by CC Bridges
The doors slammed shut, and the thief and his friends began pawing at Gabe’s clothes.
“Gonna make us some good cash on this one. Real pretty.”
“Premium parts too.” A hand stroked his cheek, and Gabe flinched. “He’s got ports. You sure he’s a downsider?”
“Look at his clothes.” The kid snorted. “Just another bitch trying to get a midleveler to whore for.”
Gabe opened his mouth to speak, and his lips failed him. He stopped fighting against the drug. If he could let his supercharged immune system take over, he’d be able to push through its effects. Hopefully that would happen before they started to carve him up.
One of them pulled off his jacket, and Gabe’s arms flopped to the floor of the van like a doll’s. His belly coiled with nausea, and he couldn’t catch his breath as they started to work off his shirt. Their touch crawled on his skin like a thousand insects.
“What the hell is that?”
“He’s altered.”
“Fuck. What the hell did you do, Kyl?”
“Ain’t my fault!”
Gabe tried to crawl away, get away from the pawing hands and the eyes that stared at his folded-up wing and the tattered remains of the other. If they knew what he was, he was in far greater danger than simply being cut up for parts. What would one of the demons pay for a fallen angel?
The van swerved and they were all thrown to one side. Gabe was pressed up against the wall, the metal cold on his skin. He heard voices and thumps coming from the front.
“What the fuck was that? Thom? You okay?”
“Get out of my way….”
The back door opened, and his captors scrambled outside, leaving Gabe to himself. His lungs felt starved, and he gasped for air. He tried to roll, to get out of the enclosed space. The van shifted as someone climbed back in.
“Dammit, Gabe.”
Hank? He blinked, trying to see with his fucked-up vision. Gentle hands touched his wrist and pulled off the drug patch. Gabe flexed his fingers, already getting his range of motion back.
“We have to move. Ian can’t hold them all off forever.”
“Trying,” Gabe said, relieved he could speak that much.
Hank’s hands slid around his waist to help him up. He took in a great gasp of air. “Fuck, Gabe.”
Hank would know what the folded-up wing meant. Gabe resisted the urge to pull away from him. “Jacket.”
“Good idea.” Hank grabbed the discarded jacket and threw it over Gabe’s shoulders, hiding his altered back. He half-carried Gabe out, ducking as he pulled him out of the line of fire.
And it was a showdown. The men in the van had projectile weapons, and they’d targeted a figure that darted between the shadows just ahead. Ian emerged only for a moment to get off a shot of his own, and unlike his victims, he had a pulse gun. They missed him every time, but he had two of them down before flitting away again.
Hank pulled Gabe behind a brick wall, leaning up against it and breathing heavily. “Mattie went to get the bike. We’ll be out of here soon.”
“Ian,” Gabe said, still not capable of more coherent speech.
“He’ll be fine.” Hank gave him a tight smile. “He was my bodyguard uplevel. Knows what he’s doing.”
Gabe tilted his head, knowing he’d be able to make more sense of this if the drugs hadn’t clouded his mind. What was in that drug patch? There had to be something with a paralyzing agent of course, but clearly more to leave him this thickheaded.
“Why?”
“My family name. It’s Abraham.”
Chapter Ten
GABE WOKE, cocooned in sweet-smelling sheets softer than anything they’d had at the barracks. There he’d been swaddled in regulation linens, sharing a large chamber with the other angels. But that wasn’t the first place he thought of when he opened his eyes and glanced around the strange room. He missed his attic bedroom in Jeff’s house, with the sloped ceiling and tall window that looked out over the junkyard. In such a short time, the space Jeff had given him had become home.
This room could fit in half of the attic room, just large enough for a bed and a chair tucked in the corner, though there was a window that looked out over the city. Gabe pushed the sheets off him so he could take a look and saw his own shirtless state. Shit.
