Author: Schubach, Erik
Date: 2016-07-17
Publisher: Erik Schubach

Djinn: Cursed

By Erik Schubach

Copyright © 2016 by Erik Schubach

Self publishing

P.O. Box 523

Nine Mile Falls, WA 99026

Cover Photo © 2016 Ouh Desire / ShutterStock.com license

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties.  Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, blog, or broadcast.

This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Manufactured in the United States of America

FIRST EDITION

ISBN 978-0-9975256-4-9

Chapter 1 – Falling

I had never known fear like this in my life, the ground rushed up to meet me as I fell almost two hundred feet in the middle of the night from the top of the Coit Tower here in San Francisco.  The odd glow of the city lights on the white stone of the tower blurred past, letting me know how fast I traveled as I plummeted to what I knew was going to be a sudden and violent stop at the bottom.

I wondered if I would feel anything.  I didn't want to die, and I especially didn't want to die painfully.  Falling to my death was not on the top of my to-do list tonight when I went out partying with my friends on my twenty-first birthday.  Wasn't being twenty-one supposed to usher in a new chapter in your life?  Not be it's last?

Well falling to my death was a misnomer in this case, since falling indicates some sort of unfortunate accident.  In this case, I was experiencing my own murder, as I had been unceremoniously thrown off the observation deck above.

Since you are privy to the last seconds of my life, I guess I should introduce myself.  I'm Angelina Drake.  I moved to San Francisco a year ago so I could attend nursing school here.

Let me rewind the evening a bit... I really should have been back in the dorms studying, but Billie and Stacy had convinced me to go out partying with them to celebrate the fact I could now legally drink with them.  Not that that ever stopped us before.

I had been studying in the stacks; the human pulmonary system was sort of fascinating to me; when my two roommates tracked me down.  They were a little loud and overly excited for the stacks, and they looked like they were hellbent for mischief, all decked out in their clubbing gear.

I looked around at some annoyed and overstressed medical students as they peered over their own stacks of books which they had been immersed in.  I shot an apologetic look but couldn't help but grin at the girls.

I whispered, “Hey, quiet down girls.  What are you two doing here?  Aren't you like, allergic to studying or something?”

Stacy looked ready to burst as she said, “A little birdie in the admissions office leaked a certain someone's birth date to us, Drake.”

Billie nodded excitedly and held out a garment bag she had been carrying.  “You're coming out to celebrate with us.  Come on, we'll stand guard at the restroom while you get changed.”

I started to protest but knew it was a losing battle, especially after Stacy tempted me with, “Maybe we can find some hot girl to hook you up with.”

I was a little surprised at how accepting my two roommates were about the fact that I played on the other side of the fence.  They hadn't even batted an eyelash.  To the contrary, they seemed to be excited about it and would often drag me out partying and point out prospective women for me as they prowled for men.

When I asked about it and commented on how cool they were about it, Stacy had just chuckled and said, “This is San Francisco.  You can't swing a stick without hitting a lesbian or two.”

Then Billie had chimed in. “That's more men for us.  Besides, that whole adorable girl next door thing you have going on there lures the guys into our web by the boatload.”

I had to chuckle at them.  What else could I do?  And I have to admit, they were fun personified, and I could do a lot worse for friends in this burg.

I rolled my eyes, smiled, then closed my anatomy book and stood, taking the proffered garment bag which was hanging from Billie's fingertips.  She clapped quickly in excitement, her hand's fluttering.  We looked around to the people shushing us in exasperation from the other tables in the old law library, as we ran off to the restrooms, Stacy scooped up my study materials to carry with her.

I gave them one last “are you sure” look, then stepped into the restroom as they stood at the door to give me the privacy I needed.  I unzipped the bag and had to snort.  Those two took every opening they could to play up this girl next door axiom they keep throwing around with me.

I shook my head and looked in the mirror which hung along the entire length of the row of sinks on the low Formica counter.  I was just your average West Coast girl, with darker, dirty blonde hair, and blue eyes.  My eyes were about the only thing I liked about my looks.

I wasn't a California Girl like my two friends, all boobs, and butt.  They could have stood in for fashion models in any photoshoot emergency.

Stacy being the tall, leggy, and shapely stereotype which I'm almost positive she goes through great effort to project, hiding her sharp mind and quick wit.

Billie has that mocha chocolate skin that simply glows an almost gold.  She's short, sweet and sassy.  And they both always dress to the nines, showing off what God gave them.

I chuckled at the contents of the bag again, then looked down at my slight frame and shrugged.  Then I took out the white tank top, sky blue blouse, and white shorts.  This was their idea of my clubbing gear.  They liked to dangle me like innocent looking bait.  The scary thing was how well it worked.  Sometimes I think guys are driven purely by their hormones and not their brains.

I poked my head out the door to look at my friends.  Billie in her form fitting dress and Stacy in her painted on jeans and low cut blouse, showing just enough cleavage to make you want to see more.  I held up the tank top, an eyebrow cocked as I asked, “Really?”

They both chuckled, and Billie shoved me back into the restroom, closing the door on any protestations I may have had.  I snickered to myself then sighed in resignation and got dressed.  From the bottom of the garment bag, I pulled the shoes out and again rolled my eyes at my white and gold sandals.

I swear I'm just a Suburban Barbie to them at times.  But hey, I loved 'em.  I slipped the sandals on, stuffed my things into the bag then leaned forward on the counter, supporting myself on my hands as I examined my face.  I screwed it up in a silly grimace then shook my head.  I guess I was passable.  I took a moment to touch up my lip gloss then turned to look at the bland, utilitarian door.

I slung the garment bag over my shoulder, steeled myself, then stepped through it to my friends.  Billie turned to see me and nodded with an appraising look. “Lookin' hot Drake.”

Stacy gave me two thumbs up.  I grumbled, “Why do I feel like a slab of meat you're dangling in a lion's den?”

They giggled, and we were shushed again.  Then Stacy whispered behind her hand, “It's because we shamelessly use you as our bad boy magnet.”

I nodded and was pulled along with them toward the door as I mumbled indignantly, “That's what I thought.”

Before long we wound up walking to a hotspot downtown, Hailey's.  It was a loud and crowded, two-story club which catered to young twenty-somethings with it's booming bass and neon lights.  There were other glitzier clubs on the strip that lured the tourists in with flash, glamour, and watered down drinks, but us locals knew how to step beyond the hype to where the real fun was.  Hailey's was it.

I narrowed an eye at my two escorts as we walked arm in arm toward our destination.  They knew I sort of had a thing for Hailey, the owner.  She was a thirty-something emo with a flair for business and these fascinating sleeve tattoos that I've always wanted to see more of as they disappeared into the sleeves of her always tight tees.  And she flirted with every male or female patron, I'm sure she is bi because it doesn't feel forced in any way.

She was also a shrewd businesswoman to compete with the bigger clubs and stay open in the most competitive area of the city.

I'm not usually into older women, but Hailey was hot with her bright purple hair and umm... perky assets.  I mean come on, I have a pulse.  She let the girls smuggle me in even though she knew I was underage, but she made sure that nobody in the place would serve me anything but soda.

I also knew that Hailey was into the innocent look which the girls had picked for me tonight.  They met my gaze sheepishly, and Billie shrugged and squeaked out, “What?  Maybe you can score us some free drinks with Hailey, it being your birthday and all, and since Hailey is... well since she is Hailey...”

I chuckled as we started crossing the street to the end of the line by the doors, and said, “You do realize she's at least ten years older than me, right?”

They wisely kept their mouths shut, but their mirthful eyes sparkled as they tried not to look at me.  I muttered, “Skanks.”  They burst out laughing.

Then I pulled the girls up short as bright lights hit us.  A dark SUV had been barreling down the road without its headlights on and had snapped them on just before it almost mowed us down.  I caught a glance of a bald man at the wheel with a hard look on his craggy face as the car roared past.

Billie's hand shot up, giving the driver a one fingered salute as she yelled, “Asshole!”

Ok.  I took a deep breath as I tried to calm my racing heart.  Adrenaline making me jittery as Stacy hissed, “The asswaffle almost hit us.”

This got me chuckling, and we hurried out of the street to the end of the line of clubbers.  I asked as I shivered from the night air as much as from the effects of the adrenaline from the near miss burning off in my system, “Asswaffle?  Where do you come up with that stuff?”

She raised her head and looked down her nose regally and sniffed, “It is from my cultured upbringing.”

Fifteen minutes later we found ourselves inside the club, music pounding, bodies grinding, and people yelling over each other in the chaos.  We found a back table near the bar and sat to observe for a moment and take it all in and formulating our plan of attack for my introduction into the adult world.  I chuckled to myself, knowing the people here were trying to escape the adult world.

Stacy stood a moment on her tiptoes, looking over most of the crowd, I was jealous of her height at moments like that.  She muttered to us, “There're only two waitresses working the floor tonight, it might be easier if you go get the drinks at the bar for us, Drake.”

I glanced back at the bar to see none other than Hailey manning said bar.  I rolled my eyes at my friend. “Subtle there, Stace.”

She just laughed merrily.

Billie winked at me and said, “Come on Angelina, we're thirsty.”

I smiled at the two, they were shameless really, and prepared to stand when the sounds all around me seemed to blur together, and I caught snippets of conversations from all around the club somehow, I couldn't make out the words, but the whispering echoes of various people saying “I wish.”

I swayed, grabbing the edge of the table with both hands to steady myself, then shook my head to clear it and the raging sounds of the club slammed back into place like a door being opened to let them in.  What the hell was that?

It had happened earlier today too, when one of our instructors had said, “I wish you would all pay better attention to the lectures.”  There was this disorientation and a pressing need inside me to do something, but I'm not sure what.

Stacy furrowed her brow. “Angel?  You ok?”

I nodded and gave a weak smile. “Yeah, I just stood up too fast.  Got a little dizzy there.”

She watched me with concern before I started toward the bar.  I weaved between people who were more intent on making a hookup, or talking with friends than paying attention to where they were going.  I ended up at the bar with a silly hop, planting my feet and smiling at Hailey as she looked up from the drinks she was preparing.

In my usual highly sophisticated manner, I awkwardly waved from my hip like a schoolgirl.  “Hi, Hai.”

Her smile bloomed on her face as she said, “Hey gorgeous.  Be with you in a sec, let me finish up here and I'll get you a Pepsi.”

I blushed and then dug out my ID as I said, “Actually, maybe a beer?”

She glanced at what I was holding up, with a stupid grin painted on my face.  She paused and asked as her eyebrows rose, “No?  You gotta be shitting me.”  She took my ID, and her smile grew, if that was even possible.

Then she returned it to me and tilted her head as she studied me, saying, “Well slap my ass and call me Aunt Sally.”

I scrunched up my face in confusion.  “Huh?”

She laughed out loud and patted my hand and said, “Hang on darlin'.  I'll get you one of my special reserves.”  She glanced at the table with my roommates and added with a wink, “But just the domestic shit for your friends.”

She placed the drinks she had been preparing on a tray and looked around and scowled, then bellowed, “Trish?”  She mumbled, “Where is that girl now?  I swear she is the slowest barmaid I have.  I wish she'd hurry her ass up.”

Her words echoed in my head, and I swayed, almost stumbling, but was able to get a hand on the bar to steady me.  Hailey placed a hand on mine as my head cleared, I looked up into her dark eyes, her face creased in concern.  “You alright darlin'?”

I took a deep breath and centered myself, nodding.  “Fine, just a dizzy spell.  I've been having them all day, I think I'll go in to get checked out if it keeps up.”

She patted my hand before withdrawing hers.  She nodded skeptically. “Alright.”  Then she nudged her chin at my table and said, “Go take a seat.  I'll bring the drinks out to you.”  She winked. “Drinks are on the house tonight.”

Good lord, for someone older than me, she certainly could get my motor running.  I squeaked out, “O-Ok.”  Smooth Angel, real smooth.

I made my way back to the table and froze in place when I saw a man over by the main doors, standing by the wall.  It was the bald man from the car which had almost hit us.  He was standing there looking my way.  He was wearing dark professional clothes that were not really suited for clubbing, not to mention the fact that he was in his late forties... in a pop club.

Surely he wasn't looking at me, I looked back at the bar and realized he must have been looking at Hailey.  I mean, what's not to look at there?

I put my head down and navigated the rest of the way to the girls and sat down, assuring them, “Drinks are on the way.”

Billie said over the music, “And she seemed to be giving you an appreciative once over.”

I muttered to her, “I hate you.”

She giggled and leaned in to place her head on my shoulder playfully.  I shook my head, unable to stop my smile and wrapped my arm around her head in a silly hug.

Then we sat back to pick out perspective hookups for the girls.  I sagged back in my chair and held my head when the world tuned out again, my vision tunneling.  I could hear whispers from all around, I somehow knew some were even outside the building, in the neighboring blocks.  I could make out some words.  “I wish I were dead”  or “I wish he'd look at me that way” or  “I wish she understood me.”  It was coming from all around me, and I bit back a frustrated scream over the fact I couldn't seem to control it.

Then just as suddenly as it hit me, it was gone, and I was gasping and reeling when the world snapped back into place around me.  The girls looked overly concerned, Stace asking, “Drake?”

I exhaled and said, “I think I might puke.”  That was apparently the signal for my roommates to spring into action.

Billie was by my side helping me stand on shaky legs.  “Let's get you to the restroom.”

Stacy was scowling.  “You didn't drink anything from a strange glass at the bar did you?”

I chuckled and let them lead me along to the back hall and the restrooms, saying in an indignant tone, “No I haven't been roofied.  I've just been having dizzy spells today.”

We stepped into the little hall in the back by the restrooms, it was overcrowded as usual, and I glanced up at Stace, who smiled down at me.  That's when all hell broke loose.

Her eyes had gone wide with confusion then she fell forward lifelessly onto the floor as the screaming started.  There was a huge knife sticking out of the middle of her back.  Blood spreading around it.

I looked at her in shock as people panicked and started running back into the club.  Stacy?  Someone had killed my friend?  What was going on?  I started to look up when I was slammed against the wall of the narrow corridor, a hand around my throat.  I blinked as I looked into the eyes of the bald man.

He had a wild look in his eyes, he enjoyed bringing pain.  I slapped at his arm ineffectually, he had a grip like an iron vice and he towered over me.  He must have been six foot four.  I couldn’t get any air into my lungs.  I saw two other men beside him, one had a gun in his hand.  I was reeling in confusion.

Then Billie was there, hitting the bald man's arm with a fire extinguisher.  She was screaming in fury.  The second blow caused him to release me as one of the other men grabbed her hair and yanked her away as I slid down the wall.  My vision swam with motes of light as I fought to remain conscious.  I saw Billie being slammed head first into the other wall repeatedly until she slumped down into an unmoving heap.

I tried not to slip into hysterics.  Stacy was dead, and Billie might be too.  What was going on?

I heard a sharp metallic sound over the screams and music and Hailey's voice booming out, “Hey!  Asshat!”

Then there was a tremendous roar of sound and light as the shotgun she was holding spit fire.  The man who had attacked Billie slammed back into the wall, breaking the drywall and leaving a halo of red blood spattered on the wall.

She yelled my way as the third man dove at her,  “Angelina, run!”

I nodded as I saw her knock the gun out of the man's hand with the butt of the shotgun.  Then she hit him with a solid right cross as I scrambled to my feet and staggered as fast as I could down the hall, Baldy in pursuit.

I slammed the emergency exit open and ran out into the alley, my mind numb.  I was in shock.  Someone had just killed my roommates.  Now I was running for my life while Hailey took on three armed men alone.

The door was almost knocked off its hinges behind me as Baldy burst into the alley.  Ok, so Hailey was facing two armed men, one of which was most likely dead already.  I whimpered and ran.  I could hear sirens in the distance approaching.  I stumbled out onto the sidewalk at the street, and the man had almost caught up.  I heard air brakes and looked up, I was at a bus stop.

Someone stepped off the bus, and I stumbled up the steps.  The bus lurched into motion as I fumbled for my bus pass.  I looked out the window as we pulled away from the curb while I made my way to the back, Baldy glaring at me before he ran back down the alley.

I was hyperventilating.  I went to dig out my cell to call 911, but it wasn't there.  I remembered putting it on the table back at Hailey's.  Damn it.

Who were those men, and why were they trying to kill my roommates and me?  And to do it in public with so many witnesses?

I needed to think.  I glanced up to see what area we were in.  I just needed to get far away from the man.  Wait, the bus driver could call the police.  I started to get up to make my way back to the front of the bus when I was hit by another nauseating wave of disorientation.  The whispers were back.  I closed my eyes tight against the onslaught, clenching my fists to my forehead as a thousand voices from all around me echoed in my brain. “I wish I had a car like that” and “I wish mommy and daddy would stop fighting” with “I wish Brad would shut up and kiss me.”

Was I going insane?  Had I lost it?

I don't know how long I was assaulted by the whispering ghosts of wishes of people around me, but when the bus stopped to pick up another passenger, I needed air.  I stumbled out the back doors and onto the sidewalk.  I took in deep breaths of night air and looked up.

There was the Coit Tower, looming above me.  I always came here to think whenever the pressures of life and my lack of love life got to be too much.  Had I subconsciously come here or was it just a coincidence?

It was closed now, but I still walked up to the concrete tower.  I needed to think.  I know it was irrational, but I wasn't thinking really clearly with all the excitement and violence and blood... oh, the blood.  I whispered, “Stacy?”

My vision was blurred by my tears as I stumbled up to the tower.  I swung my gaze back to the road when two dark SUVs screeched to a halt, and Baldy and three other men piled out of the vehicles and started running toward me.

I screamed, “What do you want with me?”  Then I turned back to the doors.  I blinked.  They were propped open with some hoses leading out to a cleaning van.

I stepped inside the tower quickly and called out, “Hello?”  Where were the workers?  They could help me.  I looked at the elevator at the center of the tower and hit the button a dozen times in my panic, the workers were probably cleaning upstairs, I reasoned.

The elevator doors closed just as the men in their dark clothes came sliding to a halt.  I heard Baldy call out, “The stairs.”

I was shaking, I'm sure I had more adrenaline than blood in my veins at that moment.  To my relief, there were two workers buffing the floors on the observation deck level when the elevator doors slid open.  And they were big men.

I stepped out begging, “You have to help me there are men chasing...”  I blinked as a spray of blood splattered across my face, accompanied by the concussively loud sound of gunshots.  The two men fell with bullet wounds to their heads.

I bit back a scream and turned to the men who had just arrived, led by Baldy.  I backed up to the doors to the observation deck.  I pleaded, “What do you want from me?”

He sneered and said, “That's an easy question.  I'll tell you what the man who hired us said.  Though I'd wager, he's just a madman, but his money is good.”

I backed out the door, and the men followed.  I continued backing to the railing as he smirked and said, “We just want you to make a wish.”

With that, he lunged forward and hoisted me up like a sack of grain over his head, as I struggled uselessly, and he threw me over the railing.

That's how I found myself facing the last couple seconds of my life here.  As I fell, I asked in confusion, “Why did they want me to make a wish?”  He was right, whoever hired him was a madman.  If I were to make a wish, it would be something like... I mumbled as I accepted the fact I was already dead, I just need to hit bottom to finalize it, “I wish I could fly.”

My words boomed in my head, echoing in so many tones like dozens of voices and whispers echoing my words.  They were young and old, male and female, in dozens of languages, but they were all me.  Threatening to drive me mad before I died.

I screamed as my back felt as if it were on fire as my skin tore and stretched then with a whump and fluttering sound, something sprang from my back. I screamed again with the pain and effort as the wind pushed against the new pieces of me that sprawled out impossibly far to my sides as my angle of descent changed. The strain of it threatening to tear the new appendages from my back, and I swooped back up and away from the ground that promised an end to the insanity of the night.

My chest brushed the ground in a glancing blow, and I stared dumbly at my shadow as I arced back up into the night sky.  I glanced to my sides and blinked as I whispered in disbelief, “I have... wings?”

Chapter 2 – Hiding

I absently soared, wings outstretched, one wingtip brushing the outer wall of a nearby two-story building as I gained altitude from the momentum and kinetic energy converted from my fall.  I just stared dumbly at the impossibility of those graceful wings with equally large feathers lining their arching length.  I tried to even grasp the concept that these great white wings were somehow part of me.

The human mind wasn't built to process something so inconceivable that it defies everything you know to be true in this world of ours.

I was snapped out of the shock, which was threatening to drive me mad, by the sound of gunshots from above and behind me.  If I hadn't already started dipping as I bled off the speed and energy as I just stared at my... wings, the shot that I could feel whizz past my right shoulder would have hit me square in the back.

I tried to process that too as I instinctively flapped my great wings and then folded them tight against my back to use the power of the strokes to increase my speed.  I dove toward the ground which I had been scared would be my end just moments before.  I could... feel the alien appendages and felt the disturbance of the air of the bullet passing the sensitive leading edge of my wing.

Just as I was about to hit the ground chest first, my wings sprang open with a great whump again, and I cocked them and flapped again, careening around the corner of the building, putting it between myself and the shooters in the tower, kicking up dirt and loose debris from the ground.

I poured on the speed and threaded my way between buildings, flapping and weaving in a complicated evasive action.  Hearing the gunshots becoming just echoes and more distant as I fled in terror.

I made a wrong turn into an alley near ground level and was traveling at far too high of a speed to stop before I would collide with the iron gate at the far end of the alley, which stretched one and a half stories up the alley walls.  I didn't have time to try another powerful stroke of my wings.

I could feel my heart pounding as if it was in my throat.  Oh come on, the world was out to kill me, didn't I warrant just one single break?  I hadn't been such a terrible person in life that I deserved this had I?

I squinted an eye preparing for the impact which would surely kill me just as dead as if I had completed my fall from the tower.  Then my eyes went wide when I saw the decorative hole two-thirds of the way up the gate, the wrought iron bars were woven in a wreath pattern, and it was just big enough that if I...

I slapped my wings tight to my back and spun my body as I corkscrewed myself through the hole.  I heard my tattered blouse tearing as part of it caught on the metal.  I heard the sound of the compressed air of my passing echo off the iron and the walls, and I was through!

I snapped my wings wide and soared around the corner and into the street.  I had lost so much altitude that I ran and skipped briefly on the road for a couple steps in front of an oncoming car.  I screamed out in anger and defiance, and flapped my wings with all my strength, leaping into the air.  The antenna of the old rusty white sedan whipped my foot, tearing off one of my sandals and sending shooting pain up my leg as the driver slammed on the brakes, horn blaring.

Then I was airborne again, whooping in exhilaration of the two near misses in as many seconds.  I couldn't hear the gunshots anymore, and I chanced a look back.  The tower was receding in the distance rapidly, I had traveled over a half mile in maybe twenty seconds or so.

I shook my head at everything that had just transpired as I absently flapped my way toward familiar territory.  I know it is stupid to go where someone looking for me would be sure to stake out, but the human mind is conditioned to be comfortable in familiar surroundings, to feel safe in an environment they know.

I swooped into an alley.  I knew I couldn't be out in the open like that, with the chance of so many people below seeing me.  At least it was dark.  I was... a freak.  Oh god, I was going to end up on some government dissection table.  I needed to go somewhere, to hide, to think.

Then my eyes snapped wide, and I started flapping with urgency.  Stacy, Billie!  Those men had killed my friends.  I had to get to them somehow.  They didn't deserve what had happened to them.  I felt tears streaking my cheeks and my vision blurred.

I screamed in anger and frustration.  Those bastards had killed my friends!  I glanced at one of my impossible wings, realizing that the feathers were a sort of mottled white and tan on top and white as the driven snow on the leading edges and underside.

I flapped my wings again and then wondered just how I was able to fly with them.  I mean, I had just gotten them a minute ago, and it just seemed natural to me as I flew and evaded the attack.  I flapped again.  How did I know how to use them?

At that thought, I lost all control of them, thinking too much.  Like looking down at your feet as you are running to make sure you put them one foot in front of another and winding up stumbling.  The wings sort of hung limply, partially folded to my back as I plummeted.

On instinct I wrapped the wings around myself in a protective gesture as I hit the ground, skipping and rolling across the alley and slamming into a dumpster in the darkness.  I was first aware of the crashing, thudding sound that seemed too loud to me before the pain of the impact caught up with my nerves and I whimpered in pain.

It felt like I had almost broken my back and I felt a searing pain from... I had hurt a wing.  My wing.  I blinked back tears of my physical pain and from the emotional anguish of my roommate's fate.  I was dazed, and everything was fuzzy.  I was hurt... bad.

I opened my eyes as I felt movement.  I didn't even remember passing out.  I would have rolled my eyes at myself if I didn't have a head-splitting migraine.  Of course, I didn't remember, I was busy losing consciousness at the time.

I felt the movement again and realized that someone was dragging me across the ground in the alley.  I squinted in the dark as the person heaved again, dragging me a foot at a time.  It was a girl.  She looked to be maybe nineteen-ish.  Her eyes looked to be wide in fear as she looked toward the end of the alley as she pulled me back further.

She was wearing tattered clothing, and her long dark hair was tangled and matted, plastered against her scalp.  She looked like any of the other homeless people in the San Francisco area.  Her eyes were dark pools, wide and almost manic looking.  There was something not quite right about the woman.  Those eyes were most likely a mirror of the near insanity in mine when I discovered I had...  Oh holy shit, I had wings!  This woman was dragging me on my back by my wings.

I tried to protest, but my voice was a groaning croak.  The girl turned her eyes from the alley entrance to me, and the wild look softened as she smiled a brilliant smile at me and she whispered, “You're awake.  Hang on Angel, we need to hide, they are almost here.”

I blinked at her.  She knew me?  I tried to place her but was coming up blank.  If it weren't for that manic look in her eyes, I'd say she was almost pretty.  If she got cleaned up, I was sure she would be.

I heard the screeching of tires on the pavement nearby, the sound of cars taking high speed turns on the asphalt.  Then car horns sounding their protest of the recklessness.

