by Bree Moore
“You made breakfast yesterday.” She failed to suppress a yawn.
Fletcher grinned and handed me an apron. “Your help is sick today. Or at least he claims to be. I decided to fill in, rather than leave our breakfast at your mercy.”
“Thanks,” Harper said dryly, accepting the apron he offered.
“You can start the eggs.” He nodded toward two woks on the stove. A literal crate of eggs sat next to it.
“Do I fry them or what?”
“Scramble. It’s a lot easier.” He frowned as he flipped a pancake and it fell awkwardly on the edge of the griddle, batter slipping onto the counter.
“Glad to see you’re not perfect.” Harper cracked eggs into a giant glass measuring cup, using two hands at a time. It was a trick she learned at a foster home she once lived in. The father in that home could crack two in each hand at a time. Harper’s hands were too small for such a feat, so she stuck with what she could manage.
The woks heated up quickly, and Harper whisked what seemed like a gallon of eggs before pouring some into each.
Fletcher came up behind Harper, whistling as if amazed. “You sure can wield a spatula.”
“Yeah, well, you learn a few things in foster care when you get sick of eating cold cereal all the time and have eleven kids to cook for.”
“We have over forty ‘kids,’” Fletcher pointed out.
Harper laughed. “Hey, your pancakes are burning.” Fletcher ran back to his griddle and flipped a few. They were perfect golden brown circles. He made a show of rolling his eyes at her.
The darkness of last night gradually lifted and despite the drizzling grey morning, Harper could see through the bay windows behind the main table. Residents filtered into the kitchen. They still chattered about yesterday’s news, and how today was a day off from classes. No wonder everyone was in a good mood. Even the vamps looked happy, though maybe because it was overcast and they could go outside for once.
They started serving, piling up plates as they were handed across the counter. Harper laughed at the jokes tossed between Fletcher and the other residents. Ian smiled and asked how her morning had been as he came through and got a stack of pancakes. Kamri followed close behind, winking and gesturing for a couple extra sausages, which Harper gladly tossed onto her plate.
You’re the best, Kamri mouthed, grinning ear to ear and making her way to the breakfast nook where several other werewolves were stuffing their mouths. Some had already been through for seconds.
The eggs ran out, and Harper cracked and cooked more, then ripped open another package of sausages. She was starving, and watching everyone else eat was torture.
“Be sure to set something aside for us.” Harper curled her shoulders up at the tickling sensation Fletcher’s voice made in her ear, but she smiled. He set two plates on the counter, pancakes already loaded, and Harper added eggs and sausage. The activity in the kitchen died down as residents finished their food and headed out to enjoy their single day of freedom. Fletcher switched off the griddles, pulling the last few pancakes off the heated surfaces and plating them for someone else to eat. He untied his apron.
“You want that off?” he asked, gesturing. Harper untied the string one-handed, but she was still pushing a few last eggs around a wok and couldn’t get it off her head. Fletcher took it for her and tossed the aprons through a small laundry chute in the wall. She turned off the burner and slid the wok onto a cooler side of the stove, then grabbed their plates.
Fletcher joined Harper at the breakfast nook, now abandoned by the werewolves. It smelled like wet dog, and her nose wrinkled.
“I think some of our furrier friends were outside last night.” Fletcher laughed, handing Harper a fork and snagging one of the plates with his other hand. Harper reached the syrup pitcher before he did and poured it onto her pancakes.
“No butter? Heathen!” He made a mock-horrified face, and Harper laughed. He carefully spread butter to the edge of each pancake before adding syrup. Somehow, the mundanity of sitting down and eating breakfast gave Harper permission to relax in a way she hadn’t in years.
“So, what are you doing with your grand day off?” Harper set her fork down.
Fletcher’s cheerful expression wavered. He cleared his throat and looked at his plate. “I guess I can’t blame you for not remembering. Or knowing. Did I tell you?” He laughed anxiously, looking back up but not at her. His fork pushed food around his plate. “I leave for my operation tonight.”
Harper’s mouth opened in a silent O. “You mean…it’s your last day as…with…”
“My wings, yeah. You can say it. I’ve gotten used to the idea. I promised myself if I had any doubts I wouldn’t go through with it, so I’ve taken my time making sure this is what I want. So don’t feel sorry for me.”
Harper looked back at her plate, picked up her fork, and scooped a bite into her mouth. Not out of hunger, but to keep from saying something she’d regret. Fletcher put his fork down and stretched his arms, then placed them behind his head, leaning back into the diner-style bench they sat on.
“The last day. It’s a big deal. What would you do?”
His question caught Harper off guard, and she nearly choked on her food. “I-I haven’t thought about it.”
“I didn’t expect you had. That’s why I asked you. I wondered what you would say before anyone has had a chance to influence you.”
Harper licked her lips, glancing over to him, then at the opposite wall. “I would fly.”
“The whole day?”
“Yeah. I haven’t had many chances. Always monitored by non-paranormal foster parents and teachers, no space to just…be what I am. It’s what I’ve loved most since coming here.” Harper realized the words were true as she said them. She’d grown used to transforming without fear of getting caught for the first time in her life. That kind of freedom…it would be worth fighting for. Without the strings of Naturalization attached. Would Lilith’s plan enable a future where that would be possible? No hiding, no limits, just…freedom.
