Wings of Exile

by JD Monroe

  Zenyr nodded. “I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks.” Erevan turned to leave, then paused. “One last thing. I know how Festival goes. I’m not going to judge anyone here. Do you think Thea could have gone home with someone? Maybe had too much berry wine, slept through the day at someone’s place?”

  Zenyr’s brow furrowed. “I guess it’s possible.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “I’m not saying that I was close to her, but people here are pretty open. If someone’s sleeping with someone else, it’s usually not a big secret. And I’ve never heard about Thea being with anyone in the group.”

  “Okay,” Erevan said. “I appreciate your help. Call me if you hear anything.”

  Natalie’s TV education had done her a grave injustice. Watching Law and Order marathons had led her to expect a massive fuss over Thea. At their request, she’d emailed a recent picture to the police and answered a bunch of intrusive questions about her roommate. Was she on drugs? Does she have any mental illnesses? Was she acting strange?

  While the officer she’d spoken to, Lieutenant Ashford, was polite and thorough, he’d wrapped things up by saying, “Thanks for calling. We’ll be in touch.” His casual tone made it sound like she’d reported a suspicious vehicle parked down the street or something equally inconsequential.

  “That’s it?” Natalie had asked. “Are you going to put it on the news? What are you going to do to find her?”

  There was a long pause. “Ma’am, I assure you we’ll follow our protocol. We’ll be checking with local hospitals, morgues—"

  “Morgues?” Her stomach lurched. “Are you serious?”

  “Ma’am, it’s standard procedure. Please call me if you find anything you think would be helpful or if you hear from Thea.”

  And that was it. She’d expected a parade of police cars out front. Blue lights lighting up the neighborhood like Christmas. She wanted to see an army of guys in lab coats scouring the house for microscopic hairs and fingerprints. But there was nothing except a phone that wouldn’t ring.

  Now Natalie found herself sitting in her living room, which was decidedly not filled with people trying to find her missing roommate. Her mind whirled, a frenzied dog chasing its tail in vain. Thea was so strong, confident…so Thea. It didn’t seem real that something could have happened to her.

  It didn’t help that Perry was acting like a complete idiot now. He hemmed and hawed when she went to call the police, trying to convince her to give Erevan more time. She’d sent him back to the gym with a promise to call with any updates. Thea’s cousin was useless at best and shady at worst.

  She tried to pass time by watching TV but realized twenty minutes into a movie that she hadn’t heard a word of it. Instead, she’d been Googling how to trace a friend’s phone, without luck. She found a useful article about sending locations to a contact, but that required Thea to respond to her messages. If Thea had been responding to her messages, this would have never been a problem.

  Natalie restarted the movie, but a sharp knock on the door interrupted the opening credits. Her initial surprise coalesced into a pit of dread as she checked her phone to see if someone had texted before coming over. She knew they hadn’t; she’d been holding the phone and willing it to ring for an hour.

  The motion-activated porch light had turned on. Her skin prickled as she tiptoed through the living room. Maybe the police had decided to stop by after all. She peeked out the front window. No car on the curb or in her driveway. On the front porch, a large masculine silhouette was lined in shadow, a blurry form through the frosted glass in the door frame.

  After looking back at the small gun case on the coffee table for reassurance, she unlocked the door and peeked out. She wedged her foot against the door so it wouldn’t open any further.

  A strange man, approximately her age, stood on the porch. His eyes crinkled as he smiled. His rugged features were framed by a well-groomed reddish goatee. “Hi! Are you Natalie?”

  His charming smile did nothing to dissipate the dread sinking in her belly. “How do you know me?”

  “You’re Thea’s friend, right?” His thick dirty-blond hair was swept back from his face and shaved on the sides in a trendy haircut.

  The name on his lips caught her attention. “You know Thea?”

  “Of course. We’re old friends. I’m Thomas,” he said, putting out his hand to shake hers.

  She ignored the gesture, remaining behind the door. Maybe it was just nerves, but her heart raced. Despite his apparent charm, she didn’t like him. Who showed up on a stranger’s porch after dark? She should have grabbed the gun from the safe before opening the door. “Have you heard from her?”

