to the apartment. You can rest there while Mr. Johnson and I decide how you’ll spend your time for the next few weeks.”

“Like hell you will.” Kane launched himself to his feet. His cutlery clattered to the floor as he carelessly pushed it off the table.

Everet remained in his seat, tilting back his head so he never once needed to look away from Kane’s eyes. “You said you were too tired to speak to Mr. Johnson yourself.”

“Where is he?” Kane demanded.

Everet raised an eyebrow.

“This Mr. Johnson,” Kane snapped. “Where is he? I want to speak to him, right now.”

“Sit down.”

“I said—”

“I heard you, so did most of the men in the room. Sit down. Pick up your knife and fork and put them back on the table. Then, when you’re calm, I’ll take you to see Mr. Johnson.”

“No.” From the way he said it, Kane seemed to expect some sort of dramatic reaction to the pronouncement.

Everet merely settled himself a little more comfortably in his seat. He had plenty to think about to pass his time. At some point, he’d have to get back to his regular duties at the nest. No doubt everything had gone to hell when he’d been distracted by Kane’s illness.

He’d have to sort out the mess the other men had made of his attempts to set up a system where avians who, while not exactly breaking any of the nest’s laws, had mistreated or taken advantage of lower ranking men, could be recorded and monitored.

“Are you just going to sit there?” Kane demanded, his voice still a dozen decibels louder than it needed to be.

“Yes, until you’re ready to leave, that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

“I’m ready now!” Kane actually stamped his foot. He was obviously used to getting his own way whenever he threw that kind of a fit. It would have been amusing if it hadn’t reduced a man with Kane’s potential to something so far beneath what he should have been.

“The way to show me you’re ready is to sit quietly in your chair, with your knife and fork back on the table.”

“Seriously?
This
is what you want to make a stand over?”

Everet shrugged. It might as well be. The point that he wouldn’t be influenced by hysterics would have to be made sometime. “No time like the present.”

Kane dragged his chair back several inches, making the legs screech against the floorboards. He snatched up the cutlery and tossed it on the plate with a clatter. Shoving one hand into his pocket, he dumped himself into his seat as if the chair had personally offended him. Although why Kane should think anything in its right mind wouldn’t love to be pressed up against his arse—

Everet cut that line of thought off very sharply. If he went down that route, they’d never get anything done. He stood up. “Good. Well done. Mr. Johnson’s office is this way.” He held his arm out, letting Kane precede him between the rows of tables.

Kane still didn’t have much weight to him, but he stomped far better than many men twice his size could have managed. One brief glance told Everet that the men at most of the tables around them were staring at Kane, some with disapproval or amusement, but most of them with straightforward lust.

Everet automatically quickened his steps, making sure he walked so closely behind Kane no one could miss the fact they were together. Kane was his, and Everet needed every man who even thought about screwing Kane to realize that it wasn’t an option. Kane had already been claimed.

Everet’s hands itched with an unaccustomed desire to lash out at any man who went near Kane. He’d never felt anything like it, never felt so out of control inside his own skin.

Damn, but he’d have loved to be able to put a collar around the magpie’s neck—and to attach a lead to it. The idea of Kane being marked and kept at his side appealed like nothing else he’d ever known.

As his mind raced, Everet forced himself to keep his expression neutral and his fingers relaxed, no matter how badly they wanted to furl themselves into fists.

It only took them a few minutes to descend the stairs into an administrative part of the building. The elaborate décor of the public rooms morphed into a more business-like space that supplied a middle ground between the grandeur above and the Spartan servants’ quarters below.

Mr. Johnson’s office stood halfway down a long corridor housing the entrances to a dozen different offices. Searching for something to keep his mind off thoughts of killing anyone who tried to steal Kane away from him, Everet glanced at the brass plates on the doors as they passed them.

Owls, pelicans, penguins, gulls. No ravens’ names were etched there. They weren’t quite in Everet’s domain, but the men who resided behind those doors weren’t exactly birds of prey either.

No men occupied the line of chairs in the corridor directly outside Mr. Johnson’s doorway. The door stood open.

Everet tapped on the doorframe to catch the attention of the rather portly gentleman sitting behind the large leather-topped desk.

“Everet, always a pleasure!” Mr. Johnson stood up and extended a hand across the table, offering him the status of an equal without hesitation.

Everet shook the other man’s hand, but even while he looked at Mr. Johnson, all his other senses homed in on Kane, ready to react to any movement on the magpie’s part.

“And who have we here?” Mr. Johnson asked, as jovial as ever.

“You don’t
have me
, darling,” Kane drawled. “And if you had ever
had me
, you’d remember who I was. Some of us aren’t forgettable.”

Everet looked toward Kane just in time to see him run his eyes up and down Mr. Johnson in a way that made it quite clear which side of the memorable-unmemorable divide Kane thought the nest’s household administrator fell onto.

“Ah, yes, Everet,” Mr. Johnson said. “Your new charge. There has been more than a touch of gossip surrounding your little endeavor.” He took his seat and indicated the chairs on the opposite side of the desk.

Everet sat down.

“We all can but hope you are successful,” Mr. Johnson went on, absentmindedly shuffling some of the many papers that littered his desk. “It would be a fine day indeed if someone were to find a way to rehabilitate the less savory species in our—”

“I am still here, you know,” Kane snapped.

Mr. Johnson glanced up at him. “Yes, so you are!” He completely dismissed him and turned to back Everet. Amusement danced in his eyes as their gazes met. “What can I do for you today, Everet?”

“Kane would like a job at the nest. Preferably nothing too strenuous, but definitely something which will entail supervision and structure,” Everet said.

His unease at his submissive's behavior gradually dissipated as he realized Mr. Johnson had no intention of taking offense at anything Kane said. He put Everet in mind of a female owl who’d taught him when he was a fledgling in school. She’d had far more sense than to reward naughty children with attention as well.

“Kane can speak for himself!” Kane cut in.