Wings

by Sandra R Neeley

  “I figured.”

  Ruby eyed the bags. “What else do you have in there?”

  “Pies.”

  “And?”

  “More coffee.”

  Ruby stood and leaned over the table to bring the bags toward her. “Mine. All mine. You ate everything I saved for this morning.”

  Jaime chuckled. “Yes, I did. And they are all for you. No need to protect the bags from me. Pass me your eggs,” he said, holding his hand out.

  Ruby did not hesitate. She lifted the plate with the eggs and toast on it and handed it to Jaime. Then she pushed the hot cup of coffee toward him.

  Jaime started eating, shoving eggs onto a slice of toast and folding it over before taking a huge bite.

  Ruby started on another pie and cracked open another bottle of iced coffee.

  Jaime thrust his chin at the coffee she was drinking. “You not gonna share even one of those?”

  Ruby eyed him over the top of the bottle. “Why should I?”

  “Because you’re nice. And I went and bought them for you this morning.”

  “You also left marks all over me, like if we were in high school or something.”

  “Didn’t do that in high school.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Didn’t want anybody getting the wrong idea, thinking they were mine or something. Give me a coffee, woman!” he demanded, raising his voice.

  “Fine, but just one.” Ruby took a bottle out of the bag and handed it to him.

  Jaime tore the plastic seal, popped the top and guzzled some of it. “Damn, this stuff is addictive. I could get used to this. Sweet, but not too sweet, with a slight bitterness. Perfect.”

  Ruby didn’t answer, she just watched him as she devoured her third pie.

  “You like to eat, don’t you?”

  “Is that a problem?” she asked around a mouthful.

  “Nope. Not at all. I like it.”

  “Wonderful,” she mumbled.

  Jaime laughed, while he stood up from the table. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

  “No you won’t,” she shot back, forgetting they had an audience. “We said only last night, no tomorrow.”

  “No we didn’t. We said tomorrow would take care of itself.”

  “Then what do you call all this?” she demanded, waving her hand around indicating themselves and the table they sat at.

  “Breakfast. And tomorrow taking care of itself,” he answered, strolling casually toward the front door of the diner.

  He got almost all the way to the door and turned around pinning her with a commanding look. “Do not go back to the rock formations alone today. I know we were watched last night. If you want to do some hiking, come out to my place. There are some shallow caves there that’ll be safe for you to check out.”

  Ruby glared at him, and bit off another huge bite of her pie.

  He started to turn back to the door and stopped, turning to face her. “Those marks. They’re so nobody touches you but me while you’re here.”

  Stunned that he’d say such a thing, considering that before their night of good fun and sex, he’d seemed barely tolerant of her. She just watched him, speechless. This was not the no strings, nothing more than tonight she’d expected. “Excuse me?” she asked.

  “I don’t share.” He waved his hand back and forth between them. “This may not be anything more than now, but I don’t share for even that short period of time.” He pointed at her, moving his finger up and down her body. “My marks. While you’re here — mine. You don’t want anybody, fine. But if you’re wanting, it’s me you’ll be having. That’s my plan.”

  “Sounds more like a goal to me,” Ruby said.

  “Same thing,” Jaime snarked.

  “A plan is to reach a goal; they are not the same thing,” Ruby explained.

  “See it, do it. Same thing,” Jaime answered. Jaime looked around the diner, the patrons all eagerly watching the show. Then he called over his shoulder as he pushed the door opened and walked through it. “Eggs was good, Aunt Mildred.”

  Ruby sat there, stunned. Her half-eaten pie held out in front of her. Her not-yet-finished iced coffee on the table in front of her, watching the door the biggest ass she’d ever met had just marched through.

  Clarence was turned around in his seat, watching with everyone else. When Jaime declared his marks on her meant his and the fact that he wasn’t sharing, Clarence chuckled. “Hot damn! It’s happening!”

