A Shadow of Wings

by Gayle, Linda

“He threw me out. He threw everything out, right into a pile on the lawn, all my stuff. He said I was dead to him and my mother, that I should go and never come back.”

  “But your mother…”

  “She was crying and all, but she stood there and watched while I turned and walked away with nothing but the clothes on my back.”

  “Dylan…”

  “After that, I lived wherever I could. With friends, until their parents found out and they kicked me out too. I had to dodge the cops since I was underage for that first year, but there was no way in fuck I was going back to that house or into a foster home. My father lives in Canada, and he never even answered my calls or letters. I spent that winter in a tent in the woods. Finally, I hooked up with this one guy. I was seventeen, and he was twenty-eight. I met him in a park. He picked me up.” He would have done anything at that point. The hunger had been almost unbearable, the fear of being alone even worse. “Fortunately for me, he wasn’t as bad as he could’ve been. He gave me a place to stay, food. Only knocked me around a little.”

  That strange dimming of the light happened again, shading the flickering candle. It was the weirdest thing. This time, instead of blinking, Dylan let his eyes stare out at nothing in particular, as if he was trying to pick out a faint star in the night sky. A chill of awareness tripped down his spine when he realized the phantom shape wasn’t his imagination. Something swept around them like a gauzy shadow, not even substantial enough to move the air. He knew it came from Cam. It had to. First the eyes, now this. But what was it?

  “I’m so sorry, Dylan. You don’t have to tell me anymore if it’s too painful.”

  He reached over and brushed his fingers through Cam’s thick, soft hair. When Dylan looked at him like this, Cam seemed normal enough. Fucking freaky. “You don’t want to hear no more?”

  “No. It’s just…hard to. When I think of someone hurting you…” A muscle ticked in Cam’s jaw, and once again, that shadow moved around them. Dropping his gaze to his plate, Dylan observed from the corners of his eyes. Fucking Christ on a cracker. He struggled not to jump and give himself away. Shadow shapes waved behind Cam’s back, slowly forward, slowly back. If he tried to see them directly, they disappeared, but he could detect them obliquely, from the edges of his vision.

  Suddenly, his life story took a backseat to this new development. Nervous goose bumps flushed over his skin. If he didn’t finish, Cam would wonder what was going on. Dylan didn’t think Cam knew he could see his…appendages. He swallowed hard, then said, “Anyhow, I left that dude after a while, hung out with a couple others, then ended up with this guy named Chris. I lived with Chris for a while before he decided to come to Connecticut. He hooked up with some asswipe who promised to make him rich, so we ended up here. I won’t say I didn’t do my share of partying, but what Chris was starting to get into scared me. And he was getting more pushy, you know what I mean?”

  He’d sunk so low, let Chris use him, abuse him. If Dylan hadn’t been sober, and faster, that last night when Chris had tried to kill him… But Cam didn’t have to know about that.

  “What happened to him?” Cam asked when Dylan fell silent.

  “I ended up leaving him and going back on the streets. I had a couple of choices. Go home, which I knew wouldn’t work. Start tricking myself out, which I didn’t want to do. Or try to find work where I could and use the shelters. So that’s what I did, until that day I found the kittens and Dr. Martin took me in. There were other people who helped me sometimes. I made friends with the lady who runs a basement church downtown, and she paid me for doing some landscaping. Not all church people are bad.”

  “Of course not. The brothers…” Cam stopped with a quick shake of his head. “I know good people who serve the church too.”

  Hmm, so the brothers might be religious brothers. Dylan tucked away that nugget for later examination. Was there a connection? Brothers? Church? Did he dare think angels? The ghostly shadows seemed to have disappeared, oddly, but Dylan’s curiosity only ratcheted up. Cam seemed normal, even beautiful in the pale light. What strange creature was this, trustingly holding Dylan’s hand? In his time on the streets, he’d had seen a lot of bizarre, fucked-up things, but this was—Cam was—something way the hell out there.

  And for better or worse, Dylan was intrigued.

  “It’s terrible you had to go through that,” Cam said softly, toying with Dylan’s fingers twined around his own. “My own family can be quite strict, but I can’t imagine them turning me away.”