She cussed under her breath and looked around, her eyes locked onto something and she said, “Sorry Angel.”  Then with a great heave, she pulled us over the edge of a small stairwell down to some old basement in the degraded brick building.

I landed hard with an “Oof.”  I winced in pain as I landed on a wing.  I rolled slightly, and it wrapped around in front of me, and I weakly cradled it in my arms.  A moment later the woman fell unceremoniously on top of me as I heard the screeching of tires as some vehicles made a high-speed turn into the alley.

It was them, it had to be.  My heart was threatening to beat out of my chest, and every instinct in my body was screaming at me to flee, to take to the sky and not look back.  That made me swallow, whatever had happened to me, to make me a freak, had invaded my instincts as well if my first thought was to fly away.  Had... had my mind been changed as well?  Was I still... was I still me?

We sat there a moment, her on top of me our faces inches apart as I just stared into her dark eyes.  I swear they were reflecting her inner torment, something that haunted her to her core.  Then she just grinned despite the gravity of the situation.  And reached over for a dirty canvas trap which was draped over some detritus in the stairwell; Some boxes and paint cans that were likely put there long ago and promptly forgotten.

She pulled the canvas over me and hugged it tight to my wings.  I yelped in pain over my injured wing.  She put her other hand over my mouth and gave me a warning look in the darkness.  I held my breath as we listened to the cars slowly prowl down the alley.  I could see light sweep past our hiding spot as they searched.

Then a moment later the screeching of tires as they moved on and turned down the street once they reached the end of the alley.  I tried to sit up and move her off me, but she shook her head and released my mouth, putting a finger to her lips as she cocked her head and listened.

After a few seconds, she nodded her head and said off to the side, “Thanks,” For some odd reason.

Then she looked at me.  It was hard to make her out in the darkness under the canvas.  In a sweeping move, she whipped the canvas off of us and rolled off of me, saying, “They say they are gone now, Angel.”

I sat up, cradling my wing and wincing at the pain in my head and back.  I shook my head and asked, “Who says they are gone?  Who are you and how do you know my name?”

She cocked her head and asked in confusion, “Your name?”

I nodded as I started examining the leading edge of the impossible wing, feeling for breaks.  It seemed to be only deeply bruised tissue with no breaks unless there was a hairline fracture of the light bones.  “Angel.  How do you know me?”

Her face screwed up in confusion, then she looked to her left and said, “I know, lay off, just let me talk.”

Then she turned her eyes to me and said far too cheerfully for how insane she sounded saying it, “You're a fallen angel.  I saw you fall from the sky myself.  Those men were looking for you, they must have seen you fall from the heavens too.  But you're my angel, I found you.”

Oh... she really was mad.  She didn't know my name, she seriously thought I was an angel.  Then I blinked and started laughing almost uncontrollably.  Maybe she wasn't as far gone as I thought.  After all, here I was, examining my wings for injuries.  My wings.  I had fucking wings!

I looked more like an angel than human now so what I would have thought impossible just minutes before was staring at me in the face as I subconsciously wrapped both wings around myself in a protective cloak.  Maybe I was the mad one, and she was... wait, she was talking to someone who wasn't there.

Could my life get any more fucked up?

I assured her, “I'm no angel.  Those men are trying to kill me for some reason, and I don't have a clue why.  And I don't know how I got these wings.”  Then in a confused voice, tinged with a bit of wonder as I spread them wide to look at, I said, “But they saved my life.”

She looked at me dubiously, and I took a deep, calming breath and centered myself.  Then I exhaled and offered my hand out to her as she looked away from my face, her eyes tracking the length of my wings.  I blushed under the scrutiny, folding my wings to my back as I offered, “Angelina Drake.”

She looked disappointed I had hidden my wings away from her, and she accepted my hand and reached her other hand out timidly to stroke the top of my left wing.  It sent shivers down my wing and spine to my toes.  It felt sinfully good as she absently said, “Everyone just calls me Mouse.”

She had such a look of fascination on her face, and it seemed to chase away that haunted look that shadowed her dark eyes.  I blushed again and extended my left wing a bit letting her look at it, and I shivered again as she brushed the feathers lightly in wonder.

Then she inhaled sharply, stepped back and shut her eyes tightly and then asked a question that took me by surprise.  “You're real?  I can feel you. You're not like the others.”  She motioned her chin to the empty space beside her.

Then I got it.  She was hallucinating.  I narrowed my eyes and took her in the best I could in the poor lighting.  She didn't have any telltale signs of drug abuse.  The poor woman must have some form of manic schizophrenia and was hearing voices.

She was looking confused and almost disappointed as she asked, “You're not an angel?”

I shook my head, and she stared at the wings on my back, and I could see despair and horror widen her eyes.  I knew she thought she was imagining my wings and that she had dropped deeper into her mental prison.

I quickly reached out on instinct, wrapping my left wing around her, to comfort her.  I said with conviction, “They are real.  You aren't seeing things.  I don't know how but I have wings, and there are men trying to kill me.  You saved me Mouse.”

She closed her eyes and took three quick breaths then seemed to snuggle into my wing and opened her eyes.  It broke my heart when a tear ran down her cheek, and she nodded to me.  I was a little distracted as she ran a hand along the leading edge of the foreign appendage as she asked, “How?”

She accepted the wings easier than I had.  But I'm sure she was used to hovering somewhere between sanity and a madness nobody else could imagine.  It was all new to me.  I opened my mouth then remembered Stacy and Billie.  I blurted, “I'll tell you, but I need to get to my friends.  I think... I think they're dead.”

I started up the stairs and paused, looking at my wings as Mouse held onto the wingtip and walked beside me.  I hissed a profanity and then looked up to her.  “How do I hide these things?  I'm a freak.”

She smiled at me with nothing but pure mirth painting her features, making her look even younger and even prettier.  She chuckled out, “You're actually asking a mad woman how to hide your wings?”

She snorted, and I couldn't stop my smile as she started chortling.  I laughed with her then calmed myself.  I pulled my wing to me, dragging her along since she seemed unwilling to let go of the tip.

I pulled her in front of me and said in a suddenly serious tone,  “You're not mad.  You hear me?  It is a disease, it can be treated.  Do you understand me?”  I realized I was angry at her for being so flippant about her affliction.  It wasn't her fault, and it wasn't something to joke about.

Even in her current mental state, she helped a complete stranger, I don't think she even realized it yet.  That told me all I needed to know about the core of the person behind the haunted eyes.  I asked softly, “What's your name Mouse?”

She let go of my wing and hugged her arms to her chest as she looked down.  Her voice was small, like the mouse she took as her street name, as she said, “Dorian.”

I exhaled and then asked in a tone that sounded just as lost as I felt, “Can you help me, Dorian?  I need to see my... friends.”  My voice choked on the last word.

She nodded, and I folded a wing around her and squinted through my migraine.  She smiled warmly and held my wing to herself like a blanket, then said, “Come on, I think I know what to do.”

I had to chuckle when she added almost cutely, “I'm still calling you Angel.”

I nodded and acquiesced, “Fair enough.”  It was my name after all.

Then she was leading me down the litter-strewn alley and out into the San Francisco night, which seemed to swallow us whole.

Chapter 3 – Hailey's

Dorian led me from shadow to shadow, scurrying like her assumed name, Mouse.  San Francisco doesn't just roll up its streets and go to sleep at night.  It just comes alive with a different heartbeat as people seek an escape from their daily lives in an artificial wonderland.  But she seemed to be quite adept at moving around unseen by the people crawling the night streets.  The shadows were hers.

This was a particular bonus in my case, as I was distracted and still a little bit in shock.  I kept glancing at the impossibility of my wings as I kept catching them in my peripheral vision.  They were always just there, where nothing should exist.  It would take just one person seeing them to start the questions that I had no answers for.

I couldn't go to the police – not like this.  What in the hell would I tell them?

I hesitated and looked down at my one bare foot which was bruised and cold as I stood in another alley, the heat of the day had already seeped out of the pavement, and I shivered.  I instinctively wrapped my wings around myself, wincing at the bruise on the right one as it moved.  I was instantly warmer as the layers of great feathers created a barrier from the chill night air.

Then we were on the move again and wound up in an alley a few blocks from Hailey's, close to Chinatown.  Dorian looked around, cocked her head to the left and hissed under her breath, “I know that, do you think I'm stupid?” She glanced at me and lowered her voice to just a whisper, “They're still out there looking, just a block away.  Like they know where we are.”

Then she narrowed her eyes at me and said it again, “Like they know where we are...”  She stepped forward and pushed one of my wings aside and reached for me as I started backpedaling.  What was she doing?

My first instinct was to run, no... to fly, to get away and I half unfolded my avian appendages to do that before I paused when she started searching the pockets on my shredded blouse.  I blinked at my reaction, again, my instinct had been to fly.  I was in a fog, trying to self-assess my mental state, prodding to see if I could tell if anything else had changed in my mind.  How would I know?  It was a frightening concept.

She paused at my collar and then narrowed her eyes.  She tugged and something came off of it, and she held up a tiny electronic device.  I blinked.  Baldy had bugged me?

She growled at it and threw it as far as she could out into the street.  She looked over to the left again and hissed out, “I know.  Just let me think.  Where are they?”

She exhaled, and I reached a hand half out to her, wishing I could help.  My hell wondering if my mind had been messed with was nothing compared to her living it every single day.  She needed treatment, and meds to help mitigate the symptoms.  I was impressed that even as far gone as hearing voices, she was still functional.  She had gotten me this far.

She looked at my half-extended hand and smiled and took it and just started dragging me with her as she headed deeper into the alley.  “We only have a couple minutes.  They are heading this way, maybe a minute or two out.”

She pulled me to an old fire escape at a five-story building, and motioned for me to climb.  I hesitated, and she cocked her head toward the mouth of the alley.  “Hurry, they say they're almost here.”  We got to the landing of the rickety old, rusted fire escape.  My hand was sticky from touching it and I didn't really want to know what was on it.

Then she pushed on a sheet of plywood which was covering the second story window, it pivoted up on a single nail, and she said, “Inside quick.”

I hesitated then pulled my wings tight to my back and ducked through the window.  The glass had long since been broken out, and the blue paint was peeling from the window frame as I stepped into a dusty and dark room.  The place had been long abandoned.

A moment later Dorian stepped in and let the plywood slide back down in place, eliminating most of the dim light.  I could barely make out her face, in what little ambient light which seeped through from the boarded up windows, from the city beyond.

Then I heard the screeching of tires on pavement as cars came to a quick stop.  I opened my mouth, and she held a finger to her lips, and I remained silent.  Then she whispered to her left, “No, I'm not going to check.  You look.”

She cocked her head for a moment or two then she smiled at me.  “They say the men found the tracker in the street.”  We heard the cars speed off with the screeching of tires as they turned at the end of the block.  “They're gone.”  She exhaled and leaned her back against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor.

I moved closer to her and asked, “How did you know where they were?”

She looked embarrassed and said with all the shame and self-loathing a person could muster, she admitted, “They told me.”  She nudged her chin toward the window.

I nodded carefully and said, “I see.”

She huffed out a breath and glared at me, the little light we had glinting off her dark eyes.  She growled, “Don't.  Just don't.  I know I'm not playing with a full deck.  I'm not stupid.  I know I'm just hearing and seeing things... but they are almost always right.  I can't explain it.”

I just stared at her, not knowing what to say to that.  Then she reached up from where she sat and gently ran her hand over the leading edge of my left wing, again sending little tremors of pleasure through me.  It was so soothing.  She explained, “I'd think you were one of them, but I can't touch, or smell any of them.”

She paused and asked, “You're not a fallen angel?”

I shook my head and smiled a little at that.

She nodded then asked, “Then how is this...”  Her hand paused her stroking to indicate what she was speaking of as she finished, “...possible?  I know I'm not that far gone.”

There was another pause then she added in a half whisper, “At least I hope I'm not.”  Then she said like I hadn't noticed I was living a nightmare, “You have wings, Angel.”

I started crying and nodding as all the emotions that I had been holding at bay since this horror show of a night began, came crashing down on me.  This woman whom I didn't know, this perfect stranger who had done nothing but helped me since I literally fell into her life, leapt up and stepped forward without hesitation.  She embraced me, holding me and shushing me as I sobbed into her shoulder.

My wings extended a little then engulfed us in a shroud of false security.  We just stood there like that until I could get myself back under control.  I sobbed one last time saying, “I have to find my friends.  At Hailey's.  I have to know if they're really...”  I couldn't finish the sentence, I didn't want to voice the word 'dead'.

She nodded, and I unfolded my wings, and she stepped back.  She held up a finger and then moved to a canvas bag beside the window we had come in.  She pulled out plastic, battery powered lantern and switched it on.  She said with pride as she indicated the room in a sweeping gesture palm up, “Welcome to my place.  We'll get your wings hidden then see about your friends.”

I couldn't help but smile at her, and I looked around the little room.  Age and neglect had done a number on the room, it was in such disrepair.  The wallpaper was curling off the walls, and there were even a  couple holes in the wall where you could see the old lathe boards and plaster from a bygone era.  Most of the empty space was covered in dust and cobwebs.

There were a couple backpacks and more canvas rucksack style bags next to a sleeping bag in the center of the room.  I asked, “You, live here?”

She nodded and said in a chirpy tone, “It's not the Ritz, but it beats a cardboard box now doesn't it?”

I had to smile at how proud she sounded about that.  This was just a step up from a cardboard box, but at least it kept her out of the elements.  I nodded and said, “It's very nice.”

She grinned toothily as she countered, “Liar, it's a shit-hole.  But what's a girl to do?”  She stepped to the packs and started digging around in one.  “Here try this.  It is way to big for me, but it may work in your particular...”  She paused, looking for a diplomatic term before finishing with, “Condition.”

She handed me a large trench-coat.  I looked at it then my shoulders.  My wings spread a bit on their own.  She stood and looked at them in wonder and asked, “How do you, you know... control them?”

I started thinking about it, and how I had been using them all night without thinking.  I reached out to touch one, but it moved away in tandem with my hand.  I spread my arms, and the wings mimicked me.  I couldn't get them to do what I wanted.  I cursed, “Damn it!  When I actually think about moving them then, I can't get the fucking things to work.”

She cocked her head and said, “It is probably an instinctual response.  When your focus shifts that into the spotlight, you can't quite put the pieces together, and your brain substitutes what you know.  See how they move with your arms now?  It is like any other motor control, it is something you will have to learn.”

I blinked at her.  She stared at me and blinked back.  Then she cocked an eyebrow, “What?  Can't a girl have a brain, even if it is misfiring and a bit manic?”  She chuckled. “Fine, whatever, Robin told me to say that.”  She winked.

I tried to hide the big smile on my face behind a hand and almost hit her with a wing, but she ducked down in time.  I growled at myself.  “Fucking wings!”

She chuckled and stood back up and closed the distance between us and she said softly, “It's ok Angel.  Just relax, don't think about it.”  She snapped to the left, “Shut up, I've got this Randy.”  She turned back to me and just smiled.  It was a pretty smile.  Then she just said, “Hi.”

I found myself blushing as I said back to her, “Hi.” My wings went slack, and I folded them against my back as I pushed my sweat damp hair behind my ear.

She grinned like she had just won the lottery, “There.  See?”

I glanced back at my shoulders then turned back to smile at her.  I looked down at myself then pulled off the blouse and looked back over my shoulder again, trying to see where the wings came out of my back, high between my shoulder blades, I raised one so I could get a better look. The neckline of the tank top had been pushed down to accommodate them, and I absently wondered how I'd get out of the shirt.  There was no way these god damned wings would get through the neck hole.

I turned back to Dorian as I held the remains of my favorite blouse.  She had an almost dazed look on her face as she smiled.  I glanced down.  Dear Lord, the tank top was plastered to me, and not leaving much to the imagination.  My wings came forward to cover myself bashfully.  I asked, “What?”

She held her hands up in a surrendering gesture, “Nothing.”  Then she added with unveiled innuendo, “Angel.”

I gave an incredulous squeak and threw my blouse at her as she chuckled at me.  I caught myself grinning and pushed it away then looked at the trench-coat and pulled my wings as tight to me as I could and shrugged into the coat.  It was a man's, meant to hang down to his knees, but it came down to my ankles.  I could see the tips of my pinion feathers peeking out beneath it, just an inch from the ground.  Huh... like they were the exact length as not to drag.

I was just able to pull the front closed and button it with the mass on my back.  I looked back, I looked hunchbacked.  I looked at Dorian, who was in a whispered argument with someone named Dan.  She felt my attention on her and turned.  I asked, “So?  Passable?”

She nodded and said with a slightly amused smirk, “You look like you should be in a bell tower at Notre Dame, but yeah.  That'll work.”

Then I looked at the coat again and asked, “Why do you have this if it doesn't fit you?”

She narrowed her eyes almost dangerously and said in a measured tone, almost in challenge, “It's mine.  I found it.  That's the rule.”

I held up my hands and assured her, “I'm good with that.”  Then I looked down at my feet.  I could feel the dust and detritus I was standing on and bunched up the toes of my one bare foot.

She huffed out an exasperated breath then said, “You're like the worst angel ever.” She started digging in the rucksack.

I countered, “I'm not an angel.”

She pulled out some ratty looking sneakers as she said, “You don't get a vote.”  Then she paused and said, “I get your sandal.”

I squinted at her and said as I took it off and handed it to her, “There's only one.”  My feet felt so dirty on the grimy floor.  She almost yanked it out of my hand and handed me the sneakers.  I looked at them in the dim light, then her as she stuffed the sandal into her rucksack.

I exhaled and tried the ratty things on, I was sure they would look even worse than I thought in the light.  They were a little big on me, but I cinched the laces tight to make up for it.  Then I exhaled and said to the woman who was cussing at Randy, “I need to get to Hailey's.  Thank you, Dorian.”

I started toward the window, and she stepped up beside me.  I looked at her, realizing she intended to go with me.  I shook my head. “You shouldn't follow.  People around me are dying, and someone is chasing me for reasons I can't fathom.  And I have...”  I looked at the hump on my back.

She snapped her head to the side and growled, “Shut up Robin.”  She turned back to me and grinned.  “You're sort of my responsibility.  You almost fell on top of me, and I have to help.  I mean, how often does someone have the chance to help an angel.”

I started to correct her, “I'm not an...”

She held up a hand and looked away as she said, “You don't get a vote, remember?”  Then she got very serious, in an almost scary way as she said coldly, “Besides, you owe me a coat.”

I swallowed hard and blinked.  People were trying to kill us, and she was worried more about the coat.  Then she suddenly broke into a smile and winked at me as she slid the plywood to the side and peeked out in the alley.  I smiled at her back.  She was so odd and random... and I liked her.  A lot.

She cocked her head to the side like she was listening intently, the light from the city highlighting her profile starkly in the night.  Bringing the sharp lines of her cheek into stark focus.  She looked almost half starved.  Then she looked back at me and said, “They say it's clear.  But we have to head toward the Bay and circle around, they're doing a pattern search.  Two vehicles.  Two block grid with a one block overlap.”

I blinked at her, and she shrugged in embarrassment, and I could see her cheeks color in a blush as she said, “Randy was a cop.  He knows shit.”

I snorted, and she grinned, showing her teeth.  I tried not to chuckle.  I was amusing the woman.

As she held the plywood up for me to pass through the window, I asked her,  “Tell me why we're listening to a voice brought on by a hallucinogenic episode of your manic state?”

She muttered to me, “Hey, you got wings, don't dis my voices.”

Fair enough.  I knew I was going mad now since that made sense.  She stepped out and slid the plywood down in place then led the way back down the fire escape.

I swear she seemed to be having a good time while I was scared shitless with everything that had happened.  It was the single most terrifying and surrealistic night of my life.

I staggered, and she balanced me as I was hit by another disorienting wave as hundreds of voices whispered in my head, some close and clear some more distant whispers.  They were coming from everywhere.  “I wish I were taller.” “I wish my boss would drop dead.”  “I wish I had enough money to eat.”  “I wish I were fucking high.”

Then the wave passed and glanced over to see Dorian's face etched with worry.  “You ok, Angel?”

I smiled and took a deep breath.  “I'm fine.”  The last thing I needed to tell a woman who was hearing voices was that I had joined her club.

She smiled and nodded encouragingly and said, “Ok, let's go then.” Dorian led the way toward the Bay.

It took us over a half hour to circle around, in a randomly circuitous route to get near Hailey's.  We stopped in an alleyway across the street, half a block away.

The entire end of the block was cordoned off.  There were dozens of people behind the police tape and barricades, rubbernecking at the scene around the club.  There were ten or twelve police cars, a SWAT van and... I swallowed hard as I looked at the coroner's van.

There were three body bags in what looked like racks of cots in the back of the open van.  I choked back a sob and covered my mouth.  Dorian was there instantly hugging me to her.  Three body bags.  Stacy, Billie, and the man Hailey had shot.  I felt a small amount of consolation knowing that Hailey hadn't got herself killed for helping me escape.

I almost growled as some reporter set up outside the police tape mugging for the camera and making sure the coroner's van was in the shot.  Fucking parasites!  Those were my friends in there, not a photo op.

Dorian whispered like she knew what I was thinking, “We don't know anything yet.  Hang on a second.  Don't go anywhere.”

She gave me a stern look, and I furrowed my brow in confusion.  She stuffed her hands in her pockets and just walked out into the commotion.  She moved behind the bulk of the crowd and used the coroner's van as cover to slip under the police tape.

My eyes bugged out as she slid into the drivers side of the van.  Was she mental?  Oh...

A moment later she slid back out.  Wearing a coroner's jacket and a cap which read coroner, pulled down over her eyes.  She held a clipboard, and she brazenly walked out directly past two officers who were manning the scene, keeping people behind the yellow tape.

I couldn't take my eyes off of the scene.  She acted like she was supposed to be there and it was actually working.  She stepped into the back of the van and then looked back at me.  I couldn't see from there, but I just know she had that cheesy and toothy grin on her face.

I held my breath as she unzipped each bag to look inside.  She paused and seemed to deflate at the second bag.  Then she checked the last one and turned around and hopped back down to the ground and almost walked into the chest of a man in a suit with a shiny badge hanging from his belt.

They had an animated discussion for a moment, and she tapped the clipboard animatedly then the man seemed to grudgingly let her walk toward the building.  When he turned to ask one of the men at the barricade something, she ducked her head down and veered off, double-timing it down the block and disappearing into the alley, shedding the cap and coat along the way.

I almost chuckled.  The woman was fearless.

I sat there another fifteen minutes, and she didn't come back.  Had something happened to her?  My guts were tied up in knots in worry.  Had I gotten her hurt or worse?  Had the police detained her?

I exhaled sharply in exasperation.  Damn it.  I knew just as much now as I knew when those men had attacked.  Abso-fucking-luteley nothing.  I took a deep breath in resolve and faded back into the darkness of the alleyway behind me.  I had to make sure Dorian was ok.

I circled the block then back behind the block Hailey's was on.  I ducked into the alley, seeing the yellow tape at the end of it.  I tried to move as quietly as I could as I stuck to the deepest shadows like Dorian had when she was earning her Mouse moniker earlier that night.

I listened carefully as I crept along.  Trying to tune out all the voices and sounds of the people gathered in the street beyond.  I whispered, “Dorian?”  Then again, “Mouse?”

A moment later I was being thrown against the brick wall of the alley.  I cried out in surprise and pain as my wings slammed against the wall.  I tried to gasp, but there was a forearm across my throat, making it hard to breathe.

I blinked as I stared into Hailey's eyes, her face inches from mine, I swear I could hear the tendons in her muscled arm creaking as her eyes went wide and she relaxed.  She dropped her arm and stood back in surprise, whispering, “Angelina?”

Then she was grabbing me again and hugging me tight to her as I gasped for the sweet, but the dank air of the alleyway.  I didn't care if it smelled like mold, the air felt wonderful now that I knew what it was like not to have any in my lungs.

She pushed me away and held me at arm's length and asked.  “Are you hurt?  The other asshat was chasing you, how did you get away?”

Before I could answer, she dropped and spun backward, her leg shooting out, sweeping the legs of the figure approaching her from behind with a clipboard raised to strike.  Dorian fell flat on her back, the clipboard skittering away along the ground.

Hailey was moving so fast, one moment she was crouched the next she was standing over a terrified looking Dorian with her fist poised to strike.  I blinked my shock away and grabbed Hailey's arm.  Even then she dragged me along as I pleaded, “No, she's with me!”

She paused and looked aback at me and relaxed and I let go of her arm and asked in amazement, “Holy shit woman, how strong are you?”  I blinked as I noted her arm, where her shirt sleeve was pulled up more from where I grasped it.  Her array of interwoven tattoos seemed to flow around one I had seen before in many movies.  A special forces tattoo.

She looked down at her arm and subconsciously covered it with her hand then pulled her sleeve back down over her bicep.

She stood and glared down at a sheepish looking Dorian then offered her a hand and pulled her up like she weighed nothing.  Then she turned her eyes to the police tape then over to me.  They were cold and hard like I have never seen from her before and it chilled me.  She hissed, “What the fuck is going on Angelina?  Who were those men?  I've had the worst time all night dealing with the fucking cops, and they want me to come into the station to answer more questions in the morning.”

I knew she was mad and rightfully so, but I needed to know.  I squeaked out, my voice barely audible, “Stacy and Billie?”

Her face fell and took my heart with it.  Dorian blurted, “Billie is alive.  Only Stacy and two men were in the van.”  She squatted and grabbed the clipboard and handed it to me for me to read.

Hailey added in a soft tone, “Billie is really fucked up.  They took her to SF General.  It doesn't look good.”

I started sobbing, and Hailey pulled me to her, her arm like a coiled steel band.

She grabbed the clipboard from Dorian and looked at it.  She growled and handed it back.  “John Does, no IDs.”

Then she moved me to arm's length.  “Come on then.  Let's get you inside.  They'll want to speak with you.  They've been looking for you all night.  They've got your photo all over the television.”  She added, “I thought the worst.”