  Ruby pushed her pie away from her and picked up the iced coffee, sipping it thoughtfully. She looked over at Clarence. “What’s happening?” she grumbled.

  “The proph…” he started.

  “Shut it, Clarence!” Mildred snapped. “Nothing’s going on. Other than Jaime finally finding someone he wants to spend more than a couple of hours with.”

  Ruby watched Mildred as she came across the small diner, speaking as she came.

  “Here, hand me his plate. Take your pies and your coffee and put them in your room. If you want directions to Jaime’s place, I’ll give them to you. And if you don’t that’s fine, too. But don’t head back out toward the rock formations. If he says you were being watched, you were being watched.”

  Ruby was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. “Are there bats out near his place?”

  “Yeah. There are. Closer than you think.”

  “Fine. Tell me how to get to those caves,” Ruby said.

  <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

  Jaime drove his truck toward his auto repair shop, shaking his head at his own behavior. “The fuck is wrong with me?”

  He reached over and spun the knob on the radio, clicking it on. The strains of Witchy Woman by the Eagles poured from his old, crackly speakers. “Damn woman, got to be a witch,” he muttered.

  He shook his head again, lifting his hands palm up where they were resting on the steering wheel as though he was speaking to someone other than himself, as he drove. “I brought her pies. And coffee! Who the hell does something like that?” he asked his empty truck. “I sure as hell don’t,” he answered. “One night. Just one night of fucking. That’s all the hell it was supposed to be. That’s all she asked for, for God’s sake! What the hell am I doing out buying fucking pies and fancy iced coffee?”

  He caught sight of his own eyes in the rear view mirror. “You’re a dumb ass!” he snapped at himself.

  He pulled into the parking lot of his repair shop and pulled his truck to the side of the building, out of the way of anyone who may come in for servicing today. His was the only mechanic shop in town, and he did a pretty steady business. As it was, he had three vehicles waiting for his attention already. He walked over to the one he’d started on yesterday and lifted the hood. He walked over to the old radio sitting on the outdoor shelf and cranked it up. He started working, losing himself in the mechanics of the vehicle and doing everything he could to keep his mind off the woman that had managed to get under his skin despite his conscious decision to not let her. He worked for a solid hour, not taking a break. He got in the truck, turned the ignition and smiled when it purred to life. “And another one is mastered,” he muttered.

  He threw the truck in gear and backed it up to angle it to the highway. Jaime pulled the door closed and aimed it away from town, flooring it to see just how responsive it was. It took off, dirt and gravel flying, engine growling.

  “Like a bat out of hell!” he laughed as it flew along the blacktop of the old two lane highway. He chuckled at his analogy. He sped down the road for a few more minutes, then slowed enough to execute a U-turn and headed back to his place. He parked the truck out of the way and got in another vehicle. A car this time and pulled it up front and center to be worked on next.

  As he opened the door to climb out of the car, his nose brushed his arm where it held onto the opened window. He closed his eyes, running his nose along his arm again. “Damn, she smells so fucking good,” he mumbled. He inhale
d deeply, taking Ruby’s scent still clinging to his arm into his body.

  He thought of her, of all the things he’d said to her. He hadn’t planned to do anything but leave the coffee and pies at the front counter with Mildred for her. But when he’d seen her sitting alone at her table, he’d lost all control. He’d had to speak to her. And when she’d baited him into a confrontation, she’d looked so damn sexy, he couldn’t help but confront her right back.

  He ran his hand down his face. “Can’t fucking believe I told her I don’t share and she’s mine while she’s here.” He shook his head. “Damn,” he said under his breath.

  Just then the sound of a vehicle on the highway caught his attention. He looked up, watching the highway, waiting for the vehicle to come into view. “I knew it,” he mumbled as a tan Jeep Cherokee went flying by.

