Chapter 43 - Brooke

“Perry, I want you to be my very own personal travel agent!” Brooke exclaimed. They had just finished eating dinner at a sushi place in Times Square and were now following Ashby and Perry. The two were walking purposely toward the ritzy part of town, while she tried to keep up with their long strides.

“Not a profession I would enjoy,” Perry said in a dry tone.

Brooke shot Ashby a dirty look. Ever since his highness pulled Perry aside in Greg’s apartment, Perry had been anything but fun. A damn shame, because where else could she get someone to “transport” her all over the world in higher fashion than any filthy-rich jet setter?

She could only imagine what else he was capable of with his magic. She sighed, disappointed.

They had arrived in New York a few hours ago. Like fools, they’d wandered through Manhattan, looking for a Sam in a haystack. An adventure that would have been a total waste if not for Calisto and Joao, who were a total trip, way better than her at creative name-calling while people watching. Just now they were eying a woman with legs up to her throat.

“No, please,” Joao mock whispered, “I swear that’s not my baby. It’s hers,” he pointed at his sister.

“If the stork ever comes our way, it’ll be because of you, little brother,” Calisto said. “You’re the only one destined to bring little spawns into this world.”

“Thank God!” Joao said.

Brooke winced. That was harsh, at least in her book. Calisto, however, didn’t seem affected by the comment at all. Maybe Singulars didn’t care about passing their genes down to cute little Morphids?

“Would you two behave once we go in here, please?” Ashby stood at the bottom of a staircase covered with thick, red carpet. Brooke looked past him in awe.

It can’t be!

Brooke slowly looked up and couldn’t stop her mouth from falling open. “We’re staying at the Plaza?” she asked.

“It’s where we always stay when we come to New York,” Ashby explained. “The Regency has a running account with them.”

Perry had walked ahead and was already strolling through the revolving doors. Ashby followed suit and, after a shrug, so did Joao and Calisto.

“Might as well get something out of the Regency,” Joao said. “It owes us for our absentee parents and messed up childhood.”

Twenty minutes later, Brooke walked into Ashby and Perry’s room. Calisto and Joao would share another and Brooke got her own, which she was dying to see. At the moment, however, they had things to discuss.

“So what’s the plan?” Ashby asked as soon as the door closed behind them. He walked to the window, pulled the curtain back and looked out.

The smell of rose petals wafted in the air. An honest-to-god chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling. There were two queen size beds made to perfection in white, crisp linens. Gold and black accents adorned the room for an understated, classy feel.

Brooke collapsed on a golden, velvet armchair and put her feet up on a matching foot rest. “Damn, this is nice.” She was more than happy to enjoy a few luxuries. At over $900 dollars a night, she doubted she’d ever have the chance to stay here ever again.

“We ate. We have rooms. What else before we do something to find Sam?” Ashby looked around in exasperation at the silence he received in answer.

“A shower would be nice,” Joao eventually said as he reclined on one of the beds.

“What would be the point if all we’ve got are the clothes on our backs,” Calisto said. “We should have packed.”

Joao rolled over and stared at the chandelier. “Mum is probably about to burst a carotid artery right about now.”

“She’s not the only one.” Perry exchanged a meaningful glance with Ashby. His gaze turned to Brooke for a split second, then flicked away as he noticed her watching him.

“Yes, my mother has a tendency to turn blue when she gets angry,” Ashby said.

“Hmm, maybe that’s why Mum couldn’t stay and be part of her council,” Calisto mused. “They would have been at each other’s throats all the time.”

“Sounds like a cat fight worth watching,” Brooke put in.

Joao sighed. “Jet lag is pants. I’m knackered.”

“Huh? Jet lag wears pants?”

He laughed. “I mean jet lag sucks. I better get up before I fall asleep. Let’s go to the park and send out some scouts.”

“Scouts?” Brooke felt so lost with these people.

“You’ll see.”

“What if others see you?” Ashby asked.

“I’ll try my best not to draw attention. It’ll take longer, though. Wish we could get on the roof or something.”

“C’mon! That should be no problem,” Perry said. “I just transported all of you across the Atlantic, you think a few floors will be a problem, seriously?”

Joao slapped his forehead. “Oh, yeah. I forgot we’ve got you. Brilliant. Let’s do it then.” He rubbed his hands together, like a kid preparing himself to dip both hands into a huge cookie jar.

Ashby made a face of disgust and put a hand to his stomach. “Ugh.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted a talisman,” Perry said.

Brooke hopped from the armchair and joined the circle. The now-familiar sensation of weightlessness came over her and, when her eyes blinked open, she found herself on the roof of the Plaza Hotel.

“Holy cow!” she exclaimed at the breathtaking sight of Central Park at night. “It’s so big. I didn’t realize that.

Perry took a step closer to the wrought iron railing that lined the edge of the roof. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Everyone stood in awe, saying nothing. Wind blew in all directions, ruffling their hair. The United States flag flapped above them from a tall pole at the top of one of the spires. Gray clouds drifted past in the sky, giving Brooke the sensation that the building was moving. Her head spun. She let out a little yelp and sent an arm out, looking for balance. Her hand landed on Perry’s bicep.

He started, looking down at her hand. She pulled away and tried not to think of how strong he felt under that shirt.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, as if it was a secret.

“I’m fine. Just got dizzy.” She looked back down at the sprawling park.