Hank and Ian had brought him back here, to Ronnie’s place, after last night. He remembered them dragging him up the back entrance, Mattie shushing them all so Ronnie wouldn’t hear. Gabe let his head fall into his hands. Hank was a fucking Abraham. It made sense why he’d have to come down here to live with his lover. No Abraham should ever bow his neck to one of the lower class. Ian was a working man, but Hank had been born to privilege among one of the founding families of Heaven. Something ticked in the back of Gabe’s memory, about a scandal in the newsfeeds, but as an angel, he’d paid little attention to those things.
And now Hank and Ian knew what Gabe truly was. He snatched up the shirt on the chair, not his own—that had been shredded and left behind in the van. He’d have to take care not to ruin this one. Once covered, he pushed the door open and walked down the narrow hallway. He heard voices coming from the end.
“…which one of us is going to tell Jeff?”
“I will,” Ian responded. “It’s my responsibility.”
Gabe crept closer, not wanting to give his presence away yet. He could see around the corner into a tiny kitchenette. Mattie leaned against the wall, holding a robe closed over her chest. The garment had fallen off one shoulder, showing where gleaming golden metal met dark brown skin. He hadn’t known she was modded.
Hank knelt at his lover’s side, one hand bunched in Ian’s pants. “I’m the one who promised to show him a good time. I just didn’t think….”
Ian stroked his fingers through Hank’s blond curls, looking down at him fondly. “I don’t want Jeff taking a swing at you when he finds out.”
“Gotta protect that pretty face,” Mattie said, but didn’t smile at the jibe.
“Don’t want him hitting you either,” Hank grumbled, but leaned into the touch.
Gabe stepped forward. “Jeff isn’t hitting anyone. How many times must I say it? I am not his boy.”
All three of them exchanged looks, and then Mattie snorted into laughter, breaking the tension. Gabe leaned against the wall and allowed himself to smile. He didn’t belong to Jeff, not the way Hank belonged to Ian, but he wouldn’t say no to something more. It was time to start over—not as the man he’d been or the angel he’d become. Now he had to be just Gabe of Old Trent.
Hank pushed himself to his feet and walked toward Gabe, his face serious. “Gabe. Does Jeff know about…?” He made a flappy gesture with his hands.
“Yes,” he said. “He knows what I was.”
“But not anymore?” Ian asked.
How to explain it? Gabe would never have chosen to fall, to have his halo ripped away from him. But now that his memories were intact, he knew he could never go back to being that mindless drone.
“Never again. Now I make my own choices.”
Mattie fiddled with the collar of her robe. “Now that we’ve gotten that cleared up, let’s hit Ronnie up for some damn breakfast.”
“You don’t mind?” Gabe asked, surprised they were willing to let this go, an actual angel in their midst. While most from above looked at angels with awe, there was fear too, since they were the ones who enforced the morality laws.
“Boy, people come down here for all sorts of reasons.” She touched Ian on the shoulder as she walked past him. “I’m not gonna start judging now.”
JEFF HAD all the parts laid out on his drafting table. There was plenty more machining to do, but he figured he’d best start working out the programming. This would be pointless if he couldn’t get the tiny metal feathers to work together as one unit.
Kayla perched on her chair, watching him intently. She kept her hands far out of reach of the table, knowing from experience not to mess with any of his projects. At th
is point she had her own suggestions about how to put the wing together, and to his surprise, Jeff found himself implementing them.
He grinned at his daughter. “Ready to see if it’ll work?”
“It’ll work.”
“I’ll remember that you said that when it falls apart.”
Kayla laughed, and he cherished the sound.
Jeff ran his fingers over the flat panel controller. It would have been far easier to program if he could jack in, just send his thoughts directly to the processing unit of the wing—or rather, all the tiny brains in each feather, the only way he’d imagined how this would work. But Jeff had to stop thinking like that, especially with Kayla right there.
He would never jack in again. It was a promise he intended to keep.
“Dad, can I turn it on?”
Her eyes were so wide, her face so hopeful. Jeff couldn’t help the swell of pride that rose in his chest. Kayla learned so quickly; she’d be a fine mechanist. Hell, she’d surpass Jeff by the time she grew up. He handed over the panel board, wondering where his little girl had gone. This serious, assured programmer didn’t resemble her at all.