  “No?” Dylan tipped his head. “Not even for being here with me? Not for letting me kiss you and hold you and do nasty things with you?” He dropped his voice deliberately lower and grinned when Cam’s cheeks flushed in the candlelight.

  Cam smiled back shyly, but then he sobered. “They’re overprotective. They want me to be among… I mean, to get to know people, but not to form bonds. It’s hard. Like seeing what you want through a window but never being able to touch it.”

  “Why not? What’s wrong with having friends?”

  “Friends ask too many questions.” He lifted his eyebrows meaningfully before going back to studying their hands.

  “So that’s why you’ve never had a boyfriend?”

  “It wasn’t for lack of wanting. There was someone…”

  “What? C’mon, you gotta tell me now that I told you everything about my fucked-up past. It’s only fair.”

  Cam shifted on the mattress. “All right. I’ll tell you, but you can’t ask any more questions after this.”

  “Cross my heart.” Like hell he wouldn’t.

  Chapter Seven

  If Tash were here now, he’d be dragging Cam out to the street and loading him onto the next plane to the basilica. But Cam was sick and tired of hiding, always hiding. He drew a deep breath, then said, “There was another student in my literature class at Bann. His name was Simon. Most of the other kids kept their distance. I sat apart, wearing dark glasses, because of, you know…” He waved vaguely toward his eyes. “Anyhow, they were told I had a rare eye condition, but I’m sure I seemed strange to them.”

  “So, wait, if you’re wearing sunglasses, then your eyes don’t affect people?”

  He hesitated only a moment before he confessed, “Yes. They’re shielded.” That was more than any trice had ever told another human outside of the brotherhood, he was sure. Dylan only looked more interested. Which was dangerous.

  “Huh. Okay, go on. Simon, eh? Was he cute?”

  “Very handsome,” Cam admitted, remembering the rangy boy with the shaggy brown hair and Cupid’s-bow lips who had dazzled him. “And smart. We often worked as partners on our assignments. He asked me to the library one afternoon, and without asking Tash if I could, I went. I wanted to go, to be alone with him. I’d hoped he had more on his mind than analyzing poetry.”

  Dylan smirked knowingly and made an “mm-hmm” sound, and Cam said, “Of course, he did.”

  “Gettin’ it on in the stacks,” Dylan said. “Nice.”

  “I wish it had been like that. We did…kiss. Simon had a reputation, a well-deserved one, and I fell right into his hands. We didn’t do more than that, but I was so naïve. He started asking questions. He tried to take off my glasses. I…” He swallowed around a lump in his throat.

  “What happened, baby?” Dylan ran his hand up and down Cam’s back soothingly. How he longed to lean into that strong hand, into Dylan’s embrace. God, he prayed he wasn’t being as foolish trusting Dylan as he had been trusting Simon. “He got you to take them off, didn’t he? Something bad happened?”

  He nodded. “Between Simon kissing me and…touching me, I didn’t have the control I should have. I was so dazed, I stared right into his eyes, and he…”

  “Did he fall down like old Jose?”

  “Worse.” He shook his head, seeing the scene far too clearly in his mind. Simon’s mouth widening in a silent scream, his eyes going blank, his face stark with terror as Simon’s darkest nightmares rose up from
his soul to devour him. Cam’s breath caught. “I can’t say anymore. I shouldn’t have told you any of this.”

  “Oh, fuck no, no backing off now.” Dylan gripped Cam’s hand tighter when he tried to pull away. “I’m glad you told me. And I’m not afraid of you, so don’t you worry about that.”

  “You should be.” Cam looked anywhere but at Dylan. What if his roiling emotions compromised his control again? He would never harm Dylan, not intentionally. “Hurting him was the last thing I wanted to do,” he ground out, as much to himself as to Dylan, who pulled him closer. Him, the monster. Dylan wrapped his arm around Cam’s trembling shoulders, far too trusting, but Cam was helpless to resist the offered comfort.

  “Hey, quit it. You’re just different. I like different. I’ll keep your secrets, right here.” He patted his chest over his heart. Cam longed fiercely to believe him.

  He allowed himself to relax into Dylan’s embrace. To be held felt so good. Cam drew his hand free so they could get even closer, hugging hard if awkwardly, knee to thigh on the wheezing air mattress. Dylan ran his hands all over Cam’s back, over Cam’s hair, then kissed his cheek softly. “Poor lonely thing,” he murmured. “My poor angel.”