“That look in your eyes, I wish I knew what it meant.”
Harper remembered Fletcher’s presence and startled. “What look?”
“The one you just had, as if you were thinking about something wonderful.”
“I was dreaming of a world where anything is possible.”
Fletcher laughed, but not in a mocking way. “You seem like that type. I knew I would like you from the first day I saw you in Mr. Petrov’s class.”
Harper stared at him. He’d been looking at…at her? She didn’t think he’d even noticed her. Certainly not the way she noticed him and his impressive wings.
“Care for a race?” Fletcher asked.
Harper grinned, then stood to take her plate to the sink. Fletcher grabbed it from her, then leaped over the table and landed gracefully on the other side, taking the dishes to the large sinks where two other residents washed up.
They walked toward the front door together. Fletcher’s eyes lingered on Harper, and her face heated. She took a deep breath. It’s just flying, Harper.
Fletcher let out a nervous, breathy laugh. What did he have to be nervous about?
“Can I ask you a personal, possibly offensive question?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“What…species are you? If you know? And you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.” He rushed to the end.
“No one has ever asked me that before.” Harper stopped before the door. Fletcher reached across her to open it, gesturing for her to go first. “Thanks.”
“Sure thing. You…you were saying?” He stood on the porch, making no move toward the stairs.
Harper frowned. “I only know what my older brother told me. He said our parents were from Alaska, from a raven clan that may or may not still exist.”
“Not crow?”
“No.”
“Good. Crow are too mischievous for me. Raven, that’s like, n
oble. Are you descended from the Raven? You know, the one that some native legends say created man? He’s essentially God, but cooler because he’s a bird.”
Harper burst out with a loud laugh. “No way!”
“Yes way!” Fletcher jammed his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. “I can’t believe you don’t know that. Get a library card. Do an internet search sometime. Better yet, go to Alaska, find a tribe leader and ask about it. You’ll love it.”
“Well, if I ever get out of here, you should come with me.”
His smile widened, and Harper’s heart galloped in her chest. “Absolutely. Road trip with a Raven daughter, how could I say no to that?”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Are we doing this or not?”
“Let’s go.” Fletcher grabbed her hand in his, engulfing it in warmth. He pulled her toward the stairs and they both leapt off, then ran down the gravel driveway together.
Harper released Fletcher’s hand and shrugged off her jacket, letting it fall into the dirt. Her wings unfurled in a single, swift motion. Fletcher’s eyes lit up, but his face fell when he glanced down at his shirt, which was a human civilian style with no holes in the back for him to shift out of.
“Here, let me.” Harper went around him, gripping his shirt at the back. The fabric resisted, then gave in to her supernatural strength, tearing apart. She spread the hole out, stretching it across his back and making an opening wide enough to reveal his shoulder blades.
Fletcher shifted, feathers erupting from his back in a flurry of blue. Harper ducked out of the way, laughing to see the gorgeous colors fanned out in front of her.
Passing him, Harper broke into a run, flapping her wings and lifting off into the air. She heard footsteps, then wingbeats, and Fletcher shot past. She chased his laughter and his blue wings, wings that matched the sky except for the strips of white and black here and there. Blue Jay. Harper had never before seen a being as wonderful as he was.
Fletcher did a spiral in the air, gliding on his back for just a moment before flipping back over, wings spread. Harper caught up, a warm updraft catching her wings and letting her glide along beside him.
“Where’s your favorite place to fly here?” she asked.
“There’s some cliffs on the north side,” Fletcher replied. “Want me to show you?”
Harper grinned and Fletcher banked sharply, leading her north.
It was a day like she’d never had before, spent entirely in bird form, flying over trees and diving between rock formations. They made up games as they went, throwing rocks at targets chosen as they flew, calling out challenges to show off different moves.
Together, they owned the sky.
They stopped in at the cabin to grab lunch, breathless and laughing, hardly noticing the others, as if a bubble surrounded just the two of them, keeping out every worry, everything wrong with society and the world. The conversation with Lilith the night before hung in the back of Harper’s mind, but every time it tried to come forward, she shoved it away. Time would come for those thoughts later. With Fletcher, all she had was now.
She tried not to think about that too much, either, and Fletcher didn’t bring it up again, but as the day wore on, his demeanor changed. His chatter slowed, allowing Harper to lead the conversation. She wasn’t much of a talker, however, so eventually all conversation between them died.
They flew over the cabin for the upteenth time, passing the dueling field where white circles were swallowed in the long, reaching shadows of the trees. The sun dipped into the horizon. Fletcher held his course heading north, rather than turning back to the cabin to end the flight. They soared in silence, which wasn’t so bad, but Harper kept glancing over, wondering what he was thinking.
“Up ahead.”
Harper followed his gaze. The largest cliff in the area loomed ahead, lit up in a brilliant orange. She banked with Fletcher, soaring toward the top of the cliff, where they both landed. Harper shook out her legs, which felt jelly-like after a full day of flying. Fletcher walked to the edge and sat, tucking his wings against his back.