Jeff sat back, letting Kayla take control. At first the tiny feathers only vibrated, but as Kayla stroked her fingers across the panel, the metal pieces merged and fused, fluttering until they collapsed against each other in perfect formation.
“It worked!” Kayla shouted, sounding like a child but grown up enough not to jump out of her seat and disturb their work.
“Of course it did.”
“Dad.” She grinned at him.
Jeff smiled back, unable to deny her. “There is still a lot of work left to do. We don’t even know if it’ll talk to Gabe’s systems. He might not even want some cobbled-together wing.”
“Of course he does. He wants to fly.”
He marveled at her insight, but before he could reply to it, the proximity alarms went off. Jeff turned to face the screens and saw that it was Gabe, escorted by Hank and Ian. His heart thumped faster at the sight. Finally. He’d been worried after the message Ian had left saying they’d be late.
“No ruining the surprise, all right?”
Kayla put the control panel down carefully. “You will totally blurt it out. Not me.”
“We’ll see about that.” Jeff locked the workshop behind them. He might have had a little bounce in his step as they made their way to the main gate, but he attributed that to getting the wing parts working. The project was far more complicated than anything he’d attempted before, and he admitted to feeling smug at figuring it out so quickly. Gabe would be flying again in no time.
Maybe that would give him a fighting chance against the demons.
Jeff first saw Gabe through the metal wire of the gate as he climbed out of the bike’s sidecar. He still wore the leather jacket Jeff had loaned him, looking small underneath its bulk. Jeff didn’t even notice Hank and Ian, not until he’d turned off the alarm and opened the gate.
“Have a good time?” Jeff asked.
Hank looked up at Ian before blurting out, “Gabe almost got grabbed by flesh dealers. God, Jeff, I’m so sorry.”
Ian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I thought I was going to tell him.”
Jeff stopped walking, losing the smile. “What?” He was aware of Trixie butting against him, nosing at his legs as if she knew something was wrong.
“I’m fine.” Gabe stepped forward, putting his hand on Jeff’s chest. “I’m right here.”
“What happened?” Jeff fell into intense green eyes, resisting the urge to touch Gabe, make sure he was actually there.
“Icer got him with a drug patch,” Ian said. He’d stepped in front of Hank, blocking him from Jeff’s view.
Fuck, anything could have happened to Gabe after that. A pit of ice formed in his belly. Images flashed in his mind—Gabe dead, dismembered, in the hands of demons. Jeff gave in and grasped the angel by the shoulders, needing to feel solid flesh in his hands.
“You are never going out with Hank and Ian again,” he declared.
Gabe actually smiled at that. He probably didn’t know Jeff wasn’t joking. Fuck, if he’d been killed, what would the demons have done to Jeff and Kayla in return? Jeff couldn’t let Gabe out of his sight again.
“You’re going to have to teach me how to survive down here,” Gabe said, his expression turning serious. “Especially if I’m going to be staying. Jeff, you have to.”
Jeff swallowed, forcing himself to remember they were surrounded by the others, Hank and Ian still looking so nervous, Trixie at his heels, and Kayla just behind her. He couldn’t just promise Gabe anything he asked, no matter how much he wanted to. This, though, this he could do.
“Someone has to,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Heaven knows I can’t trust these two.”
“Hey—” Hank started to protest before Ian slapped his hand over his lover’s mouth.
“I think you should quit while we’re ahead,” Ian murmured. Hank nodded, unable to speak. “Jeff, I’m sorry.”
“You should know better.” Jeff stepped away from Gabe, letting Kayla swoop in from behind and wrap her arms around the angel’s neck in a quick hug. Gabe held her close.
Gabe disentangled himself from Kayla and Trixie, straightening the jacket. His fingers lingered on the soft leather, and he looked over at Hank and Ian. “There’s one more thing.”
What else?
Gabe let the jacket slip off his shoulders as he said, “I owe Hank a shirt.”
Anger burned in his throat, and Jeff saw nothing but red for a moment. Then the implications of what Gabe was really saying hit him.
“They know what I am.” Gabe bit his lip as he met Jeff’s eyes, confirming his fear.
