With These Wings

by Wendy Knight

  “Is she dangerous?” Cole hated that he had to ask it. But he had to think of Enika. And RayAnna.

  “Yeah. She eats us all alive in our sleep.”

  Okay, yeah. It was a stupid question.

  “Is she coming back?” Cole couldn’t hide the hope in his voice. He was man enough to admit when he was scared, and he’d passed that point about a year and a half ago. “Is she—can you—can you make her normal?”

  Keven shoved the water cooler at him and reached for another one. “If you’re going to sit here and say stupid crap like that, at least work while you’re at it.”

  Cole took the water cooler and followed Keven down another tunnel. They were lit by solar torches, the ground was rough cement and the walls were brick. The ceilings were all arched, probably to be able to support the city above them.

  Keven must have seen him studying the torches, because he said, “They’re connected to solar panels. The wiring from these runs all the way up to the tops of the buildings, where we gathered all the solar panels from the whole valley. And no, in answer to your question, we can’t make her ‘normal.’ No one is trying.”

  “Why not?” Cole had no idea where they were going. If Keven got mad and decided to ditch him, he’d die trying to find his way back.

  “Because everyone is afraid of her. Obviously.”

  “I thought you said she wasn’t dangerous.”

  A muscle in Keven’s jaw ticked angrily. “She’s the only thing standing between us and the Garce. Or us and the Pys. She’s the most deadly thing you’ll ever meet. To them. To the aliens. Not to us. Some people here are just too stupid to get that.” Keven gave him a pointed look.

  Cole felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Everyone had loved his Phoenyx. She had been sweet as heck, and she loved to laugh. The fact that she now lived essentially alone, surrounded by people who were afraid of her, had to be killing her. She was a social butterfly, wings and all.

  Cole smiled at the thought. “I’m not scared of her.”

  Keven raised an eyebrow as he pushed the trap door open and climbed into the light of the abandoned restaurant — a different one than they’d come in through. “You seemed pretty scared of her before.”

  “I didn’t realize who she was before. I guess she can be out in the sun, then, huh? That’s gotta give her an advantage over the Empyreans.”

  Keven jerked up, eyes on the sun peeking over the mountains. He swore, dropped the bucket, and took off running. Cole followed him. He didn’t have to be a genius to know that Keven’s reaction meant Phoenyx was not fine in the sun.

  “Maybe she’s back already. Is it possible she came in while we were out here?”

  “No.” Keven didn’t elaborate. He spun a dial on an old safe, jerked it open, grabbed the keys inside it, and sprinted out the door to a dust-covered 4-Runner sitting on the curb. It took three tries to get it started, and by then Cole was pretty positive it only started out of fear for its life because Keven was ready to melt it down for parts. “Watch the skies,” he barked.

  Cole didn’t need to be told twice. They rode in silence for the next several minutes, the sun rising higher and higher over the mountains.

  “Does she ever not come back?” Cole asked. His stomach was a pit of dark, dark desperation, roiling with despair.

  Keven didn’t look at him. “She’s always come back before.”

  “Could she—” Cole’s voice broke and he had to try again. “Could she hate me so much she just—just left?”

  “She might hate you that much, but she’s the only reason the people in our compound are still alive. She wouldn’t abandon them.” Keven’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

  “It doesn’t sound like they’d care much.”

  Keven hit the brakes, peering through the morning fog. After several long seconds, he sighed and started moving again. “They’re afraid of her. They’ve tried to kill her. They’re idiots.” He shrugged, like that explained it all.

  They both fell silent. Cole’s stomach twisted as his mind raced. Phoenyx was here. She was alive.

  And she was part alien.

  She had wings.

  She had that weird fiery blood attack.

  She had glittering tattoos winding all over her body.

  She had blue streaks in her black hair.

  She was alive.

  She was here.

  I don’t care what you are, Phoenyx. Come back. Please come back. I can’t lose you again.

