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Authors: Taylor Lavati

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #Teen & Young Adult

Wingless (4 page)

BOOK: Wingless
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But, first, I'll need my wings.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sweet Sixteen

It's my birthday. The past two days have flown by, most likely because I've been holed up in my room, refusing to speak to anyone. I've heard my Guardians downstairs preparing for my big party. Your sixteenth birthday only comes around once, they say.

My Guardians' house is packed with friends, family, and some people that I don't even know. They are just friends of my Guardians'. Everyone waits on my big, public entrance into adulthood. My stomach rolls with anxiousness at the thought of what's about to happen to me, but I have to make today count.

It is the start of my new life, my adult life, and I can't wait. The fact that I was chosen spoils my mood a bit, but I refuse to let it get me down. Nerves explode in my stomach as I stare at myself in the circular mirror.

I practice my smiling, so I can perfect it before I face the eager crowd. I can either go with a toothy smile or something sly and cool. I try out the toothy one, but I look like I'm trying too hard.
 

So, I shut my mouth and practice my closed-mouth, I-have-a-secret smile. It's flawless and perfectly appropriate for the occasion. I stand up and dust off my pink, princess-style dress imported straight from Earth. Normally, I would gouge out my eyes just for being draped in the color, but today, I won't let it get me down—even the fact that I can barely breathe, because my ribs are so tightly wrapped.

The back of my dress is a corset style. At least that's what my mother told me. She said that it's the new style on Earth, and I should appreciate getting it for my coming of age day. I refused to even retort that. It would fall on deaf ears.

My small breasts are confined so tight that I feel like they're in my throat. The dress is cut just above my knees, which is nice and all, but I much prefer wearing shorts or pants or anything that I can run around in.

I think I was seven when I really knew what I wanted to become. I mean, I knew all along that I wanted to fight and kick Demon butt, but it finally clicked in my head that day. I was with my best friend, Perry. She's downstairs waiting on me, surely wearing a similar outfit. Except we're polar opposites, so her expression is probably genuine when she smiles. She loves this kind of stuff. She's the kind of daughter a Guardian wishes she had: a girly-girl to the core. She loves attention, and she's someone who properly speaks, acts, and dresses.

Perry loved playing with other kids at school and at home. She'd invite the girls to have sleepovers and gossip and watch Earth movies. I dreaded it. I sat there with the girls wishing I was outside in the Viel air, running, leaping, and pretending to fly like our Guardians do.
 

I hated being confined to these identical houses that have barely anything in them. I still do. It completely freaks me out having to live in a box and not have wings. I can't fly down the street or go to the library without my Guardians' help. It's just hard to be stuck when I know there's so much more out there untouched, undiscovered by me.

I almost hate it as much as being chosen.
 

I take a final glance in the mirror before I make the descent down the stairs into a room, that I'm sure, is full of waiting Angels. For some reason, I'm nervous. I'm typically a calm person and not a lot fazes me, but my pulse has intensified to a level I've never felt before. I focus on my breathing to calm myself down.

All I want is to be a Fighter. I need gray wings. I need to train so I can fight and be with the other Fighters.
Please, Rem, grant me this one wish.
 

And then I take the plunge.
 

One step in front of the other, I finish my walk down the stairs. I realize that this is probably the last time that I'm going to be walking and using these useless steps that are hard against my small feet. Once the transition takes place, I'll have wings like my two Guardians and will be able to fly. We can finally get rid of these clunky stairs that take up most of the front room of our home.

The first eyes I catch once I'm down are my mother Guardian's. They're already red-rimmed and filled with tears, like she's been anxiously awaiting this moment her whole life—which in all actuality may be true. I smile reassuringly to her and continue to let my eyes roam around the group, taking in the best day of my life.

My father is standing next to my mother, his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. My Guardians met when they were chosen, although they claim to have noticed each other from afar long before turning sixteen. Their baby blue wings are almost identical in every way. Other than the fact that my father's are taller and a little thicker, you couldn't tell the difference between the two from behind.