I shook my head and resisted her urging me along with her arm.  I said with all the shame in the world dripping from my voice, “I... can't Hailey.”

She almost growled, “What do you mean you can't?  I just killed two fucking asswipes tonight.  They killed one of your friends and put the other in the ICU.  What do you mean you can't?”

She moved to grab my arm again, and I backed off a step, looking at my feet as I unbuttoned the trench-coat.  I said with a ragged voice just above a whisper, “I mean... I can't.”

I let the coat drop, and I spread my wings wide.  They made a sound akin to a sail snapping tight in a sudden wind.

She gasped and crossed herself as she muttered, “Holy Mary, Mother of God.”

Chapter 4 – Understanding

It took a couple more hours, and the sun was rising before the police and forensic teams had all left the club.  I watched from the window of the little apartment Hailey had on the second floor of the building. Where she had hid Dorian and me away.

Once she had snuck us up, she went back down to deal with what was sure to be another round of questioning.  We had turned her television on with the sound muted and saw my picture on just about every channel.

We chanced turning the volume up slightly to hear the news reporting on a murder at Hailey's Nightclub.  Three dead, another in critical condition, and a man matching Baldy's description last seen chasing me out of the club.  He's considered armed and dangerous.  I almost snorted at that, thinking, “Yeah no shit.”

The police spokesperson was saying that no motive for the murder was apparent, and they are still investigating.  They were praising the actions of the club owner for stopping two assailants before they could harm any other patrons.  Anyone with information as to my whereabouts or anyone who has any information was to call the police violent crimes hotline.

Dorian had been unusually quiet, glancing to the side nervously.  Occasionally shaking her head like she was reluctant to speak to someone.  I didn't want to push, I was still trying to comprehend the impossibility of the wings which were attached to my back.  The wings that had saved me from a gruesome death.  How was I ever going to go out in the world again without everyone staring at me, or wanting to put me in some sort of freak show?

Dorian looked up at me and cocked her head, her brow furrowed in concern.  She sat next to me on the edge of the smaller bed in the little studio apartment as I held my uninjured wing out at full extension.  She leaned against me in solidarity and said quietly, “It's going to be ok.  Everything will work itself out.”

I chuckled with a slightly bitter note as I relaxed the wing and engulfed her with it, draping it around her shoulders as I said, “Says the girl without wings.”

She turned and gave me an overly cute grin then started playing with the smaller feathers lining the underside of the leading edge of the wing.  I closed my eyes, it felt sinfully good.

My eyes snapped open in panic, and I almost jumped out of my skin when the door to the studio opened, and someone said, “Now tell me just what the fuck is going on, and how is...”  Hailey pointed at my wing as I took it off Dorian and folded it to my back, and she finished, “...that, possible?”

She almost growled, “Why did I have to kill two men in my club, Angeline?  What are you into?”

Dorian narrowed her eyes and shifted on the bed so she imposed her body slightly between Hailey and me.  I wondered if she even knew she had done it.  I was at a loss but was given a reprieve when Hailey turned her attention to my protector, “And you.  Where did you come from in the alley?  I hadn't seen you in there, and if I hadn't seen your shadow on the ground, you would have got the drop on me.”

Dorian blushed and shrugged.  “I was trying to circle back to Angel when you stepped out into the alley to take a smoke.  You looked aggravated so I hid.  That's sort of my specialty... hiding.”  Then her voice took on an aggravated and accusing tone, “I couldn't just hide there anymore when you started hurting her.”

The tenseness sort of seemed to bleed out of Hailey as she glanced at me, where I was sheepishly wringing my hands, and she exhaled audibly.  “Sorry about that.  You were skulking around a dark alley after a murder, and I didn't see your face.”

I paled, and she narrowed her eyes in concern.  I still couldn't believe that Stacy was... “Oh, I'm sorry hon.  I'm an idiot at times.  I'm so sorry about your friend.”

She turned away from me when Dorian hissed under her breath to one of the voices, “No, I'm not saying that.  Now shut up and leave me alone.”

The woman with her dark matted hair paused when she realized eyes were on her, and she just gave the club owner a cheesy grin.  Hailey turned from her cautiously to look at my way, one eyebrow cocked in wary question.  I shrugged and said offhandedly, “Just one of the voices that talk to her.”

Hailey snorted then shook her head, then rubbed her brow fervently.  “Oh, of course, the voices... and you have wings, and what sort of fucked up drug induced trip am I on?”

She looked ready to snap, and it scared me.  She was the only one of us keeping it together, and I couldn't have her losing it just then, or I might slip over the precarious edge I was walking on a tightrope with my sanity.

I stood to take a step to her, my wings spread out wide behind me, and I swept the left one forward to nudge her hand.  She looked down at it and slowly took the leading edge and ran it through her fingers.  She stepped closer and followed the wing around to my back, sliding her hand along my wing until she felt where the wing met my shoulder, blending into a bulge in the skin.

My wing rippled, and I pulled away, “That tickles.”

She took one quick step back with shock on her face, “Jesus, they're real!  I thought maybe … you know... but they're real.  You have wings.  How is this possible?”

Again I shook my head and exhaled in exasperation. “I don't know.  You can ask me a thousand times, and I still couldn't answer.  One minute I was running for my life and some psycho was throwing me off the Coit Tower, the next I'm a fucking bird-girl.”

Dorian absently corrected me. “Angel.”

I shot her a glare which she deflected with a cute smile.  I couldn't bring myself to snap at her.  So instead I exhaled loudly again in exasperation.  I had more questions than they did.  This was some sort of perverse nightmare that wouldn't let me wake up.

Hailey furrowed her brow and reached out again.  This time, as her hand contacted my feathers, that wave of disorientation swept over me again, only more localized and focused.  I tried to push it away as I looked up into her face, almost pleading as my head swam.  Her mouth didn't move, but I heard her clear as day like she were standing in an echoing tunnel in some forgotten part of the world and saying into the void, “I wish I knew what was going on here.”

I nodded and shoved it all out of my head as I almost gasped, “You aren't the only one Hai.”

She blinked. “What was that?”

I said, “You're not the only one who wishes that, but I have no answers, only more questions.”

She blinked and stepped back, and asked carefully, in a measured tone, “How did you know I...”

I let out a sound which was a cross between an unhinged laugh and a sob as I said, “Because I've been hearing the wishes of everyone around me since yesterday, before all the madness of the night started.”

Dorian was by my side, concern on her face.

I almost growled, “Those assholes killed my friend, hurt the other and very nearly killed me.”  My voice was rising at each word until it was an almost mad rant.

Dorian looked to her side with a pleading look and then closed her eyes in resignation and whispered, “Asswaffles, not assholes.”  Then she glared at something only she could see while I just reeled in shock over her wording.

Asswaffles?  That was one of Stacy's made up words, I've never heard anyone else use it.  I repeated in a daze, “Asswaffles?  Where did you hear that?”

Dorian looked down at her hands and wouldn't meet my eyes as she shrugged and nudged her head to the side.  “The new girl.  She told me to say it to you.  She was waiting at the coroner's van, looking at her body when we arrived.”

The... new... I looked to the nothingness beside the woman and squeaked out in a barely audible voice, “Stacy?”

Dorian looked more than aggravated like she didn't like causing me any distress.  She exhaled, looking at the ceiling and saying grudgingly, “She says, 'Yeah Drake, sorry bout ruining your birthday.'”  Then she paused and asked brightly, “It's your birthday, Angel?”

My head was spinning.  Was Stacy really there?  I... I mumbled, “I wish I knew what the hell was going on.”  As I said it, voices boomed in on me, threatening to crush me beneath their weight though they were just ghosts of whispers overlapping my voice.  My words seemed to encompass my entire being.

Again, there were thousands of those whispers, in thousands of languages, both male, female, young and old.  All were me, my voice, repeating my words in the past and future, converging on the tone of my syllables to say them in tandem with me.

That's when my screaming began as my head felt as if it were on fire as information bombarded me, filling every recess of my brain.  Tearing at that thin line of sanity I clung onto until nothing remained.  Finally, the screaming stopped as unconsciousness came to claim me, a small mercy but I welcomed it as the world left me in the darkness for a time.

The darkness and nothingness cradled me like a warm blanket, the last sensation that filtered through my awareness were a cloak of feathers engulfing me protectively as my legs gave out beneath me.

***

I don't know how long I stayed in the sacred realm between sleep and waking, where the confusing and terrifying reality of my situation had no place, no hold on my mind.  Wrenching my perception around and showing me stark realities.  I wanted to stay in the unthinking nothingness, struggling to hold onto it so I didn't have to face the real world once I awoke.

But grudgingly, I felt the blessed fog of sleep pulled away from me, and I groaned, reaching up to place a hand on my aching head as my eyes fluttered open.

I was curled into a ball on Hailey's bed, my wings curled tightly around me as I lay in a fetal position, a blanket over me.  My hand rested on the sexy club owner's hand where it rested on my forehead with a cold compress held against my head.

She smiled and said, “There you are.  You had us pretty freaked, darlin'.  You were screaming like someone was shoving hot pokers through your eyes.”

I gave her a weak smile as I lowered my hand into the cocoon of feathers around me.  I groaned out in a hoarse voice, “That's sort of what it felt like.”  Then I looked around in a minor panic.  “Dorian?”

She chuckled as she removed the compress from my head and stood to walk to the little table beside the tiny kitchen area in the space.  “She's fine.  I told her to take a shower while we waited to see if you needed a body bag or if you would recover.  She stunk.”

I felt relieved at that, I'm not entirely sure why.  Well maybe because she sort of saved me, and maybe because I was running low on friends juts about then.  I looked around and asked in a hopeful tone, “Stacy?”  I knew I'd get no answer, but weirder things have happened, I mean, bird-girl, hello.

I heard someone over the sound of the shower running behind the door of the little bathroom of the loft, “She's out there.  I made her sit out there with the others.”  The shower stopped.

I took a deep breath and pondered what it would mean if my schizophrenic savior were not... well, not schizophrenic.  What if she really heard the voices?  What if she could speak with...  I exhaled heavily at the implications.

I thought about the things she seemed to know, like the locations of the men hunting us.  How did she word it?  “They say they are gone now.”  And that Randy “was” a cop.  Was she somehow... speaking with the dead?

The bathroom door opened, and she poked her head out with a towel around herself.  Her dark hair now wet, wavy, and flowing, now that it wasn't snarled and matted to her head.  I blinked, forgetting the immediate dire straits we found ourselves in.  The girl beneath all that grime was... I swallowed as she smiled at me.  Wow.

She turned to our purple haired protector, asking in an accusatory tone, “Where are my clothes?  They're mine, and you can't have them.”

Hai shook her head and said, “Relax street rat.  They reeked, even through the door.  I threw them in the wash.  I left some clothes you can use in there.  They'll be a little big on you, you're small like Angelina here, but your's will be out of the dryer in a few minutes.”

They exchanged narrow-eyed looks like they were daring each other or something.  I exhaled, and snapped at them, “We have better things to be doing than determining who had the bigger dick.”

They both actually looked overly amused at that as Dorian popped back into the bathroom.  I turned to Hailey, who brought a hand up to run her fingers through her thick pixie cut purple locks as she fought off the exhaustion in her stance.  I asked, “Do you have any water?  My throat is scratchy.”

She regarded me a moment as she moved toward the little kitchen area.  “Not surprising, you had screamed your throat raw before you passed out.  What was that all about?”

I opened my mouth to answer as all the information that assaulted me earlier when I made that wish came crashing back down on me.  The door to the bathroom opening again, and Dorian stepping out.  I had to smile.  She was in some black jeans with the cuffs rolled up, and a matching black tee that was tied in a knot at her waist to take up the extra fabric.

She instantly sought out my eyes then seemed to relax.  She smiled and said toward Hailey as she looked down at herself.  “I'm keeping these.”

Hailey stepped back to me, and she started a retort, and I interjected, “Please, don't.  I already have a headache without you two arguing.”

I slid my feet onto the floor as I braced myself on the edge of the bed.  I accepted the glass of water as Dorian stepped over.  I absently raised a wing, and she sat beside me, then my wing draped over her shoulder.

She gave Hai a, “So there look.”

I sighed in exasperation and chastised, “Behave.”

She had the common decency to look sheepish until she looked to empty space beside her and then she snorted at something the voices must have said to her.

I asked as I narrowed my eyes, “What?”

She shook her head, refusing to tell. “Nothing.”

I looked to the empty air beside her and said, “It was Stacy wasn't it?  Some smart ass comment?”

She bit her tongue then said with a shrug,  “Maybe.”  Then to the air, she said, “You're right.”

Then I swallowed and asked what I knew I had already figured out, “They just aren't voices you hear are they Dorian?  They're... you can speak to the dead.  Can't you?”

She looked down at her hands and looked so very small at that moment.  She nodded once then defended, “It's not like I want to.  They just sort of... come to me.”  Then she gave a cheesy grin. “Not all of them are as hot as Stacy here mind you.”

I actually burst out into a nervous giggle and said, “And she won't let you forget that.”

She beamed a smile at me, and I just knew my dead friend had made some sarcastic comment.  I flipped off the air then set the now empty glass of water on the little side table and said with a little reticence and resignation, “I know what's going on.”

Both women froze, eyes on me as I said the impossible, “My family line is cursed.  I'm a fucking Djinn.”

Chapter 5 – Cursed

We moved to the little table as I sifted through the wealth of information my inadvertent wish to know what was going on had given me.  And it chilled me to the bone.  What had happened the prior night was just the beginning of the upcoming shitstorm.

Dori prompted me, “Djinn, kind of like a genie?”

I nodded and admitted, “Exactly like a genie.  That wish I made last night gave me all the information I needed, but there was so much.  I'm still sifting through it.  I don't even know everything I know now.”

Hailey stood and went to the coffeemaker on the little counter. “I take it I'm not getting any sleep anytime soon.  I'm going to need lots of caffeine for this.  I have to be at the police station in just three hours for a deposition.”

Then she growled out to the ceiling, “Genies, killers, talking to the dead... this is all impossible.”

I gave her a sheepish smile, spread my wings wide and shrugged.  This got an unexpected laugh from the woman and she gave an unrestrained smile as she said, “Point taken bird-girl.”

Dorian stood as she asked, “So tell us what you know and how you know it, Angel.”  She started going through the cupboards and refrigerator, setting things on the counter.

Hailey growled, “By all means, help yourself.”

Dori didn't seem put off by her tone as she countered, “Don't get your knickers in a bunch, Action Barbie.  I'm making breakfast for all of us.  I have a bad feeling we're going to need to keep our strength up.”

Then she added, “And I haven't had a full meal in days.”  Her head snapped to the side, and she hissed out, “Shut up Randy, you're dead.  You can't get hungry.”

I couldn't help it.  I chuckled at the absurdity of it all and then leaned back in the chair, my wings draping down the back of it and the pinion feathers brushing the floor.  My wings.  I think they, out of everything that had happened, were what made all of this real to me and not some sick and twisted nightmare.

I paused and asked as I looked around,  “So, ummm... how many ghosts are in here now?”

She cocked her head. “Ghosts?  Huh, I guess they are.  Just the three.  Randy, Robin and now Stacy.  Dan left earlier when he got bored.  Most just hang around with me for a couple weeks, happy to have someone who they can communicate with on this side of life.  But they usually get bored like that and move on.  Randy and Robin are the exceptions, they like trying to tell me what to do all the time, but they're nice enough.  They look out for me.”

She started cooking some eggs and threw some buttered bread onto another pan on the small stove.  “I see others on the street all the time.  I can't keep a job because they are always bothering me and talking to me while I try to work.  Everyone thinks I'm crazy, and maybe I am, how the hell would I know?”

I looked at her then at the feathers at my shoulders.  I wasn't one to cast stones in the crazy farm we seemed to be planted in.

She divided the eggs onto the bread she was browning and slid them onto some paper plates she had pulled out of one of the cupboards and slid the plates in front of us.  It was some sort of scrambled egg open faced sandwich.

Hailey stared at the plate in front of her dubiously and asked, “Who taught you how to cook?”

Dorian moved her chair beside mine and sat, giving me a grin.  Then she picked up her toasted bread with eggs and started eating, saying around a mouthful, “Nobody really.  I sort of cut bait and ran when I was twelve when my parents were trying to get me into some looney bin.”

I hesitated and asked with incredulity in my tone, “You've been on your own since you were twelve?”

She shook her head, seeming nonplused as she took another bite like she hadn't eaten in weeks.  “Not alone.  Randy and Robin and all the others watch out for me.”  She grinned. “They're like my foster-ghosts I guess.”  She shrugged.

Hailey and I exchanged glances.  My God, she was just a kid when she took to the streets.  Nobody has helped her in all that time?  I took a hesitant bite of her creation and blinked in surprise.  It was actually pretty good for something so simple.

It wasn't until I was cleaning the last bits off egg off the plate, realizing how hungry I had been, when Hai pushed her empty plate away from her a bit and leaned back in the chair, saying, “Alright darlin', no more stalling.  Just what the hell is going on here?”

I snorted when Dorian said randomly, “Your hair's purple.” She licked her paper plate clean.  Hailey tried hard not to break her serious scowl but had to look away to smile at our odd companion.

I shook my head at her, threw a wing over her shoulder and closed my eyes to sort through the information in my head.  “It sort of started back twenty-five hundred years ago in Sumeria, with one of my ancestors.  Back when ancient Mesopotamia had become part of the Achaemenid Persian empire.”

I sat back a little in my chair pulling the information from my mind that hadn't been there just hours before, it felt like I was reading from some sort of textbook.  “My family were westerners, from Briton, during their Iron Age.  They were obsessed with gaining power to protect their people from the threat of growing unrest in Europe after the recent overthrow of the Roman monarchy, and beginning of the Republican period.”

I frowned and looked at the two women who were now watching me with rapt attention.  I narrowed my eyes. “Somewhere along their travels, they lost sight of the reasons for their quest.  To protect their people.  By the time rumors of ancient powers in the far off lands of the east reached them, they were obsessed with power for power's sake.  They had lost their way.”

I shook my head. “They made the journey to the lands of Babylon, to beseech the chieftains there to share the secrets of the otherworldly beings that they were rumored to consort with.  When they could not gain the information they sought, they brought war to the region, killing all who withheld the knowledge they desired.”

I exhaled loudly as the slaughter played out in front of me like some chaotic movie that only I was privy to.  “Finally, they came up against a great chieftain, Xerxes, a warlord like no other, who seemed to wield powers that would rival lesser gods.  The battle was long and drawn out.  During a respite between sorties,  Xerxes bade them parle at his tents under a banner of peace.”

I shook my head.  “He asked why they waged war in his lands, and why they sought the power of the demons.  They put forth that it was their right to hold it over others so they would not be challenged.  The man laughed at them and asked if they really wished to meet the greater Djinn, who could grant them their desires.”

I paused and asked my companions, “Were my ancestors total idiots or something?”

I shrugged at the inevitability of what transpired next.  “He brought them to a mountain and spoke a word at the sheer cliffs.  With a clap of thunder, the very stone those cliffs were composed of, cracked open like a gash in the very Earth itself.  They stepped into the crevice and were engulfed by a darkness so profound it made them think twice about the undertaking.”

Dorian shifted in her seat cocking her head as she listened intently.  She noted me looking at her and looked down almost bashfully.  I tilted my head away in embarrassment of being caught, and toward Hai as I described the borrowed memories from eons ago.  “The warlord stopped and told them he could go no further, that the one with the ability to grant them the unlimited power they desired was in a cavern beyond.”

I narrowed my eyes, feeling anger I couldn't quite understand building inside, at the arrogance of my bloodline.  “They ventured into a cavern that was lit by some unknown source, it was magnified and glittered like a million fireflies or the glitter of gems in the sunlight.  It took a moment for them to realize that was more accurate than they could ever have imagined.  They walked between mountains of gems, some the size of a man's fist.”

“They quickly found themselves disoriented and lost their way in a fog which swirled around the great space.  Then a voice boomed out, which chilled them to their very core, because it was all of their voices and all the voices of everyone they had know, living or dead. 'Who comes to feed me their souls?' it asked.”

I shifted uncomfortably at what I described next.  “My ancestors, unsure of themselves, stuttered out who they were and that they sought the power that was rightfully theirs.  It laughed at them, and the sound of it seemed to claw at their very beings.  They tried to turn and run, but they could not get their limbs to obey.”

“In the swirling fog, they got glimpses of a being so very terrible and impossible, with an air of power that threatened to drive them mad.  He looked to be a man, but they somehow knew that it was just a mask the creature wore.  It was something from mankind's deepest nightmares, a temptation so great yet so terrifying, and they were helpless in front of it.  It stank of death and of sweet meadows.  A tempting corruption they were helpless against.”

I growled out, “He had said, 'If it is power you seek, I will give you power unlimited.  But there is a cost.  There is always a cost.'  They readily agreed, their minds filling with the possibilities of striking the same fear and awe into others that this demon had in them.  None would cross their family line.”

I gritted my teeth.  “Those from Xerxes camp heard their screams for days, but they say the most frightening part of it was the moment the screams had suddenly ceased.”

“When the demon was through with the fools who sought him out, he said to them, 'You have what you asked for, now leave me lest I consume what is left of your souls and place them with my other gems.'  That is when they looked around and realized what the mountains of gems truly were, the souls of those who dared enter the man beast's domain.”

“They chanced a single question.  Not feeling any different than when they had entered the chasm, except for the madness of their torture that had eroded their minds as a raw and corrupt power seemed to flow through them like an unrelenting tide. 'We feel no different.  Did we endure your torture for naught?'”

I grimaced as I relayed. “His anger boomed out from him, his patience wearing thin, stripping some of their humanity from them in thousands of voices. 'You have what you desired, you have simply to wish, and it will be.  But do not let your greed guide you and abuse the power, or the price will be exacted.'  They asked what the price was, now afraid of the fact that they hadn't asked before.  He just screamed, 'get out!' at them, sending them tumbling out of the great chasm with the force of it, their ears bleeding from the fetid evil in the tone.  The cliff face closed, swallowing the chasm as if it had never been.”

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair in exasperation, knowing why I was as I was now and hating everything about my ancestors and their greed and drive for power.  “They found that when they wished as the demon had told them, that whatever they wished for became a reality.  The power drove them mad with desire for their every whim, not thinking of the price to be paid as the creature had warned of.  Xerxes seemed to encourage them, humbling himself in front of their great power.  But he knew the beast, for he had bargained away his very soul as well.  It had made him the King of Kings of his land.”

“My ancestors saw the others making more and more sweeping wishes, amassing more power and influence, and one, Synne, saw it as a threat to her own power.  So for her tenth wish, she wished the others dead, so she alone could wield the power of the gods.  To be a virtual goddess among men.  She laughed at how pathetic the rest of her kin were to not have thought of it before she had.  That is when the price was exacted.”

I shook my head at the idiots who thought dealing with a demon was ever a good idea.  “The woman found that her wishes no longer manifested. That is when Xerxes had her seized, and he made a wish of his own.  Synne found herself a conduit to the power, a need inside she could not quell as she used the corrupt energies of the realms of the demons to rearrange the threads of reality, stitching them together to make Xerxes words a reality.  He bound her to his service and prevented her from doing him or his kin harm.”

“He explained that he had a pact with the greater Djinn.  That the creature would provide him with fools to grant his wishes, in exchange for him showing them the way to his lair where he could feed upon their souls.  That each was granted ten wishes of their own which bound them to the Djinn, changing them into one of his kind, a lesser Djinn.”

My voice wavered, knowing this was to be my fate as well if I were tempted to use any more wishes. “Then they would be bound by the first person to voice a wish to them.  They would be forced to be the conduit to grant three wishes to their new master before their life force was stripped of them and gifted to the Djinn for his mountain of lost souls in his lair, trapped in an endless torment that fed the demon's own power.”

I felt a tear roll down my cheek as I said in a hoarse voice, “Xerxes then bound my entire family line in a curse that tied us to his line for eternity.  He wished that we would always have a female child before our power grew inside us enough to manifest.  Then his family would bind us and use their three wishes to amass more power for themselves.  They would always track and watch our progeny, waiting for the moment they could force us to make our own wishes so they can enslave us and make their own.”

My voice cracked. “This way, when we died to pay the price of our greed, there would always be another of our line to take our place, forever cursed.  Our children and their children paying the price for our ancestor's greed and madness.”

I narrowed my eyes and hissed in anger as I looked between the wide-eyed Dorian and angry looking Hailey, “Xerxes line is safe from any retaliatory wishes as his first wish to Synne, was that our Djinn power could not be used against any of his blood.”

I shrugged as I felt another tear roll down my cheek.  “So basically, I'm fucked.”

Dorian pulled my head down to her shoulder, shaking her head and shushing me.  It felt good.  It felt safe.

Hailey brightened. “I don't know if I can believe any of that.  But your wings sort of put the kibosh on any doubts I could possibly voice.  But you've already broken the curse.  So you still have a chance to beat it, hon.”

I looked over at her, hope in my heart. “What do you mean?”

She squinted one eye and turned her head slightly to the side.  “Weeeell, unless I read all your signals wrong, you play on the fairer side of the fence.  And I'm pretty sure it takes a guy somewhere in the mix to make a baby.  So if that part of the curse is broken, maybe the rest is too.”

Then I started laughing without meaning to, and the laugh started changing into a sob.  It wracked my body uncontrollably, and Dorian latched onto me, concern etching her face.  She held me and shushed me and asked, “What is it, Angel?”

I got control over my emotions.  This was a living nightmare.  I found myself terrified, but not for me.  I whispered, “I have a daughter.”

This got both of the women to ask in shocked unison, “What?”

I sat up, moving away from Dorian and wiping my tears on my arm.  “I... when I was younger.  Fifteen.  I was confused.  I didn't understand my own sexuality and tried to prove to myself I was... normal?  I was stupid.  One thing led to another, and I found out I was pregnant, and that I was definitely a lesbian as I found I couldn't connect more than just physically to the boy.”

