The Weight of a Wing (The Stolen Wings Book 1)

by Ioana Visan

  “Hmm… So do I,” Rafe said after a moment of thinking. “I’d rather fight ten monsters.”

  Getting the fruits would be a hell of a lot easier and considerably less painful, but she refrained from openly agreeing with Rafe. He was way too full of himself already. There was no need to add to that. Coming to a silent agreement, they headed to the market.

  The rich smells and colors managed to cheer her up some. They walked between the stalls in the outdoor market, checking the merchandise. They had time, as it was too early for dinner.

  “How about this one, honey?” Rafe held up a giant watermelon that had to weigh about fifteen kilos. “No? We could eat from it for a week.” He grinned and put it back in the pile.

  Show off. She stopped to look at some strawberries.

  “Oh, strawberries. Good idea. Could we get some whipped cream, too?”

  “Cassie’s allergic to strawberries.”

  Rafe shrugged and moved along. “So, what does Cassie like?”

  “She likes them all mixed up together. She’s adventurous like that.”

  “I wonder where she learned that,” he muttered, grabbing a large paper bag, and tossing in whatever he got his hands on.

  Rafe was debating between white and red grapes when the first gulping noise occurred. It came from the sink attached to the side of the stall. Instead of water, muddy liquid poured from the faucet. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it hadn’t been for the distinctive cinnamon scent. The sink was filling rapidly, making small drops fall over the edges and splatter on the ground, leaving round, burning patches.

  “Rafe…”

  “In a second.” Rafe chewed on a cherry then picked another one. “Mmm, sweet…”

  “Rafe!”

  “What? It’s just a little muddy monster. Nothing to worry about.”

  True. It would take several minutes for a pool to form on the pavement, and it didn’t look like it was going to turn into something else. “Rafe, there are people here,” Alise hissed. People who didn’t know any better and risked walking home barefoot.

  “Ah, you’re such a killjoy,” Rafe groaned, but stepped away from the fruit. He thrust the bag in Alise’s arms. Placing his hands on his hips, he frowned at the infested sink. “Hmm…”

  He glanced around, but people didn’t seem to be looking, so he pulled out the blade and sliced off the faucet. Mud continued to gush out of the pipe. “Damn.” He barely finished the word when a head with the face of a dog and the mouth of an alligator formed from the stirring mud. Opening a big mouth with sharp teeth, it bit into his forearm. “Son of a…!” Rafe struggled to free his arm. His blade didn’t help. Each time he tried to sever the monster’s neck, it passed right through it without causing any harm. “Crap!”

  Yes, it does look like crap.

  “Hold this.” He held out his blade.

  She held it with two fingers and kept it away from her body, making a face as if she was disgusted to touch such an item.

  Rafe shoved his hand right into the belly of the beast, looking to unplug the sink. With one arm torn by the sharp teeth and the other boiling, he managed to grab the plug and remove it. The monster went quietly down the drain, and clear water was soon flowing again.

  “Happy now?” He showed her his bloody hands before washing them in the sink.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll drive,” Alise told him.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “Honey, we’re home!” Rafe called in a sing-song voice when they entered the apartment. His shirt was stained, but his arms were clean after having healed himself in the car.

  Alise slipped around him and propped her hand against the cabinet next to the door. While she untied her sandals, she lifted each leg, hobbling in the corner of the entryway.

  “Oh, good!” Cassie yelled from the kitchen. “The dinner will take a little while longer!”

  “Great!” Rafe walked into the kitchen and dropped the fruit onto the counter. Then he stole a few crackers. “I’ll be in the shower!” He winked and carefully closed the door. Back in the corridor, he got distracted by the way Alise’s body was bent as she struggled to undo the many hooks of her sandals.

  “What’s she making?” Alise asked, her head still down at knee level.

  “No idea, but Vale was scared when he left.”

  “That’s why it takes him so long to return?” While she didn’t look up, the sarcasm was clear in her voice.

  Rafe had no answer prepared. Vale wasn’t going to return until he found some answers, possibly from Nate, if he could get to that particular troublemaker without raising suspicion. At least that was the plan, so he crossed the corridor, whistling to himself, and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, more than enough time for a decent shower, Alise knocked on the door, asking for her turn. Bickering and minor threats managed to drag him out.

  Sometime after that, she walked into her room, rubbing hand lotion into her skin because she liked the way it smelled, not for its therapeutic effects. Rafe sat on the edge of her bed, shirt undone and hands resting upon his knees. He gazed at her, making her feel self-conscious of the way she looked, from the pinned up hair with wet tendrils falling down her neck, to the white kimono with hand-painted cherry flowers all over the silk, to her bare feet.

  “I didn’t know human soap was supposed to be acidic, or did you make it like that on purpose?” He feigned a smile that came out more pained than amused and held up his hands. Both were covered in blotches going up his arms and into the sleeves of his new shirt.

  Where had he gotten that shirt? The wounds weren’t new. They had simply reappeared at the contact with the water. Tricky bugger … That muddy monster hadn’t been as harmless as it had seemed.