  “She was here,” Keven said abruptly, slamming the 4-Runner into park in the middle of the highway. Out of habit, Cole checked behind them for oncoming traffic before he got out, but there was nothing but fog and shadows and grass and weeds and trees and silence. A cold chill ran up his spine before he turned his back on the desolation and followed Keven. There was a long dirt mound, like a grave for a twenty-five foot snake, crossing the road and into the park. Keven kicked smoking streaks of Garce pieces, mumbling to himself.

  Cole followed the mound to a tree. There were claw marks on the lower branches, and above, broken branches. Lots of them. In a pile nearby, they were all frozen and smoking, just like the Garce. “Why did she do that?”

  “She was bleeding. Blood attracts Garce. Garce she can fight, but Garce attract Pys. She can’t fight them.”

  Holy crap.

  “She buried the blood.”

  Cole’s eyes swept the mounds of dirt. “That was a lot of blood.” He felt like he couldn’t get enough air. “She’s in trouble. How do we find her?” Memories, thoughts, conversations… things he hadn’t let himself think of over the last year because the pain of it almost undid him — they crashed in on him now. He stumbled, nearly collapsed. “Phoenyx, can I talk to you?”

  She smiled, looking over Ashlyn’s shoulder. They were cross country friends, talking in a little group, like a pack. Or a flock, maybe? What was a tight-knit group of girls called? “Sure, Cole. What’s up?”

  He backed away, motioning her, his heart in his throat and pounding for all it was worth. Was it bad that his pulse sped up to lightning speed just because she walked toward him with that little smirk? Easily the sexiest girl he’d ever met. And she had no idea.

  “I have something important I need to tell you.”

  The smile on her pretty face died, and she frowned, concerned, because she was just that sweet. “Are you okay?”

  “No. Yes.” He ran a hand through his cropped hair, staring skyward, begging for help.

  She reached up, caught his hand. Entwined her fingers with his. “I do too.”

  He froze. His heart froze, his breath froze. His brain froze. All he could do was stare at her. The smile came back, smaller, sweeter. “What?” he finally choked out.

  Batting her eyelashes, she peered up at him with that adorable pouty look he loved so much, leaning into him, small little steps that brought her closer and closer. “I do too,” she whispered.

  “I—you—you love me? I don’t—” His words were rushed, and then panicked because oh holy crap what if that wasn’t what she was going to say and this would ruin their friendship forever and then—

  “Yes.”

  One word. One word was all it took to make everything right in the world. And then she’d kissed him, just a brush of her soft lips against his, and all he could think was that she smelled like lilacs. For the rest of his life, the smell of lilacs would always remind him of her.

  “She’s not stupid. Or weak. She can take care of herself.” Keven’s frown, though, led Cole to believe otherwise.

  “So what? We just go back to the compound and hope she survives the day?”

  Keven stopped, turning slowly. “You’ve survived for over a year without the compound. Why do you think she can’t survive even a day?”

  “Because I didn’t explode into a bubbling pile of ash when the sun touched me? Because I wasn’t already a bloody temptation for the Garce? Because I was never on my own?”

  Keven shrugged. “An
d she is. She’ll be back tonight or we’ll form a search party.”

  Cole growled, stalking after him. “And who will help search? You? Me? Enika? Everyone else wishes she was already dead.”

  “Not everyone.” Keven got in the 4-Runner, his eyes scanning the surrounding buildings. Looking for Phoenyx. “There are some who are stupid. There are some who are scared. But the scared ones are more afraid of life without her than they are life with her. Are you getting in or are you walking back?”

  Cole crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m walking.”

  Keven shrugged and pulled away. Cole scanned the area. He didn’t know her anymore. She wasn’t even Phoenyx, she was just Nyx, but if there was anything of her old self left, Cole would find it. The last time he’d seen her was just after the sun set. But Keven said she always stayed near the area. He slowly turned in circles. “Where are you, pretty bird?” he murmured without thinking.

  That pet name had taken on a whole new meaning now.

  She would have had to get someplace out of the sun and somewhere she could patch herself up so she wasn’t still attracting Garce. It was too far to walk back to the 25th street compound before the sun would have been up. So she had to be somewhere close.