I fought off another crying jag as I finished, “Nine months later, I gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl.  I was just a child myself, I wouldn't be able to care for a child, being in foster care myself.  I thought that giving her up for adoption was best for the little one.  I didn't even get a chance to hold her, her new parents took her away before I could even say goodbye.”

I sobbed. “I don't even know my baby girl's name.  And now she's going to share this fucking curse with me.”  I pulled myself under control and growled, “I'm never going to wish again.  I'll never let the curse win.  I've already wasted two of the ten.”  I slapped a wing, illustrating the dangers.

Dorian and Hai exchanged a look, and my purple haired savior offered carefully, “Two?  I mean the wings are self-explanatory, though I don't know why you'd wish for wings.”

I shook my head and chuckled sardonically. “It wasn't something I consciously wanted, I was busy falling to my death from where Baldy had thrown me from the Coit Tower.  I wished I could fly and... well...”  I spread my wings, to Dorian's wide eyed delight.  I shivered at her touch as she ran her fingers wonderingly along my feathers.  It felt so sinfully good.

I swallowed and blushed then playfully wrapped my wings around her, with the sound of flapping canvas in the air, as I looked over to Hailey while Dori giggled.  I shrugged and said, “And the second...”  I trailed offhandedly.

She nodded slowly in understanding as she finished for me, “Before you started screaming bloody murder and collapsed, you wished you knew what was going on.”

I nodded as I let Dori out of her feathery prison.  I tapped my head, which was still aching with the worst migraine of my life, as I shrugged and said in resignation, “And now I do.  I don't even know all that was stuffed in here yet.  There is too much on the subject to sift through.”

I said in a whisper, “I can't let this thing win, my daughter is out there somewhere, and I can't put her through this.”

We were all silent for a long moment, at a loss.  Then I asked, “How am I going to live like this?”  I shrugged my wings up in illustration.  Then looked over at the muted television where I watched security footage from the club of me running for the back door, Baldy in pursuit as Hailey kicked some serious ass.  Then I added, “Half the city is looking for me now, and I can't let them find me.  Not like... this.”

Hailey nodded and took charge, much to my relief. “Ok.  First things first.  You need to get out of those clothes, they have blood all over them.”  I paused and looked down at the blood spray on them and swallowed hard.  It was Stacy's blood.  I looked around, she was here now, and I'm sure she knew it was hers as well.

I nodded, and Hai went on. “Take a shower, and I have to get at least a bit of sleep if I have to deal with all the fuckery with the police in a bit.  Then we can figure things out from there.”  Then she got deathly serious as she said in a firm tone, “We'll help you figure this all out, darlin'.”

I nodded, fighting back tears.  Why was knowing I wasn't alone such an immense relief to me?  I started for the bathroom, grabbing the hem of my tank top and started to pull it up before I stopped and ground out, “Son of a bitch.”

The two looked at me with concern as I looked over my shoulder, between my wings.  Dorian asked with that same concern in her voice, “What is it, Angel?”

I looked at them sheepishly and tugged up on my shirt, the bottom tangling with my feathers as I squeaked out in embarrassment.  “How am I supposed to get this shirt off?”

This got a couple of chuckles from the peanut gallery as they stepped up to help.  I felt silly and awkward.  But I guess I fit right in there, not such an odd platypus in our group.  A bird-girl, a ghost magnet, and a purple haired badass who was sexier than anyone her age had a right to be.

Chapter 6 – Stranger In the Mirror

I must have dozed off sitting in the little plush reading chair beside the bed while Hailey slept.  I had a rough time in the shower trying to get clean.  My stupid wings would not cooperate because I was thinking about moving them again.  My damn mental blocks were frustrating as hell.

Eventually, I was able to spread one wing at a time out from behind the shower curtain to wash myself properly.  At one point I was fascinated as I just stared at my alien appendages as the water seemed to bead up and roll off the mottled colored outer feathers, while the down and stark white feathers on the underside got wet and soggy looking.

I sighed and closed my eyes at one point and accused the heavens, “I'm a flippin' bird-girl.”  I mentally flipped off my ancestors for this new level of hell I found myself in.  As if growing up in today's world wasn't hard enough, or the fact your mother committed suicide when you were just a kid, leaving you drifting through the foster care system.

I had staggered under the spray of the warm water in the shower at that particular thought, while the ghost of a memory that was not mine played in my eyes.

A woman who looked like the pictures of my mother, on a train platform, men chasing her.  Then my perspective changed, and I was her, feeling as though all hope was lost, not wanting my daughter to go through this same hell.  I heard a train coming and then smiled at my pursuers as I made a decision and murmured a wish, what I knew to be my tenth and final wish.  Then I just fell backward and let the darkness take me as the train took their prize from them, ending my own torment.

Why had I experienced that?  Was it because of my wish to know what was going on?

I had collapsed to my knees in the spray of water and just stared at nothing in shock and horror.  She hadn't abandoned me because she was selfish like I had thought all these years.  She had done it to protect me and to deny Xerxes line the boon of three wishes.  She denied them the power they pursued and her final wish still echoed in my ears, “I wish my daughter to be hidden from Xerxes and his kin.”

I had felt her experience the same distortion of reality and self which I have experienced when making my two wishes.  I also felt the pain of her free will being stripped away forcibly to be replaced by ironclad chains of sin, to prepare her for servitude for whoever used her as a conduit for their wishes next, as she stepped off the platform into oblivion.

I tried to get my breathing under control and stop myself from hyperventilating.  My anger was rising, and I had no outlet to lash out at.  I swore I'd never use another wish, but they took my mother from me!  I had been alone my entire life because of them, I had no idea who my father was.

I tried to form another wish to wipe out Xerxes descendants, but I couldn't voice it.  Then I growled in frustration, it was one of Xerxes wishes that we lesser Djinn could not use our power against his family.

I exhaled in defeat as I got back to my feet, feeling heavy and emotionally numb, then turned the water off.  I dried off the best I could.  On instinct, I flicked my wings out with an audible snap a couple times to sling the water from them.

A stray thought popped up.  If mother had wished them not to find me, then how did Baldy and crew find me?

Then I stood there stupidly balling my toes on the little shower rug, with a towel wrapped around my chest, staring at the clothes Hailey had left on the counter at the sink.  I peeked my head out the bathroom door, Hailey was asleep, and Dorian was in a deep conversation with someone.  I held up the t-shirt in my hand and looked sheepishly at the overly cute and inquisitive look on Dori's face when she paused in her conversation to look at me.

I asked in embarrassment, “Umm... how am I supposed to get into this?”  I was over these damn wings already.  She just beamed a smile at me and hopped up.  She stepped over and took the shirt and looked at it and my wings.

I held my breath as she reached out.  I tried not to close my eyes and savor her touch when she again laid her hand on a wing and stroked it gently.  Then she seemed to shake her head out of it, and she looked over and said as she blushed, “Shut up Stacy.”

She swallowed then looked back at the shirt, obviously trying to ignore someone.  I knew how my... dead roommate, could be.  And I could imagine what she was saying to the cute mouse woman to make her blush like that.  So I grumbled, “Yeah, shut up Stace.”

Then Dorian looked around and pushed her full, wavy hair back over her shoulder.  What a difference a shower made in the woman, I tried not to follow her with my eyes as she stepped over to the little closet to pull aside the accordion door.

She looked through the clothes, then pulled out a plain white button-up blouse and grinned in triumph.  Ah, brilliant.  Then I squished my mouth to one side in the realization that as long as I had these flappy things on my back, I'd be relegated to wearing only button-up tops.  Inconvenient and more expensive.

I blinked.  How was I supposed to live like this?  How could I finish school?  How could I get a job to pay for the stupid ass shirts, to begin with?

She bobbed her head down and tilted it into my vision to get my attention and pull me out of the spiral I had gotten myself into.  “Arm up Angel.”  She wiggled her eyebrows, and it was my turn to blush.

I snatched the shirt from her hand and stepped back into the bathroom saying, “I can dress myself, thank you very much.”

I almost snorted when I heard her through the door speaking, no doubt to Stacy, “Told you.”

I pulled the jeans on and rolled up the cuffs.  I felt like a child putting on Hailey's things, she was so much taller than me.  Then I put the shirt on, sliding it up my back, under my wings.  The fabric fit awkwardly, bunching up under the point they connected to me.  It wasn't like the oversize neck hole of the tank top which had stretched to accommodated them.

I could button all but the top two buttons, and I looked in the mirror.  I looked silly with the shirt all bunched up in the back like that.  I rolled up the sleeves so it looked like I actually had hands, then I opened the door and stepped out, holding out my arms in helplessness and said to the thoroughly amused brunette.  “Help?”

She chiggled a cross between a chuckle and a giggle.  Then she stepped around me, appraising as she commented, “Only you would ask a crazy woman for help.”

Before I could comment, she was off like a woman on a mission to the little desk by the door to the studio.  She rummaged around on it then opened a small drawer and said “Ah ha!”  She turned and came at me with a pair of gleaming scissors in hand a toothy grin plastered on her face.

I looked around wondering where my old roommate was standing and pleaded with the open air, “Hep me?”

Dorian said in a pleased tone, “She say's you're on your own here, Drake.”  Then she started hacking at the back of the shirt with the scissors.  With each cut, the fabric relaxed until it was sitting around my shoulders comfortably.  I felt guilty that one of Hailey's shirts was being sacrificed for me.

Then I froze as she massaged the point where my wings connected to my back and good lord almighty did it feel divine.  I moaned in pleasure.

She said, “Your muscles are all bunched up here, flying must be quite a strain.  Or in your case, crashing spectacularly from the sky.”

I muttered, “Shut up.”  Hiding my smile as I back flapped, squashing her between my wings.  Then I stepped over to the reading chair by the sleeping Hailey and flopped down, my wings draping over the back of the chair and pooling on the floor behind me.  I noted that my injured wing no longer hurt, though I could feel a dull ache where the bruise was.

I watched Hailey toss and turn fitfully in her sleep, in some night haunt of her own, while Dori went over to speak to someone as she sat on the floor near a corner.

I must have dozed off since I woke to Hailey sitting up in bed.  My eyes fluttered open to the delight of seeing Hailey's smile as my vision cleared from the fog of sleep.  She said, “Hi, gorgeous.”

I blurted awkwardly as I turned my back to her in the chair, “I ruined one of your blouses.  Sorry.”

She chuckled.  “It's ok.  It seems to be the least of the casualties around here, and I'm sure it won't be the last.”

I swallowed hard at that.

She wiped her face with her hands, rubbing the sleep out of herself.  Her purple locks were tousled, and I absently wondered why she wasn't attached to anyone.  I mean, she looked hot even disheveled, her character was top notch, if not a little scary, and she was very protective.  And have you seen that smile?

I turned to see Dorian staring at her appreciatively, and I felt oddly... jealous... of her attention on Hailey.  That feeling was quickly beat back when she turned her dark eyes to me and then winked.  I blushed.

Fucking raccoon farts! I was attracted to her, and when I should be worrying about Billie and trying to salvage what was left of my life.  I tried to reason with myself, that no, it was just because she had saved me the prior night and got me safely to Hailey's.

Hailey braced her arms on the side of the bed and tensed them as she shoved off to stand.  There was a bit of strain like she was in pain as her muscles flexed, but she didn't show it on her face.  Had she gotten hurt in the fight when she took on those men?  I asked, “Are you ok, Hai?”

She turned to me as she rolled her head and cracked her neck as she seemed to work out some kinks.  She rubbed at a shoulder absently and almost smirked.  “Define ok.”  She chuckled then said, “My time in the service was not kind to me, it just takes a minute to get the blood flowing.”

I opened my mouth to ask about the Special Forces tattoo, but she read me like a book and held a hand up to stop me, shaking her head in warning.  Right.  The mystery that was Hailey Frost was to remain so.

She scooped up some clothes from the floor, sniffed them, then threw them over her shoulder.  She said as she headed to the restroom, “I gotta go deal with the police at the station.  We can figure out what we're going to do about you afterward.”

She paused and looked back, apology in her tone, “Sorry, darlin'.  Don't mean to sound so callous.  I'm still trying to absorb it all.”

I shrugged, I knew the feeling.  I was still balancing precariously on the edge of my own sanity.  I was so oddly numb about the situation that knew I was on the way to some sort of massive emotional breakdown in the near future.  One I might not come back from.  So not dwelling on it was the safest thing for me right now.

I said in a small voice, “I want to see Billie.  I need to know she's going to be ok.”

She just held the doorknob to the bathroom door a moment, not looking at me.  Then she nodded once and said, “Give me time to think.  We'll figure something out when I get back from the station.”

I nodded and exhaled.  I knew it was more than I could expect under the circumstances.  She shut the door behind her and a few seconds later I heard the shower start then Hailey blurted out through the door, “Damn it, Drake, you got feathers all over in my shower.”

This got Dorian chiggling again, which just made me smile like a loon.  I told her, “Shut up.”

She flipped me off with a wink.  Then kept her eyes on me as she went back to the kitchen area and started a pot of coffee and got the last of the eggs out.

I was feeling self-conscious and hugged my arms to my shoulders and absently wrapped my wings around myself.  I asked, “What?”

She looked away and concentrated on scrambling the eggs.  She said quietly, “Sorry.  It isn't often I see a girl with honest to goodness wings.”

Then she grinned at the pan where she was over seasoning the eggs, and added, “This doesn't bug you now does it.  Me cooking eggs.  What with you being a bird-girl and all?”

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling, and I threw a balled up sock from the floor at her.  She batted it aside with the spatula.

I pointed around in the air, my finger tracking the whole room and warned my deceased roommate, “You too Stace, I know you're egging her on.”

This time, I saw Dori bite her lip with strain on her face and amusement in her eyes.  Then we both started chuckling when she repeated under her breath, staring at the eggs she was making, “Egging her on...”

I was sort of relieved that I could still laugh, when everything seemed so dark and screwed up in my life at that moment.

Hailey stepped out, dressed in the other outfit, and toweling off her hair.  I averted my eyes when I saw her tattooed abs peeking out from under the teasingly short tee she had on.  She shook her head to make the hair fall into place. Looking a little disheveled but so, her.

She tossed the towel into the pile of clothes by the bathroom door.  That must have been her laundry pile.  Then she narrowed her eyes at Dorian as the dark haired girl scraped some slightly overdone eggs onto three plates.  Dori held a plate out to her.  “Eat, we don't know when you'll have time to next.”

Hailey took the offered plate as Dori said, “We'll need some groceries soon.  You seem out of almost everything but pickles and oatmeal.”

Hai said as she shoveled the eggs into her mouth.  “I don't cook much.”  She nudged her chin to the low table by her bed and all the fast food wrappers all around.

Dorian nodded and said, “Yeah, and the place needs a good cleaning.  You're a slob for a hottie.”

The older woman narrowed her eyes again and said, “You don't need to be here street rat.  I've got Angelina here.  Your being here just makes things more complicated.”

I almost got whiplash over how fast the dark-eyed girl snapped back, “She's mine.  I found her.”  She paused and took a deep calming breath.  That little glimpse into how close her... gifts... had pushed her grasp on reality to the edge shone through, and it was a little heartbreaking.  She quieted and looked down at her eggs before lifting a huge bite with her fork.  She spoke softly around her chewing,  “Where Angel goes, I go.”

Then she looked over to the former soldier and said almost as a dare, “Besides.  I can be... helpful.”  She stared at the window and said, “Stacy says the bald asswaffle has driven past the building a couple times this morning.  They are looking for Angel.”

Hailey nodded and seemed to grudgingly accept her presence even if she seemed dubious of all the spirit talk.

She exhaled and put on a short leather jacket that just accentuated her assets and amplified those teasing glimpses at her abs.

She started toward the door and paused.  She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a folding knife and tossed it onto the counter and then pulled what looked like a set of brass knuckles from the other and placed them by the knife.

She gave us a wicked smile and then stepped out of the studio, saying as she shut the door behind her, “Back in a flash.  Keep away from the windows.”

I quickly locked the deadbolt after her.

Then without a word, Dorian took the now empty plate from my hands and started actually washing the dishes.  I felt sort of guilty so I started gathering the food wrappers from everywhere and tidying the space up.  It sort of felt cathartic, doing something as normal and domestic as that.  Keeping my mind off of what was likely to come.

I had a sneaking suspicion that it was Dorian's intent since she seemed a little smug and wouldn't meet my eyes as we cleaned.

***

A couple hours later, we heard someone coming up the stairs, the locks rattling as someone unlocked them, Hailey called out, “Just me girls.”  I relaxed, not realizing just how tense the sound had made me.  I noted my wings were half spread like I was ready to dart away at any moment.  I growled internally, knowing that I got more than just wings, knowing now with certainty that my fight or flight balance was all fucked up now.

Our purple haired protector froze when she was half way through the door with some bags in her hands.  She blinked and asked in an accusing tone, “What did you two do?”

Dori shrugged and said like she was explaining something to a child, “We cleaned up this pigsty.”

She seemed to deflate and stepped in, kicking the door shut absently with the side of her foot.  She said in a dejected tone, “But, everything was just how I liked it.”

Dorian just stepped up to her, nonplussed, and took the bags from Hailey, who didn't protest.  As she rooted through the bags, she admonished our host, “I live on the streets and my place is more organized than yours was.”

Hailed exhaled, looking like a beat puppy as she looked around.  Then she said, “I think we can get you in to see Willamina.”

Willamina?  Then my eyes shot wide.  That was Billie's name?  She would never say.  How did Hailey... Ah, it was probably best I didn't ask.

Dorian grinned in triumph and held up a box of hair dye, saying, “Ah ha!”

Hailey squinted an eye in apology as she asked, “You're not attached to your gorgeous long hair are you?”

I blinked in understanding and joked lamely, “Not necessarily, but it seems to be attached to me.”

Dori pulled stepped over to grab the scissors from the desk and snipped them in the air with the glee of a mad scientist, muttering, “Not for long.”

I glanced over to where the maniacal woman seemed to be sharing a smile with someone and I pleaded, “Help?”

Dor said, “She's not helping you out of this one, Angel.  Let me put away the groceries and we can work on your mop.”  She glanced down at the dye and smiled. “Raven black.  Inspired.”

I swallowed.

Then imagined the bizarre contrast. Black hair and white wings.  That got me thinking again as I looked over my shoulder to said wings.  But they seemed to retreat from me and turned back as I turned.  I almost growled and tried not to think about them and was able to get one to move back in view.  I was starting to gain some conscious control it seemed.

I asked, “What about these?  I'm a freak.”

Hailey snagged another bag from the counter and grinned.  “I have an idea about that.  She held up an extremely wide roll of Ace bandages, the type used to bind chests of people with broken ribs.  And a black sweat jacket and some oversize shirts.

She asked, “Kyphosis anyone?”

I blinked, she knew the medical term for hunchbacks.  She was full of surprises.  But I realized that this was about the only way to hide away my wings.  To bind them to me, and pass the deformation on my back off as some sort of kyphosis or scoliosis.  It could actually work.

But with half the county looking for me, thinking me to be another victim of the attackers, would even black hair be enough to disguise me?

I looked at her and asked, “How did things go down at the station?”

She exhaled loudly and shook her head, saying, “They aren't going to press charges against me for killing the men.  There are more than enough witnesses and my own surveillance video showing I came to your and Billie's aid. Good Samaritan laws and all.  The second man was self-defense.  I'm just glad I used my registered shotgun and not any of my other toys.”

Other toys?  I looked around before I could stop the action.  We hadn't come across anything like that when we cleaned.  But then again this was a big building, why would she keep the implied weapons in her room?  Why would a club owner need weapons anyway?

I answered myself when she shrugged out of the leather jacket and almost tossed it to the chair before Dorian's scolding look made her hang it on the hook by the door.  The motion pulling up her short sleeve a little revealing her Special Forces tattoo again.  Right.  You can take the girl out of the service, but you couldn't take the service out of the girl.

Then I resigned myself as the two woman came at me like otters to a ball pit.

An hour and a half later I was just staring at myself in the mirror in the bathroom, with two satisfied looking women admiring their handiwork.

I had to blink at the stranger there.  My now short cropped black hair was so shiny it reflected the overhead lights and the little sunlight filtering in through the frosted window high in the wall.  My brilliant violet eyes were so very odd to see.  I had never worn color contacts before, and they were making my eyes water a bit, but I never realized how fundamental our eyes are to our external identity until that moment.

But the most striking thing that changed my appearance, at least in my eyes, were the henna tattoos.   Hailey had drawn twisting vines tangled with fishnet going down the left side of my face, snaking down the neck and disappearing under the neckline of the new forest green blouse I wore.  They seemingly reappeared out of the sleeve at my wrist where they exploded into a set of wings on the back of my hand.

With my wings bound tight to my back, causing me to sweat, I looked like some sort of co-ed emo who was trying to draw the attention away from her obvious deformity.

I looked sort of, I don't know... dangerous?  Even though they couldn't completely do away with what Stace called my girl next door factor.  I knew it was true since I looked like somebody's kid sister trying to look edgy, but it worked.  I doubt my old foster parents would have recognized me if I walked into their living room.

Before they bound my uncooperative wings for me, I had spread them wide for effect with my new look.  Hailey had smirked with a glint of something undefinable in her eyes, and Dorian fanned her face and sighed audibly, causing me to blush into the seventh dimension.

Hailey cocked her head and said, “Ok.  Let's see if we can't get in to check on Willamina.”

I was in higher spirits and said to her as I took one last look at the stranger in the mirror.  “You do know that she'll try to kick your ass for calling her that, special forces or not.”

The grin she shot back was full of amusement as she asked, “Why do you think I do it?”

We stepped back into the studio, and our purple haired guardian held up a hand and said, “Hang on a moment.”  She snagged a belt that looked like a bunch of little silver shields laced together and wrapped it around my waist to hang low off my hip.

I squinted my eyes, did I look like a fashion diva or something?  She grinned at my reaction and stepped closer, causing me to step back, bumping my back against the wall as her grin became a smile as she reached for the belt buckle.

I swallowed hard, and I swear Dori was growling.

Then with a smooth movement, the woman who was heating up the room to unbearable levels with her closeness to me grabbed the belt buckle and pulled up,  it came apart, and a little blade slid out with the half of the buckle now in her hand.

She stepped back, allowing my libido and me to breathe again.  Good lord.

Then she offered a blade to me.  It looked like the top of the buckle formed a little t-handle for the small blade.  I took it, swallowing as the heat in me died down a bit, and I looked at it as she said, “If someone is hunting you.  You need to be able to defend yourself, darlin'.  Don't go anywhere unarmed.  That's a punching knife, it is better than nothing and can be concealed easily.”

She looked over to Dorian and pulled the folding knife from her jeans and tossed it to her.  “You too, street rat.  If you insist on tagging along with our girl, you should be armed with something other than a clipboard.”

Dori caught the knife with both hands and then gave a grin that was so toothy, I wondered if she had swallowed a shark when we weren't looking.  She said, “Then I won't be needing this.”  She reached under her shirt and slid out a big butcher's knife.  Where the hell did she get that?

Hai growled, “That's mine.”

My brunette companion shrugged and slid the smaller knife into her pocket.  The woman beside me bristled, and I saw her arm muscles flexing as she huffed in restrained anger.  Then as she turned away from Dori, I caught the slight smile on her face which betrayed her tough act as she started toward the door, snagging the hoodie she had brought me along the way.

She said, “Shall we, ladies?  We need to get back before this afternoon when my people come in to start setting up for the night.  I called some repairmen earlier, to patch the wall in the back hall and clean up the...”

She paused before she finished the sentence.  I couldn't say it either.  The blood.

Before we stepped out into the back alley, Dorian laid her hand on Hailey's arm to stop her from opening the door.

The two did not mix.  Oil and water they were, but Dori wasn't intimidated by her and for some reason that made me smile.  My mousy savior told her.  “Just hold on for a moment.  Let my friends check things out.  What good are invisible friends if you can't shamelessly exploit them?”

Then she added to thin air, “Oh shut up Stacy.”

I chuckled, imagining the lip my friend was giving her.

Dorian looked expectantly toward the door and just stared expectantly.

Then I staggered again, the now familiar disorientation washing over me in a wave as the whispers and wishes of those around me threatened to overwhelm me.  I felt the burning need to do something, to help with the snippets of wishes that seemed to come at me from all around.

I knew exactly where each person was in relation to me.  It seemed to stretch out for a mile or so around me, fading into whispers too distant to make out.  “I wish mommy didn't have cancer.”  “I wish I could afford a new TV.”  “I wish I had Julie's confidence.”  “I wish I didn't hate myself.”

I gasped as the wave passed, leaving me back with my friends.  I realized to my horror that I was getting used to it.  I was still on my feet, and I had barely swayed in the current of whatever godforsaken power was inside me against my will as it tried to reach out to the voices.

I glanced over to Dorian, who had a steadying hand on my shoulder, a concerned look on her face.  I shook my head and assured them both, “Just another of those wish waves.”

That's what it felt like, like waves lapping up on the beach.  Maybe when the number of people around me making wishes reached critical mass, they broke out into a wave like that, and that was what I was feeling.

I remembered hearing Hailey's unspoken wish last night when we had touched and wondered if that was a fluke or if...  I placed my hand on Dorian's.  Nothing.  Then I heated up as she grasped my hand and lowered her's from my shoulder, keeping mine in hers.

I winced as my bruised wing tried to drape over her shoulders from its binding.  The pain made me realize how quickly I had gotten used to doing that with her.

She smiled but then turned from me, distracted, and she nodded and said, “Ok.”  Then to Hailey she said, “They say they are two blocks out, sweeping back up the hill toward Coit Tower.  It's clear.”

Hailey shook her head, a lock of purple falling across her eyes and she pushed the back door open, holding it for Dori and she pulled me out by my hand.  Hailey closed the door, making sure it automatically locked then she grinned at us.

I was curious what kind of car she drove.  She turned to a covered area in the alley, that had two heavy steel doors.  It was the type of cubbyhole restaurants and clubs used to put their dumpsters in so that people didn't try dumping their own trash in the dumpster without permission, filling them up.