  “I’m no angel,” Cam whispered back, his cheek pressed against Dylan’s neck.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  A chill poured through Cam’s veins. He froze, his arms tight around Dylan’s lean, tense body. “What do you mean?”

  Dylan pulled back and stared at him. Cam was careful not to meet his eyes directly, but he could see the sober expression from the edge of his vision. “You don’t gotta hide nothing from me,” Dylan said, sliding his fingers down to grip Cam’s hands. “I don’t care that you’re different.”

  “I’m just a man,” he said, wishing it were so. Wishing it with every fiber of his accursed being. His breath came short and fast as the walls closed in on him.

  Dylan shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why do you say that?” When Dylan said nothing, Cam’s heart lodged in his throat. “What do you see?”

  He gave a weak shrug. “Wings?”

  “Oh God, no.” He struggled to his knees. “It’s impossible.”

  “Okay, hey, maybe that’s not what I see.” Dylan wouldn’t let go of Cam’s hands, and as if he had some strange magic that sucked the energy from Cam’s trembling muscles, Cam remained kneeling, facing him. “Shh. Don’t flip out on me, it’s cool.”

  “Tell me.” Cam stared hard at the center of Dylan’s chest. “Tell me exactly what you see.”

  “I wish you’d look at me.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Just… Shadows, behind you. Around us. Not always.”

  Impossible, and yet, clearly, possible. Dylan must surely feel the tremors coursing through Cam’s body. He’d heard the expression “trembling with fear,” but until now had never experienced it.

  “Dylan, you must listen and listen well. Forget all I’ve told you tonight. Forget my name, that you ever knew me, as I shall forget you.” Summoning the last of his strength, he ripped his hands from Dylan’s and staggered to his feet, then stumbled toward the door.

  Somehow, Dylan beat him to it, wedging himself between Cam and the exit. “I won’t forget you, asshole. What the hell? What do you think is going to happen?”

  Cam shouldered past him, got a hand on the knob. Dylan threw himself back against the door. Utterly frustrated, Cam growled out, “I’m not like you.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Don’t make me prove it.” God, please don’t make me prove it.

  Dylan bunched the front of Cam’s shirt in his hands, tried to force him to meet his gaze. Cam wrenched his head away. His eyes would burn, scald.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you. I don’t know what you are, and I don’t want to know. All right? Don’t tell me. I don’t care. I shouldn’t have said nothing. I just want you.”

  “Want me?” He couldn’t stop a huff of cold laughter. “Oh, Dylan. This can never be.”

  Tash was right—mixing with humans led to disaster. Cam tried to force open the door with Dylan’s determined weight against it, but strong fists grabbed him, pushed him up against the wall. Cam could only gasp when Dylan caught his face between his hands and slid his mouth over his. A jolt of pure heat left his knees weak, and for one moment, one sweet, suspended moment, he tasted all he’d lost, all he’d desired, in this one man’s kiss. And so it was he stood stunned enough that he forgot to shield his eyes when Dylan pulled back to berate him further.

  As any human would, Dylan tried to search Cam’s eyes.

  “No…” Cam turned his head, too late. Dylan gave a strangled bark of shock, then crumpled as if struck, the sound of his knees hitting the hardwood floor a sharp crack, his arms crossed over his head. His voice rose in a wordless, keening cry that knifed through Cam’s heart. God knew what nightmares swarmed his mind. “Dylan.” Cam reached out, then pulled back his hand.

  Useless. There was nothing he could do. No serpent possessed the antidote to its own venom. Time alone would heal Dylan now.

  But Cam would live with this heartache forever. While he could, he turned and shot out of the apartment door. He nearly knocked down Jose, who stood up, gaping and wide-eyed, from his hallway post when Cam appeared, running to get back to the life he never should have left.

  The next morning, Dylan waited in the shadows between the houses across the street from Cam’s house. The sun kept rising, and minute by minute, his protected position got narrower. He pulled Gertie closer to his leg and whispered, “Hush” when she gave a low growl at Tash’s appearance. That redheaded dude exiting Cam’s door with Cam close behind him had to be Tash. Squinting in the chilly nine a.m. sunlight, Dylan tried to detect wings or shapes or anything odd about the guy but saw only a long-legged man in jeans, a black leather jacket, and sunglasses. Cam wore dark aviators too. An involuntary shiver ran through Dylan when he remembered why they covered their eyes. To hide their power.