  He grinned. “She’s fine. She’s been hanging out with me and a few friends up at our cabin, but we were out of a service zone, and then her phone battery died. None of us had the right charger,” he said sheepishly, putting up his hands as if to say what can you do? “I ran back into town for some groceries, so she asked me to swing by and let you know she was safe.” He reached out, letting his hand rest on her fingers curled around the door. His touch was warm, sending an electric shock up her arm. “Everything is fine.” His voice was odd, almost like it echoed in her head. As his words tumbled over his tongue, she felt the same warm, sick feeling she’d felt earlier when talking to Erevan.

  “I want to talk to her,” Natalie said, yanking her hand away. Thomas looked surprised at her response. “Get her on the phone.”

  “Sure, of course. Can I come in?”

  Politeness told her to say yes. Common sense said hell no. Her mother would have been proud. “No.” She shifted her weight to plant her right foot against the door.

  Thomas stroked her hand lightly, an intimate gesture that sent a shiver of revulsion up her spine. When she tried to pull away, he gripped her wrist and shoved the door hard. His winsome smile had sharpened into a predatory snarl. The door crunched her toes, and she instinctively yanked her foot clear. Now she was exposed, standing in the open door frame in front of this creepy stranger who had a death grip on her wrist. “I just want to come in and talk about Thea.”

  “Let go.”

  He yanked her closer, still holding her wrist. God, he was strong. He looked wiry and lean, but he was a lot stronger than Perry. With his free hand, he grabbed her chin. His pupils dilated, almost drowning out the yellow-green iris. “Everything is fine,” he said in a soothing voice. “Let me in, and I’ll get her on the phone for you.”

  “I’m only going to ask one more time.” Fear rose in her throat. “Let go.”

  “Why won’t you listen?” he said, almost to himself.

  In his hurry to grab her chin, Thomas had forgotten that she had a free hand still. She pulled back hard on her trapped hand to throw him off balance, then swung her free arm in an elbow strike. The jolt surprised him enough that he released her wrist.

  She stumbled backward, trying to slam the door on him. The door hit his foot, and she left it to lunge for the coffee table. She pressed her thumb against the lock and yanked open the case. As she turned with the gun, Thomas froze in the foyer.

  “You’re making a mistake.” His voice had lost its gentle warmth. His eyes narrowed.

  “Get the hell out of my house.” Her phone was still on the couch where she’d left it, and she didn’t want to take her eyes off him to dial 911. “I will shoot you.”

  Natalie expected him to come at her or run, but he did neither. Instead, Thomas hit his knees and let out a guttural shout. A burst of pale green light erupted from him, and his shirt split open over his back. Muscles shifted, bulging almost comically as his body expanded.

  This is not happening.

  Gleaming black talons erupted from his fingertips. The smooth skin on his limbs hardened, splitting into sharp-edged green scales. There was a splintering sound as his now massive body crushed her coffee table.

  “Holy shit.” It looked like a giant lizard. If lizards had wings and long spi
ked tails. No. If she was going to accept that this was happening, she might as well admit what was right in front of her.

  There was a dragon standing in her living room. Its limbs were folded tight beneath its huge body. If it stood, it would dwarf her and probably break through the ceiling.

  Its wings were still unfurling, popping into place with painful crunching noises, but it raised its horned head and roared at her. Even though she was nearly certain she’d gone insane, she raised the gun and shot it. The scaled head jerked to the side, but her shot struck it square in the neck. It grunted, then lunged toward her. She shot it again, and it let out a screech as the bullet ricocheted off its spiny shoulder.

  Think!

  A dragon blocked her escape route through the front door. Never mind that it was impossible. She spun and barreled upstairs, taking them two at a time.

  Her heart pounded as she gasped for air. Oh God, oh God. Her feet thundered on the stairs. The dragon roared from downstairs, rattling the entire house on its foundation. Glass shattered as framed pictures fell from the walls. Could it burn the house down?

