Dust of My Wings

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  All humans were diluted forms of supernaturals. For millennia, the supernaturals had bred with one another and mixed the species until, finally, their powers had dwindled in most, and they stopped believing in things that came out of fairy tales. Those with so little non-human blood running their veins that they seemed ordinary were now called humans, although each had at least something beyond human lying dormant in their DNA.

  Council did not identify the name of the human who collected the dust, but Ambrose told Shade it was about to be in the hands of a woman who lived and worked nearby. Her name was Lily.

  Who was this Lily? Shade wanted to get a look at her. She had the answers. She possessed the reason behind his shame: his blue dust.

  A woman with expressive emerald-green eyes passed by the window; a slight smile graced her face, and she had those side-swoopy bangs women loved so much. She was of average height and held delicious curves. He looked over every inch of her—a small waist, large, perfect breasts to fit his palms, slightly wide hips that would serve well when he gripped them, and sexy legs beneath the hem of her brown coat…

  Lily.

  That had to be her. He didn’t know how he knew, but he was sure of it.

  His groin tightened.

  She was human. Not a lick of anything else came from her. Yet, why did he want her so from just a look? He’d never looked at a human this way before. Why now? Was it because she might be the one who held his dust?

  Lily stopped under the awning right in front of the window, careful of where she stepped—odd—and brushed the hair out of her eyes, before smiling at a passerby. She was radiant. Absolutely gorgeous. Shade held back a groan and shifted uncomfortably in his seat when she bit into her lip. She smiled again then walked to what must have been her car, got in, and left before Shade even thought to stand.

  Some warrior he was, completely frozen in shock by his reaction to her. He was, however, unrepentant. He didn’t want to follow her today anyway. A town small as this would know of Lily and aide him in his research. If the supernaturals were revealed, chaos would rain. Humans could feel threatened, start wars, do untold atrocities when they met with what they didn’t know and therefore feared. If the supernaturals felt threatened…Shade didn’t want to think about that. He had to know more before he did anything.

  So many questions flashed through his mind. Who was she? Why did she have his dust? What would she do if she discovered his secret?

  Most importantly, he wondered if she was single and how she would look underneath him, blushing in ecstasy.

  Shade shook his head, dispelling those annoying thoughts. He’d find out what he needed to about Lily, get his dust, and save the entirety of the supernatural world. Maybe along the way he’d learn a little more about a pretty brunette whose very presence threatened to make his wings stretch to the sky.

  Yep. Easy for a warrior angel such as himself.

  Chapter 2

  Lily Banner hated her job. Hated it. There was nothing worse than being on the bottom of the totem pole and knowing there was nowhere to go but down. Was that even possible?

  She blew her bangs from her face in frustration. It was late in the day, way past her usual time off. She desperately wanted to go home, but work was never ending. Every day seemed to drag a little bit more of her soul out of her body. God, she hated her job, and it wasn’t as if the work she did meant anything. She had a chemistry degree, but she didn’t do anything with it. Not being at the top of the class, she really couldn’t have gone on to graduate school and made anything of herself. Frankly, she had no interest in pursuing higher education. School had been a chore, and it made her feel like she was nothing. So, now she was just a lab tech at a soils testing lab for a company she hated. For a boss she hated.

  Oh, yeah. For a man. Lily rolled her eyes and held back a snort. Why on earth had she changed her life for a man, particularly for a man like Bryce? Wasn’t she supposed to be a strong new age woman? Apparently, not so much.

  Bryce, her ex-fiancé, was a cheating asshat. He now lived with Miss Fake Boobs and their three bratty kids.

  Lily sighed. Whatever. She was over the whole thing. She really was.

  She straightened the stack of folders on her desk for the third time. They just couldn’t get straight enough. Though the lab was clean, it still didn’t feel clean enough for her. Still, she organized everything on her desk at precise angles, and there wasn’t a lick of dust on any surface around her. That was workable.