  He had no recollection of how long he’d huddled on the floor of his room last night after Cam had left, only that he’d woken up with his whole face swollen with tears and the impression of oblivion all around him. He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep, afraid the nightmare visions would come back, but he’d been so worn out, he’d sunk swiftly into a dreamless slumber and woken up this morning with one thing on his mind: Cameron Coburn.

  Dylan hadn’t felt such an overwhelming, all-consuming need since he’d given up drugs. That awful, crawly, under-the-skin sensation that demanded satisfaction possessed him from the moment he’d cracked his lids open. But it wasn’t exactly like a drug craving. This was emotional, not just physical, although there sure was the physical end of things. Just looking at Cam standing there, one foot on a step higher than the other, his big hands spread apart while he said something to his brother, had Dylan’s dick’s at attention.

  They should have fucked the night away instead of playing twenty questions like they were at a little girls’ sleepover. With a disgruntled huff, Dylan adjusted himself and leaned closer to the building’s sheltering brick side. Yeah, he had to be fucking nuts to come back here and confront the guy, or whatever he was, who’d laid him low with just a glance, but he was a stubborn motherfucker, and he never could take no for an answer.

  Besides, Cam had promised to take care of the dog today. And a promise was a promise.

  Their conversation across the street seemed to be wrapping up. Tash slapped Cam companionably on the arm, then turned and got into the driver’s side of a silver Nissan parked along the curb. Dylan wondered where he took off to. Cam had said he’d be gone all day. Good. That gave them plenty of time to sort things out between them.

  He waited until Tash’s car had gone around the corner before he stepped out into the sunshine. Cam still stood on the steps, watching Tash drive away, and Dylan’s movement must have drawn his gaze. Dylan could tell the exact second he recognized
him, ’cause Cam’s whole body jolted upright and went stiff. He wore a dark blue T-shirt and jeans, and he’d had his hands in his front pockets. Now he drew them out slowly as Dylan began to cross the road, almost as if he planned to raise them and fend Dylan off. Too late. With Gertie trotting by his side, Dylan strode across the street.

  Cam’s mouth opened, in shock, no doubt, and he turned and practically leaped up the three steps to his front door. Dylan broken into a run and grabbed his shoulder just as he pulled the door open. “Hey!”

  “Dylan, I—”

  Dylan pushed past him into the house, so now he stared at Cam from inside, across the threshold. “Well? Are you coming in?”

  Cam’s mouth dropped open again, but nothing came out. Dylan liked to think that behind those inky shades, Cam blinked in astonishment. Without a word, he stumbled in, then shut the door behind them.

  “You can’t be here,” he sputtered.

  “Like hell I can’t. It’s your turn to watch the dog.” He tried to push the leash at Cam, but Cam backed away.

  “You must be insane. Why are you here? After—”

  “After last night. Yeah.” He moved, closing the space between them until Cam was backed up and trapped against the small table by the front door. “Nice trick you pulled, but as you can see, I don’t go down so easy. Well”—he smirked—“not like that, anyhow.” Knowing all his anger and lust must be roiling in his eyes, he dragged his gaze up and down Cam’s body. As if he hadn’t wanted Cam enough before, now, this close to him, his pulse began to throb through him, need flooding him like a narcotic craving. He scowled. “You shouldn’t have run. Shouldn’t have left me there.”

  “I had to. What else would you have had me do?”

  “Stay, you fucktard.”

  Cam’s dark brows lowered. “I could have killed you.”

  “Yeah, well, you didn’t.”

  “It’s only going to happen again. Around you, I don’t have the control I should.”

  “I like losing control.” Amazed at how hard his dick had gotten—maybe it was the danger—Dylan crowded Cam a little more, close enough to breathe in Cam’s lemony scent mixed with a tang of fear sweat. “I don’t mind if you lose it either. Look, I’m not dead, okay? Who knows, maybe I have some kind of magic charm against whatever your mojo is.”