A Gift of Wings (16 page)

The girl made a noise as she shifted positions, but she didn’t open her eyes. He wondered if it was safe to leave her alone long enough to find her some water. He guessed she might need some—or something stronger—when she came to, but he didn’t want her to wake up alone. At least she seemed to be breathing just fine, and she wasn’t shaking as if she were going into shock or anything. As he studied her unconscious form, he noted the darkness of her hair and lashes against her pale skin, the soft curve of her lips. In the silence of the room, he could hear the soft inhalations and exhalations of her breath. He felt strangely protective of her, and he had an urge to reach out his hand and stroke her cheek, to soothe her if he could. Just as he gave in to the desire and was at the point of brushing her cheek with his thumb, her eyelids fluttered open. He quickly pulled his hand away so as not to startle her.

***

Lucky came awake as if she were swimming upward into consciousness. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Aidan bending over her, a concerned expression on his handsome face. At the sight of him, the memory of what had happened before she had blacked out came rushing back to her, and she gasped in alarm and tried to push herself up to sitting.

He put out an arm to restrain her. “Don’t try to get up just yet,” he said. “Rest for a little while longer.”

Lucky complied, relaxing back against the cushions of the sofa on which she lay and pulling the covering that was draped over her shoulders closer around her. She heard Aidan asking her if she was cold at the same moment that she realized that her blanket was his leather jacket. She shook her head.

Glancing around the room, she discovered that she was in what appeared to be an office. The light in the room was switched off, but the door was open, letting enough light spill in from the hallway that she could get a general idea of the room’s contents. Bookshelves and filing cabinets stood against the walls, and a desk sat perpendicular to the far end of the sofa, its surface cluttered with books and papers. Papers littered the floor near the sofa as well. Aidan was sitting in the desk chair, which he had drawn up to her side.

“Is this—is this Zeke’s office?” she managed to ask. The words almost stuck in her throat, her mouth was so dry.

Aidan nodded. Leaning toward her, he stared into her eyes. “I’m going to go find you some water. Promise me you won’t try to leave while I’m gone.”

When she shook her head, he asked, “Does that mean you won’t leave, or you won’t promise not to?”

“I won’t leave,” Lucky whispered.

“Good girl,” he said, squeezing her shoulder through his jacket. “I’ll be right back.”

Lucky watched him go in silence and then closed her eyes and relaxed into the sofa cushions. She was so tired and thirsty, not to mention confused and scared. What was happening to her? Too tired to do more than ask herself the question, she lay there letting her thoughts drift as she waited for Aidan to return. He had been afraid she would leave, but right now she didn’t have the energy to go anywhere. She lifted her heavy eyelids when she heard him step into the room from the hallway.

As soon as her eyes fell on the figure in the doorway, pain sliced through her head. Along with the pain came fear, as she realized not only that the person who had entered the room was not Aidan but that she had a pretty good idea who he was. Blinded by her pain and terrified of what the man in the door might do to her, Lucky screamed as loudly as she could.

CHAPTER 11

Almost as soon as the sound of her scream had faded, Lucky heard pounding footsteps, and then the pain in her head faded as Aidan ran into the office, calling her name.

Crouching down beside her, he grasped her shoulders. “What happened? Lucky, are you okay?”

She shook her head and started to sob. His arms slid around her, and he pulled her close, pressing her head against his shoulder. Lucky let him hold her as the tears came. Strangely enough, given the experiences of the last few days—including those of the last hour or so—she felt safe with him. The concern in his eyes and voice had been real, and his arms wrapped around her were strong and warm. Even though she was as confused and scared as ever about what was happening in her life, here in his embrace she somehow felt as if everything would be alright.

She let out a final sob and then drew back from Aidan, raising a hand to brush at the wetness on her cheeks. He found a box of tissues on top of the filing cabinet and handed them to her. Worry still showed in his eyes as he scanned her face. After she had wiped away the remnants of her crying fest, he handed her a bottle of water.
Well, at least his search was successful,
she thought, as she opened it and drank until she had drained the bottle.

Taking the empty from her and handing her another, Aidan asked, “Do you feel up to telling me why you screamed? Which scared the hell out of me, by the way.”

Lucky gave him a wry smile. “Well, I was pretty terrified myself, although I’m not sure if the explanation will make any sense to you.”

“Try me,” he urged.

“Someone came in here, a man. When I heard him, I thought it was you, but when I looked at him, it hurt—a lot—and I knew who he was—well, sort of—because only one person has ever made my head hurt like that. I was scared. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You knew who he was because he made your head hurt?” Aidan asked the question as if it made perfect sense.

“The other day, I was with Mo at a restaurant a few blocks from here, and this man came in. He looked so ordinary—middle-aged, average size, graying hair, moustache, glasses—but he gave me the creeps. And every time I looked at him, it made my head hurt. Then, when he was on his way out, he looked me straight in the eye for just a few seconds, and his eyes were all strange and yellow and glowing. And then my head hurt so badly I couldn’t even see. He left, and almost as soon as he was gone, the pain went away. The same thing happened just now. After I screamed, I heard you running down the hall, and I could tell he was gone, because my head didn’t hurt anymore.”

A frown had creased Aidan’s brow as he listened to her story. “This man is the only person who’s ever affected you like this?”

She nodded again, and then, gathering every ounce of courage she possessed, she asked a question of her own. “So, tell me, do you really have wings, or am I losing my mind?”