  She ducked into her bedroom and locked the door. Like the small courtesy lock was really going to block out a beast that had to weigh two tons. The floor shook as the dragon thundered up the stairs. How did it even fit?

  She clambered across the bed toward the window. Laying the gun on the windowsill, she unlatched the window and hurled it upward, then beat at the screen. It took a couple solid hits, but the thin metal frame bent and popped out of the window. It couldn’t have been more than twelve or fifteen feet, but it seemed like a skyscraper looking down. If she landed wrong and broke her leg, she’d be helpless.

  A snuffling sound froze her in her footsteps. The room darkened as a shadow passed the doorway and blocked the light from the hall. “Shit,” she mouthed. She whipped her head around, looking for something to try to break her fall. Her closet door was open, which gave her another idea.

  In a weird design quirk, the house had two attics. One was a standard loft attic above the top floor, accessible by a pull-down ladder. But the second attic was over the garage, with a narrow access door in Natalie’s closet.

  She grabbed the gun and shoved her way into the closet. Pressing herself against the back wall, she carefully pulled the bi-fold closet doors shut. Something pounded the bedroom door. Her whole body seized with fear as she suppressed a scream. Careful not to knock open the doors, she pushed the clothes aside and quietly opened the attic door.

  It was dark and oppressively hot in the attic. A vent to the exterior of the house let in a sliver of light from the streetlights, but it was barely enough to outline faint shadows. They kept the house sprayed for pests, but there were bugs, mice, and once a bat in the attic. Natalie gulped. Better a bat than a dragon.

  Through the door she heard a splintering sound, then a huge crash. The house shook on its foundation, and there was a faint creak as the attic door opened on its own. Her eyes went wide as she lunged for it and pulled it closed, turning the doorknob silently. The floor trembled as the dragon thumped around. There was another crash, then a low, ominous growl. It was quiet for a moment. Had the dragon gone out the window? It couldn’t fit through the frame, though something that big could make a door or window wherever it pleased.

  Then a male voice spoke, sounding strained. “Natalie? I just want to talk.” She heard a rattle as he yanked the closet doors open. There was a scrape of hangers on the bar as he shoved aside clothing. Now he was human again, by the sound of it. She tiptoed across the rafters until she was as far out into the attic as she could go.

  The wooden frame formed a narrow triangle that came to a point at the far edge of the attic. A quick mental survey of the house told her it had to be the internal structure of the roof over the front porch. Careful not to put her foot through the plywood flooring, she eased herself feet first into the tight opening. Her hips and butt squished against the two-by-fours, but she managed to fit into the tight, hot space.

  “Natalie?” the voice was louder this time, now sounding genuinely curious. “What the…”

  Oh God. Don’t breathe. Don’t move.

  The door whined as it swung open, letting in the ambient sound of the air conditioner from her room. The floor creaked under Thomas’s feet. Natalie pursed her lips, controlling each breath with an iron grip. Could he smell her?

  Her fingers curled around the gun. Even as she prayed he wouldn’t come this way, she prepared herself. Like her mother taught her. She’d point it at the chest and shoot until there were no more bullets left. Leave nothing to chance.

  “This is just a misunderstanding,” he said, his voice booming in the tiny attic. “Thea is fine. I’d love to get her on the phone for you.”

  As he said her friend’s name again, a fresh wave of fear washed over her. There was no way Thea was okay. She wanted to launch herself out of the attic and threaten to shoot him until he told her where Thea was, but she was frozen. This was beyond her.

  The creaks grew louder as he padded across the attic. Then it was silent. She breathed as quietly as she could. Only through the mouth, wide in an O, in strict rhythm as if she could force the situation into control if she could master her own breathing. She was blind, hidden in the pitch-black space. What was he doing?

  “Shit. Oughta torch the fucking place.”

  Terror seized her heart with an iron fist. Don’t react.

  It felt like an eternity had passed when the footsteps receded and the door to the attic closed. She waited. She’d seen enough horror movies. He could still be right outside the door. Patience.