Expect for The Pond and other small bodies of water, trees covered the entire area, looking like cute broccoli florets from this high above. Spotlights shone here and there under the thick canopy, giving the park the feel of a fairytale forest.

“Well, enough sightseeing.” Joao gave one loud clap, then rubbed his hands together again.

From the giddy look of excitement on his face, it was clear he didn’t get to use his powers very often.

Joao looked to the sky. “This might take several minutes, depending on how many helpers are nearby. Please move back. It might be scary.”

Calisto scoffed and rolled her eyes, but stepped aside anyway.

“If it was daytime, we could have a boat load of helpers. I read somewhere there are a million pigeons in New York. But no worries, we can get to them tomorrow morning, if we need to. For now . . . how ‘bout that picture?” Joao extended a hand toward Brooke.

She pulled a photo of Sam and Greg onto her cell phone’s screen and handed it over, then joined the others off to the side.

“This should be interesting,” Perry said.

“If you like being pooped on by birds,” Calisto put in.

Brooke wrapped her arms over her head. “Yuck!”

Joao gave Calisto a dirty look.

“All right, all right,” Calisto gave in. “There’s no poop involved.”

Brooke lowered her arms, not sure who to believe.

Joao turned his back on them and faced Central Park once more. He stood there for a few moments doing little more than breathe. Finally, he extended his arms to the sides and, over the whistle of the wind, said something she couldn’t make out.

Just when Brooke started thinking it was all a mean joke, a rhythmic beating sounded in the distance. At first, she thought it was a hallucination, but when she saw a black cloud moving in their direction, she knew the sound wasn’t in her imagination.

Beside her, Ashby inhaled deeply. Brooke looked up at him. His dark eyes stared at the approaching cloud. His blond hair blew in the wind. An odd expression marked his angular features. His jaw muscle worked and, for some reason, Brooke felt a strange affinity with him at that moment.

He’s jealous.

Calisto, Perry and Joao could do something special, not to mention Sam and Greg. He and Brooke, however, were less interesting than plain vanilla. As small as her contribution was, at least she’d offered her knowledge of Sam’s last location as well as her cell phone. That was better than nothing, which was exactly what Ashby had contributed.

That had to feel pretty shitty.

Brooke felt her stomach squeeze with pity for him. He had no special skill, had lost Sam, and probably was about to lose his post as the next in line to the Regency. What would be left for him once it was all said and done?

Self-conscious about her realization, Brooke looked away and focused on the fast-approaching black cloud. As it got closer, it began to take shape. It no longer looked like a massive, dark splotch in the sky. Instead, individual forms materialized and, one by one, landed all around them: the metal railing, gables, pitched roofs and at their feet.

“Wow,” Perry said in a drawn out breath. “That’s a lot of bloody owls.”

Over a hundred. No, maybe two hundred owls had responded to Joao’s summons. There were small ones, medium ones and pretty freaking big ones, like the one blinking up at Brooke and kneading the flat roof surface with huge, scary, unreal, murderous claws. She stood without batting an eyelash until the mammoth bird got its bearings and turned to face the Wingmaster.

“That’s right. Shoo, shoo. Move on.”

Perry chuckled next to her.

“What?!”

He cleared his throat and smirked. “Nothing.”

Like rabbits, the birds that stood on the flat roof began to hop closer to Joao. They were hooting and blinking their large, rounds eyes in that strange, freaky way owls blink.

Brooke’s hair stood on end at the sight of that many clawed creatures at the beck and call of a cocky teenager. Good thing he was on her side.

“That one’s cute.” Perry indicated a pointy-eared, gray owl the size of kitten.

“Aw.” Now, this was more to her liking. The bird almost looked like a plush toy. “Can I keep it?”

Perry gave her a wide smile that made Brooke’s chest feel as hot as if she’d downed a cup of boiling cappuccino. She blinked. Now, wait a minute! No way this hot/cold treatment was going to fly with her. She had no patience for flip-flopping. He needed to pick one way to be, then stick to it.

A high-pitched whistle brought Brooke’s attention back to Joao. The birds had gone still as statues and stared at him as if in a trance. Joao hummed, then whistled again. It sounded as some sort of bird language the owls seemed to have no trouble following.

With Brooke’s phone held high, Joao stared at Sam and Greg’s picture for several minutes. The owls looked on, their eyes fixed and round as marbles. A tiny square shone in their pupils and Brooke could have sworn it was the reflection of her cell phone, as if the creatures were seeing the picture through Joao’s eyes.

“Wicked,” Perry murmured.

Wicked was right. A chill went through Brooke. Light, at first, then violent as all the owls flapped their wings at the same time and took flight. They flew straight toward Joao as if they intended to eat him alive. Their wings flapped wildly brushing his clothes as they whirled around him in perfect synchronicity. They spiraled and spiraled forming a tornado with Joao at its center.

“Show off,” Calisto grumbled, barely audible over the hundreds of wings beating the air.

Then, in a sudden whoosh, the owls flew straight up into the night as Joao threw his arms upward, his fingers splayed apart and trembling. A scattering of feathers settled onto the roof as they disappeared.

Joao shook himself, turned to face them and fell to one knee, sweat running from his hairline. His eyes were all black pupil, his voice a hoarse rasp.

“Our search party just got a whole lot bigger.”