Perry waves at me from behind my Guardians, so my attention is drawn to her. She wasn't chosen, thank our ruler Rem—that would be a nightmare in and of itself. She's out of control, but she's a Virtue. She claimed her white wings the day she turned sixteen, and I've hardly seen her since. She's probably learning how to make miracles by now. I'm really happy that she got what she wanted.
 

The last face I see before I take the final step into my party is Tab. He gives me a smile that says "I love you,"
and I try really hard to convey the message back, but the truth is, I don't love him. Love really isn't on my radar right now, to be brutally honest. Until I obtain my own personal goals, I don't care about love or much else. Being chosen kind of ruined that, though.

"Thank you all for coming!" I call out to the crowd like I know I'm supposed to. Some faces I recognize, others I don't. But it's no matter to me on my special day. I just want to get to my hour of joy. I have five minutes before my birth time is here, when the transition will inevitably take place. I saw Perry's change, which is awesome, because now I know what to expect.

She said getting her wings hurt a little bit, but I'm not afraid of some pain. Especially since when I become a Fighter, I'll be taking on Demons left and right—saving the universe from disaster. I expect pain. I crave the pain.

"Oh, Annie. You are just stunning," my mother coos, touching my dress and flattening it out so it lies against me, even though I just did that upstairs. I smile at her, showing off the disgusting human dress. My father takes my hand in his and squeezes it.
 

He leads me to our largest room, my mother trailing us, where I see my cake and candles sitting on the counter. My stomach flutters, little prickles exploding over my spine. The cake is white, with glistening frosting covering it. There are exactly sixteen candles, shoved into the top of it, just like the humans do.

"Quick! Let's sing before she gets her wings!" My father rushes around the room, making sure everyone is quiet and jumping around like a crazy Angel. I look up across the counter at Perry and Tab, both grinning ear-to-ear. I wink over at the two, knowing that this is my time to shine. It's probably the only time that I welcome the attention.

Everyone starts to sing as my father flicks his fingers, lighting the sixteen candles in front of me. My stomach does that weird flipping thing again, and I use the counter to hold some of my weight. I'm so nervous I can barely breathe, let alone stand.

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Angel Annie! Happy birthday to you!"
 

I can't control my enthusiasm as I lean forward and blow out my candles. In one heavy breath, I'm able to get them all out and I jump up, clapping my hands in a girlish way I don't normally take on.

The room erupts in laughter as people watch me with their own glee. I dip my pointer finger into the cake and savor the super sweet frosting. We don't need to eat, but who could pass up birthday cake? It's one of the only times when food is allowed in the Veil, so there's no way I'm not enjoying every last drop of this cake. This occasion may never happen again.

"Come on, Annie. Share with your friends!" Perry yells from across the counter, cupping her hands around her mouth to make her louder. I stick out my tongue at her, but move aside so my father can start passing out little slivers of my cake. He only gets to hand out two across the table when my mother screams with joy from behind us.

"It's time!" she announces to the room, rushing over to me. Immediately, it gets eerily quiet, the room almost freezing in place. The pit of my stomach burns with fire, and I feel like I might faint. The small bite of cake I had expands in my belly and moves around, almost like it might come right back up. I shut my mouth and stand still, waiting to feel something. "Five, four, three, two…"

Time seems to still as I wait for my chance. I will finally get what I've always dreamed of.
 

"One!" my mother yells. I stand tall, frozen, feeling nothing. I shut my eyes and will my wings to come in. I kind of push my shoulder blades together as if pushing the wings through my skin. I don't even care what color anymore so long as I get them.

One minute passes.

Two minutes.

Three minutes. I know because I count every single second. And each second that passes, I get more and more upset. I get more and more doubtful. And then I can't wait any longer.

"What happened?" I ask, opening my eyes for the first time since my hour passed. Maybe Perry was wrong. Maybe my wings came, but I didn't feel a single thing. I know I am stronger than her by a long shot since I spend so much time in the training center. I reach my hand back to feel my supposed wings, but it's barren, human-like.
 