“Mattie too,” Hank put in.
Fuck, was there anyone else? At least Jeff still kept the demons’ secret. No one but Ronnie knew how Gabe came to be here or about the promise Jeff had made. And he hoped to never have to turn Gabe over to Luca’s men.
GABE DIDN’T know Jeff well enough to guess how angry he was. The other man had been curt with Hank and Ian, all but dismissing them before retreating to his workshop. Gabe ended up following Kayla toward the house, taking turns tossing treats in the air for Trixie to catch.
“Don’t ever give her nutricubes,” Kayla told him, handing him another hard biscuit.
“I won’t,” he said, letting Trixie lick the crumbs from his fingers. He felt unsettled about how he’d left things with Jeff. Gabe would almost rather have had Jeff take that swing at Ian, just to get it out of the way. Instead the older man went off to brood.
If this was truly his start on a new life, Gabe couldn’t let Jeff call all the shots. Yes, he owed Jeff a lot, owed him everything. But Gabe meant it when he said that he wanted Jeff to teach him how to live down here. He wasn’t going to be anyone’s boy. Gabe would earn his keep.
“I’m going to talk to your dad,” he told Kayla, backing up from her and Trixie.
She grinned at him. “I’ll start dinner.”
He laughed as he turned back toward the workshop. Starting dinner began and ended with choosing the flavor of nutricube. Gabe thought Trixie probably had more flavorful food.
Yet he didn’t miss the food from uplevel. Yes, there were more choices there, but he’d never wanted anything but basic nutrition. Even when he’d stood honor guard at various banquets and gotten his choice of the best cuisine, his former self couldn’t see the point of eating for pleasure. He ate when the other angels did, making sure he had enough sustenance to support flight.
How hadn’t he noticed how wrong it all was? Gabe scratched at his forehead, the port at his temple suddenly itchy.
When he got to Jeff’s workshop, he heard music playing, the same melancholy voice from the crate of antiques Jeff had taken in delivery. A chill ran through him, and he wondered if he, like the items taken out of an airtight container, would begin to age now that he was gone from Heaven and all its trea
tments.
Gabe snorted, pushing open the door to the shop. He’d finally be normal then. Even aging would be better than spending two hundred more years of not knowing himself. As he stepped inside, Jeff looked up, shock etched on the part of his face not covered by huge goggles.
“I’m sorry,” Gabe started, knowing he was invading Jeff’s sanctuary. But he wanted to apologize for last night too. “Don’t blame Hank and Ian. I was the one stupid enough to….” He trailed off, finally catching sight of exactly what Jeff was working on: tiny fragments of metal, each shaped like a teardrop, exactly like the feathers of his wing. Gabe moved closer to see and yes, it was just the beginnings, hardly anything to look at yet, but Jeff was making a wing.
“Is that….” He swallowed, not wanting to jump to conclusions. Jeff built a lot of things for other people too. “A wing for me?”
Jeff pulled off the goggles and set them on the table. “Would hardly build one for anyone else.”
No. Demon wings worked differently. Of course.
Gabe reached out with one hand, hovering over the table, but not daring to touch. Jeff had spent his time crafting this, coming up with some way to mend Gabe’s broken body. He hadn’t realized how much he missed flying until suddenly it wasn’t so farfetched any longer.
Jeff apparently didn’t know how to take his silence. “I don’t even know if it’ll work. I mean, I’m just guessing at the programming, but I think the workmanship is good. If you don’t want, I mean, maybe you just wanted to remove the other one?”
Gabe shuddered at that idea. Yes, removing his one remaining wing would let him fit in with the unmodded down in Old Trent. Hell, it would have prevented Hank’s discovery last night. All it took was a torn shirt for Gabe to be outed as an angel to anyone who could see. But no, he could not imagine tearing off that wing.
“No,” he told Jeff, coming around the table. Warmth spread in his chest at the proof of how much Jeff cared, to spend so much time on this. And all for Gabe. It was like Jeff somehow knew Gabe would want to be whole. He would be something between angel and man, yes, but complete nonetheless.