  Giving up on his crappy logical deduction skills, he picked the nearest building that looked accessible without much of a fight and went to check it out.

  Of course she wasn’t in that one. Or the next one. Or the one after that, proving that he knew absolutely nothing about her anymore. So he picked the one that looked least likely to be her shelter for the day, and broke in.

  He was nearly blown to bits by a blood ball.

  He swore, diving backward, crashing into the boarded up window he’d just dug his way through. “It’s me, Phoenyx!”

  “Cole?” she gasped, and he could hear her moving, sliding, somewhere in the darkness beyond. Before the invasion, it had been someone’s home. Now it was nothing but torn furniture, broken picture frames, and scarred carpet. “What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” Each word sounded a little more terrifying than the one before. Cole eased his way into the hall and past the living room. This house had a lot more windows than the surrounding ones, which is why he had assumed she wouldn’t be in it. But she’d found darkness in the large walk-in pantry just off the kitchen.

  She looked like a wounded bird, her wing flopped over, cradling her arm, glaring at him fiercely as she tried to scramble to her feet. “Stay there. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

  “We both know that’s not true,” she snapped.

  “Phoenyx, I don’t—”

  “Call me Phoenyx again and I’ll blow off your right arm. Tried throwing a football with your left hand lately?”

  She’d always had a wicked wit.

  “Fine. Nyx. What happened?”

  She dropped her guard, leaning her head against the wall, surrounded by someone’s food storage. “I was stupid. That’s what happened.”

  He eased down next to her. “Care to elaborate?”

  She shook her head, wrapping her good wing around herself protectively. He wondered if she even realized she was doing it.

  “Okay… can I look at your wounds?”

  In addition to the elaborate tattoos, her eyelids were dark, dark blue. The same color as the blue streaks in her hair and her fingernails. Except… except he could see flecks of the brown she’d once had. Deep, deep within her eyes, she was still there.

  She shook her head again, and he sighed. “Fine, Nyx. Don’t talk to me. Be a stubborn brat. But when you’re on death’s door, you get to tell my sister that you wouldn’t let me help you.”

  She mouthed Enika’s name silently, and her eyes opened and slid sideways to look at him. He could picture her gathering all her pride, rolling it into a ball, and setting it aside as she sat up. “I can’t quite get my wing bandaged,” she muttered. “If you dare touch it, I would appreciate some help bandaging it.”

  “I’m not afraid of you,” he growled, standing up. “Have you seen a first aid kit?”

  “No. I haven’t had a lot of time to explore,” she said sarcastically. “And yes, you are. I saw your face when you realized what I was.”

  For the second time in as many minutes, he swore. His mama, if she were alive, would have given him the lecture of a lifetime, swearing in front of a girl. “I have been on the run for over a year, Phoe—Nyx. I saw wings. I felt cold. I panicked. Get over it.”

  Her eyebrows shot up, and a hint of a smile ghosted her lips. “Fine. I’m going to sleep. If anything attacks, wake me up.”

  “What about your wing?” he asked, digging through the shelves in the pantry. k'12

  “I don’t think it will wake me up. I’m pretty tired.”

  He couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not, but when he glanced down at her, she was curled in a ball, wrapped in her good wing while the injured one lay awkwardly across the floor. Her arm, that he hadn’t been able to see before, was wrapped in a towel.

  “We’ve got about ten hours until the sun goes down. You might want to think about taking a nap too,” she mumbled without opening her eyes.

  He watched her for several long minutes, trying to make his brain accept that this was the girl he’d loved more than anything for the last three years. He could see her, still, when she wasn’t angry and spitting fire.

  His Phoenyx was still there. He just had to find her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SHE’D LIED WHEN SHE SAID IT wouldn’t hurt her. But there wasn’t a snowball’s chance that she’d let him know it. He cleansed the tear in her wing and soaked it in an antiseptic cream — using almost the whole tube. Then he’d wrapped it, which took not one, not two, but three rolls of gauze. “Remember how you used to want to be a vet?” she murmured, her eyes closed tight like they could protect her. “Look at all the practice you’re getting now.”