  “Don’t be silly,” she muttered. “I would have been more creative than that.” She could have had his drink poisoned. The word was that Guardians were incredibly funny when intoxicated, although not many people had lived to see it happen, and the recent experience with Vale told her that might not be true. Or she could have had his blades turn sideways, which would have annoyed him to no end since the blades were more precious to the Guardians than their own children, assuming they ever had any, which they didn’t. But, of course, she couldn’t do either anymore. It was nice to dream about it, though.

  Moving closer, she placed her small hands on top of his. Grayish vines circled her wrists, trembling at the surface of her pale skin.

  “No, stop…” Rafe shook his head and tried to push her away.

  Alise grasped at his hands. “Don’t.” Maybe if she lost all of her magic, she wouldn’t go insane that fast. Maybe they could both gain something from this. At the same time, part of her was painfully aware she needed his touch. She needed his magic. The poison was eating her from the inside out.

  The healing process took its time, and she didn’t let go until any signs of wounds were completely gone. This time, it would hold. Healing stones dealt with basic healing. They couldn’t adjust to special cases, but she could.

  Rafe’s piercing stare fixed on her face. She grimaced, thinking about the way she looked. Her golden tan was fading, leaving her complexion ashen. Her eyes were losing color, becoming translucent, and reddish streaks that weren’t normally there had appeared in her dark hair. She felt the changes just like she felt the vines constricting and struggling to survive. Unable to hold Rafe’s gaze, she released his hands and lowered her eyes, preparing to step back.

  It didn’t come as a surprise when he reached for the lapels of her kimono and pulled her towards him. Faces inches apart, they stared into each other’s eyes for a long, peaceful moment. There was no tension, no quickening of heartbeats, no blood rush. There was only acknowledgment of what was about to happen next, what needed to be done. Her craving for magic had increased tenfold just by looking at him, and even if she wanted to stop him, she wasn’t able to. Her body had a mind of its own.

  The k
iss came naturally at this point. Rafe initiated it, but Alise followed his lead, tilting her head while their breath mingled. The magic drew her in, she could not deny it, but he wasn’t forcing her. He let her take what she needed from him without imposing his will on her. He might have if she tried to resist, but she had no intention of doing that.

  Alise didn’t protest when Rafe’s hands trailed up the kimono to cup the sides of her face. She boldly moved forward to straddle him, her knees resting on either side of him. Her body arched as his hands traced the lines of her back, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Crawling inside his skin was not an option, but she would get as close as she could. She pushed his shirt out of the way because she needed to feel his warm skin underneath her palms. The contact soothed her, and while some parts of her brain cleared, others got fuzzy in a different way. Had it been the human factor that she had been missing? She had been alone for such a long time, not trusting anyone since Gorem had scarred her for life.

  But life was short, especially for Fairies without wings. She needed to make the most of it. She closed her eyes, determined to enjoy it while it lasted. Slowly, her focus switched from the magic to the Guardian who moved her around and laid her on the bed. When she opened her eyes again, Rafe was on top of her.

  Lit up by the sun setting outside the window, the hair that had fallen on his forehead looked like a halo of liquid gold. Underneath it, his eyes shone. “Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice.

  Alise nodded. She did feel better. The pain would come later when the poison and the magic clashed. He had fed her craving, holding nothing back, and now she felt more balanced, more grounded. And this had nothing to do with the mountain of flesh pinning her down … or maybe it did. She couldn’t tell. But once his job was done, she expected him to pull back. It would be the sensible thing for a Guardian to do.

  Instead, Rafe leaned to one side so as not to crush her and pulled on the silk that kept her hidden from his sight. With gentle moves, he opened the kimono, unveiling the angle of a shoulder, the curve of a breast, her ribcage, her waist, a hip… Alise held back a breath.

  The poison had left her body horribly marred. The skin remained smooth, but a dark area spread on her right side, and the vines growing from it had increased in size compared to the first time she had seen them. The vines had passed over her ribs in both the front and back, and the one going down her hip had reached her mid-thigh. They weren’t going to stop there.

  Rafe’s fingers gently traced the vines. Her skin had become numb on those dead pathways, but it burned everywhere else. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against her waist, extracting a whimper from deep inside her. She couldn’t stand that much tenderness, and sinking her fingers in his unruly hair, she pulled his head up towards her.

  He dived for her lips, kissing her roughly, as if wanting to wipe the pained expression off her face. The gentleness was gone. His body rubbed urgently against hers, pressed upon her, looking for points of entrance. Clothes became obsolete, ending up discarded in a pile on the floor.

  They exchanged no words, only sighs and moans as nature took over and had them do what came naturally. The air vibrated around them, sparks flew out of nowhere, and when he held her tightly, preventing her from crossing that final bridge without him, she knew this was not about magic. This was something else…

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Rafe zipped his pants and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. He looked pensively at the shape hidden beneath the sheets. Alise lay on her side with her hands under her cheek. Her face was serene while she slept. Funny because he doubted she had peaceful dreams. No one who had gone through what she had been through could escape the nightmares. Her eyelids fluttered, and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. At least she was spared for now.