Aidan looked at her, his expression showing no surprise at her question. Then he stood and turned his back to her. In about a second, two large white wings appeared on his back as if they had sprouted right out of his t-shirt. Where the appendages connected to his body, they formed a sort of inverted V, nearly meeting at the top of his spine and growing farther apart as they moved down his back to end just below his rib cage. The tips of the wings, folded in as they were now, almost brushed the floor, and the curves at their tops stretched above his head by at least a foot. In the light from the hallway, the white feathers glistened as if they were sprinkled with gold dust.

Turning to face her, Aidan asked, “Does that answer your question?”

“Sort of.” Lucky frowned a little. “Do they burn? When I’ve seen them before—or thought I’ve seen them—they’ve looked like they’re on fire.”

Aidan nodded. Then, disappearing the wings, he sat back down in the chair facing her. “Yeah, they flame. Have you ever heard of Seraphim?”

Lucky vaguely remembered the term from her Catholic school theology classes. “They’re a kind of angel, right?”

Aidan nodded. “Yes, and they have the ability to appear as fire. I’m half Seraph—on my father’s side. I got the flaming wings from him.”

Lucky swallowed. “What about your mother?”

Aidan smiled. “She was human, a concert pianist.”

“Was?” Lucky asked.

He pressed his lips together. “It’s a long story.”

Understanding that he didn’t want to talk about his mother, Lucky asked another question. “How do the wings come and go without ripping holes in your clothes?”

Aidan chuckled. “You know e=mc
²
? Matter and energy are the same and all? It’s sort of like that. The wings are energy that we can summon as matter. And matter is mostly empty space. The wings take form around the molecules in the fabric of whatever we might be wearing.”

“Okay,” Lucky said, and then giggled, struck by the strangeness of the situation. How many people sat around discussing scientific equations with a self-professed half-angel? And if Aidan was half angel, what did that make Zeke?

Before she could ask the question, the being himself appeared in the doorway, flanked by a couple of people Lucky didn’t recognize.

“Ah, good,” Zeke said, “you’re awake. Shall we adjourn to the lounge down the hall? I think my office may be a bit cramped for all of us.”

The little group formed a procession and followed Zeke down the hall to the lounge to which he had referred. Lucky and Aidan were at the rear of the group, she with his jacket still wrapped around her shoulders. Entering the lounge, Lucky moved to sit on one end of an empty sofa, and Aidan positioned himself beside her. Zeke sat in an armchair across from them. A tall, broad-shouldered man with mocha skin and many long dark braids pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck leaned hip-shot against the arm of the chair to Zeke’s right. He was dressed in unrelieved black, the sleeves and shoulders of his long jacket adorned with large patches of leather. The final member of the group, a small woman with long white hair, clothed in a pale gray smock-like dress, perched on the edge of the chair to Zeke’s left. Given the whiteness of her hair, Lucky was surprised that her skin looked unlined.

Zeke broke the silence, his many-timbred voice surrounding and enveloping them. “I suppose some introductions are in order before we get started. Lucky, the lady to my left is Sambethe, and the gentleman to my right is Malachi. Sambethe and Malachi, as you have no doubt surmised, the young lady sitting next to our Aidan is Lucky Monroe, the guest of honor at this afternoon’s event.”

The woman said nothing, merely nodded once in greeting as her piercing grey eyes, even paler than Zeke’s, raked Lucky from head to foot.

“It is nice to meet you in person, Lucky,” said Malachi, in a voice both deep and dark. “I have had some small knowledge of you from friends.”

At his words, three crows descended from the shadows near the ceiling and, circling the room once, came to rest, one on each of Malachi’s shoulders, and one on his extended right forearm. They looked at Lucky with their bright, intelligent eyes, each in turn bobbing its head as if in greeting.

“I apologize if they frightened you,” Malachi continued. “They were merely confirming that you were the girl we sought. Aidan had given us some information about you and your powers; the birds were sent to find the one who matched the description given. They had to pass quite close to you to be certain you were the one.”

Lucky stared at the man and his avian companions in wonder. She felt as if she were in the middle of a dream or, like Alice, had fallen down the rabbit hole.

“It was quite a happy coincidence that you were on your way here at the time,” Zeke picked up the tale. “It made my job of contacting you much simpler. Once I discovered your interest in the
lamassu
, making sure you came to my lecture seemed the easiest course. It was then a matter of a few moments to engineer the presence of some specially chosen friends in the audience.
Et voilà!
Here we are.”

Lucky opened her mouth to speak, but finding no words at the ready, she closed it again. It took her another minute or two to form her incoherent thoughts into speech. “I may be missing something here, but I don’t understand why you were looking for me, why you wanted to contact me, or why you thought I needed to be here today. Who are you? And what do you want with me?” Her words were directed primarily at Zeke, but she cast a glance in Aidan’s direction as she spoke. His hand briefly covered hers where it rested on her thigh.

“We’re here to help you, Lucky,” Zeke answered. He looked at her in silence for a moment; then, leaning forward, he brought his face a little nearer her own. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, and his attention focused solely on her, as if they were alone in the room. “Lately, you’ve been experiencing the world a little differently, haven’t you? Seeing things that weren’t there before? Sensing things that make no sense in the world as you know it?”

Swallowing the lump that formed in her throat, Lucky nodded.

“And you’re going to turn eighteen in a few days, right?”

Casting a frowning glance in Aidan’s direction, Lucky responded impatiently, “Yes, in just a few days. Why is my birthday so important to everyone?”

“It is no accident that eighteen is the number associated with the Hebrew word
Chai
, which means ‘living,’” Zeke said, his gray eyes warm and reassuring. “Your powers will come fully alive on your eighteenth birthday, Lucky. It was important that we find you and talk to you before then. I would guess you’ve recently had some fears for your sanity. Am I correct?”