Feel the Flames Page 3

  I tried not to think about my past. It was too hard to come to terms with it all. Sean had been the angel on my shoulder guiding me the past few years, ensuring I understood the difference between acceptable and unacceptable behavior. Without him, I wondered if my moral compass would still point north if push came to shove. Was I capable of making good decisions with him gone? Would Dorian become that shining example of morality and integrity that was missing in my life? The jury was still out, but I could only hope that his mere existence would make me a better person.

  Dorian played with my hair. I stayed tucked into his shoulder, my mind beginning to wander. I hated keeping secrets from him, but I wasn’t ready to tell him everything from my past. I wasn’t proud of things I’d done, but the one secret I knew I could never reveal was the identity of my father. While we all knew that Sam and Raphael were one in the same, what people didn’t know was that Raphael had fallen in love with my mother and bore her a child…me.

  Hours passed as Dorian told one story after another about various escapades that he and Lillith experienced. His eyes danced as he continued to recollect their mischievous engagements all over the world as they fought the enemy with bravery and humor. I could tell he missed her more than he let on. Being stoic and somewhat callous was nothing more than a coping mechanism for him. He missed his sister, the one person who had stood at his side for over a hundred years. I knew he would eventually feel the full loss and grieve. Until then, I did my best to listen to his stories and be there for him when it happened.

  Hours later, I glanced up through the window. Night had fallen, and the moon had found its way high into the sky marking that it was time for Dorian and me to leave for Sean’s.

  I grabbed my latest painting and slid it into a large messenger bag. With one quick motion, I slipped the bag’s strap over my head and tucked it under my arm and stepped outside with Dorian in tow.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I asked. “It’s a ten-minute flight. You’ve barely flown for thirty seconds. And let’s face it…your landings are less than flawless.”

  “How else am I going to learn?” Dorian unfurled his wings and slowly flapped them a few times. “Besides…I don’t really have a choice. I need to talk to Oscar if we’re going to find out what that symbol means.”

  “Okay, then. Do you remember what I showed you about taking off from ground level?”

  Dorian’s wings opened, stretching wide behind him. He bent his knees, and used his superhuman ability to leap as high as he could. The air current caught his feathers, and he began to soar a bit higher than he ever had before.

  “I guess he does,” I muttered to myself, lifting off the ground myself in close pursuit.

  He was unsteady, and his flight was incredibly ugly. He appeared to almost wrestle the sky as he struggled to stay aloft. He fell from the sky twice, each time crashing to the ground with considerable force. But Dorian was stubborn—and persistent. Each time, he stood, dusted himself off and took flight once more. His wings tilted as he fought to keep the air current below him, but with every passing minute, he appeared to gain more control, gradually leveling off.

  What should have been a ten-minute trip took over thirty, but we eventually reached the hills above Sean’s trailer park and came in for a landing. Mine was soft and solid, as usual. Dorian’s landing was far less graceful and consisted of a tuck and violent roll that landed him thirty feet away at the bottom of the hill. I gathered in my wings and carefully trotted down the slope, reaching him in seconds as he stood and dusted himself off.

  “You okay? That was one hell of a landing,” I said, picking grass out of his black feathers.

  “Right?” he replied. “I’m getting better.” Dorian’s face glowed with pride. Leave it to him to have found the positivity in failure.

  “Sean’s place is that one over there,” I said, pointing at the last trailer in the corner of the park. It was far from any lights and his road was a dead end, so traffic down that way was scarce. “Let’s go. But be careful. We can’t let anyone see us. So, keep an eye out.”

  Dorian nodded that he understood, and together we made our way down the hill toward the trailer park. We marched in silence, eyeing each darkened window with suspicion, ensuring that no humans could see us coming. The cloudless night and lack of street lights provided us with the cover of darkness we needed to maintain our stealth.

  As we approached Sean’s place, I noticed one of his windows was illuminated behind dark curtains. I reached out and grabbed Dorian’s arm, jerking him to a stop.

  “I think there’s someone in there,” I said in a hushed tone, pointing at the window.

  My partner in crime stood quietly and studied the situation.

  “Roommate?” he asked.

  “No. And he didn’t have any family. Just a few friends he played poker with once in a while.”

  We watched a shadow walk past the curtain, disappearing to the opposite side.

  “So, what do you want to do?” Dorian knelt. We were both at the edge of the park, clearly exposed if someone were to step outside. I followed suit, making myself as small as I could. Together, we peered over the weeds and kept our gazes on what was going on inside the trailer.

  As the shadowed figure walked past the curtain again, I suddenly felt enraged. Someone was inside Sean’s house, probably rummaging through his belongings, looking for items to steal. They had no right to do that. Sean was dead, and someone had the balls to ransack his home? My hands clenched tight at my side with fury over the injustice that was happening inside.

  Without even thinking, I tossed my bag to the ground and drew my sword. I raced ahead and heard Dorian loudly whisper, “What the,” before hearing him close on my heels. We skidded to a stop as we reached the front door. I grasped my sword with one hand and flung open the door with the other, hurtling myself inside with Dorian close behind, ready to take on anyone who might be waiting on the other side.