"Val, what's going on?" my mother asks my father in a heated whisper behind me. Inside, I'm panicking. Something is wrong with me. Surely, this is just a mistake. Maybe the timing is off? But I know that's not the case. I've memorized my birth time since I could count to five, so I know it can't be a fluke.
 

I look into Tab's eyes across the table, trying to seek comfort but he's emotionless, an empty vessel of questions. His eyes are wide, his mouth dropped open in horror. He's just as stunned as me. I look to Perry—same face. I look to the random guy that my Guardians must've invited—same face. Nobody can believe what is happening to me.

What
is
happening to me?

Then, hysteria erupts in my home.

"We need to call the Archers, or at least the Chers," a man in the back of the room announces loudly, wildly swinging his arms. Others shoot down his idea, saying we need to just wait a little longer for them to come in. I look from Angel to Angel, but nobody's even looking at me anymore. They're all trying to theorize what went wrong with me.
 

Wrong.

Something is wrong.

I turn and sprint up to my room, needing to get away from the nightmare that's turning into my life almost instantly. I hate that I can't fly up to my room. I hate that I'm still glued to the ground. I slam the door shut behind me and lean against it, sinking onto the floor. I bury my head into my hands as an unwelcome sob erupts from deep within my chest.
 

When I got my wings, I should've gotten my powers. I should be able to control elements. I should be stronger and faster than what I started as. I try to conjure up air, like I've been shown in my prepatory classes, but nothing is happening to me. Another sob explodes from me as I accept defeat at life. I've failed as an Angel.

"Annie, let me in," a familiar voice says.

"Go away!" I yell back, wanting to be alone. I bury further into myself.

"I'm alone," she answers, and I crawl away from the door. She flies in, hovering just an inch above the floor and sits down next to me, holding me in her skinny arms. She's not upset or crying, like me, but I don't expect her to feel my pain.
 

I'm unbelievably jealous of her right now. She got everything she ever wanted and she didn't even have to work hard. I do everything to become a Fighter—I train, I run, I practice countless hours each day—and I don't even get a pair of wings.

"Can you make me a miracle?" It's my last ditch effort to be normal. Reluctantly, she shakes her head, and I don't ask for an explanation. I knew asking would be out of line, but I did anyway, being the selfish little Angel that I am. "What's going to happen to me?" I ask her, but before she can answer, Tab storms into the room, banging the door against the wall.

"Oh, Rem. I'm so sorry, Annie." He, too, comes next to me and sits down, wrapping me in his arms. I cling to him, knowing that everything is going to change now. Who ever heard of an Angel without wings? Is there such a thing? Surely, they can just give me some magic Angel powers to sprout my wings and move on after I'm back to normal. The Angels can fix this. The Chers are all knowing; they have to know what's going on with me. It gives me a little comfort knowing that.

But my relief is short lived.
 

Two Domineers that I've never seen before storm into my room, knocking the door off of its hinges with their expansive wings. I look up, wide eyed, terrified of their towering frames. Their silver wings shine in the white Veil air, but I'm not fooled by the glitz. They're here to take me away from my family. I can feel it deep in my gut.
 

The man closest to me nods, as if listening in on my inner thoughts.
 

"It's time to go," he tells me, his voice deep and taunting, almost daring me to defy him so he can fight me. Domineers are known for their aggressive attitudes. They're usually the guys in prep school who start fights just for the thrill of it.

"I'm not going," I tell him, feigning power even though I know that I have none of in this situation. But I'm not just going to take this. I can be a normal Angel. I just have to figure out a plan and go with it. I can fix this situation. I just need a second to come up with a plan of action.
 

"Yes, you are," the other Dom says. He steps closer to me so the two of them are in line with each other, just a foot away from me. Just as I'm about to stand and fight these men—which is such a stupid idea, but I have nothing left to give—my Guardians appear in the doorway.
 

BOOK: Wingless
9.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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