  Her entire system had been blown several days before. It still irked her.

  “Lily, I have something for you.” Her boss, Glenn, had strode to her desk, his permanent smirk on his face. At the age of forty-three, his body looked a decade older with thinning hair and an increasing waist. He always smelled of sweat and greasy burritos.

  He wanted her and wasn’t afraid to make it known.

  She’d held back a shudder as she always had at the errant thought of those greasy hands groping her.

  Not in this lifetime. Or the next.

  “Do a run on this.” He’d thrown a sealed, clear pack containing a vile on her desk.

  She’d winced as it hit the wood hardtop, leaving a line she’d have to clean later. The plastic knocked her stack of papers askew, and she quickly picked up the package and ordered her desk again. God, how she hated that man. About as much as she hated messes.

  “Sure, I can do that. What type do you want on it?” She’d picked it up and peered through the plastic. The vials contained some kind of blue dust, but she couldn’t really determine anymore than that just from a site analysis. “Do you want a liquid or solid?”

  “Don’t alter it. No liquid, just a solid.”

  Lily had nodded. That made sense. If they didn’t know what it was, there was no use trying to dissolve the sample in a solvent and cause a reaction, because, if she tried to do that, it might destroy it or cause an explosion. “I’ll do a proton and maybe a carbon on it then. The 400 will be open soon once I spin down the current sample, and I can to the proton first.” The proton NMR was the easiest one to do and would help identify what was in it.

  Glenn had waved away her words. “Fine, fine. Whatever. Just get it done. ASAP.” He turned on his heel and walked away without another word.

  The nerve of the guy. Didn’t he know it wasn’t a simple plug and chug system? That she had to go through tons of work before she could even set up the probe? Then when she got the results, she had to go through the analysis to see if the peaks could tell her something about the composition of the sample and what exactly was in it. Lily shook her head. Of course he didn’t know. When was the last time he’d done anything concerning chemistry?

  Regular work, however, had taken precedence, and now, several days later, Lily was finally getting around to analyzing the substance. That is, if she had time before she had to leave.

  She grabbed the package and walked to the lab. She opened it and took out the vial then went about cataloguing it into the system. Now that she could get a closer look, she held it to her eyes. Were those flecks of silver and black in the blue? What the heck was this stuff? It didn’t look like chalk and there wasn’t much out there in terms of silicates and ceramics that were naturally blue. Maybe it was a synthetic. That would make her job that much harder since it then would be a man-made substance and really difficult to figure out.

  She shrugged. No use in worrying too much about it now. She spun down the sample currently in the NMR, saved the data to the backup hard drive, and shut down the system. With a quick look at the clock, she cursed because she was running late. Well, late for her. She still had time, but she always liked to be early. She walked back to her desk and locked the new sample in her desk. Any work would have to wait until tomorrow, or else she knew she’d be stuck in the lab until after midnight for sure. She’d just get it done tomorrow.

  Lily blew the hair from her eyes and bit her lip. She hated putting things off for the next day again, but there wasn’t really
a choice. Glenn wanted things done immediately. He didn’t understand that each run took hours. She wanted to leave now, but she still had a couple more things to do. With a sigh, she sat back down at her desk and re-opened a program file she’d been working on and began an analysis of a previous sample. It seemed never ending.

  At twenty-seven, she’d never thought she’d be where she was. She always thought she’d be married with children at this point in her life, but that wasn’t a possibility considering she couldn’t remember the last time she had a date. She wasn’t ugly; she knew that, but, apparently, she wasn’t suited to anyone’s taste. Her medium-length, chestnut brown-hair had natural highlights, and she’d just trimmed the swoopy bangs she loved so much. Her pale skin didn’t have many freckles since she was such a homebody. As a kid, she’d been afraid of sunburns. She wasn’t skinny, but she wasn’t overweight either. Just a nice average woman with curves.