  We were met with a scream and the crashing of a box filled with comic books striking the floor. The intruder stared us down in disbelief, her eyes wide with fear.

  “Omigod. Please don’t kill me. Take whatever you want.” The young woman put out her hands defensively. She didn’t appear to be armed and certainly wasn’t what I had expected to find in Sean’s trailer. Her hair was the most brilliant shade of pink I had ever seen. It was shaved short above both ears, her bangs hanging down over one eye. One ear held multiple piercings while a small silver hoop pierced her septum. Her make-up was dark and dramatic, lips matching her hair, completing her eccentric look, as if channeling some kind of gothic heroine from one of Sean’s comic books.

  I raised my sword so that the point was aimed directly at her chest and put on my best intimidating face. Her hands remained out in front of her. She backed up a step and found herself trapped between a wall and Sean’s bookcase.

  She had nowhere to run. I watched as her eyes fluttered between Dorian’s wings and my own.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded.

  “I—I’m packing.”

  I was incensed. Someone was in Sean’s house stealing his belongings. I felt a responsibility to my friend to keep his junk safe from intruders. I’d never understood his attachment to such trivial items, but they were important to him. Therefore, they were important to me.

  “This isn’t your trailer,” I said harshly. “This isn’t your stuff.”

  The intruder’s expression suddenly changed from immense fear to alarmed confusion.

  “I know. It’s Sean’s.” The would-be thief slowly lowered her arms and stood up straight. She lowered her brow and stared me right in the eye. “Wait. Do you know Sean?”

  “Why are you packing up his stuff?” I asked, my tone becoming more demanding.

  “Who wants to know?” she asked, her attitude taking a sudden turn. The sword no longer seemed to have an effect on her. She folded her arms defiantly across her chest.

  “I asked yo
u first.” I began to lower my sword, but then strengthened my resolve and again raised it, inching closer to the pink-haired thief. I needed answers. Not more questions.

  “I’m Grace, and I work with Sean. Well…I used to work with Sean. Before he disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?” Dorian had stayed back allowing me to take the lead upon entering the trailer, but even he seemed to want to know what was going on.

  “Yeah. Disappeared.” Grace eyed us suspiciously. “And by the way you just barged in here with those swords, I’m guessing it had something to do with you.” While her voice was accusatory, a flash of fear again crossed her face but only briefly.

  In a way, she wasn’t wrong. Sean was gone, and it was absolutely my fault.

  “Here’s the thing…Grace, is it?” She nodded her head. “Here’s the thing, Grace. This isn’t your stuff. So as far as I’m concerned, you’re a thief. So, you have two choices. You can either start talking and tell me exactly why you’re packing up Sean’s stuff or not.”

  “And what if I choose not?”

  “Let’s just say you’ll be the next person to disappear.”

  I watched Grace swallow hard, her bravery beginning to wane.

  “I worked for Sean at the comic book store. I used to come in all the time when I was in high school, so after I graduated he gave me a job. Said I knew more about comics than most of the guys who came in. But he stopped coming in to work a few months back. We tried calling. Some of us came down here. But he and his car were just gone. No trace of him. It’s like he just vanished. We called the cops and reported him missing. But there’s been no news. I figured I’d better come down here and pack up his stuff before something happened to it all. If he comes back and any of his comic books are missing or ruined, he’ll be really upset.”

  Dorian and I glanced at one another. The idea that Sean would be missed by anyone never even crossed our minds. He’d died a hero’s death, and his human friends had no clue. As far as they were concerned, he’d vanished. Little did they know that he was gone forever.

  But I quickly realized that my assumption had been naïve. Of course, he would be missed. His was the only comic book store in town, and people would have noticed his absence.

  “Do—do you know where he is?” she asked, staring directly at me.

  I took a quick glance in Dorian’s direction before again focusing my attention back on our intruder.

  “So, you worked with Sean?” I asked.

  “I think we already covered that.” Grace’s tone suddenly turned terse.

  “I never heard him mention you before. How long have you worked for him?”

  “A couple of years.”

  “How did you get in here?”

  Grace shoved her hand into her jeans front pocket and yanked out a key. “With this. He kept it in the cash register at work. Do I get to ask a question now?”

  “We’re the ones holding weapons, so I don’t think you’re in any position to negotiate.”

  “I don’t want to negotiate. I just want to ask a question.”

  I rolled my eyes at her brazenness. “Fine. Ask away.”

  “Why are you wearing those?” Her gaze alternated from Dorian’s wings to my own.

  “We’re not wearing them,” I replied.

  “I’m not blind. I can see you’re wearing wings. Is it some cosplay thing you do? Coming in with wings and a sword—and trying to scare me? Who are you trying to be?”

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’ve had these pretty much my whole life. Attached to me. I can fly. Real feathers. Now…back to what you’re doing here.”

  “Omigod! You guys are freaks! Totally delusional!” Grace began to laugh. It started slow but quickly built until she doubled over in hysterics.

  Dorian and I glanced at one another with confusion, but his face suddenly changed with a moment of clarity.