Harper sat down next to him, letting her feet dangle over the side of the cliff. Even with her wings the height made her feel heady. She sensed something change in Fletcher; a feeling of permission.
She cleared her throat, the words she’d resisted all day surfacing at last. “Are you afraid?”
“Terrified.”
“Then why…” Harper trailed off. She didn’t want to say the words out loud.
He looked out across the horizon. “I guess because I’m more afraid of the life I lived before. Living in fear of getting caught, possibly tortured or captured and shown off as a freak. The people of today aren’t much better at acclimating to the strange and inexplicable than their ancestors were.”
It made sense…sort of. Harper had been teased and beaten her whole life just because she was a strange, skinny foster kid. What would have happened if they’d known what she truly was?
“Do your parents know?”
“They’re waiting for me back home.” Fletcher looked toward his feet. “They both naturalized. My older sister, too. They say it’s better to wait for the procedure until your body has matured. Something about younger children going into shock making it too dangerous. Anyway, my parents met in a camp like this. They were almost forbidden to marry, but by that time my mom was pregnant with my sister and it was too late. The government scrambled to tag us both and created a set of restrictions. We had to live super rural, couldn’t go to public school, took all of the precautions that could be taken.”
“So you’ve grown up your whole life knowing that your parents’ fate …would be your own?” It was hard enough for Harper to imagine having her own parents at home, but to have them know what would happen and do nothing to stop it, encourage it, even… It was unfathomable.
“I knew about Naturalization from the time I could walk and talk. They were very upfront about it, didn’t try to hide it or anything. They encouraged me to choose for myself. I didn’t have much choice, though. I was tagged, so I couldn’t escape. I would be choosing between euthanization or the surgery.” Fletcher’s eyes hardened as he watched the light of the sun falling behind the horizon. Harper wasn’t prepared when he turned that gaze to her. “I would rather live my life than throw it away.”
You shouldn’t have to choose. Harper bit her tongue. She didn’t want his last night to be tainted with her weak attempts to convince him to choose differently, impossibly, between two horrible choices.
“So, you’ll get to see your family when it’s over?”
He nodded. “I’ll come back here and take some time to get my balance, let things normalize. They’ll pick me up in a few days.” His shoulders relaxed and a kind of peacefulness passed over his face.
Harper leaned back on her arms, staring at the orange and yellow sky. Fletcher’s hand covered hers, sending warmth flooding up her arm. She looked at him with wide eyes.
“Thank you. For this. For not freaking out or avoiding me. I…I really appreciate it,” he said. “I don’t think that it comes along too often that you find someone who understands you without saying anything.”
Harper stared into his soft, blue eyes with nothing to say. It had been wonderful. Almost blissful. Well, except for this last part, and what waited for him when they returned to reality.
She wanted it to last forever.
Fletcher leaned in, hesitating inches away from Harper’s face, as if asking permission. Harper was afraid to move, so she closed her eyes. Fletcher’s lips pressed warmly against hers. The edges of their wings brushed against each other. It was the briefest of moments that somehow stretched into eternity until he drew away.
Harper opened her eyes. Fletcher stared at the sunset, as if nothing happened. Her heart pounded. How could he look so calm? Harper tried to decide whether she liked the kiss or if the strange galloping rhythm and the rush of warmth in her chest meant she was coming
down with something, when Fletcher turned and gave her an unexpected, goofy grin.
“Race you back to the cabin?”
Harper touched her lips, then jerked her fingers away. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
Fletcher climbed to his feet and helped Harper up from the cliff edge. They backed up together, holding hands, then ran and leapt into the air, separating at the last moment. Harper caught herself right away and pushed the air beneath her wings, flapping hard and fast. Fletcher fell below her in a dive before his brilliant blue wings tilted and brought him up again.
It was a solid tie when they landed, sending a spray of gravel into the air as they skidded, laughing breathlessly from the flight. Fletcher’s cheeks were pink when he grabbed Harper’s waist and spun her around, wings flapping. He set her down.
“I had a great time tonight, Harper. Thank you, again.”
“You’re welcome,” Harper said, finding her tongue. His head tilted toward hers, and she wondered if he was going to kiss her again.
The crunch of car tires on gravel interrupted them and Fletcher jerked away. He stepped back, wings shrinking fast. He clasped his arms behind him and ducked his head.
“Who is it?” Harper asked.
“James. He said he would take me.”
“Are you okay with that?”
Fletcher glanced at his feet. “Yeah. I’ve known him most of my life. He’s friends with my father. I would rather my parents drive me, but he says it’s not allowed. No family until afterward.”
Harper reached out to take his hand, surprising both of them. He looked at her. She squeezed his hand. “It’ll be alright. Just think about how it will feel to see them again at the end of the week.”
Fletcher’s face split into his characteristic grin, then he released her hand and pulled her in for a crushing hug. She somehow managed to keep it together until he climbed into the car, closed the passenger door, and waved through the windshield. She waved back and the car drove away.
When she saw him again, he’d be wingless.
Flightless.