  That was what she was. Average. Average looks, average intelligence and an average life. She wanted something more. Something, anything, to fight back the loneliness. Sure, she had a family, if you could call it that. There was a dad she never talked to and who was on a second honeymoon with his fourth wife. He said he was trying to rekindle the magic, but everyone involved knew it was only a matter of time before that faded away and he found Mrs. Number Five. She had a mom who was more passive-aggressive than the mom from the television sitcom Everybody Loves Raymond. She liked to belittle Lily and her choices every time she had a chance. But, other than that, Lily was alone.

  No, that wasn’t true. She had her non-blood family: her six girlfriends. They were her family of choice. They were seven women of different ages and professions who came together at least once a week to celebrate their lives, even if sometimes there didn’t seem to be much to celebrate. They’d all met at their favorite bar, Dante’s Circle, over the years and ended up being best friends. In fact, she was meeting them tonight, so she had to get moving.

  “Hey, Lily, why are you still here?” Thad, the other lab tech on her floor, came up and hitched a hip on her desk. She held her breath but didn’t say anything as he moved her pens. His eyes widened, and he moved back then straightened them.

  “Sorry about that. I know how you get,” he teased.

  She flushed and shook her head. “It’s fine. Really. I hate being a dork.”

  “You’re not a dork. You just like order. Nothing wrong with that.” He smiled, and his face lit up as if he wanted something.

  Oh, no.

  “So, Lily, you want to go grab a bite to eat tonight?”

  She looked up at the younger man and tried not to groan. His dishwater-brown hair fell in his eyes like those skater boys, and he still hadn’t filled out his lanky body with muscle. He was only working here before he went off to graduate school. At twenty-one, he still had his life ahead of him. She felt old and worn out, and not at all interested in a romantic relationship with him.

  “Sorry, Thad, I can’t. I’m meeting the girls for drinks, but thanks anyway. Maybe another time.” Or never.

  Disappointment filled his eyes, but he kept a smile on his face.

  Oh, God, I’ve just kicked a puppy.

  “It’s okay. I understand. Well, I’m on my way out. Make sure you don’t stay too late. I don’t like you being here all alone. Do you want me to wait for you and walk you to your car?”

  He was just so cute. In that ‘little brother’ way.

  Lily shook her head. “I won’t be long, so you don’t need to wait for me. I’ll be fine. I promise. I have my whistle and pepper spray.” The town was relatively safe, but it never hurt to be prepared.

  Thad grinned and tilted his head. “Okay, then. If you don’t really need me. Good night, and be safe. Have fun with the girls.”

  “Thanks. Have a good night.”

  With a wave, he walked out, and Lily shook her head. He really was kind of cute, but not for her, and way too young.

  Lily glanced at the clock again. Okay, she had about twenty minutes before she really had to go. She didn’t have time to go home to change, so what she had on would have to suffice. It was just a drink with the girls. Something she desperately needed.

  Her fingers flying across the keyboard, she worked at fitting peaks and labeling what she could. Before she knew it, her twenty minutes were up, and her head hurt. She really needed that drink. Sighing, she shut down her computer and packed up her purse. She straightened everything one last time and made sure her drawers were locked. With one last thought to that odd blue dust—if not tomorrow, then Monday, for sure—she shrugged and walked to her car.

  Outside the wind howled and rain began to fall as thunder rumbled in the distance. Oh, great, a storm. She brushed her bangs out of her face. Should she just go home? Was being out tonight worth the aggravation? Her back ached and her head throbbed, and a bubble bath sounded divine. But, after her lonely thoughts during the day, she really needed to be with her friends. Decision made, she ran through the rain and unlocked her car door. Once inside, she shivered and turned the car and heater on to warm herself.

  Yep. She really needed that drink…and maybe a dark, handsome stranger.

  A giggle escaped, and she shook her head. Well, maybe just that drink.

  ****

  Striker paced in his room. Shade had been gone for two days after the human woman. The warrior hadn’t reached the council for updates or help as of yet, and Striker was getting annoyed.