  “She doesn’t believe us. She thinks they’re fake,” he stated matter-of-factly, nodding back toward his wings.

  “Are your weapons even real?” Grace cackled, reaching out to touch the edge of my sword.

  I quickly backed away and lowered my sword to keep it out of her reach. I didn’t have time for her nonsense. The harder she laughed, the angrier I became. She finally stood upright, holding her stomach from the laughter. I took a step forward, the tip of my blade making contact with the side of her neck. I made sure to press just hard enough for her to understand that the blade was real—and very sharp. Grace’s temperament quickly changed. The fear returned in her eyes.

  “Look. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I’m done screwing around here,” I said. “Sean was my best friend, and the fact that you’re in here messing with his stuff is frankly pissing me off. So, now I have a choice to make. Do I let you go? Or do I kill you where you stand?”

  “Skyy!” I watched Dorian’s head snap in my direction from the corner of my eye. “You can’t kill her. She’s a mortal.”

  “She’s seen us. If I let her go, she’ll run off and tell someone. People will come looking for us. We can’t have that.”

  The blood drained from Grace’s cheeks.

  Dorian took a step closer and placed his hand on my arm. “But Sean knew.”

  “Sean was different,” I reminded him.

  “You haven’t even given her a chance.”

  “She’s touching his stuff!” I shouted causing both Dorian and Grace to suddenly jump. “She doesn’t belong here!”

  Grace began to visibly shake, her eyes darting between Dorian and me as she suddenly understood that we weren’t joking around.

  “I—I won’t tell anyone. I swear. I mean…I don’t even know who you are. You’re just two random people wearing wings. I can forget what you look like. Promise. Just—just please don’t kill me.” Tears streamed down our terrified prisoner’s face as she begged for her life.

  I stared her down, my hand holding firm to the hilt of my sword. One flick of my wrist and I could slice through her carotid. But something held me back, keeping me from doing the deed.

  “Skyy…this isn’t you. This isn’t what Sean would have wanted. He held you to a higher standard.” Dorian gripped my arm a bit tighter.

  My rage about the situation had clearly clouded my judgment. But the truth of the matter was I had killed mortals before to keep my secret hidden. I shuddered to think what could happen if the world discovered me and Dorian—wings and all. The old me wouldn’t have hesitated. Grace would be dead already, her blood seeping into the carpet.

  But Dorian was right. Sean wouldn’t have approved of my behavior had he still been around. He would say I was a superhero—not a villain. I tried not to think about Sean’s lifeless body on that battlefield, but the truth was I thought about it a lot. His belief in me had given me a sense of sanity when he was alive. But his death left a hole in my heart, and I wondered if I would ever stop grieving.

  I slowly lowered the sword and took a step back.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

  Grace gasped with relief and proceeded to fall apart. She tried to dry her face with the back of her hand, causing her to look a bit like a raccoon from her running mascara. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she found herself crumpled up on the floor next to the bookcase.

  “Sean wouldn’t have wanted me to head down this path.” I turned around and collapsed onto his old sofa, dust wafting up around me.

  Dorian didn’t move, his attention focused first on me, then Grace.

  Finally, Grace spoke.

  “What happened to Sean?”

  Dorian shot me a sideways glance, and I lowered my gaze to the floor.

  My mind was a jumble of images from that day. Sean being run through by Raja, then bravely smiling in the face of his enemy. The defiant words he spoke as he lay dying. Watching him take his final breath. There wasn’t a day that passed where I didn’t think about him…or how much I missed him.

  “You said you’re the reason he disa
ppeared.”

  “What?” I asked, startled out of my trance.

  “Before. You said—”

  “I know what I said.” I rose from the couch and faced her down. “He didn’t disappear. Sean’s dead.”

  My words were blunt. I hadn’t meant for my confession to come out so brusquely and unfeeling. I expected Grace’s expression to show shock at my revelation. Instead, she showed no sign of grief or devastation but rather…relief.

  “I guess I already knew that,” she said quietly. Her shoulders rose and then fell suddenly. She wandered a few steps into the kitchen and leaned back against the counter. “How did he die?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I replied.

  “Did you kill him?”

  “No!” I barked suddenly. “Why in the hell would I have killed my best friend?”

  Grace cocked her head to the side, and I could see the wheels turning as she tried to figure us out.

  “How do I know you were his best friend? Just because you say so? I mean, he never even mentioned that he had one.” She stared me down defiantly. It appeared she was no longer afraid of me now that I hadn’t killed her. Her head motioned in Dorian’s direction. “He called you Skyy. I take it that’s your name?”

  “No. He just called me that because he was too stupid to remember my real name.” I turned my head and shot Dorian a glance, thumbing a gesture in Grace’s direction. “Can you believe this chick?”

  “Fine. Skyy,” she said rolling her eyes. “I think I do remember him saying your name once—maybe a year or so ago. He said he had an errand to run for someone named Skyy. And when I asked who that was, he said it was none of my business. One can only assume he meant you. So, you didn’t answer my question. If you didn’t kill him, how did he die?”

  “And I told you that you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Try me.” Grace hastily folded her arms across her chest, her eyebrows raised with anticipation.