  He snorted. “Funny.”

  She sat up, testing it carefully. Even waving it gently back and forth hurt. There would be no flying for her any time soon. “How bad was it?”

  He sat across from her, grabbing a box of cereal on his way down. He considered her wing while he popped little colored circles into his mouth. “Remember when you were trying to learn to skateboard?” he asked around a mouthful of food.

  She winced. “Yeah. Definitely remember that one.” Stupid skateboard. She’d never quite gotten the hang of it. Especially not after it broke her arm.

  “Well, it’s probably not as bad as that. It’s hard to tell, because the cartilage or whatever is the same color as the exterior of the wing, so I can’t quite tell what’s torn and what’s not.” Smiling that devastating smile she’d obsessed over ever since she escaped, he said, “I think you’ll live.”

  Her heart hurt. She wanted to scream at him, pound on his chest with her fists. She wanted to cry and ask him how he’d gotten over her so quickly, why he could forget about her, but she couldn’t forget about him. Nothing hurt worse than being forgotten by someone she couldn’t forget.

  Even after a year of running from the aliens, he was still beautiful. Short, messy brown hair. Big brown eyes. Dimples. He’d been a football player before. Captain of their high school team. He’d had his whole life planned out, and she’d been in it.

  Her smiled died and she looked away. Out of sight, out of mind, apparently. She wanted to cry.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she cried.

  “Nyx, what happened? After they took you, what happened?”

  She didn’t look at him. His voice was soft and cajoling, like he was trying to coax a dove out of a tree. He had no idea what those words did to her though. She pulled her knees up tight against her chest and then wrapped her wing around her. Safe. She was safe.

  “Phoenyx! Phoenyx, don’t let them take me!”

  “I’ll distract them. Get my little sister and get out of here. Do you hear me?”

  “Run, Pheonyx, Run!”

  She jerked herself out of her own h
ead. “I ran,” she snapped. He looked like he wanted to push it, so she narrowed her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He rolled his eyes skyward. “Clearly. Are you hungry? I’m going to find food.”

  “I don’t eat.”

  He froze, one foot in the sun, one in the shadows with her. She studied him, realizing an irony that he never would see. Because he was beautiful, and human, and alive, and he belonged in the sun. He did not belong in the darkness with her. “What do you mean you don’t eat?”

  His question startled her out of her thoughts. “I don’t eat. If I want to be immortal, I could drink the blood of the Garce. Since I have no desire whatsoever to live any longer than I have to, I don’t eat. And I age like a normal human.”

  He could only blink at her. “I don’t—I don’t—how is that even possible?”

  She shrugged. “It was one of their sales pitches, when they first landed. Remember? Stay beautiful, stay young, never have to eat or exercise again. So many women lost their lives because they wanted that life.”

  He slowly slid down across from her. So much of her screamed to touch him. To lay her head against his shoulder and hold his hand. To trace the scars up and down his arm from when he’d tried to learn to skateboard. It was Cole. The one thing in the entire world she thought was safe. Her reason for fighting, for escaping. “And you don’t want that?”

  She sighed, leaning her head back, watching the sun through the doorway. “No. Is it worth it? To be trapped in the darkness? To be hated and feared? Living forever and being beautiful… they weren’t what I wanted in life. I wanted to make a difference in the world, save the environment. Get married, grow old. Have a thousand cats and an old dog who slept on the bed. Animals won’t come near me, now.” She took a deep breath, pushing herself to her feet. “Luckily, the Garce seem to have eaten them all, so I have nothing to worry about, right?”

  Cole rose with her. He took her hand, pulling her back when she stupidly started for the doorway, to escape. She’d let him in, too much. “Hey.” He tugged her closer, so that she could see the black in his dark eyes. “You’re protecting the last group of people that I know to exist within any of the western states. You’re giving them life and hope. If that isn’t making a difference, I don’t know what is.”