I actually squeaked and chuckled when she pulled the doors open, steel hinges groaning in protest, to reveal a sleek black Harley with a matching sidecar.  Oh hell, could Hai get any sexier?

She handed me the hoodie, and I pulled it on and zipped it up as she rolled the bike out into the alley.  I glanced around, taking in the area.  It was a pretty typical alley and looked just as dank and dirty as it had been in the dark.

I oofed as a helmet was thrust into my belly and I had to let go of Dori's hand to catch it before it fell.  Hailey put on her own helmet.  A black one that when the light hit it just right, revealed that it was actually a purple so dark and deep that it simply looked black.

She dug in the sidecar and pulled out a beat up skull cap style white helmet that had a yellow smiley face sticker plastered on it.  She handed it to Dori, tongue in cheek, saying, “Safety first.”

Dorian said as she held up her middle finger an inch from Hailey's nose and deadpanning, “This is my middle finger in case you can't see it clearly.”

Again, I caught the smile as Hailey looked away from her, acting aloof.  She said almost like she was snapping out orders, “Angel, with me.  Sidekick, in the sidecar.”

I smiled at the two as I put my helmet on.  It matched Hai's but was actually shiny black like my hair.  I sort of liked the new look and wondered if I'd want to go back to my dirty blonde after all this.  If I survived all this.

Dori said, “I'm not the sidekick, you are, Suzy come lately.”  Then she added like they were just discussing the weather while she got into the sidecar while Hai smoothly mounted the bike, “Head west toward the coast then loop around toward the Bay, that will keep us off their radar.”

Hailey nodded once as she kicked down solidly, bringing the metal beast between her legs to life.  I awkwardly mounted up behind her and timidly placed my hands on her hips.  She shook her head without looking back and grabbed one of my hands at a time and pulled them firmly around her waist so that I was almost hugging her from behind.

Then moments later, we were screaming down the alley and out onto the streets, heading west.  After a few blocks, I let go of Hailey and spread my arms wide, letting the wind blow past them.  I felt my wings straining against the binding, wanting to be free.  I felt the exhilaration of flying again for the second time.  Only this time it was without my wings, and it made me feel so free, so alive.

I whooped, and Hai glanced back for a second with a crooked smile on my face.  I almost snorted when I glanced over to see Dorian almost pouting with her arms crossed over her chest as she sat in the sidecar with that silly smiley helmet on.

I reached a hand over as I wrapped my other back around Hailey's waist.  Dori broke into a smile as she reached out to take my hand.  It just felt natural.

I felt, I don't know, safe?  With the two of them there with me.

Then I sighed in disappointment as we pulled into the hospital's parking lot.  The ride was over.

Dorian was pulling her helmet quickly off.  “We need to get inside fast.  They say one of the men from the cars last night is walking around the hospital.  I think they know you'll try to see Billie.”

Chapter 7 – Billie

We stowed the helmets in the sidecar and hustled inside.  I whispered to Dorian, “How do they know?  We just got here.”

She looked like she wanted to roll her eyes but restrained herself as she said, “They went ahead to scout it out.”

Ok, now that was intriguing.  I had so many questions that had to wait until we had time and weren't being hunted by a crazy power hungry family.  Like, how did they get there before us? Can they fly?  Or can they just pop to different locations instantly, like some sort of ghostly teleportation?

Then I thought of something.  People died every day.  Were there millions, if not billions of ghosts in the world then?  She seemed to only talk to Randy, Robin, and Stacy.  I whispered to Dor as Hailey led us through the hospital toward the ICU wing, “Are there, you know, others around that can keep watch on Billie?  I mean, people die every day, there must be as many as the living in the city, right?”

She shook her head and said, “It doesn't work like that.  I still just think I'm crazy, but you have me questioning it with Stacy here.  Only those who died violent and senseless deaths leave a psychic imprint behind.”

She looked haunted.  Well, I guess she was.  She said, “When they realize I can talk to them, they hang around with me until they get bored and move on.  Only Randy and Robin have been with me since we met.”  She nudged her chin forward, indicating where they must have been.

The hospital was busy as always with lots of people wandering the halls.  I kept my head down, feeling as if everyone could see right through my disguise and someone would blurt out at any moment, “Here's the girl the entire city is looking for!”  It didn't happen, though.

As we approached the nurses desk, I saw a uniformed police officer standing by a door down the hall.  I knew without asking that that was where my friend was.  How in the hell were we supposed to get in?

Hailey brought us to stand beside the corridor, in the wide spot at an intersection where the nurse's station was.  She motioned for us to stay as she walked away and toward one of the many nurses on duty.

She spoke loud enough for her voice to carry but not quite loud enough to be overly obnoxious, “I'm here to see Willamina Beaumont.  I'm Hailey Frost, the one who saved her and wanted to see how she is.”

This got the police officer to push away from the wall he was leaning his shoulder against.  Billie's name pulling his attention.  He eyed Hailey as the nurse told her that only family members and hospital staff were allowed in Billie's room.  That's when our purple haired badass started to get animated, raising her voice a notch, but not enough to sound threatening.  “Oh, come on, you can make an exception for me, can't you.  I feel sort of responsible for her, you know, saving her and all.”

The nurse started to argue in a calm and measured tone that it was a police matter, if not hospital policy.  Hailey's voice went up again, with a frosty tone.  “Let me speak to the supervisor.”

The woman straightened, and said, “I am the supervisor.  Are we going to need to call security ma'am?  I understand your desire to see the girl, but it just isn't possible, and it is against hospital policy.”

The word security is what seemed to make the decision for the young officer by the door.  He straightened his belt and stepped past us to the nurse's station.  “Excuse me ladies, is there a problem here?”

Hailey glared at the man and said to him, thrusting her chest forward, “You're damn right there's a problem.  This woman won't let me check on the girl I saved last night.”  She was absently shooing us with one hand as she distracted the officer by pointing accusingly at the nurse.

I almost snorted, the cop was trying hard not to look at her chest she had puffed up like a prize chicken at the county fair.  Dorian clasped my hand and dragged me down the hall, and we slipped into the room the officer had been guarding.

I stopped dead at the sight before me and my breath caught.  There was my roommate, laying on the bed by the wall.  Half of her head was bandaged, her rich black hair shaved off and her face looked so swollen and purple and sickly yellow bruises shown through her dark chocolate skin, bandages in a few places on her other exposed skin.  She looked as though she had been dragged through a meat grinder or wood chipper but lived to tell the tale.  There were so many IVs and electrode leads hooked up to her.

I covered my mouth to prevent from making a distressed sound.  I raced to her side and looked down at her.  She seemed so... small?  Frail?  She had always been so strong and full of life.

I grabbed the clipboard hanging off the heart monitor and skimmed over it as I checked the monitors and the IVs.  Months of training kicking in.  She had a subdural hematoma, intracranial hemorrhaging from blunt force trauma.  Open and basal fractures.  One eye had fixed, unilateral mydriasis... a blown pupil.  Various contusions and abrasions.

I paused when I reached some notes from the doctor that looked little more than chicken scratching,  but I made out that she was conscious and aware.

I flipped through the chart to medications, they currently had her under mild sedation and on some pretty hefty pain killers.  I covered a mouth as I fought back tears.  That was an encouraging sign.  I released the chart and grabbed Billie's hand and gave it a squeeze in mild relief.

I heard her voice in my head, whispering in a thousand tones, “I wish the world would stop spinning.”  I almost pulled my hand away from her's.  The need to do something was almost overwhelming.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she groggily turned her head toward me, wincing and slowing down.  I patted her hand whispering, “Take it easy Bil, go slow.”

She stared blankly at me a moment, one eye blood red.  I saw no recognition in her expression, just confusion.  Then her eyes went wide, and she asked in a slurred, drugged out drawl, “Angel?  Damn girl, you look hawt.”

I felt a tear escape my watery eyes and roll down a cheek as I smiled softly at her.  I just nodded dumbly and said, “Yeah, it's me.”

She looked around at the monitors and IV trees and said, “I done got fucked up.”  She gave a crooked smile.

Then she looked panicked as she asked, “Stacy?”

I just grabbed her hand between both of mine and shook my head solemnly.  She closed her eyes and sobbed just once, trying to pull herself under control, fighting the medications, but failing.

Her good eye fixed on the deformity on my back and then Dorian standing at my side.  She whispered to me, likely thinking in her drug induced fog, that if she spoke quiet enough, Dori wouldn't hear, “Are you ok, Angel?  Your back.  Who's this?”

I smiled.  Here she was, laid up in the hospital with serious head injuries, and she was worried about me?  I loved my friends so much.  I shook my head.  “I'm fine Bil.  This is my friend, Dorian.  She sort of saved me after those guys came after me.”

She grinned. Obviously, the drugs were doing their job there in loopy land, she lifted a hand weakly and spoke behind it to me,  “And she's a cutie.  You two... you know?  Boom a chick a bow wow?”

I blushed from head to toe as I blurted out, “Billie!” I covered my mouth over my outburst and Dori, and I swung our gazes to the door, holding our breaths.  We could hear Hailey's voice raising yet again.  That was an obvious signal, time to go.

I leaned down and kissed Billie's cheek. “We gotta go, I can't explain now, but I'll be back.  I promise.”

Billie was under the thrall of her meds already, as she just smiled sleepily, her eyes closed as she started drifting off again.  Dorian asked the air as we reached the door, “Stacy?”  We stood there a moment then she smiled and nodded thanks to thin air and opened the door.  We snuck back out into the hall, then walked as normally as possible past the nurses station.

When Hai saw us pass by, she suddenly smiled at the two who were arguing with her and said amiably, “Well the rules are the rules I guess.  Have a great day you two.”  She turned to follow us, leaving two thoroughly confused people in her wake.

I had to bite back an inappropriate chuckle.

We navigated the twists and turns of the corridors in the sprawling hospital complex, making our way back toward the bike.  Hailey's eyes were scanning everything, they didn't seem to stop moving.

Dorian froze for a moment when a man in a dark suit stopped in a corridor crossing and looked around.  She whispered, “Robin says that's the guy.”

His eyes stopped their scan of the area and rested on Hailey.  Of course.  They hadn't seen Dorian yet, and I looked nothing like myself at that particular moment.

He looked from her, to us and squinted his eyes, then raised his wrist to his mouth and said something then started walking toward us as Hai gently nudged me back.

Hailey said calmly, “Keep going, I'll meet you at the bike.”

I glanced back as Dorian, and I backtracked.  The man was trying to act casual as he approached, his hand going slowly toward his jacket.  He was staring at Hailey and us, obviously trying to piece things together.

It was like something out of an action movie as soon as the two reached each other.  All pretenses were gone as his hand shot into his jacket reveling a shoulder holster, Hailey's hands were a blur as she spun backward, slapping his hand aside before he could grasp the grip of the gun he was reaching for.

Then they exchanged a flurry of blows and shin kicks.

Our protector, and a man almost twice her size, seemed evenly matched as people in the halls started yelling and moving away from the two.  I caught a glimpse of Hailey stepping past the man after ducking a blow and clotheslining the big guy as we turned down another hall.  Sending him snapping backwards and slamming down onto the floor

I absently wondered why he attacked her in broad daylight like that if they thought she knew where I was...  I paused.  He had probably been planning to threaten her with whatever weapon he had, kept it mostly hidden and led her out of the hospital.  He apparently hadn't got the memo about how well trained she was.

By the time we found our way out of the maze, we had come around the side of the building to the parking lot to see Hailey jumping on the bike and starting it up.  She scanned the area, and her eyes locked on us with laser focus, and she drove quickly toward us, engine roaring.

Dorian looked at me with a goofy grin. “Ok, even I have to admit.  That was kind of hot.”

I grinned at her, and we piled onto the bike when Hailey stopped, prompting urgently, “Come on ladies.  Let's go, let's go.”  Then we were off, turning down the first alley we came to as we fumbled with our helmets.

Chapter 8 – Hunted

We got back to the club and dismounted.  Hailey was cussing under her breath.  “We won't have much time until the police are on my ass again.”

I understood that since purple isn't a real common hair color, and she had made that scene at the nurse's station with the officer, so it wasn't like she can deny it was her.  And leaving the scene of an altercation is a crime.  Not a serious one, but still, after the woman killed two people the prior night, the authorities are going to get all up in her life now.

Well, not serious unless...

I asked the question that had been on my mind since the hospital as she jammed her helmet into the sidecar after Dorian hopped out, “Is he...”

She cocked an eyebrow at me, then all the anger and frustration seemed to just evaporate as she gave me a crooked smile.  “Dead?  No.  Though he was trying really hard not to give me a choice about it.  He was well trained.  Men like that cost a pretty penny, especially ones who aren't afraid to operate out in the open, in public like that.  This Xerxes family must have the bankroll of kings.”

I shrugged.  “They've had centuries of wishes to make sure of it.”

She nodded and exhaled as she reached past me to pull the doors shut on the little bike stable, reiterating, “No, he'll pull through, though he's going to be out of the picture for the near future.”

I relaxed, exhaling slowly.  I don't know why, but I was relieved she hadn't killed another man on my account.  Not that I particularly cared about men who had killed one of my friends and put the other in the ICU, but for what it did to Hailey.

She may be badass, but I could see the weight of the world on her when we had spoken about the prior night.  Killing someone isn't something you can take lightly, nor that you can take back.  I'm quite sure it wasn't high up on her own to-do list.

She wiped her palms on her tight jeans and Dori glared at her hands, I followed her gaze and winced.  Hailey's knuckles were bruised and raw looking.

She ignored our looks and said as she unlocked the alley door. “We have to get you to a more secure place.  I don't think the man at the hospital made you, but we know they are watching me now.”

Then she added quietly as she held the door open for us all to step into the club, “And most likely your friends and family.”

I winced then reminded her as we walked into the main club, where there were a couple people setting up and I heard a power saw back by the restrooms, “No family to watch.  Stacy and Billie were the closest things I had to it.”

I paused a moment at that, again struck with the surrealistic fact that Stacy had been violently taken from us.  Dorian placed a hand on my shoulder and assured me, “Stacy feels the same.”  I smiled to the air.

Then Hai broke us out of it by saying in a calm but firm tone, “You can't go back to any place you frequented, there is no telling how long they had been tracking you.  So school, job, restaurants, even grocery stores...”

I nodded understanding and mumbled, “My life was over the moment I made that first wish.  I can't go back to anyplace where people knew me anyway.  There's no way to explain how I suddenly had a deformity on my back.  They succeeded in killing Angelina Drake, whether I had actually died or not.”

The club owner nodded at one of the men setting up tables for later that day when they would open their doors.  The man nodded back.  She was doing a great job keeping her face schooled and acting like everything was normal.  We reached the stairs and started climbing as Dori slipped her hand into mine and gave it a little squeeze and said, “I don't think killing you was ever in the equation.  I'm pretty sure they are just supposed to harass you, to get you to use up your wishes in panic.”

I felt my bruised wing strain in its binding in an attempt to wrap around her.  Hailey said as we reached the second floor to hold the door of the studio open for us.  “As much as I hate to agree with the street rat on anything.  She's right, gorgeous.”

Dori growled back at her, “Don't make me pull out my middle finger again.  I'll do it.”

Hailey smiled at her after she passed, then added, “If all of this is true, which there is undeniable evidence on your back... and in my shower.  Then they are trying to get you to exhaust your wishes so they can control you and use your power.”

Then she said in the frosty tone of someone who could leave violence and destruction in her wake, “Then they'll do the same to your daughter when she comes of age, darlin'.”

That, more than anything, made me almost stumble and gasp like someone had struck me in the gut.  I knew she was right.  Just by having my daughter, I had condemned her to the same fate as myself without even knowing.  And now I couldn't even protect her, not knowing where she was.

I had tried to convince myself every day that I had made the right decision for my baby girl.  That I couldn't take care of her and give her the life she deserved.  The guilt drove me to help others when I got older.  That's why I wanted to become a nurse.  A part of me knew I'd never make up for the fact that I had given my child up.  I didn't even know her name.  In my head, I had called her Isabel.

I turned to the girls and said in a hoarse voice, “You have to find her when I'm gone.”

Hailey just studied me for a moment, then gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Dorian pushed me away from her a bit and said in an almost disgusted tone, “You two are acting like Xerxes' spawn have already won.  Fuck that.  Angel, you'll beat this.”  She glared at Hailey when she said that, then added to her, “And Terminator, I wouldn't think you'd be one to quit.”

They seemed to stare each other down.  My short savior not shying away from the taller, more dangerous woman.  Dori didn't seem to have any fear, she was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.  To my chagrin, I had to admit, it was kind of sexy.

I stepped between them... again, and said in exasperation, “Measure your dicks later girls, the more pressing issue is, what are we going to do now?”

This got a toothy grin from the violet haired vixen.  Then she said, “Well the first thing is we need to find a safe-house for you while I deal with the shit-storm that is going to rain down on me from the authorities for the next few hours.  If they are watching me, then keeping you here isn't safe.”

Dorian nodded and said with a smile to me, “I have a place we can stash her.”

I smiled back, then she stiffened and ran to the window.  We glanced up at her as she peeked through the blinds.  She said, “We have to go.  Now.  They must have figured out that was you with muscles here, at the hospital.”

We joined her at the window and peeked out.  Hailey cussed, “Shit.”  There were three SUVs across the street with at least seven men crossing through traffic toward the club.  We heard a door being kicked in below.

She growled and stepped back two steps and grabbed a string with a ball hanging from the ceiling and pulled.  An attic style ladder swung down, a lethal looking tactical shotgun was Velcroed to the ladder.  It looked like the one she had used the prior night.

She grabbed it checked it over as we heard heavy footsteps coming quickly up the stairs.  She swung her eyes to the door then growled again.

She stepped toward the sound, weapon raised and said to us without moving her attention from the door, “That leads to the roof.”

She finally turned her eyes to Dorian for just an instant and said, “Get our Angel out of here.  I have to make sure my people downstairs are ok.”

Dori was already dragging me by my hand to the ladder, she paused and said to our purple haired protector, who had her ear pressed to the door, “The old Regency building.”

They shared a nod, and we were scurrying up the ladder.  As I was swallowed by darkness above, I saw Hai yank her door open and slam the butt of her shotgun into the nose of the man who was charging up the stairs.

I swallowed and doubled my pace, worry for the woman sitting in the pit of my stomach like a stone.  Hell, Angelina, if anyone can take care of themselves, it's Hailey Frost.  I winced when the first shots rang out.

I turned my eyes away as blinding daylight flooded the darkness when Dor pushed open a roof access hatch at the top of the ladder.  It's rusty old hinges screeched with protest then the hatch cover flopped back and thudded onto the roof.

There was nothing but silence below, As Dorian scrambled out and offered a hand down to me I cringed and winced when a few rounds of automatic gunfire rang out, followed by the thunderous boom of the shotgun.

We stood there on the roof, looking around.  It was one of those hot tar roofs with that silver membrane over it.  We saw some skylights, vents, and air handling units speckling the surface.  Then I pointed and said, “Over there.”  Then we were running to the top of the rusted iron fire escape ladder with it's railing curving up and over the roof parapet to fasten to the roof itself.

We looked down and pulled back when we saw two men rapidly climbing the fire escape toward us.  They shouted something unintelligible as we pulled back.  Another boom of the shotgun echoed from below, and I could hear sirens approaching in the distance. Fuckity fuck!

We looked around, there was no other way down, and it was at least a thirty-foot drop to the pavement below.  We ran back to the edge of the roof by the alley and looked down.  I swallowed and shared a look with Dori.  She nodded, and I stripped off my jacket and started unbuttoning my blouse.

Then I grabbed the little knife in my belt buckle and hacked away the bandages.  I felt a little self-conscious being in front of the smiling brown eyed girl with only my bra on.  I spread my wings and slid the blouse back up, fastening a single button.

I looked down and at Dori as I said, “I don't know if I can even do this.”

She motioned her chin to the man who had just come up over the parapet to start running at us, drawing a gun, then she said, “We don't have any other options here.”  She gave a toothy grin and held her arms out like she was waiting for a hug.

I shook my head at her.  How was she so calm and how could she smile like that?  I spread my wings wider and just dove into her arms, wrapping mine around her as she clung on for dear life as my momentum pulled us both over the edge.

Let me tell you, I thought for sure we were going to die when we started spiraling almost out of control toward the alley floor, or at least get seriously hurt.  That was not the time to learn that my wings could carry me just fine, but the weight of an additional person was too much for them to bear.

I stained and angled them trying hard to flap on pure instinct.  They caught the wind from our plummet, and I heaved them downward against the drag of our weight slowing our descent.  It all happened in the space of maybe a second and a half, but it felt like forever.  I was able to slow us to the speed of a dead run as we started to level out.

I managed to squeak, “Hang on!”  I was just able to wrap my wings around her as I twisted us around and I took the brunt of the impact as we slammed into the side of a dumpster.  I would have found it almost laughable that my only two landings were crash landings in alleyways if the wind hadn't been knocked out of me.  My back and ribs felt like they were on fire and my hearing was buzzing.  My headache was worse, bordering on a migraine, I realized I had hit my head pretty hard on the corner of that dumpster.

With my luck the past twenty-four hours, I wouldn't be surprised if I had a concussion just then.  I shook my head to clear it and almost screamed at the searing pain that felt like needles being shoved through my eyes.  Wrong thing to do Angelina.

I took a deep breath, no new pains joined the aches in my back.  That was good, no broken ribs then.  I rolled to the side a bit, unwrapping my wings from my cargo.  A stunned Dorian blinked at me then smiled cutely.  “You can't land for shit can you, Angel?”

I snorted and winced at the pain it caused.  I flapped a wing across her face, rolling her off of me as I said while trying to hide my smile, “Shut up.  I've only had these things for a day.”

She nodded as she rolled to her feet, offering her hand to me.  I took it, and she helped me up.  “Looks like you can't carry much weight with you.”

I nodded at her sage observation.  “Great catch, Captain Obvious.”

Her smile was momentarily traded out for a pensive look as she seemed to be listening to something.  She nodded and looked up.   A moment later the men had arrived at the roof's edge above to look down.  They were talking into their sleeves as one aimed his gun down at us and started firing.

I whipped a wing over Dori like a palm leaf, obscuring her from above as she grabbed my hand and started dragging me down the alley, away from the sirens of the arriving police and emergency vehicles.

We slid to a stop when Baldy stepped out into the mouth of the alley we were charging toward.  They were hunting us in a pack, herding us the direction they wanted.

He flicked his hand, and a collapsable baton snicked out as a smile seemed to crack his craggy features.  I saw recognition in his eyes.

Well, of course, my disguise wasn't going to fool him with a pair of fucking wings on my back.  How many bird-girls could possibly be running around San Francisco?  Well... let me rephrase that since there are some pretty umm... unique people here and I wouldn't be surprised if there weren't some girls out there walking around in angel costumes.  How many actual bird-girls could there be out there?

The man above stopped shooting.  And Dori grabbed a trash can lid and tossed it at Baldy like a Frisbee as he approached.  He knocked it aside, barely slowing.  She said to me, “Run, Angel.  I got the man mountain here.”

I squinted at her, I snapped in anger, “I'm not leaving you here alone.”

She yelled back at me, a growl in her voice, “I'm not alone, remember?  I'm harder to catch than you think.  So... RUN!”

I stared at her incredulously as she grabbed another trash can lid.  She had no fear.  I huffed, “Graaaah!”  Then I turned away from her, laying a hand on her shoulder momentarily and then I started running the opposite way down the alley, spreading my wings.

With two great flaps, my feet missed the ground in mid-stride, and I was airborne.  My instincts taking over as two other men appeared behind Baldy, firing their guns at me as I flapped and swooped upward, twisting in the air.

I couldn't let the police see me so I twisted up and over the roofs, heading away.  I caught a glimpse of Hailey on her knees in front of the club with her hands behind her head as the police swarmed the place.  Some heading toward the alley, drawn by the shooting.

I banked hard to get a view of Dorian.  She was ducking under a swing of Baldy's baton and then she jammed the metal lid into his gut and rolled away.  It barely slowed him, but she was quicker that any of us had anticipated, and she vaulted over a can, pulling it down behind her to slow the men.  The police would get her as soon as they rounded the corner, but she would be safe.

I should have known better than to jinx it with that thought.  Just as I had finished thinking it, Baldy tossed his baton cross-hand, sending it spinning toward Dori and striking her legs, and her feet got tangled up, and she went down.

I hissed in frustration as Baldy reached her and yanked her to her feet by her arm, twisting it behind her back as he scanned the sky, looking for me.

I banked sharply to keep the walls of the alley blocking his view of me.  I couldn't let them take her, they didn't care if she lived or died, Stacy and Billie were proof of that.  My heart ached at my decision.  I growled out to myself as I swooped low to the roof, gaining speed as I headed back to the alley, “It's Dor, Angelina.”  Just how the hell had I become so attached to the... Mouse, in such a short time?

I spun in the air as I pulled my wings in tight to myself as I barrel rolled.  My forward momentum converting into a downward drop as my angle of attack sharpened almost exponentially.  Just before I struck the wall, I snapped my wings out fully as I twisted in the air.

They again sounded like a canvas sail whupping as it caught the wind and I ran my feet along the wall for two steps to absorb the last of my momentum and pushing off with my feet in the opposite direction.

I curled my wings in, adjust my fall slightly to come down directly at Baldy as his cronies spotted me and started firing.  I realized they couldn't be that bad of shots, then I realized they were shooting at my wings as I cringed when a feather was torn out after being struck.  They didn't want to kill me, they wanted me to make a wish.

Everything seemed to slow down as Baldy started to crane his neck around to look up in the direction his men were shooting.  His eyes went wide as I saw a smirk forming on Dorian's face as she just dropped, dangling by her arm in his hands.

If I hit at that speed, I'd kill him and me, so I unfurled my wings once again and could feel one wingtip brushing the wall as I slowed marginally right before I tucked them back in, whipping my feet forward and slamming into Baldy's face in another spectacular crash landing.

