The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance by Trisha Telep Essay

They circled the tower once before Byron dived to a balcony and dropped her into a waiting group of people below. Hands caught her and she was gently lowered to the ground.
In the overcast sky, Byron swung upwards and swooped down. The group parted. A darkskinned woman grasped Aria by her waist and pulled her aside with the ease one picks up a child.
Byron dived down. His huge talons skidded on the balcony and he tumbled into the room beyond. Feathers swirled. He staggered up. "Leave us."
People fled past her. In a moment the room was empty.
Aria hugged herself. Up there, in the evening sky, the cold air had chilled her so thoroughly, even her bones felt iced over. Her teeth still chattered. She stepped to the double doors and shut them, blocking off the balcony and the draught with it.
The large rectangular room was simple but elegantly furnished a table with some chairs, a wide bed with a gauzy blue canopy, a bookcase, some old, solidly built chain before the fireplace. A couple of electric table lamps radiated soft yellow light. An oriental silk rug covered the floor.
Byron slumped in front of the fireplace. Bright orange flames threw highlights on his feathers, making them almost golden in the front. His feathers seemed shorter. His jaws no longer protruded quite as much.
Aria crossed the carpet and stood before the fire, soaking in the warmth. It all seemed so dreamlike. Unreal.
This will be your room for the next couple of days," he said.
"You have no idea how strange this is to me," she murmured.
His smart eyes studied her."Tell me about it?"
"In my world people don't turn into ... into this." She indicated him with her hand. His feathers definitely were shorter now. He'd shrunk a little. "People don't fly unless they have a glider or some sort of metal contraption with an engine designed to help them. Nobody tries to murder someone through magic. Nobody has mysterious castles masquerading as empty fields."
Byron stepped out of the room now back to his human form, gently closing the door behind him. Caleb waited in the hallway, a lean sharp shadow, with a robe draped over his arm. Byron took it from him and shrugged it on, absorbing the last of his feathers. His whole body hurt from too much magic expended too quickly. Walking was like stepping on crushed glass.
"Is she asleep?" Caleb asked.
Byron nodded. They walked down the hall together.
"She's pretty. Chestnut hair and chocolate eyes  a nice combination."
She was also calm under pressure, smart and willful. When she looked at him with those dark eyes, Byron felt the urge to say something intelligent and deeply impressive. Unfortunately, nothing of the kind came to mind. It seemed her eyes also had a way of muddling his thoughts. The last time he felt that dumb was about fourteen years ago. He'd been eighteen at the time.