  With a huff, he turned again, his brown wings dragging on the floor. He hated the damn things. They were boring. Average. Angels of every caliber had better-looking wings than him, but he at least held the power where most didn’t. Other than his fellow council members, he was in charge, and if enough things went his way, and if his plan stayed on track, then he would be above the other members soon.

  That thought brought an ease in his shoulders, and the tension he’d held since the dark warrior angel had walked into the council chambers faded away. He hated being relegated to a group of leaders. He wanted all the power. He wanted to rise above his average looks and reign supreme, and he would.

  He’d been close—so close—before. Once, long ago, during the Angelic Wars. He’d led his armies and reveled in it, though that part of his past remained in secrecy. He couldn’t let the other angels know that he’d been the masked angel behind the greatest army that spread fear and instigated rebellion. No, that wouldn’t do at all. The current council—sans him—had fought and used their warrior angels to bring down Striker’s army. But that had been a calculated move on his part; at least that’s what he told himself. He let his second-in-command take the fall. The other angel had lost his wings—and his head—for the act.

  Striker shrugged. At least it hadn’t been him. This time, instead of an all-out war of opposing forces, he’d take over from the inside. The other council members were old, unaccustomed to fighting in these times of peace. Even though angels were immortal, age did matter. As time passed, they became stuck in their ways and refused to embrace new things. With their experience came selfishness and haughtiness. They were the easy ones to mold and bend to his will.

  It was the warriors who created the problem for him. Shade and Ambrose, in particular. Ambrose was older than he was and would be hard to take down. Angels’ powers increased as they aged, a fact that pissed Striker off to no end. No matter how far he progressed, the bastard went even farther. Ambrose did have one large weakness—his protégé and best friend, Shade. Luckily, Shade had a more immediate problem involving his dust. Shade needed to clean up his mess or risk exposing the supernatural. If he were to fail, then the warrior would lose his wings, and he’d be out of Striker’s way when the time came. If Striker worked it right, then Ambrose’s need to help his friend would lead to his downfall, as well.

  Striker laughed and wrung his hands. Yes. This would all work. It had to work. He just had to make sure the human woman figured out something was wrong with the dust, and exposed everything that was
hidden. Striker would rule them all with an iron fist one way or another, but would she find it fast enough? He might have to intervene. That was what he did best. After all, he was the one who’d given the greasy human male, the woman’s boss, the dust in the first place.

  Once the warriors failed, Striker would have his opening, and he’d finally get what he deserved after he lost it in the Angelic Wars. Power.

  Chapter 3

  Lightning sparked the night sky, and a heavy wind shook Lily’s car as she drove to the bar after she went home to change. She hadn’t planned on stopping to change what she was wearing, but she’d been soaked to the bone. After finding a cute top, pants, and calf-boots at home, and of course making sure everything was tidy, she’d scrambled back to her car and hurried to the bar. Cleaning up hadn’t been for something like bringing a man back or anything. Lily snorted. She might be lonely, but not that lonely. Now she was running late. She hated running late.

  Her windshield wipers slapped against the glass, and she squinted to see. The rain came down in sheets, but the town had enough streetlights that it was safe enough to drive at night. Her house was located in the lower middle class area of town that merged with the not-so-nice area where Dante’s Circle was about five minutes away.

  She loved the city. It was a smaller one, but not so small that everyone knew everyone else’s business, but not so big that she felt lost in the shuffle, even though sometimes she felt just that. Luckily, she had her friends to help her.

  She pulled up to the bar and parked under the awning that Dante had added a few years before to keep everyone dry. Since it always seemed to rain in their town, it was needed. She noticed that her friends’ cars were already there.

  Darn it. Her chest tightened as anxiety filled her. Being late wasn’t like her. Early was on time; being on time was late. Showing up over forty-five minutes late was painful. She turned off the car and grabbed her purse and her phone.