  “She drives too damn fast,” he mumbled. But at least she’d done what he asked and come to his side of town to go bat hunting, instead of back to the rock formations they’d been at last night. “Stubborn woman,” he mumbled, raising the hood of the car and ducking underneath it to get started. Your stubborn woman, his subconscious whispered in the back of his mind. He often paid attention to his subconscious. It’d kept him out of some serious scrapes. But not about this. Not today.

  “Be better when she’s gone. She doesn't belong here. Doesn’t belong to me. Needs to go!” he shouted into the wind.

  We need her, his subconscious whispered.

  Jaime shook his head. “No the fuck we don’t. Nothing but heartache there. That one don’t want us any more than we want her,” he muttered aloud. He was lying to himself and he knew it. One minute he wanted to run her away from him, the next he wanted to hunt her down and claim her like an animal. And in between he wanted to drop to his knees and beg her to love him. To give him a chance and he’d make her happy forever.

  Chapter 7

  32 years prior

  Rufussian was Most High Prime of their people. Absolute tyrant to any who found themselves under his rule and tolerant of none. He regarded any who questioned his ways with disgust. Which meant those in his crosshairs faced annihilation. Even his own daughter, and especially the man she’d chosen for mate. Their children were just as worthless as she. Thankfully, one of them at least had been acceptable. That one he’d taken for his own and cast the others away. That one was Tyrisey. Tyrisey was meant for great things. He’d known it from the moment the tiny newborn had grasped his hand with its tiny claws and bitten his hand when he’d attempted to cast it into the pit with its parents. He’d looked down on the pitiful little creature and seen strength in its eyes, blood lust in its heart. “Perhaps you should live a little longer. Wouldst thou disappoint me as well?” he’d asked the tiny, vicious bat clawing at his hand.

  In response, Tyrisey had hissed at him and bitten him again.

  Rufussian had laughed — the laugh of the insane. “Come along then. Perhaps it will be you who leads our people forth.” Rufussian looked down at the hissing, winged creature crouching in his palm. “It is not your fault your parents are worthless and weak. Polluting my bloodline with such an insipidly deficient species as human.”

  Rufussian had taken the young whelp to the nursemaids of his colony. He’d thrust the young male at them. “This is Malenia’s whelp. The only one worth the breath it breathes. See to it that it survives. He shall learn all that I know, all that I am, and move our people seamlessly forward, when I am done for.”

  “Yes, Prime,” the young females had answered almost in unison.

  As he’d tried to hand the whelp over, he’d hissed and slashed at him again. Rufussian grinned, yes, this vicious one may be exactly what he’d waited on for years and years. Malenia may have outdone herself despite her attempts to disappoint him at every turn.

  He walked away nodding his own head at agreement with himself of his actions. They’d deserved to die. She’d deserved to die especially. He could have cast her out, her and her human mate. But he’d needed to make an example of her to their people. His own daughter had betrayed him with one of the humans he’d made every attempt to distance his people from. It couldn’t be allowed. Couldn’t be ignored. She’d been as weak as her mother. His brow wrinkled — at least he thought she was. He couldn’t quite remember which of his wives was her mother.

  Rufussian waved his hand about, no matter, they were mostly dead now as well. His people were dying off. The youth didn’t live as long as those of his generation, and loyalty was hard found. Fewer and fewer returned to their colony after feeding. He’d decided that his people were better off without them, until he’d realized how many he was losing. So he’d made a law. They would no longer be allowed to interact with the humans. Most of his people had taken it at face value, and knowing that his punishment knew no limits, cut off all contact with the tiny town and its inhabitants immediately. Those that hadn’t and had continued their dealing with town had seen their families executed when they broke his laws. And if they had no families, their friends were executed. Which led to a very fine system in his opinion. Friends not wanting to be executed, either turned in those who thought to disobey him or even just strayed too close to the humans and in effect put them in danger.

  It also resulted in very few of his people having friends. They kept to themselves and offered loyalty to none but Rufussian.