  He cracked the window open to let the evening breeze in and closed the drapes. The lamppost right outside the window gave off an annoying bright light in the evening. He planned on letting her sleep until dinner, and by the sounds coming from the kitchen, it appeared that it wasn’t ready yet. She could use the rest.

  He walked around the bed, coming closer to her side, facing her back. The lightning-shaped scars were barely visible in the twilight. He had seen the scars before, cut them open, healed them, touched them, kissed them. But that wasn’t what he found interesting. A shimmer spread across the sheets behind her, forming the outline of a pair of wings that weren’t there. They had been once, and her body remembered them. With the recently acquired magic, it could recreate their image down to the smallest nervure. Beautiful.

  Rafe’s fists clenched by his sides. The bastard tried to kill her. Whatever Gorem’s reasons had been, he was going to make him pay. He took one last look at Alise—the wings fluttered with every intake of air—and left the room, silently closing the door behind him. He turned around and froze when he came face to face with Vale.

  “Hey.” Rafe nodded. “Any luck?” He made sure to lower his voice.

  “I couldn’t get to him,” Vale said. “They’re aware Nate’s been slipping in and out so they’ve forbidden any visits. And there wasn’t anyone else in the golden cages whom I could pretend to be visiting.”

  That was not good, but he would worry about Nate later.

  “I did find out something, though,” Vale said. “There’s a Witch on this side who might be able to help. She can do magic between worlds.”

  “That sounds interesting,” Rafe said. It meant she could drag Gorem back here. “I would like to meet this Witch.”

  Vale sighed. “I thought you would.”

  “Do you know where to find her?”

  “I have an idea … if we could convince her to cooperate.”

  “Leave that part to me.” Rafe’s grin was cold enough to scare anyone, even a Witch.

  Vale’s green-gray eyes glanced to the door behind Rafe and back at him. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  Rafe knew Vale was right, but he refused to admit it. It had felt too right at the time to suddenly be wrong. It didn’t change the fact that it was inappropriate. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done now.”

  Vale gave him a long look. “You won’t be able to kill her now.”

  It wasn’t a question, and Rafe didn’t disagree. He simply raised his shoulders. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it anyway.”

  Another long look. “There will come a day when she will beg you to do it.”

  Rafe hoped it wouldn’t come to that, although there was only one way it could end.

  “You’re going to deny her that,” Vale said, reading him like an open book. “You’re going to keep her to yourself and hope to find a cure, regardless of how much pain she’s in.”

  “But I’ll never stop looking for one.” It was the only answer Rafe had, for Vale or anyone else.

  Vale scowled. “That’s thoughtless and selfish.”

  He shrugged. “Aren’t we all?”

  * * *

  “Let them be.” Cassie eyed the couple enjoying the fresh air on the balcony.

  Outside the window, Rafe’s and Alise’s silhouettes profiled on the backdrop of the city. They leaned against the rail, standing closer to each other than they had a day earlier. Their faces looked peaceful, too.

  “They deserve a moment of peace.” She smiled to herself.

  “Not that kind of peace,” Vale muttered, unable to keep a frown from forming on his face.

  Dinner was over, and he had agreed it had been a good one. She was starting to learn everyone’s preferences. It wasn’t a crowd that was hard to please, and Vale had even offered to help her with the dishes. When they finished, he hung the towel in its holder and headed back to the living room.

  Cassie walked after him. “What is it with you? I thought you’d want Rafe to be happy ... even if it’s with someone else.” She settled on the couch, facing him.

  “That’s not happiness. That’s only going to lead to more pain,” Vale said and gave h
er a puzzled look as he reached over the table to straighten the plate that had one slice of coffee cake left on it. “What do you mean ‘even if it’s with someone else’?”

  “Well…” Cassie bit her lip, fearing she’d gone too far this time. “It’s clear you don’t like her, you barely tolerate me, and I haven’t seen you checking out other girls like Rafe does all the time ... so I figured you might be interested in him.”

  “Really? Me interested in him?” Vale chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart,” he somehow managed to impersonate Rafe’s voice, “but I don’t swing that way. And before you ask why…” He pressed a finger to her lips to keep her quiet. “Let me tell you that that—” he pointed at the couple on the balcony, “—can’t work out. We’re not supposed to fall for people outside our species. I know so,” he said bitterly.

  “You know so because...” Cassie’s eyes narrowed. “You also fell for someone you deem to be inappropriate, didn’t you? What did you do? Fall for a washing machine?”

  The look Vale gave her told her he didn’t find it funny.

  “Washing machine?” The room exploded with Rafe’s laughter. He walked into the living room and scooped up the cake, coming close to dropping cream on the floor. “I’d love to see her face when hearing that a mere human compares her to a washing machine.” He was still laughing. “By the way, how is the Lady of The Mists doing these days?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t call after we killed half of her guards,” Vale replied, making an unhappy face.

  “Ouch.” Rafe’s grimace was half-hearted. “But you must admit it was fun.” He grinned in spite of the sore subject.

  “Yes, it was,” Vale said. “Now, can we drop it?”

  Rafe nodded and focused on saving the cream dripping through his fingers. “Shouldn’t you girls start to get ready for the party?”