Chapter 13 #2
A shadow blots out the sun, and I hear the flapping of much larger, operational wings.
Sprinting around the corner, my own sprout from my back, ready, eager, and willing to fly.
I can catch this bastard, I know it. I’ll drag them from the sky and show them exactly what happens when you mess around in the Fringes.
I crouch, muscles bunching as they prepare to launch me into the air—the motion both familiar and forgotten at the same time. A horn blares. My back spasms. If I fly, I’ll be spotted and put far more lives at risk than my own.
The child whimpers. The sound pulls me away from the chase more quickly than anything else could have. I carry him inside my apartment, smothering every dangerous emotion inside me until the only thing left is my desire to help.
I call Harry. She calls for a healer. I pay without complaint.
Ladonis might lose the wing anyway.
In the aftermath, Luca drives him to Harry’s home, and I wash the blood from the sidewalk, then scrub the red streaks from my kitchen counter until it glistens.
Bile rises in my throat as I remember the pitiful cries.
I cradled Ladonis to my chest while the witch examined the damage, reassuring him in the common tongue as best I could. After his wing was bandaged, I asked him who had attacked him. He didn’t know. I asked how he ended up outside my apartment. He couldn’t remember.
Now that they're gone, the silence in my apartment is absolute. My chest is so tight I can barely breathe.
It’s time to face the facts: Harry is running out of room. She has been taking in stray supernatural kids the enclave can’t be bothered to help for years, and while her heart may be big enough to love every abandoned child in the universe, her house isn’t.
We need another solution.
I can’t shake the suspicion that these kids are being used to taunt me. The question is how? No one from my home realm knows I’m here. In fact, most of them believe I’m dead, tragically floating in the everlasting beyond at my mother’s side.
I drop to the couch and cover my face with my hands as I think.
All three of the young angels dropped here are from different classes. None share my echelon, but that’s not surprising. If they did, I would recognize them. There aren’t a lot of nish thatsha bloodlines to begin with, and father made sure I knew them all.
A plague. Angels with unexplained injuries and memory loss. None of it makes sense to me. What’s happening in the celestial realm—and more importantly, how am I supposed to keep it from bleeding into Vegas?
Two thumps sound on my door. I lift my head, then shuffle over to let Luca in. I try to hide my devastation from him, but I don’t have the energy.
Luca comes in, kicking my door shut behind him. “That was bad.”
I sigh as he flips the deadbolt. “Something tells me basic locks won’t stop whoever’s doing this.”
“You think it’s deliberate?” He nudges me back to the couch.
I drop with a huff. “You were born here,” I say. “Besides me, have you ever met another angel?”
Luca shakes his head.
“That’s your answer,” I mutter.
“We could always call the enclave,” he suggests. “They suck, but they do have connections. The angel appearances could be happening all over. Maybe you’re the coincidence and not the kids.”
I consider that, a flicker of hope springing to life in my chest. It dies before it can fully form. “Then why are they always close to me?” I ask.
Luca shrugs, sinking into the couch by my side. He stretches his arm over the back, fingertips grazing my wing. I’m too numb to even consider arching into his touch.
“I don’t have the answers, Celine, but you, me, and Harry can’t figure this out on our own,” he says. “I hate to say it, but we need to spread the word.”
I frown. “Do people ever do that?” Gossip thrives in the Fringes, but it’s all basic bullshit. People don’t volunteer important information in our world. Especially not for free.
“No, but what choice do we have? Harry is out of room, and these kids aren’t exactly fountains of information.”
Luca’s words ring in my ears as the uncomfortable truth that they are. With a groan, I lean back against the couch. He’s right, and as much as I hate to admit it, my full-body itch won’t let me sit this out.
“Fuck it,” I tell him. “You’ve convinced me to bring in backup, but we can’t plaster it on a billboard. We should only discuss it with someone who can help.”
“Alistair already knows.”
“Yeah,” I grumble. “That was Harry’s choice. What’s your point?”
Luca rolls his head to the side, his lashes thick and dark around his hazel eyes. “He could involve himself more,” he says. “And no one’s information is better.”
“Alistair doesn’t do shit for free,” I remind him. “Everyone knows that.”
“He would do it . . . for you.” Luca raises his eyebrows, making it impossible for me to misunderstand his meaning.
I glower at him. “Thanks for that. Until this moment, no one has ever confused me for a hooker. Congratulations, Luca, you’ve now gone where no man has gone before.”
“Oh, shut up,” he snaps. “I’m suggesting you ask him for a favor not fuck him. Good to know that’s where your head went, though.”
I open my mouth to shut him down, then close it as an idea takes form. I roll it around in my head, the feathers in my wings perking up as I consider the pros and cons. The more I think about it, the more I believe it might be the solution to both our problems—the angels and Ciprian’s nosy ass.
Luca sighs deeply, then closes his eyes and whispers, “You’re about to make things more complicated, aren’t you?” I stare at him silently until he opens his eyes. “Please, Celine. Tell me you’re going to ask the guy for a simple favor.”
I keep my mouth shut for two good reasons: one, lying to him outright would knock me on my ass; and two, Luca doesn’t want the truth.