  Rufussian’s mind wandered to the prophecies his people led their lives by. They used them as a religion of sorts. They dated back to the times of ancient Egypt. The oracles had whispered guidance and warnings into the ears of his ancestors, helping guide his people through the ages and to the time they now found themselves in. They’d recorded the words of the oracles, the prophecies, and assembled them all by hand to be passed down through the hands of the most high, most deserving of his species, the Prime of each in his family, until finally they arrived in his hands. Rufussian Ramses Tyrise XXI. This was his reign, and he’d be damned if his species would fall under his watch. Only he had access to the words that guided his people. Those words would be interpreted by him, and his people advised by him, of the prophecies. And therein lay his power, his legacy.

  A little more than a year before, he’d rediscovered a prophecy that he’d always only scanned over in the past. Its words never made any sense to him. Until today. Today, he’d looked on his daughter and her twin sons and that prophecy had rung in his ears. He’d reacted with a rage even he had never known the likes of.

  These boys, one like him, and one human, would be the end of his people — of his reign. It said so in the prophecy. And why? Because his disappointment of a daughter refused to follow the laws he’d laid out, and fraternized with the humans in the town nearby. And she’d become pregnant. She’d come to him with her mate and sons in an effort to win him over. They even named the little bastards after him — one was called Rufus and the other Tyrisey. In a fit of rage he’d beaten them both to unconsciousness. Then he’d instructed his most trusted servants to dig a secret pit on the edge of their catacombs, and he’d thrown the male’s semi-lifeless body into that pit. Then he threw his daughter and her whelps in after. But one of the whelps had clung to him, biting him and hissing. That one had been the one he’d kept. Then he’d had the pit quickly sealed with the loose rock and dirt they’d excavated when digging it. He smiled at the male Tyrisey had become. That one would serve him well, the one with a soul as cold and unfeeling as his own. If the whelp didn’t get himself killed before then, he would become Prime.

  <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

  Present day

  Tyrisey stalked the smoothly hewn corridors of the underworld he called home in answer to being summoned by Rufussian, Most High Prime of the Chireop People. Most avoided Tyrisey. He was volatile with a quick temper and showed mercy for very few. He resented almost everything about his life, himself included. And he resented his grandfather. His grandfather was Rufussian. He’d raised him in his shadow, to take his place as Most High Prime of their people. And that he had no prob
lem with, in fact, he felt he more than deserved it. He would gladly take his place and build his people into the strong nation they once were when the old bastard was dead. What he resented was the solitude. The constant quiet, broken only by the whispers of those too afraid to speak on their way to carry out whatever duty was theirs in the colony. And the dark. He hated the dark. He’d often sneak outside to bask in the sunshine. The warmth and brightness drew him to the surface many days as a boy. He’d threatened the lives of several when they discovered him, standing in the open tunnel that led from the desert above to their caves. All it took was the death of one or two, and his people quickly learned to forget they ever saw him there.

  Tyrisey glanced toward an open doorway and noticed a young female, smiling up at a male who reached out to caress her face.

  Tyrisey lifted his lip and snarled at the two, who quickly scurried from his line of vision. It wasn’t that he cared about the female or who caressed her. He was lonely. Any display of affection to anyone was an extremely painful reminder to him, that he’d never been wanted in any way, much less loved. His own mother and father had cast him away and returned to the human world to raise his brother in love and warmth, leaving him behind with his heartless grandfather to whither and die, or grow cold and uncaring and survive to be as ruthless as Rufussian was. Tyrisey smiled — or more ruthless. Fuck them, he thought. Don’t need them. They will suffer one day soon, and at my hand.

  He came to a stop outside the private dwelling of the Most High Prime. And scraped his claws on the stone outside the entrance. “Sire, I am here as you requested.”

  From inside the dwelling came his answer. “I did not request. I summoned.”

  “Yes, Sire. And I answered. How shall I be of service?” Tyrisey answered.

  “I wish to speak with you of prophecies. Come. We shall read them together.”