Ravenwings (Imaged + Completed) [1st in Trilogy]

Part III: Chapter 53

"Melly, you can't date a Trickster!" Grandma protested. "It always ends in blood and magic babies, and I ain't dealin' with no mo' magic babies... Especially if you start mixin' bloodlines together!"

"I'm not the Raven," he assured her quickly, "That's my father...but my name is Raven."

"You a second-generation?!" Nancy roared. "The f*ck you doing 'round my Granddaughter?! I don't need the Tricksters comin' 'round and stirring sh*t up! This is a creator house, not a shapeshifter house!"

I wasn't aware our house had a mascot deity. I had a suspicion that it never did have a 'mascot deity' until it suited Nancy to be so.

"But see, that's where the line blurs," Raven insisted. "Miwok tales can only get you so far, because the man they described as my father was most certainly not a creature any tribe truly anticipated."

She scoffed. "I ain't fallin' for whatever fake stories that shapeshifter's spread; he can lie to the Pacific coast but he ain't lyin' to me!"

"Well...Raven saved my life," I defended him. "If he hadn't come for me, I'd be..." I don't even want to think about. "I'm just glad he came."

Grandma had to stop and think that through for a minute. "He...what?"

"Saved my life. I owe him my life. I'd be dead or worse without him."

She narrowed her eyes.

"He also found Potatonut for you," I added, 'icing the cake,' so to speak.

It was the exact excuse she needed. "'Taternut?! C'mere, shnookums!" she exclaimed, finally seeing the ugly, spotted brownish cat skulking in the corner. Overjoyed, she shuffled after the cat with open arms and a toothy grin, and the cat in turn stared at her in absolute horror before he fled. "C'mere, I made you a new pink bow sweater that's gon' look precious!"

"Mreeeeht!"

Grandma actually managed to corner Potatonut, scooping him up despite him being muddy, irregularly bony, and smelling like he rolled in roadkill. Yep, just leave it to Grandma's attention span to save the day...

"Grandma, we should take him to the vet. He looks really thin, she could be sick." We need to get Raven looked at.

"Oh jee, that's some good thinkin' there, Melly," Grandma said, her wide eyes looking even bigger through her thick, round glasses. "It's 'she' though, Melly, don't you remember the sweaters?"

"Grandma, that cat is definitely male. You just mixed up Potatonut and Banananut when the original Potatonut died," I said, too tired of just rolling over and letting dumb crap slide to do anything but be completely straight with her. "Potatonut's a 'he.'"

"Really? Oh gee... I'm going to have to knit her– him a new sweater," Grandma said, coming to terms with this rather quickly. Though she was hesitant to give him up, she let me pull Potatonut from her arms, holding him away from me, lifting him by his armpits. Oh my god he smells so bad... And ugh, he was so bony.

"Ma'am," Raven said politely, "I'm sorry we haven't been straight with you, but...this is...kind of my home now. I swear to treat Melody with utmost respect and care-"

"Ah, as long as you ain't doin' any magic and yer keepin' my household safe, then you're a'ight in my book," Grandma conceded. She stared him down for a moment, though, and added very seriously, "You know what you've gotten yerself into though, right boy? You're walkin' a dangerous line."

Raven swallowed. "Yes...I'm aware...of the situation. But I can't do magic or any kind of witchcraft, and I can definitely promise you there'll be no magic babies and no crossing bloodlines."

He couldn't do any sorts of magic? So the jamming gun wasn't you? Well then what the f*ck caused it?

"Hmm..." She glanced between the two of us. "Well, in that case, if I see any imaginative sh*t poofin' in and out, I'll know who to look at. You better stay on your toes there, Raven-boy. I don't want her any more involved with those Tricksters than she already is, you hear? I done kept her safe and hidden for years, don't you f*ck that up."

"Yes, loud and clear," Raven affirmed. "And...if you're ever looking for someone interested in listening to some of the 'ancient stories'...I'd be curious to hear." I bit my lip to hide a chuckle knowing he'd just said Grandma's magic words.

She lit up with a beaming grin. "Oh, goody goody! Melly, we can do story time again! I need to go dust off my books!"

As she hurried off, I smiled, pleasantly surprised that the conversation had gone as perfectly as it possibly could have. After all that, Grandma had finally taken a liking to Raven. She just had to get to know him. He's way too sweet to not like.

Recalling my unanswered question, I asked, "Wait, Raven, how did the gun jam? I assumed it was you, somehow."

He shook his head. "No, I don't do like...magic or anything. Wish I could, but it wasn't me."

That only confused me further. It seriously wasn't him? He hadn't been surprised by the gun's jamming, and then had full-on anticipated its convenient un-jamming. "So...was it some other Trickster or deity like, looking out for us? Cause it wasn't just chance."

"No, the Tricksters don't meddle in human affairs," he said.

"So...what happened?"

"Good question," he said simply...but didn't elaborate.

"Well...really, though, what happened?"

"Who knows?" he said flippantly, and passed it off with a shrug, but winced in pain.

"Ooh, let's get you fixed up," I said, my focus quickly shifting to the most important thing left at hand. I eyed the cat I still held like trash. "It's a long drive..."

Raven grabbed my keys for me since my hands were full, and a big overcoat from the closet that would hopefully hide his wings, eyeing the reddening, swelling gunshot wound that was inches from his heart and moving stiffly out the door.