  Finally, she heard the sound of footsteps going downstairs, then a shattering sound like someone had broken the back door. She tensed at the unexpected noise. Still, she waited. She counted to a hundred, then to three hundred.

  Praying that he hadn’t staged his exit to lure her out, she hauled herself out of the small space. The plywood creaked underfoot as she got to her feet, still hunched under the angled roof.

  What the hell was she supposed to do now? Call the police? And tell them what? “Help, a dragon attacked me in my own house?”

  It seemed crazy, but that was exactly what she did.

  Emerging from the stuffy heat of the attic, she found her room destroyed. The closet bars had been knocked down, and her clothes were strewn everywhere. Her dresser and nightstand had both been cleared, with broken glass and jewelry glittering in the carpet below.

  Asshole, she thought as tears welled in her eyes. She stepped over the mountain of clothes and hurried downstairs to get her phone. The living room was wrecked. It was exactly what she’d expect from an impossibly large creature stomping through her house. She didn’t stop long enough to assess the damage. With her phone in hand, she ran back upstairs to her ransacked room, locked the door, and called 911. “Hello ma’am, what’s your emergency?”

  “Someone broke into my house.”

  “Are you safe?”

  “I think so,” she said. “I’m hiding. I think they left but I’m not sure.”

  “I’ll stay on the line with you. Officers are on their way.”

  It took the police less than two minutes to arrive with sirens blaring. Muffled voices came through the walls, growing louder as the officers approached. “Ms. Thomas? Asheville PD, it’s safe to come out,” a male voice shouted. He knocked on the door.

  “They’re here,” Natalie whispered.

  “You’re safe now,” the dispatcher said. “Is it okay if I hang up now?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Thanks,” Natalie said. “I’m coming out.”

  Two uniformed police officers stood in the hall, one male and one female. The male put his hand on his hip holster, fingers curling around the butt of his gun. She frowned in confusion, then followed his gaze down to her waist. The Smith and Wesson was still clutched in her right hand.

  “Oh shit,” she murmured. She thumbed the safety and turned it around, holding it out toward him. “Ta
ke it. Please.”

  The officer relaxed, then leaned out and took it from her cautiously. With the gun out of her hand, it finally felt like things were over. Instead of gentle relief, the adrenaline and stress boiled over. Natalie burst into tears, like releasing the valve on a pressure cooker. Stepping past her partner, the female officer softened. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said. “Are you hurt?”

  Natalie shook her head and let out another cry.

  “Is there anyone else in the house with you? That lives here, I mean?” the officer asked. She was a middle-aged woman, with pleasant warm eyes and ash blonde hair in a low bun.

  She scrubbed at her nose with her arm and shook her head again. She’d managed not to fall apart so far, and she didn’t want to do it now. She drew a deep breath and held it until her chest ached. When she let go, her muscles loosened, and a sense of relief settled over her. Her voice was even as she spoke again. “Just me. I have a roommate but she’s missing.”

  The officer tilted her head. “Let’s sit and chat. I’m Officer McQueen.”

  “Natalie.” Her tongue felt thick in her mouth.

  “Nice to meet you. Listen, they’re going to take some pictures out there. Why don’t we chat in here?” She had that warm, soothing presence that seemed to expand from her in an aura. It reminded Natalie of her mother and the way her quiet presence always made her feel safe.

  “Sure.” Natalie plopped onto her bed.

  “Pretty room,” McQueen said. “Not much of a decorator myself.” She carefully stepped over the clothes and sat on the end of the bed. “Walk me through what happened.”

  How the hell was she supposed to tell them what happened? If she told the truth, she was going to sound batshit crazy. She took a deep breath. “This guy came to the door.”

  “Did you recognize him?” Natalie shook her head. “Can you give me a description?”

  “He told me his name was Thomas. He was big, maybe a little over six feet tall. Blond hair, long on top and shaved on the side.” Natalie swiped a hand over the top of her head. “Slicked back. You know what I mean?” McQueen nodded. “His eyes were green. Really light.” At least until they’d turned into snake eyes the size of her fist. Her heart slammed against her ribs at the memory.