I twisted an ankle as it was wrenched to the side, glancing off his upturned face, but my left heel planted squarely on his nose, and we tumbled down in a heap.  He lost his grip on Dorian, and she quickly rolled away.  I yelled, “Run Dori!”

She complied as I rolled to my feet and took a couple limping steps and flapped hard as Baldy tried to scramble to his feet, blood covering his face and streaming out of his flattened nose.  I felt proud I had broken it so well.

I took to the air as I glanced back to see Dori dive into the cycle coral as the police rounded the corner.  How had she known they were coming.  Oh... I sent out a silent thanks to Stacy.  Then I glurked and squawked as something grabbed my injured ankle and yanked me down.  My face met the pavement with extreme prejudice, I heard a hollow thunk as my skull bounced off of the unforgiving surface, causing my head to feel as if it was about to explode.

I had been careless and misjudged, one of Baldy's men had managed to snag me before I could fly off.

I could barely hear the gunshots that followed as the men exchanged fire with the police.  The world was tunneling around me as I felt my conciseness fading while motes of light seemed to float around in my vision.

I was dimly aware of Baldy throwing me over a shoulder and heading away from the firefight.

Well fuck.  At least Dori would be safe now, and I knew where Hailey was.  I absently apologized to her for pulling her into this mess as the darkness folded around me and took the pain away.

Chapter 9 – Xerxes

I don't know how long I was out, and when I started coming to, I decided I would rather have still been unconscious.  My migraine made the lights wherever I was, feel like icepicks to my brain as I tried to open my eyes.

I blinked an inordinate amount, trying to get used to the light and push away the pain in my head.  As I slowly succeeded, I thought again, maybe I shouldn't have since I could feel all the aches and pains in my body.  I felt stiff.  My entire body ached, and my muscles all felt knotted.  My back and wings hurt bad, but not as bad as my face and head.

I had black hair hanging in my eyes, was there someone else here with me?  Oh wait, I had black hair now.  Then everything came rushing back to me when I tried to raise my hand to brush the errant hair from my eyes but found that my hands were bound.

I glanced around in a panic.  I was in a plain white room that reminded me oddly of a hospital room.  It was sterile and white.  My wings ached so much it was almost debilitating.  I looked to my sides to see I was laying on a table, and my wings were spread out on two matching tables with a spike through each wing!  Railroad spikes.  The bastards had me pinned like a butterfly in some sort of sick parody of an entomologist's bug collection.

My hands were bound in front of me, and the thin, rough rope was tied to another loop that wrapped around my back so I couldn't raise my arms.

My feet were free, but I couldn't get off the table, as I was held firmly by the spikes through the flesh of my wings leading edges.  Or were they through the light but strong bones in them?  That thought scared me more than anything.  They were... my wings.  They didn't have the right to desecrate them like that.

I strained my wings, trying to pull them forward and pull the metal spikes out.  I bit back a scream from the new fire that threatened to consume me, radiating from my wings when the spikes that held me down didn't move, but my wings slipped a little higher on the spikes, causing them to saw at me as the irregular surface of the metal slid along the bone.

I gasped and tried not to hyperventilate as I relaxed to catch my breath.  At least one question had been answered, the spikes were through the flesh and muscle, not the bone.  That was actually good.  If they had gone through the bone, it could cause fat embolus, where the bone marrow seeps into the blood and could cause various serious complications, such as severe lung problems, and seizures.

Sometimes I hate being a nursing student and knowing that stuff.

I stopped to reason that through.  They wanted me alive so they could use me like a wishing slot machine slave until I was used up and dead.  So they were making sure not to terminally damage me.

I thought about using one of my wishes to just get myself out of there and doing to Baldy what he had done to Stacy.  But I couldn't bring myself to do it for a couple reasons.

The fact that I wasn't a cold-blooded killer came to mind, and using my wishes is what they wanted me to do.  I just don't think Baldy knows that if I didn't actually have a conscience, his life would have already been forfeit.  I'd lay money on the fact that the Xerxes family didn't brief him on my powers.  He seemed to think his employer was simply a nut case.

The other reason that it would be so very easy for me to make another wish using a third of the ten I could grant myself.  Bringing myself one step closer to enslavement and death.  It would get easier and easier to make... 'just one more' wish.

No, I needed to get myself out of here some way.  I glanced around trying to see if there was anything around that could help me.  But the room was pretty spartan.  A closed cabinet by the door painted white like the rest of the room.  A drop tile ceiling with those glaring fluorescent lights that just aggravated my headache.  I was so tired of that damn headache.

Set high in the wall farthest from the plain white door, there was a thin strip of windows running the length of the room.  They were only about four inches tall, not big enough for a person to slip out of.  I could see a concrete curb just a few inches from them.  Ok, so I knew I was in some sort of basement then.  How does that help me?  The answer, it didn't.  I was so screwed there.

I tried manipulating the ropes, twisting my hands to try to get to the knots, but every motion just seemed to tighten them.  Did they have some sort of fricking sailor on the payroll doing these damn knots?  My panic was rising.  I hated that my fight or flight sense had been heightened since this started, it was just making it that much harder to think.

Every motion set a new wave of pains though my stiff and sore muscles but I tried twisting this way and that, trying to get the ropes to loosen or to feel out any weaknesses.  I exhaled in exasperation, they had me pretty much dead to rights.

I tried pulling my wings up again and let out a whimpering gasp in pain when I was rewarded with that burning agony once again.  I had been so distracted by that pain and the sound of my anguished outburst that I hadn't heard the door.

I almost jumped when a familiar deep voice said, “Good, you're awake.”  I whipped my head over to the sound of Baldy's voice and immediately regretted it as the stabbing pain went through my head.  I closed my eyes for a moment and cursed myself as I felt a tear rolling down my cheek.  This bastard didn't need to see me crying.

I opened my eyes and focused on the man.  I tried not to smile at his crooked and obviously broken nose, and the bruises that accompanied it.  He was studying me in a detached, clinical manner as he lifted a plastic toolbox he was carrying and dropped it unceremoniously on the table beside me.  He asked, “Let's get to work then shall we?”

I hissed at him, “What, you're seriously that cliché?  You're going to unveil your array of torture devices now?”  I attempted to hide the waver in my voice as my panic started to rise.

He smiled almost cruelly, his dark grey eyes darkening even more as he said in a voice someone uses with a misbehaving child, “Nothing so literary.  This is just the tool box from the car.”  He opened the lid and pulled out a pair of pliers.

He tested them and smiled at me. “It is amazing just how many everyday items can inflict staggering pain. A pity really, those wings of yours are fascinating.”

He turned his eyes back to me and said like it was perfectly reasonable as he took a step over to one of my wings and reached out a hand to caress the leading edge.  I tried to pull back from his touch as he said, “Now make a wish Miss Drake.”

I screamed when a white hot, debilitating pain shot through me, as I heard a cracking sound of bone as he grabbed the tip of my wing with the pliers and twisted violently.

Tears were flowing down my cheeks freely as my scream ended with me out of breath, my mouth still forming the scream as I tried to inhale.  I was afraid I wasn't going to succeed when I finally was able to suck in a ragged breath.

I growled out in anger, frustration, and pain as I swung my legs up and kicked him in the back of the head.  He stumbled forward and onto the table, across my wing.  He looked at my legs as I got ready to strike out again.  He just reached down and jammed the pliers into the flesh of my wing, and I screamed again.  My legs dropping as I tried to twist away from the pain.

He growled at me, “That, was unpleasant.  Don't do that again.  I've never had such problems with any of my contracts, and that makes me a little agitated.”

He pulled out some rope from the box.  It was like the type which had my hands bound, and he went about roughly binding my legs and tying them back to connect with the other at my back, ropes cutting into my ankles.  I was hobbled.

He looked satisfied then grabbed the pliers again and started back to my wing.  “I don't know how you are able to change yourself like this with a wish.  It is something out of a science fiction show, and I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't witnessed it myself.”  He touched my wing, and I flinched it back as far as I could.

Then he grabbed the wing roughly to stop me from twitching it. “But my employer wants you to keep doing whatever you did.  I don't enjoy hurting you, so why don't you make it easy on yourself and make a wish?”  There was a lie in his voice, I could tell that he enjoyed visiting pain on those he saw as weaker than him.  I saw people just like that all the time as I grew up without my mom.

I tried to sound strong as I hissed, “Fuck you!”  But it sounded more like it came from a scared child.  Shaky and pathetic.

He sighed, shook his head, and I was again screaming.  I felt panicked and helpless, I could actually feel my heart thudding in my chest like it was trying to escape.  I found it harder and harder to hold my head up and my vision was tunneling.  He stopped what he was doing, shifted over and patted my cheek. “No, don't pass out yet Miss Drake.  First, make a wish.  Change yourself again.”

I chuckled through my tears and asked in a wavering voice, “You don't know what is happening, do you?  Your 'employer' is keeping you in the dark.  The wishes don't just change me.  I could wish for anything, even your death.  Or did he fail to mention that?”

He paused a moment, squinting his eyes, considering my words.  A mix of disbelief and suspicion on his furrowed brow.  He looked at my wings then back at me.  I had him questioning things.  He finally slowly started to turn back to his work with the now bloody pliers.

I had had enough, I couldn't take that kind of pain again.  I started to yell, “I wish...”  And his hand clamped over my mouth.  I saw a glint of fear in them.  Now he believed me, and he knew I was at a breaking point.  It seems the cold and calculating mercenary had a strong survival instinct after all.

The tremors inside me that had started as I began my wish subsided along with the echoes of the various voices that were all the various versions of me.  I felt a need inside that gnawed at me to finish the wish, it was an almost overwhelming compulsion that faded as the many whispers of my own voice faded.

Then I felt a wave of nausea as I heard Baldy's voice in my head, “I wish I knew what that old fuck has gotten me into.  Can the girl really kill me with a wish?”  I stopped struggling and smiled into his hand as I locked eyes with him and I nodded once.  His eyes widened a bit before he schooled his expression.  He knew I had heard his unspoken wish and responded.

I could see a million calculations going through his head in his eyes.  He held the pliers toward my face and warned, “Just one peep, Miss Drake.  Things could get very unpleasant.”

He pulled his hand from my mouth and grabbed a dirty shop rag from the toolbox and stuffed it into my mouth.  I just breathed through my nose, ignoring the awful taste of oil and grease, clearing my head from the new pains he had introduced me to.  And I felt like... less... I had thought that I'd be brave and strong through something like this, but he and I knew the truth, he had broken me in less than a minute with the pain.  I was going to make a wish, anything, to make the pain stop.  I felt like less than nothing with that realization.

He just stood there looking at my wings, then me, then the door.  Calculating.  I knew he was most likely weighing the money he had been paid for the contract against the possibility I could visit something on him worse than death with just a word.

Then his eyes narrowed as someone entered the room.  I couldn't see who it was as Baldy's bulk was in the way.  The man asked in his low baritone, “Is it true?  Could she have...”

Then a voice that chilled me to the very core of my being cut him off, “Mr. Kanton, I will take it from here.  I'll need you and your men to make sure I am not disturbed.”

Kanton hesitated a moment, then set the pliers down on the table and stepped past the man who couldn't possibly be here.  I swallowed as the mercenary closed the door behind him after he left, leaving me lying there staring in stunned silence at Xerxes.

He was older than the middle-aged man in the memories my inadvertent wish had forced upon me, but it was the same man, not a distant relative, I was positive of that, his voice had struck a tone within me that scared me more than the torture Baldy had visited on me.

He removed the rag from my mouth and turned his attention to my wings.  Of course, he wasn't afraid of me making a wish since they couldn't harm him.

I finally found my voice as the man continued to study me with detached curiosity, and I whispered, “Xerxes?  How?”

He cocked an eyebrow at my recognition, his middle eastern features showing more wrinkles than in my memories and his long dark hair now had more grey than anything.  I'd say he was more like sixty or so than forty.  How was he still alive?

He rubbed hid chin with hands which had knobby knuckles that showed classic signs of advanced arthritis.  But even so, I could still see the dangerous and formidable warlord in his posture and movements.  He was still someone you didn't turn your back on unless you were supremely stupid.

Then he nodded and said in his accented English, “So, you made another wish then.”  He seemed amused at that.  Then he nodded. “Yes.  As you say, in the flesh?”  He held a hand in front of himself, studying it as he flexed his fingers. “Such as it is.”

Then he sighed and looked back toward me and said like it was perfectly reasonable, “Your mother cost me so much.”

I was still shocked that a man who lived thousands of years ago was standing there in front of me before the comment about my mother could sink in.  I asked before I could stop myself.  “But how?  How are you still alive?”

Then I rolled my eyes at my naivety and answered my own question. “A wish.”

He took a swift step forward, a hint of madness smoldering like a spark in the depths of his dark eyes.  “Not a wish.  Many wishes.”  He made a derisive sound and looked at me. “Come now, girl.  If you know of me, you must have wasted a wish on the knowledge.  You know the four limitations of your power.”

I growled at the man who had me pinned there on the tables, “I don't know what you...”  I winced as more memories flooded into my head unbidden.  The sensation did nothing for my migraine, the lights hurt even more.  Then I just knew.  No fanfare or pretenses, I just knew what he was talking about.

For all the seemingly limitless demonic power us Djinn possessed, there were still things we could not do, aside from wishes that would take more power than we possessed to accomplish, like world peace.

We could not grant a wish for someone to fall in love, it was cliché, but love was a greater force than us, and it also had something to do with free will.  The more a wish affected a person's free will, the less effective the outcome, but especially when love was involved.  Lust, though, that was a different story.

The second limitation was that we could not raise the dead.  When their energy, or soul, was separated from their physical form for more than a few minutes, that connection was severed completely, and it would take the powers of creation itself to join the two back together again.

The third was that we could not change the past, only the power of the gods could do that since time is linear, and it would defy the laws of creation to alter it.  I must admit that I had briefly thought about making a wish that my ancestors had never sought power, but I was afraid that it might mean I had never been born so I didn't.  Now I know it wouldn't have worked anyway.

And the last restriction... I looked at the man and narrowed my eyes.  The last restriction was that we could not grant immortality to others.  To others?  Could I grant it to myself?  But I knew, that I would not age until I had used my ten wishes, and then until the one I am bound to, the one closest to me who makes the next wish, had received the boon of three wishes from me.

Of course, not aging didn't mean I couldn't still die from mortal, mundane means if I were not careful.  But if I was careful, I could live to see the sun burn out in the heavens if only I didn't make any more wishes.  That was beyond frightening to me for some reason, instead of encouraging.

I studied the man in front of me as he seemed to have lost interest in my self-revelations while he chuckled at my wings.  He said in an amused tone, “What could possibly have prompted you to wish for these?  Some sort of angel complex?”

I wondered out loud,  “But, how?  We can't grant immortality.”

At that, he spun more quickly than someone of his apparent age should have been able to and he placed his face next to mine.  He poked my forehead a couple times with one of his bony fingers, “Of course not.  Think girl!”

Then he moved back and smiled. “No, you cannot grant me what should be rightfully mine, but you can grant me the boon of youth.  Every couple decades since your pathetic ancestors made a deal with my Lord, the greater Djinn that has been my first wish after I forced them to waste their own trying to survive.”

Then he wandered to the end of my bloody wingtip and said in a voice full of venom, a fire in his eyes, “Aging each time before my vitality could be restored.  But your cur of a mother...”  He roughly twisted my wingtip, I could feel the splintered bone there from where Kanton had tortured me.

I screamed as white-hot lances of pain wracked my body.  I panted and gasped as he released me.  He slid back up to me, face to face again as he hissed, “She made her final wish which somehow obscured you from me, from us.  My kin has followed your line since the beginning, but she made whatever infernal wish it was, prior to taking her own life before I could make my first wish to bind her to my will.”

He pulled back from me to look at his hands again. “I was physically in my late forties again at that time.  And I have had to watch as my body has aged to this over the last seventeen years after we lost track of you.”

Then he chuckled. “For the longest time, that infernal wish vexed us.  No matter what we did, we couldn't track you.  I was panicking as you were nearing the age where your power would manifest, the day you considered yourself an adult, and we had no clue where you might be.  Then by chance, we happened upon a loophole in her wish.  It must have been directed toward my family line, because when we finally broke down last year and hired a slew of private investigators to hunt down my 'long lost orphaned granddaughter' we got multiple results almost immediately.”

He laughed almost cruelly at that. “She was a crafty one, your bitch of a mother.  My family could not find you but anyone else could.  So we had you watched, and waited until you came of age.  Then I sent Mr. Kanton to harass you and force you to waste your wishes.”

He gave me a sadistic grin and prompted, “So make this easy on yourself, make a wish to be free.  Now that we know how to track you.”

I shook my head.

He said in an almost amused tone, “I must say, though, you show more restraint than most.  I expected the mercenary to be dead or worse by now.  They unusually are.  But they are disposable.  It is amazing how many of the unsavory crawl out of the woodwork to do my bidding if I wave enough gold and baubles under their noses.  I have plenty more to take Kanton's place.”

I understood power corrupts and this man seemed to have lost his very humanity, he was using men as fodder, just collateral damage.  He didn't seem to value human life in any way.  And from the sound of it, he has done this for centuries.

He shrugged and said, “It is no matter now.  Once you have exhausted your wishes, I will have my youth and vitality back.”

Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Then I'll watch your daughter finish growing up before enslaving her to my will when her power blossoms too.”

I heard an animalistic growling and realized it was coming from me.  I slammed my head to the side as violently as I could, ramming my forehead against his nose.  I heard a crack and crunching of cartilage and Xerxes staggered back with his hands covering his face, blood gushing between his fingers.

I smirked, the forehead is the hardest bone in the body, as strong as concrete.  I was happy to share that little factoid with him in a show and tell manner like that.

He growled out in rage and grabbed the pliers from the table where Baldy had left them and slammed them down on my wingtip.

I screamed and felt my body pushed beyond its capacity to process the pain, in a defensive action it felt the only logical response was for me to pass out, letting the darkness take all the pain away for me.

I think I was smiling as the flare of the pain faded with my awareness.  I had finally found my strength, finding the real me.  I wouldn't break again, now that I had something to fight for.  Something that mattered.  I couldn't fight for me, but I could fight for the daughter I didn't deserve, the little girl who didn't deserve my fate.  I felt my self-respect, which was stolen from me minutes before, return with a vengeance.  It filled me and ignited a fire inside me as hot as the surface of the sun.

Chapter 10 – Moonwalking

When I awoke again, I felt all the pain returning, but my ears were ringing, and I realized I was having another episode.  I squirmed against my bonds desperate with the need to do something about the thousands upon thousands of wishes bombarding me.  “I wish I had a puppy.”  “I wish Lance would catch something from the bitch he's cheating on me with.” “I wish Angel knew we were coming.”

I snapped to full awareness at that one, pushing the wishes that threatened to consume my entire being aside.  It had been Hailey making that wish.  I almost laughed hysterically at the realization she had done it on purpose.  She was sending me a message.  She must be out of jail, and she and Dorian were coming for me.

I exhaled and realized I was vertical, my feet were still bound, but my hands were free now.  I looked at myself.  The bastards had those railroad spikes pinning my wings wide and flat against the wall.  The spikes were just out of my reach, I'm sure it was on purpose, leaving my hands free but unable to free myself.  False hope.

I looked down, and my ankles were bound together, and the rope went to the floor and was tied to another spike driven into the floor.  I strained against it, but the effort stretched my wings and caused searing pain to almost double that damn migraine.  I was going to invest in a pain killer factory if I survived this.

I took a moment to examine the room.  The entire space was empty now, the tables had been taken away, and all there was to see was the shiny white linoleum floor and the white walls.  On the wall opposite me was a message which was smeared in what could only have been blood.  “Make a wish.”  I wasn't going to do that.  No matter what it cost me, no matter how long Xerxes kept me.  With luck, he'd be dead of old age by the time my daughter came into her power.

What had he said about mine?  When I considered myself an adult.  I had wondered why my power manifested on my twenty first birthday.  It couldn't have been twenty one for all my ancestors since centuries ago, even fifteen was sometimes considered an adult.  It was when I myself believed I was an adult.  Our modern culture put a number to that.  Our twenty first birthday.

I smirked at the blood, realizing it must have been from the broken nose I gave the old bastard.  I wanted to dance at that.  Now I've broken both of their noses.  It was most likely the last victory I was ever going to have.  I felt a moment of silliness so shimmied in a dance anyway.  I knew it was either that or let the hysteria which was lurking and looming like a specter in my mind, take me.

I noted that it was dark out.  How long had I been unconscious?  The artificial orange-ish light, like that of a distant streetlight just barely illuminated the alley beyond.  I wondered where we were since my screams hadn't brought anyone in the area to look around.  It must be somewhere where there weren't any people around or worse, where Xerxes owned the entire area.

There was absolutely nothing in the room I could use even if I managed to somehow get free.  Wait.  I glanced down at my waist, to the belt buckle with the concealed knife.  I placed my hand on it then paused, releasing it.  What good would it do me?  It wasn't like I could reach the ropes at my ankles.  It was best I didn't let the bastard know I had a weapon just yet.

I'm sure I would have been tempted eventually to use a wish to escape after all, but I knew now that Hailey and Dori were looking for me.  I paled.  What if they get caught by Xerxes' goons or worse?  Come on Angelina, pull it together, you know the trap that the wishes can become, a crutch, an easy out.  The old bastard is counting on that.  He's had centuries of practical experience manipulating my ancestors into that same trap.

I heard the door locks turning, and I closed my eyes and let my head drop.  One of the hinges squeaked slightly in protest telling me the door had opened.  Kanton's voice said blandly, “She's still out.”

Then Xerxes almost growled out in a now nasally tone which had me fighting hard not to smile at, “Really?”

I heard footsteps then my eyes snapped wide open as I was screaming.  Red hot needles of pain shot up my wing and down to my back, making my shoulders spasm, trying to flap away from the source of the pain.

I swung my head to look at his hand as he released my injured wingtip.  He sneered at me, which looked ridiculous with the twin black eyes he was sporting, and the white bandages taped across his nose.  His sneer vanished when he saw my smirk.  Then he grabbed the end pinion feather on my wing and yanked hard, pulling it from me.  I hissed in pain.

I don't know how many hours passed as he introduced me to ways of feeling pain that were lost to the world millennia before.  Those same millennia he had been alive.  Well, maybe it had only been minutes, not hours.  I wasn't really trying to track the time as I just concentrated on the pain, letting it fuel my defiance and anger.  This bastard wasn't going to do the same to my daughter.

I think it was my smirk that drove him to get more and more creative.  My head was just hanging limply down on my chest as he grabbed my chin to pull my head up to look at me.  I smirked again.  He huffed out an exasperated breath, and I swayed, and my vision swam as I heard him almost screaming in my head though he didn't verbally say it, “I wish she would break already!  This is getting tedious!”  He dropped my head, and it lolled to my chest again.

I shook it hard to get his voice out, and the need it imparted in me to help grant the wish.  I was instantly rewarded by my migraine sending white hot needles into my eyes.  That cleared my head right away.

I really hated that it seemed I heard someone's deepest wish when they touched me.  I didn't want to know their desires.  It was like being a voyeur into their private thoughts that I should never be privy to.  And some, like his were dark and disturbing.

I thought for a moment about that.  I had heard everyone's wish at one point or another when they touched me since this all began the other morning.  All except Dorian.  She had touched me, and I had always seemed to be in contact with her as often as possible, draping my wings over her.  Smiling at her awesome smiling face.  But never once did I hear her wishes.  Was it the ghost thing, or something else?

I looked up as I heard the man pacing away.  He growled at Baldy as he passed him to leave the room, “Feed her, hydrate her, and let her rest, then we'll begin again in a couple hours.  She'll be no good to me dead.”

My stomach gurgled at the mention of food.  How long had it been since I ate?  Dori's eggs.  I realized to my chagrin that I hadn't used the restroom since then either, and the thought made me have to go.  Shit, they'd never let me down, I'd wind up having to embarrass myself further when I couldn't hold it anymore.

Baldy just nodded, shut the door behind his employer, and stepped up to me.  He started checking the ropes on my ankles, and as I gazed blankly over is back, I caught motion to the side.  I turned my head to see some feet through the narrow windows, walking along.

No, not walking.  It was more like strutting, in a dancelike rhythm.  Then once they got to the far side of the windows, they started moonwalking back to the other side again.  I almost barked out a surprised burst of laughter at the absurdity of it but was able to stop myself.

Then my heart started beating faster, and I restrained my excitement as Dorian hung her head upside down in the window, with a silly grin on her face, her dark hair hanging down and she gave a goofy wave.  Her eyes narrowed and darkened as she took in my appearance.  I don't think I could describe the look adequately.  To me, it looked like someone who was not normally aggressive had made a decision to visit unspeakable violence upon someone.  It made my heart flutter.

She seemed to steel herself, then crouched so I could see her.  She cupped large imaginary breasts in front of her and then flipped off the air and then held up five fingers.  With that, she ran off.  Dear lord, I had always been bad at charades, but she was simply terrible.  Ok, I got the reference to Hailey.  But five?  Five what?  Five minutes, five hours, five beers?

My question answered itself when there was a loud crashing sound coming from the opposite end of the building.  Ah, five seconds.  Men started shouting, and I heard automatic weapons fire.

Kanton stood up quickly and turned slightly toward the door, speaking into his cuff while pressing his other hand on his ear.  “Status report.  What's going on out there?”

He was standing so close I could just make out men yelling in his earpiece.  Kanton growled out, “McCain, report.”

There was some static then a female voice that made me smile responded, “I'm sorry, but McCain isn't with us anymore.”  Then there was a squelching sound that made Kanton tear the earbud out as he cursed, “Fuck.”

He swung his weapon from his back as he looked at me and growled, “Just who the hell is that woman?”  He turned his attention to the door as he placed a hand on my chest like he was making sure I stayed in place.  He was going to make a hostage of me if he needed to.

I smiled at the back of his head as my hand absently went to my belt buckle as I said, “She's my bartender.”  It was now or never.  I knew if I made my move now, it was going to mean so very much pain, but it couldn't be worse than what Xerxes had introduced me to.  I was used to the pain now.

I yanked my wings forward as suddenly and violently as I could.  One swift motion, and I screamed as flesh gave way, tearing as I pulled my feathered appendages off the spikes.  They arched forward like white blurs in the artificial light of the room and slammed into both sides of Kanton's neck as he started to spin toward me.

I had meant to strike both of his carotid arteries, hoping the sudden interruption of blood flow to his brain would knock him out.  But he twisted faster than I though he could.  I lucked out though as the heavy leading edge of my left wing struck his throat solidly.

He stumbled back, tripping over his own feet and falling onto the floor, gasping and grasping at his neck as I fell to the ground.  I broke my fall with my hands and wings.  I winced when my wingtip hit the floor.

I was immediately sawing at the ropes on my legs with the little knife.  I made short work of them and then rolled out of the way as Kanton reached for me, slowly getting his breathing back to normal.  I swung the little knife and left a bloody trail along his arm.

I ran to the door, slashing at the man's neck as I passed by.  Again he was faster than me.  My attempt to slash his neck missed as he twisted away, but I left another gash along his cheek and across an eye, just barely missing it.

It struck me at that moment that I was ready to kill the man, and I wondered if that made me less of a person at that moment.  But anger replaced that thought because it was him and Xerxes that had pressed me so far that I would even consider it.  I think I lost a piece of my humanity at that moment, knowing that I had learned the lesson of kill or be killed, and I mourned for that last piece of innocence lost to me.

I would do anything to make sure my daughter would never go through this.  I paused, was this what my mother was thinking?  I had thought her so selfish as I grew up, being shuffled from foster home to foster home.

I researched my family at one time while I was in high school, after being put in my third home.   My father was listed as a John Doe, and all I could find on mom's family is that her mother had vanished when she was twenty-three and was presumed dead.  Mom's birth certificate didn't list a father.

Of course, I hadn't seen it then, but I see it as clear as day now.  The curse... because that's what it truly was, a curse in more ways than one.  I knew now that if I dug deeper, I would find a similar trend stretching back across time as far as there were written records.

It seems that we only had a life to ourselves for around twenty years, or until we considered ourselves adults.  Two short decades before the power inside of us woke up on the Earth's next orbit around the sun.  I wondered why twenty-one years until Xerxes words had clued me in.

And why always a daughter?  Why not a son?  I searched out the new knowledge in my head for that answer but found nothing.  I guess even in all this insanity, there were still some unanswered mysteries that even the Djinn magic inside of me didn't know.

I sorted through this line of thought in less than a heartbeat then shoved it aside since I had more pressing matters at that moment.  I grabbed Kanton's weapon, which had skittered across the floor when he fell and swung it at him as he scrambled after me, one hand covering the bleeding gash on his face.

He dropped his hand and just smiled smugly as he started moving slowly toward me.  “Give it up girl.  You don't even know how to use that weapon.  Save yourself the embarrassment, the safety is on anyway.”  The blood flowing down his face and dripping off his lips made a gruesome counterpoint to the slight tick of his lips.  He was nervous.

I swallowed, preparing to run but then held the gun barrel up toward him, and he slowed.  He was too cautious.  I let my mouth turn up into a sneer as I asked, “Is that so?”  I swung the barrel slightly to his left and pulled the trigger.

It sounded like a deafening burp as the weapon slung fire in the closed space.  The barrel whipped upwards, I wasn't prepared for the recoil that almost ripped it out of my grip.  By the time I let go of the trigger less than a second later, it must have fired five or six rounds.  I blinked as he froze.  My ears were ringing, which didn't help my headache any.  But I swung the barrel back toward him and braced my arms better as he held his hands toward me, palms out in a calming gesture.

I have to admit, that for just an instant, which felt more like an eternity to me, I contemplated pulling the trigger, I even felt my finger tightening on it.  It wasn't like he didn't deserve it.  The bastard had killed Stacy.  He had tortured me.  I glanced at my damaged and bleeding wings.  I didn't want them, but they were mine and seeing the blood all over the feathers and clotting in the wounds made me so inexplicably angry.

But I couldn't kill anyone in cold blood.  That wasn't who Angelina Drake was.

I glanced between him and the door.  It was a storage room style lock, where the deadbolt was keyed on both sides.  In this case, I ventured that it was more like a cell lock.  In the time it took me to look at him and the door and back, he had moved half the distance toward me.  I shoved the barrel of the gun forward, and he held up his hands and stopped.

I said in a cold voice, virtually devoid of humanity, “Keys.”

He reached to his side where he had a keyring hanging from a clip on his belt and unclipped them and threw them to me.  They landed on the floor beside and slightly behind me.  I sighed, I may have been terrified out of my gourd, and not very knowledgeable about weapons, but I wasn't stupid.  I growled out, “Nice try.  Go to the back corner and look at the wall.  It's time for a time out... Kanton.”  I almost spit his name.

He just stood there so I shot at his feet.  Even though I was braced for it, the barrel still swung up, and I shot his toe with one of the rounds.  I moved the barrel aside when I stopped shooting and covered my mouth with one hand.  “Sorry about that.  How the hell do they run around with two assault rifles in the movies, shooting them with one hand?”

To his credit the man just hissed and hopped slightly, readjusting his weight to his good foot.  I shoved the barrel toward him, and he closed his eyes to center and calm himself.  He raised his hands a little higher and turned and limped over to the corner with his hands clasped behind his head as he snapped, “I'm going, I'm going.  Just... be careful with that thing.”  Then he grumbled under his breath, “Fucking amateurs.”

I said as I backed up a step and crouched to retrieve the keys, the gun pointed at him at all times.  “Oh suck it up, buttercup.”

I reached behind me and found the door lever as I readjusted my grip on the rifle.  The weapon was heavy and awkward, and I knew there was no way in hell I could fire it one handed.  I pushed down and pulled the door open, it was unlocked.  Kanton was looking over his shoulder.

I chanced a quick look into the hall, nobody was there at that moment.  Then I went about one handed trying each key in the lock until one turned it.  I took a deep breath then stepped out quickly.  I could see Baldy already on the move, and I fumbled with the key but got the deadbolt locked just as there was a tremendous thud and the sound of wood splintering.  Followed by another and another.  Shit, the door wasn't going to hold long.

I almost wet my pants and squeaked out in surprise when someone grabbed my hand and said in a bad Arnold Schwarzenegger impression, “Come with me if you want to live.”

The next moment I was engulfing Dorian in my wings and hugging her tight.  She felt good pressing against me, and I may have sobbed a bit, I won't admit to it, and you weren't there so you can't prove a thing.

I looked into her dark eyes, and she was nothing but smiles.  She said cutely, “Hi.”

I laughed through tears. “Hi.”  Then just like that, she tightened her grip on my hand as I dropped my wings from around her, and she was dragging me down the hall.

I could hear the chaos of weapons fire on another level and men yelling and screams of pain.  The corridor was spartan and utilitarian, it reminded me of the morgue in the basement of the medical wing at the school.  Linoleum floor with grey and white walls, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights that weren't helping my headache.

She said offhandedly, “Nice hardware.”

I blinked and looked down at the assault rifle.  I let go of her and shoved it toward her sideways with both hands as we ran.  “I sort of accidentally shot Baldy.”

She cocked an eyebrow, and I added, “And cut his face.”  Then I looked down in embarrassment. “And injured his neck.”  Then almost whispered, feeling sheepish, “And broke his nose.”

She blinked and said, “Damn, Angel.  That's hardcore.”  She checked the rifle and slid a little hinged switch that was labeled 'safety.'  Oh, there it was.

Then I asked as she slowed us by a door with a stairs sign on it, “You know your way around guns?”

She looked down at it a moment then shook her head and shot me a toothy grin, “No, but I know how to read.”  I almost chuckled, and she wiggled her eyebrows at me.

Then she looked beside me and said, “Make yourself useful blondie?”  And she nudged her head toward the door.

I looked around. “Stace?”

Dori paused a second and narrowed her eyes at the door.  “I'm not saying that... what?  Fine.”  She looked at me, and said in a prissy manner, “The one and only.”  Ok, now I did chuckle.  We were in a life or death situation and were joking around... with a ghost.  I guess it was either that or let the weight of the situation crush us I guess.

Then her smile disappeared, and she nodded. “She says it's clear to the next level.”

I asked as she held the door for me, staring at my injured and bloody wings, her grip on the weapon tightening, “Where's Hailey?”

There was a short burst of gunfire two levels up and the sound of a man yelling in pain, then silence.  She pointed up and cocked an eyebrow.  “I'd say right about there.”

I chuckled as I passed into the stairwell.  “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

She ran by my side up the stairs and prompted, “Then why did you ask?”

I sighed, and she grinned smugly.  Then she looked up the stairwell and admitted like the words tasted bad on her tongue, “She is pretty damn kickass, what mercenaries-r-us catalog did you dig her up from?”

I looked at her and couldn't help smiling, the girl was jealous, and I sort of liked it, it meant she liked me.  I blushed and repeated my earlier words, “She's my bartender.”

She nodded like that explained everything.

Chapter 11 – Retreat

We had Randy check out the first floor before we exited the stairwell.  I have to say, it is pretty sweet having people who could just walk through walls to look around in your odd group.

Then Robin and Stacy led us out the back way.  I could see the city lights in the distance, from the alley between two warehouses.

We were in some secluded flats to the east of the city, no wonder the police weren't coming to investigate the gunshots.  The group of ten or twenty warehouses were in a huge empty field with no other buildings for around a quarter mile or so.

And it looked to be almost morning if the orange tint on the horizon was any indicator.

I saw Hailey's bike parked by a curb near some low windows.  I swallowed, that would be my impromptu holding cell I knew.  I lowered my head a bit to see the bloody message on the wall and a splintered doorframe, Kanton was out.

I asked, “Is Hailey meeting us here?”

She nodded and said, “I'm supposed to signal her.”  She looked embarrassed.

I squinted one eye and asked carefully, “How?”

She shrugged and said, “I was supposed to whistle.  I can't whistle.”  Then she blushed and held a hand up to her mouth to amplify her voice and cut loose with a passable warbling Xena war cry.

Again, I know, life or death, yadda yadda... but I burst out laughing and covered my mouth.  Then we ducked when we heard an explosion on the second floor. Then some sporadic gunfire.  A moment later there was a crashing sound as something shattered the glass above us, and a dark shape flew out the opening with the shards of glass.

It impacted the wall of the building behind us and then slammed down onto the heavy plastic lid of the dumpster behind us, denting it in.

Hailey rolled off of it, dressed all in black leathers and body armor and she fired off a couple shots up at the opening she had just crashed out of.  I saw two men dive aside for cover.  I gaped at her.  I mean, dayum that was hot.  She gave me a cocky smirk as she stepped past me, her rifle still trained on the opening above as she raised a hand to my chin to shut my mouth.

She still had that cocky smirk on her face as she mounted the bike, saying, “Hi, gorgeous.”  Hailey kick-started her beast while not lowering her weapon.  She fired off a round and glanced at us, “Saddle up ladies.  Time to go.”

We jumped on, and I wrapped my arms around her waist, and we were screaming down the space between the buildings, gunfire just missing us as we went.  It felt like a pressure left us when we emerged out from between the buildings and were shooting across a weed-infested parking lot.  It was more open, and the acoustics weren't bouncing the sound all around us.

I almost sighed in relief as we approached a set of open gates with barbed wire on top of them.  But Hailey swerved sharply, bringing us to a screeching and skidding stop, causing Dorian to be thrown roughly to the side and she almost tumbled out of the sidecar.

We sat there, Hai revving the motor as two figures stepped into the open, guns belching fire at us faster than the reports reached us.  Xerxes and Kanton!  Xerxes had a snarl on his face, and Baldy looked stoic and oddly detached as they fired.

Then with the squealing of tires and throwing a rooster tail of loose asphalt from the crumbling lot behind us, we were off in the other direction, swerving wildly as Dori was grabbing at the sides of the sidecar as she was thrown around in it.

I noted that all the shots missed, and they had in the alley as well.  Then I realized that the girls were safe as long as I was on the bike.  Xerxes didn't want me dead, he wanted me to make a wish.  I patted Hailey's shoulder and yelled over the motor and the wind rushing past, “Go toward them.”

She looked at me like I was insane and I shrugged and said, “Trust me.”

She shook her head and exhaled, then put us in a sliding turn, kicking up more loose asphalt and debris and gunned the motor.  It roared like some sort of prehistoric beast, drowning out the sound of my heart beating, trying to break its way free of my chest.

She started screaming with a challenge as bullets struck the ground around us as she put us on a direct collision course with the two madmen.

She raised the assault weapon, which a detached portion of my mind realized it was the same as the one Dorian was holding.  She must have liberated it from one of her unfortunate victims while busting me out.  She fired one shot at a time, and I absently wondered how she was doing that.  Every time I squeezed the trigger, a bajillion shots went out.

The men weren't moving.  Her shots were going wild, it must not be like the movies where every shot the hero takes, hits its mark.  And I would assume just getting close like she was while driving a motorcycle and shooting one handed was a miracle in itself.  This was a deadly game of chicken.

A moment before we would have slammed into the men, they both dove out of the way, and Hailey whooped in elation as we rocketed out the gates and toward San Francisco.

She smiled back at me, her pupils wide from the excitement and the adrenaline she must have been mainlining in her system.  Then I said, “I have to pee.”

Which got her tilting her head back to laugh long and hard, her purple hair flowing back in the wind, into my face.  I looked aside and saw Dorian still gripping the sides of the sidecar with white knuckles.

She finally smiled thinly, reached a shaking hand to her feet and pulled out the ridiculous smiley face helmet and snapped it on.  It was my turn to laugh out loud when she turned a toothy grin toward me.

She handed me a helmet as Hailey started pouring on the speed.  I looked back and knew why. There was a caravan of headlights pouring out of the compound behind us.  Just how many men did Xerxes have and how many were his kin?

She was pulling farther and farther away, and our speed was making me nervous as hell as I lashed on my helmet.  As soon as we hit the outskirts of the city, then our leather clad protector started weaving through the streets in a random pattern, losing us in the maze of streets.  I was hoping that there was no way they would catch us now.

But they kept plaguing us.  I found myself silently hoping that our high speeds would attract the attention of the police, so that Hailey and Dorian would be safe, while still hoping it did not.  I've already learned that I didn't want to be pinned up and dissected like some science experiment.  It was an experience I didn't ever want to revisit.

After out third brush with SUVs cutting us off.  Hailey pulled us into an alley and jumped off the bike.  She started running her hands over my clothes.  Dorian looked ready to protest as I asked, “What's going on Hai?”

She hissed out, “They're tracking us somehow.”  Shit, not again.  Kanton and his damn trackers. She paused at my collar and pulled a little device no bigger than a postage stamp from under it.  She tossed it away and said, “Bastards planted a tracker.”

I felt oddly violated once again, more over that than about the torture Xerxes had inflicted on me, how messed up were my priorities?

I glared at the little device as she got back on the bike and said, “Hang on.”  I wrapped my arms around her waist again, and we were roaring down the alley and turning north.  We took a random route for some time before the club owner seemed satisfied and started toward the city center on the side roads.

I felt the urge to spread my wings as the wind whipped past us.  I let them flutter a bit, trailing behind me.  I realized I wanted to fly.  Being on the back of the bike reminded me of the freedom I had felt when I was flying for my life from the tower.

I turned to grin at Dori, who had reached out to brush her fingers along my wings as I let them flow back in the artificial breeze of our retreat.  The look of awe and amazement and... hunger?  On her face was surprising to me and had me blushing for some reason.  She didn't seem to see me as the winged freak I felt like.

She caught me looking, and we shared a smile.  I reached over and took her hand for a moment, letting my fingers curl around hers, feeling her warmth.  Then I let my fingers drift away and then turned back to the road, just to have some purple hair get in my mouth as it streamed back into the wind.

I swear Dori chuckled as I pulled back and pushed the locks out of my mouth.

Before long we were pulling into the alley of the old Regency building.  It seemed that since the night of Stacy's death, my life has been a series of alleys.  I glanced at my wings as we dismounted, knowing that would be true until I got my feathered afflictions bound and hidden away again.

Hailey scanned the alley and the rooftops above before she started piling cardboard boxes on her bike while Dorian stowed our helmets and pulled out the assault rifle from the floor of the sidecar.

Hailey stopped and held her hand out.  “Give.  I have to get rid of these.”  She placed her other hand on the one slung over her shoulder.

Dorian narrowed her eyes and pulled back, giving our resident badass a wary look, cradling the weapon like a baby.  “No, it's mine.  I found it so I'm keeping it.”  She had some sort of disconnect about things she found, and I wondered if it was a mindset she got from living on the streets.

I shook my head and said with a lopsided smirk on my face, “You didn't find it.  I gave it to you back at the warehouse.”

She shrugged and gave me a toothy grin.  “Semantics.”

Hailey huffed out a breath in exasperation, and her hand shot out lightning fast, like a snake striking, and she snatched the gun out of a startled Dorian's hands.  “Give me that.  You're going to hurt yourself.”

The two stared each other down for a few long seconds.  Then Dori conceded, “Fine Debby Downer.”

Then she went silent as we both just stared slack-jawed at Hai as she deftly ejected the magazine and cleared the weapon, slinging it over her shoulder with the other one.  We blinked as she said, “Stay here.”

She stalked down the alley looking at the ground for something.  Then Dori stepped to my side as we watched her go, I absently wrapped a wing around her, and she grasped it and held it close to her as she asked in a whisper, “Ok... is it wrong that that sort of aroused me?”

I swallowed and blushed and shook my head, “No.  No... not at all.”  I bit my lower lip.  Then I shook myself out of my admiration for the woman I had always believed only to be a smart business woman and bartender.

I snorted and bit back a laugh when the dark-eyed woman under my wing changed the subject.  “Now you owe me a jacket and a kickass gun.”

I turned toward her, shaking my head as I playfully wrapped my other wing around her, trapping her in a cage of feathers.  “You've got some pretty messed up priorities, Dor.”

She was quick to retort, “Says you.”

I nodded and teased, “I think we just established that.”

Her returning grin made my knees go a little weak.  Then she sighed loudly and just sort of laid against me.  I basked in her closeness and tightened my wings.  That solidified it, I was smitten with the little smartass.

We watched Hailey crouch and swing a rifle around to use the barrel to pry something up.  She grunted and moved a manhole cover to the side.  Then she disassembled the weapons like she had done it a million times, dropping the pieces into the manhole before grunting as she slid the cover back in place.

She joined us, and I asked, “What if the wrong kind of person finds those?  Someone could get hurt or worse.”

She shook her head and opened a fist to show me two pieces of metal.  “Not without the firing pins.”  Then she looked back at the manhole and said, “Once we get through this, I'll come back and dispose of them properly.”

Once we get through this?  I unwrapped my wings from Dori and just looked at them.  Would I ever get through this?  I contemplated using a wish to just make them go away.  But that just seemed wrong on so many levels to me now.

Not just the fact that it would bring me one step closer to enslavement and death, but because...  I understood Dorian a little better in that moment.  Because they were mine.  It would be too much like losing an arm or leg.

Hailey said, “Ok street rat, where is this safehouse of yours?”

I was getting amused at how much the two grated on each other when I saw a grudging respect for each other.

I shook my head. “No, the first thing is that you two need to do is to turn around.  If I don't pee now, I'll wind up embarrassing myself even more in a few seconds.”

They complied with my wishes and turned around as I moved behind a garbage can.  This may or may not have been the first time I had to relieve myself in an alley.  Shut up, we all do stupid things when we drink.  I just barely made it in time.

I swear I heard chuckling when it seemed like I wasn't going to stop.  I felt much better as I stepped back out, zipping up.  They turned to me with innocent smiles on their faces.  I growled, “I hate you both.”

I got toothy grins in response, and I tried not to smile, so I turned away and said, “Follow me.”

I spread my wings wide, it felt good to stretch them, at the same time it hurt like hell.  I could feel the damage to my wingtip, my original bruises, and the bloodied holes I tore into my own flesh to free myself.  The pain was worth the elated sense of freedom I felt as I took two running steps as I flapped my wings.

I was airborne again, and I don't think I could have wiped the smile off my face as my heart beat in excitement.  I heard Dorian laughing in wonder below me as I spun in the air, as I pulled my wings to me at my apogee then I swooped down to the fire escape landing, and back-flapped to slow my approach.  Ok, so I wasn't as graceful as I felt.  I'm really going to have to practice landing, all this crashing is getting old.  I slammed into the railing and flipped over to land in a heap on the fire escape by Dori's window.

I held a hand up and said in an embarrassed tone, “I'm ok.”

This got a couple chuckles from the hot peanut gallery below as Hailey said, “Nice landing, Grace.”

I complained as they climbed up to me, “Hey, I've only had wings a couple days, you wouldn't do any better.”

As her purple hair swayed while she climbed, she said, “I suppose.  But really, that was so surreal seeing you actually fly.”

I blinked and realized that that was actually the first time she saw me in the air.  The wings were probably a curious aberration to her until the moment I took to the air.

I nodded in understanding as I untangled myself from my wings. “You think that's surreal, imagine my reaction when the damn things burst out of my back when I was falling to my death.”

Dorian crouched and helped me stand.  Now that all the excitement of our escape was waning, and the adrenaline high had long since left, I realized how much my legs and ankles hurt from being tied up so long.  I wobbled, and she lent me support.  I saw concern in her eyes and coloring her features as her eyes flicked from injury to injury.

She nudged her chin to the plywood over the window and instructed Hailey, “Move that aside.  We need to check out her injuries.”

A minute later we were all inside, a lantern lit to illuminate the space as the two women looked me over.  I tried to protest, but they slapped my hands away and went about dressing my wounds the best they could with the meager supplies Dori had on hand.

I tried hard not to cry as Hailey used a needle and thread, which Dori pulled out of one of her bags on the floor, to suture my wounds.  She shook her head and grumbled, “We'll have to get some proper supplies, you need these wounds cleaned out better, and some hydrogen peroxide or antiseptic at least.  If they get infected, we won't be able to treat you.”

I swallowed, knowing her meaning.  I'd have to see a proper doctor then, and my secret would be out.  I nodded, and my stomach gurgled so loudly that it actually echoed in the empty space.

Dorian giggled and covered her mouth.  I glared at her, but her eyes were glittering in mirth, and she looked far too cute holding back her laugh.  I pouted, “I haven't eaten anything since your eggs yesterday.”

All the humor left her eyes, and she started rummaging through her packs.  She pulled out a small package of peanuts, a water bottle, and a piece of jerky and offered it to me.  She looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Angel.  It's all I have.”

I hesitated.  I literally fell into this woman's life, and she hasn't hesitated once in giving all she had to take care of me.  Including risking her life three times now.  And here she was, giving me the last of her food.  I finally accepted it and waved the jerky at them, “We'll share.”

For once, Hailey didn't take the opportunity to give Dorian a hard time.  She just quietly nodded once.  We split the meager offerings.  They watched as I just wolfed down my portion.  Good lord I was hungry.  Hai said offhandedly as she studied me, “I'll head out in a minute to get some decent medical supplies.”  Then she added, “And food.”

Hailey said quickly when it looked like Dorian was going to protest, like it was a dig to her pride, “We don't know how long we'll be holed up here.  I have some gear stashed in a bolthole.”

I blinked and asked, “Umm... not that I'm complaining, but why does a club owner have a bolthole anyway?”

She gave me a wink, which did inappropriate things to me as she said, “Well darlin', you can take the girl out of the soldier, but you can't take the soldier out of the girl.  It always pays to be prepared.”  I grinned at how close that was to what I had thought yesterday.

Then she said, “You need to debrief before I go, so I know what we're dealing with here.”

I saw the wince she hid as she turned.

I had noted she was moving a little stiffly and favoring her left side since we slowed down.  And now that I was more focused, I could tell her breathing was rapid and shallow.  She was hurt but trying not to show it, and that wasn't going to fly with me.

Now that my own injuries and hunger were pushed back into the background noise of the turmoil of my shattered life, I was thinking clearer, and my first priority was to my friends.  I chastised myself for not noticing her distress sooner and being so flipping self-absorbed.

I said as I shook my head and scolded her, “Not until we see what you're hiding Hailey.  You don't have to be so badass all the time you know.”

Dorian turned her eyes from me to Hailey and then really took her in in the dim light.  I saw her eyes narrow when she saw what I was talking about.

The woman started to shake her head to protest, but Dori said in an angry tone, “Come on eggplant, show.”

I squinted one eye in pain at the jab at the purple hair.  Hey, I thought it was sexy as hell.

Hailey just exhaled in exasperation and started unclipping the leather body armor, and she pulled the chest protector aside.  Then she winced a little and pulled up the side of her black shirt to reveal some of the most chiseled abs I've ever seen on a woman.  I probably would have been swooning if it weren't for the almost black bruise that swept across the bottom of her ribcage under the intricate tattoos that seemed to be everywhere on the woman.

I hissed and moved to her side and gingerly touched her flesh around the bruise.  She took a sharp intake of breath but didn't say a word.  I shot her an apologetic look and placed my hands over the bruise and pushed in carefully, feeling with my fingers for an anomalies.

I could feel what I was afraid of, and said in an almost accusatory tone, “You have at least one fracture in the eighth rib near the costal cartilage, and possibly the ninth.”  I moved my hands as I applied pressure and she hissed.

I nodded to myself as I felt around, trying hard not to cause her any more pain.  I was satisfied that there weren't any splinters protruding into the thorax.  I muttered, “We need to get your chest wrapped, I don't think you're at risk of a hemothorax or pneumothorax.  But you really need to get this checked out.  There may be some internal damage as well.”

I glanced over to Dori, who looked genuinely concerned, and I asked her, “Do you have anything we can use to wrap her chest?”

She shook her head, looking a little pale.  I asked, “Sweatpants?”

She brightened up and nodded and almost dove on a canvas pack and started digging as she said offhandedly, “You sound like a doctor slinging around clinical terms.”

I shrugged as she pulled out a pair of pink and grey sweatpants. “Sorry, I'm a nursing student.”  I paused at that then added just above a whisper as I felt the darkness creeping in on me, smothering me, “Or, I used to be.”  That life was gone for me now.

I didn't have time for a pity party.  I nudged my chin to the sweatpants.  “Cut the legs down the length and we can use the wide strips as a pressure bandage.”

Hailey gave me a smirk and teased, “Very Macgyver, you missed your calling as a field medic.”  Then she added, “With those wings, you could do your own airlifting.”

I narrowed my eyes at her and put a tiny bit of pressure on her bruise.  Her eyes widened as she hissed out a breath.  I crinkled my nose at her in a 'So there' gesture and said, “I don't know what a Macgyver is but it sounds like you're teasing your doctor.”

She looked surprised and asked in an incredulous tone, “You don't know who Macgyver is?”  Then she shook her head. “God, I'm getting' old.”

We looked over at a tearing sound and saw Dori using the knife she got from Hailey to cut the legs off the sweats and slash down the length of them.  She looked almost frantic as she offered them to me.  Her hands shaking.  I absently reached a wing out to wrap around her as I took the offered stretchy fabric.

I pulled her to my side with the wing, and she seemed to cuddle into it as I asked, “Are you ok Dor?  You're doing fine.”

She shrugged and looked at Hailey then said to me.  “Sorry, I just don't like seeing people hurt.  Even old musclebound bartenders.”

I grinned at that, at least she could still be snarky in the situation we found ourselves in.  I nudged my chin toward Hailey and said to the woman under my wing as I pulled it back a bit, “Hold her shirt up so I can wrap her.”

The club owner narrowed her eyes at me and said indignantly, “I can hold my own...  grraahh.”  She winced in pain as she tried to pull her arms up to shoulder height.

I chastised her, “Sit still and let her help.”

She grudgingly dropped her shirt and held her arms to her sides as far up as she could comfortably hold them.

Dori reached over and pulled up the black tee and blinked.  She had a sort of goofy look on her face.  I looked too.  Trying to be professional, but dayum.  I swallowed again, how was one woman allowed to be so hot?  I felt self-conscious about my body as I looked at her toned form.  Then felt a little, put off and... jealous, as Dorian just cocked an eyebrow and grinned at that same form.

We were snapped out of it when Hailey said in a plaintive tone, “When the two of you are done perving out, can we get on with it?”

I blushed and looked up at her sheepishly and then reached around her back to grab the improvised pressure bandage.  Trying not to notice how close I had to get to her to accomplish the task.  I almost snorted when Dor said into the air in a musical singsong voice, “Cougar.”

Hailey growled, “I'm not that old, street rat!”

I glanced at her face, and Hai winked at me.  I chuckled.  She really was only about ten years older than us, but when you're young, that feels like half a lifetime.  I was starting to see that distinction blurring as I worked on her.  Hey, I'm a warm-blooded woman and am only human.  Well human-ish anyway.

I blushed as Dorian scrutinized me.  She gave a silly, dimpled smile when she realized I was looking at her.  Then she got bashful under my gaze and pushed the brown locks from her face and behind her ear.  Now that was a whole different kind of sexy.

I looked away before I blushed again and tied off the makeshift bandage.  I tugged Hailey's shirt back down and backed up.  Pulling Dorian with me using my wing which she was wearing like a cape.

Hai raised her arms and winced a little as she rolled them and stretched a little side to side, wrapping her arms, like she was testing her limits and flexibility against the pain.  She nodded in satisfaction.  “It'll do.”

Then she locked eyes with me and said, “Sit.”

We complied, and she added, “Ok, no more stalling.  I know it is not a very palpable subject.”  Her eyes drifted to the bandages on the leading edges of my wings.  “But we need to know what we are dealing with, gorgeous.”

I sighed and nodded.  Pulling Dorian tighter to my side, I felt more secure with her there for some reason, and I started, “It was Xerxes... not his kin, but the man himself.  And my mom did a number on him... to protect me.”  I smiled sadly at being able to say that.

Then I gave a detailed account of my time in his and Kanton's hands.

Chapter 12 – Found

They stopped me from time to time for clarifications, and Dori just grinned at me when I had been explaining how I had impacted and shattered the upper and lower lateral cartilage and possibly the septal cartilage of Xerxes' nasal septum with the frontal bone region of my forehead.

I had to smile back at her and ask, “What?”

She snickered. “Just say you broke his nose with a headbutt, weirdo.”

I grinned at her and covered her mouth with my wing, saying, “Shush, you.”  Which just got a chuckle from Hailey at our antics.

After the unpleasantness of my capture and torture was fully disclosed, we spoke about what we had inferred from what little I had learned.  The purple haired ex-soldier; can you be an ex-soldier?; rubbed her chin and nodded as she said, “So they have to use human intelligence to locate you since however they tracked your family before doesn't work for Xerxes and his family now.  That is something I can understand more than the mystical crap.  I can work with that.”

I narrowed my eyes as I furrowed my brow.  I stopped her by holding a hand out toward her.  “Hang on... in all the running for our lives and patching ourselves up business, I forgot to ask.  Just how did you find me and come riding to the rescue on your steel horse?”

Hailey rolled her eyes as Dorian gave her a mocking look.  Hai sighed and said, “The street rat.”

I defended the girl who was under my wing, playing with my downy undercoat feathers, it tickled.  “She has a name, woman.”

Dori grinned at me and shrugged, “It's ok, Angel, I kind of like it.”  Then she added, “While the club grandma there was stewing in lockup, where she had to explain how she found herself in yet another shootout in her establishment.  I was busy.”

She paused and looked to her side, and she made an exasperated sound.  “Shut up.  Who asked you?”  Then she shook her head and looked down.  “Fine, whatever.”

Then she looked at me, putting a hand up to purposefully block out Hailey.  “Stacy high tailed it after you when the bald menace took you in the alley.  It was all Robin could do to keep up with her.  Randy stayed behind to watch over me.”

Then she stroked my wing in a proprietary manner, her hand shaking slightly as she said with a hitch in her voice, “I thought the worst... I thought they'd come back with... well that they'd come back with you.”

I understood, she thought they had killed me, and I'd be a ghost.  I caught myself leaning into her hand as she played with my wing, it felt sinfully decadent.

Then she shrugged and said, “I hung around near the station, and when Miss Anime Hair here finally came out, I still hadn't heard back from them.  I was getting worried.  Usually, when a ghost is bored with hanging around with me, they just never come back.”

Then she smiled fondly to the side and said to thin air, “But blondie here was waiting back at the club when we arrived.  Hailey tried to get me to just go far far away so she could find you after we were safe.”

She almost growled, “Stacy said they were... doing things to you.”  Her hand lightly rested on the bandages on my wing, I could almost feel her anger seething inside her.

It genuinely enraged the odd woman, who incidentally, was smiling at me again.  That smile was doing all sorts of interesting things to me.  A warmth was spreading inside me over that, and over the fact that she seemed to be always in contact with me in some form or another.

Then she shrugged. “I shared with the soldier girl that I wouldn't tell her where they were holding you, or how many men the ladies saw when they ghost patrolled the building unless she took me.”

This got a glare from our protector and Dori shrugged at her and explained to the perturbed woman, “She's my angel.  I found her, so she's mine.”

Good God, I was blushing.

Then she shrugged and said, “The rest is history.”

With that, Hailey headed to the window and paused as she started moving the plywood aside.  “Keep out of sight.  I'll be back soon.  If you don't hear from me in an hour.  Then run... make your way out of the city.  Head for Santa Cruz, find a man named Jerry on the boardwalk, give him my name.  I'll find you if I'm able.”

I just blinked at the woman.  She saw my concern and gave a cocky wink then without another word, she slipped outside holding her side, moving soundlessly.  I couldn't even hear her descend the fire escape beyond.

Dorian said quietly, with a tinge of worry in her voice, “The woman tried to do it all herself.  She finally let me get to you while she created a 'little distraction' upstairs.  Only after I assured her that I had three invisible lookouts that could make sure the coast was clear did she agree.”

Then she narrowed her eyes and looked back at the window and said with a tone I couldn't place, “I'm not sure she's convinced that my friends are really there.  But they found you and hell, if a girl can have wings, why can't one have some really cool imaginary friends?”

She held her hands up in a placating gesture and spoke to her left, “No offense intended, you know what I meant.”  Then she added, “Oh shut up Stacy.”

I shook my head and said with a sly smile as I looked to where she was staring and said, “Talking to her like that won't have the results you expect.”

Then Dori shook her head. “What does asswaffle even mean, blondie?”

This got a surprised burst of laughter from me, and I playfully cocooned her in my wings when she squinted one eye toward my dead friend and pleaded humorously, “Help?”

I was grinning, but then it wasn't funny anymore when she wound up face to face with me, our eyes locked on each other, frozen into immobility.  She swallowed, and I was lost in the dark pools in front of me.  They held so much depth and... pain?  I could feel her closeness and our body heat trapped inside my wings was almost enough to ignite us.

She pried her eyes away from my eyes with a great effort, and she whispered, “Hi?”

I tilted my head down to catch her eyes again and took a chance.  I leaned in and brushed my lips across the beguiling woman's.  Then I sighed into her in relief as she leaned into it and captured my lips before they could escape.

For just a moment, I was able to forget the hell I found myself in and reveled in the tingling that shot through my body, heating my core in a way I had never felt before.  Then just as things were crossing the threshold to supernova when she wrapped her arms around me and started rubbing the nubs where my wings sprouted from my back, I got dizzy and staggered into her.

She was quick to support me as another wave of wishes flowed over me like a torrential downpour, more violently than any of the others.  I heard the whispers and shouts to the heavens.  The laughter and sobs.  I felt every emotion behind every wish as they assaulted me from all angles.

Dorian was speaking to me, but I couldn't hear her, as her voice was drowned out in the ocean of pleas, and I was helpless to help any of them, no matter how desperately I wanted to.  “I wish I was stronger.”  “I wish Sally were my sister.”  “I wish I could get away with murder.” “I wish grandpa hadn't got hurt.”

But there was something there, fighting the current with me.  It was like a small island of tranquility in the rapids, where the waves of wishes just crashed around.  It was calm, unmoving.  And I realized it was Dorian.  Dorian was holding me as the insanity of it all threatened to pull me away.

I felt like I was everyone who was making the wishes, feeling their inner selves as if the emotions were my own.  But not Dorian.  Like before, even though we were touching, I didn't hear her voice, her wishes, like everyone else I had touched since this nightmare began.  In her, I felt peace, a silence that I clung to and pulled myself into the shelter it offered.

My breathing slowly returned to normal, and I found we were sitting on the ground, on my wings, and she was holding me to her, cradling me as she just shushed me and stroked my hair.  I caught my breath and pulled away a little.  I smiled in apology to her and said, “I'm ok now.  It's gone.”

Then I asked before she could voice the question that was evident on her concerned face, “Don't you have any wishes?  I hear them all, but never from you.”

She cocked her head, it was cute as sin as her hair flopped into her face, then she shrugged and said as if it were obvious, “I don't have to wish for anything.  I have everything I need.  If not, then I can get it myself.”

Wow.  That was sort of... well, that was kind of inspirational.  Then she bit her lower lip and whispered, “And I found my very own angel.”

Ok, ten points for that one.  I melted and kissed her.

I pushed her back enough for us to get off my wings and then I held one out wide as I slid to the wall to put my back against it.  She didn't need more of an invitation than that, and she joined me as I draped a wing over her.

Then I asked as she snuggled into my side and we just stared at each other, memorizing each other’s faces as I sighed while she lightly brushed my wing, “Tell me about Dorian.  I don't even know your full name, Mouse.”

She smiled at my using her nickname and then said as she looked down almost bashfully, “Dorian Rachelle Wright.”

I cocked my head, mentally saying her name a few times, taste testing it if you will.  Then I grinned. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Dorian Rachelle Wright.  Angelina Drake.  No middle name.”

This got Dori grinning like a loon as she said, “That's not what the blonde sitting over there gushing about our kissing says.  She says she saw your record just recently.”

I blanched and muttered to her left, “You bitch.”

She snorted, reached up, and tilted my head to her right, and I repeated, “You bitch.”

Then Dori asked as she scrunched up her face in amusement, “Thelma?”

I said in an indignant tone, “Shut up, both of you.”

She smiled and said to the invisible onlookers, “Get lost, the lot of you.  I want to talk to the angel... alone.”  She cocked an eyebrow in challenge and then just waited until she smiled and turned to me.  “We're alone, until Stacy gets bored at least.”

I smiled and nodded back, pulling her closer with my wing and then asked, “Tell me everything there is to know about Dorian Rachelle Wright, and I'll tell you what little I know about myself.”

She nodded, and we started having the most incredible conversation of my life with the most incredible girl, on the most terrible day of my life.  But I was oddly ok with it.  If it was my time to go, then at least I had met the girl who speaks with ghosts.

I couldn't imagine the confusion, fear, and feeling of losing her mind when she started realizing that some of her friends in her life didn't interact with others and that only she could see or hear them.  It made it hard to keep a job, and that conversely led to her living on the streets.  Her aunt wanted nothing to do with her, calling her mad as a hatter.

I shared what little I could remember about my childhood before my mother took her own life.  Then about moving from place to place, city to city in the foster care system.  It didn't seem like any of the foster parents would keep me long.  Things would always occur, and circumstances would arise that would preclude their ability to care for me any longer.

I used to think it was because I was some sort of freak or pariah because my mom committed suicide.  That nobody could love me.  But I suspect now that it was because of mom's wish to keep me hidden.  That it somehow kept me on the move until I was old enough to move out.  To move to San Francisco for nursing school.

We started getting nervous when we had been talking for quite some time and Hailey still hadn't arrived.  We had no way of telling time, but the sun was high in the sky.  It had to be close to noon.  We were in sync when we realized how long we had been distracted by our conversation.  We went to the window, and I went to move the board aside, but Dorian laid a hand on mine to stop me.

I looked at her, and she shook her head then looked back into the room and said, “Could you?”  She motioned her chin toward the window.  Then I shuddered as I felt a chill go through me.

She growled, “I hate it when they do that.”

I looked at her, curious as to what she meant.

She exhaled and clarified, “When they pass through me like that.  It gives me the heebie-jeebies.”  Then she added, “And it's rude.”

I rubbed my arm and asked, “Was that what that chill was?”

She gave me a toothy grin. “Stacy.”

I narrowed my eyes and shook my fist playfully at the window.  This got a chuckle from the brown eyed imp.

We just stood there by the window, trying to see out of the areas that sunlight was streaming through the various gaps.  As the seconds ticked into minutes, both Dorian and I were getting visibly tenser.  She muttered to herself, “Come on... what's taking so long?”

Then almost as if the prompt had been heard by the universe she backed up a step and turned toward me and started nodding as if I were speaking to her.  I realized that one or all of them must have returned.  I ran a hand through the space between us.

Dorian leaned to the side like she was looking around something to see me and asked, “Do you mind, Angel?  We're trying to talk here.”  She gave me a quick look and then straightened back up and nodded and asked, “You're sure?  How many?”

Then she nodded and bit her lower lip in consternation and then asked almost hopefully, “She's where now?”  Then she nodded one last time and said, “Ok, thanks, Randy.  Keep me posted?”

Then she stepped a half step to the side and locked eyes with me, her face a mask of concern that made my heart speed up and my fight or flight reflex start sneaking to the forefront.  She glanced at the window then me, “There's nobody on the streets.”

I heard cars on the roads and the sounds of people walking by and talking on their cells as the city churned on.  I almost asked and she shook her head.

“No, I mean people like me.  Homeless.  All the back alleys and flops are empty.  They are seeing vehicles canvassing the area systematically, some men on foot.  They think it is them.  They seem to know we are around here somewhere.”

Then she shut her mouth, her lips pressed together in a thin line, and she hissed out as she face palmed, “It's me.  How could I be so stupid?”

I reached a hand out, my right wing mimicking the motion.  I laid a hand on her arm as my wing draped over her shoulder.  Then I cocked my head at the look on her face.  I knew the look, I wore it often when I was upset at myself for something.  “What is it Dor?”

She shook her head and exhaled, placing a hand over mine.  “They saw me in the alley where they took you.  I looked like what I was, a street rat.  It wouldn't take much for them to ask around and find out about the Mouse.  I help out all the others around here.  They all know I have a hidey hole somewhere around here.  It is just a matter of time before they realize the biggest abandoned building in the area is a prime location for squatting.”

I asked, “Hailey?”

She said, “She's on her bike, ghosting herself in alleys, steering clear of the canvassers to watch the place.  I don't think she wants to chance coming in, or they will see her.  Her dumbass hair sort of gives her away.”

I smiled, even in the weight of the situation and teased, “Hey, I think it's sexy.”

She stared at me like she couldn't believe I had just said that, then she crumbled and gave a smirk and said, “Yeah, whatever, it's hot.”  Then she added quickly, “But don't let her know I said that, I'll deny it.”  Then she took her hand away from mine to gently grab my wing's leading edge to pull it tighter around her shoulders.

I had to grin at that and ask, “You really don't have a problem with me being a bird-girl freak do you?”

Her smirk doubled, and her cheek dimpled as she said, “It's sexier than purple hair and hey...”  She pointed at herself. “Speaks to ghosts.”

I chuckled and then said, “Well Spooky Wan Kenobi, we need to get to Hailey and get out of the city.  These guys aren't going to give up.  Xerxes is power mad.”  I said in a distant tone, “Maybe Santa Cruz like Hai suggested.”

Then a thought snapped me out of the need to flee.  Running was a selfish thing to do when there was a little girl out there somewhere who had the same blue eyes that I saw in the mirror every morning.  I'd be leaving her to the fate I'm trying to escape.  My baby girl.  I know I didn't have any right to claim her as my own, I had given up that right when I put her up for adoption.  But she didn't deserve to live in fear like this, and I'll be damned if I allow Xerxes and his spawn to take her.

She cocked her head, seeing I was working through something in my head.  I looked at her and shook my head.  “No, we're not running.  This has to end now.  I'm not letting future generations of Drakes go through this hell.  Even if I have to use another wish that will put another chain around my soul, or expose myself to the world.”

Her eyes were glittering with a fire inside as she slowly smiled and just gave me a single nod.  I liked what I saw in her expression as she tilted her head to regard me in a fresh light.

We heard the sound of someone kicking in the door in the alley below, they had found us.  My heart leapt in my chest, pounding hard, and I took a deep breath and said as I nudged my chin toward the window, “I'll find Hailey, and we'll bring the fight to them.”

She nodded again then leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the lips and said, “Ok.  And they can't have you, you're mine.”

I smiled at her warmly.  I could live with that.

She swung the plywood aside, and I said, “Don't get caught.  Be right back.”

Dorian nodded emphatically as I took two running steps at the window and dove through it and over the fire escape railing.  My wings fluttered wide, making that snapping canvas sound as I flapped to gain altitude as I turned down the alley.

Chapter 13 – Endgame

I felt that elation I had experienced when I flew before.  It was a feeling of freedom I can't properly convey.  It felt like I wasn't just physically flying, but that my very soul was soaring as the wind of my passing curled behind me while I sliced through the air.

I heard a man shout and looked down, four or five of them were streaming into the old Regency building.  He started speaking into his cuff and ran down the alley after me.  Shit, the others didn't come out of the building to follow.  I growled at Kanton and Xerxes propensity for using those I cared for, against me.  They'd take anyone they found inside for leverage.

I hissed out another epitaph and gained some more altitude, clearing the roof of the five-story building and the surrounding structures, gaining speed with each flap of my wings.  They felt strong, even with my injuries, and that filled me with confidence.

Pigeons, seagulls, and even a hawk who had chosen to nest in the urban jungle started circling around me.  I almost chuckled at that as I said, “Shoo... I'm not one of you.”

I could hear people below blurting out surprised exclamations but couldn't quite make out the words.  I saw people pointing up at me, and a couple cell phones pointed my way.  Well shit, I didn't really think this through now did I?  I just hoped that my face wouldn't be recognizable at that distance.

I scanned the streets as I banked first north, then east.  My eyes watering with the passage of air at the high speeds I was attaining.  If I survived this and wasn't dissected by some government types, I needed some eye protection for when I flew.

I started circling to try to identify the vehicles of Xerxes' men.  I saw four vehicles changing direction and converging on the Regency.  I growled to myself and scanned the alleyways for any sign of Hailey.  She couldn't have been far if Dorian's ghosts said she was keeping tabs on the building.

I wiped my eyes for the tenth time or more, as the tears caused by the wind streaked my cheeks.  More and more people were running along the sidewalks, pointing their cellphones skyward.  All the motion was distracting with my blurry vision.  I needed to land, so I could focus better.

I tucked one wing in tight, causing a steeply banked dive to my left, and then cupped my wings to slow my rate of speed.  I was purposefully singing a song in my head, trying my damnedest not to think about how instinctive flying was.  All I needed to do now was to wonder how I was doing it and lose control and crash, or worse.

I streaked toward a ledge on a tall building overlooking the Regency and with three powerful backstrokes I brought my speed to almost nothing and swooped to land my feet lightly on the parapet of the roof.  I smiled in elation as I crouched to look down, tucking my wings back behind me.  I had made my first successful landing that wasn't an abysmal crash landing.  I fought away the smile that was threatening.  I shouldn't be enjoying myself, it was a life or death situation I found myself in.

No sooner had I relaxed to scan the area, then a dozen pigeons landed beside me to look down.  Why weren't they scared of me?  I was a huge winged creature.  I muttered to them, “I'm not one of you.”

Then I bit back a scream when something big and winged landed on my shoulder.  I swallowed and bit back my panic, trying to get my breathing under control as my heart felt as if it were about to tear out of my chest.

I had to blink.  There was a hawk on my shoulder.  And honest to goodness bird of prey.  And it didn't seem concerned about the hyperventilating bird-girl it was perched on. Instead it was staring intently in the direction I had been before the feathered mafia showed up beside me.

I smiled nervously at her, “Hi there.”

It cocked its head at a severe angle to regard me for a moment before looking back down.  Right.  Back on task.  I smiled to myself and looked down trying to think like a special forces woman on a motorcycle.

I noted the birds all tracked my gaze as I searched.  Then I realized that they were hunting with me, I must have seemed the bigger, badder hunter to them, so anything I was hunting must have been a tasty treat.

I snickered to myself and made a mental note not to tell Hailey that she was a tasty treat.  True as it may have been.  Then I broke into a grin as I imagined Dorian's reaction if I said it in her earshot.

Then I straightened up a little as I squinted at an alley just a block away.  Was that the front tire of a motorcycle by that news-stand poking out?  I glanced down, and there were people congregating below me on the street.  I looked back at my feathered posse.  “Here goes nothing.”  Then I looked to my companion on my shoulder.  “Sorry.”

I started to stand and the hawk just gracefully took wing.  I turned to run along the parapet, scattering the pigeons, amazed at the fact that I didn't have a fear of falling.  I had never been afraid of heights, but I had never been stupid either and respected the falling to your death stigma before.  But now it felt no different than standing on the curb of a street.

The hawk paced me from a few yards out, and when I reached the corner, I just dove off the edge of the roof, cocking my tucked wings slightly to cause me to twist in the air in a barrel roll as I plummeted toward the street below.  I had fallen only two or three stories from the ten story height before I spread my wings and caught the wind.

I whooped as I angled down the road and swooped and spun in the air playfully once.  Then soared over toward the alley where I suspected Hailey to be.  I had to get there before she moved again.  I looked down to see people running to keep track of me.  I shook my head and just flew over the building to my left, my hawk shadow right on my tail.  I muttered, “Try following me now people.”  I smirked.

Then I swooped down into the alley from behind and glided toward a familiar purple haired badass who was standing near her bike, staring at the Regency.  She seemed tense and fidgety.  From this angle, she wouldn't have known that Kanton and Xerxes had found us there.

I back winged and landed behind Hailey, and a moment later I saw stars as I was slammed against the alley wall with an arm across my chest for the second time in two days, pinning me there.  My eyes bugged out at the sight of her other fist just inches away from my throat.  Note to self, do not ever sneak up behind Hailey Frost.

I gave an apologetic smile as she shook her head once then released me but pinned my wings to the wall with her hands as she smirked while she held me there, our faces inches apart.  Good lord.  I was heating up.  Focus Angelina, you've got a hottie waiting for you back at the Regency.

Then she smirked and released me, “Hey darlin', you don't want to be sneaking up on me like that.”

I felt the heat recede, and a new heat from a blush replace it.  I said with a touch of sarcasm, “I sort of got that from the body slam.”

Then with a screech and a furious barrage of wings and talons, the hawk had swooped in to... to what?  To protect me?  Hailey was swatting at it but having no luck, it was quick, and the flurry of wings made it hard to hit.

I blurted, “Hey, don't hurt it!”

I stepped up, talking to the bird, “It's ok, she's with me.”  I reached out with an arm and the hawk just dodged another swipe of Hailey's hand and landed on my shoulder and looked at the club owner with birdlike disdain.

I looked at the bird and absently lifted my hand to stroke its head as I checked it for injuries.  I glanced at a disheveled looking Hai.  She looked almost embarrassed, her hair messed up and sporting a couple shallow cuts on her cheek.

I gave her a squinty-eyed look of apology and said, “Sorry, I think she thought you were hurting me.”  Then I said, “Hailey, this is my...  I don't know.  My new friend?”

She took a couple calming breaths, centering herself, then she ran her hands through her hair, smoothing it back out and then she smirked and said, “Just don't tell the street rat.”

I grinned toothily and asked with wry humor coloring my voice, “What that you got your butt kicked by a bird?”

Then she looked at the hawk, reached her hand up then yanked it back quickly when the hawk snapped at her fingers. “What, you can talk to birds now?”

I blushed and blurted, “No.  She's just... sort of following me around.”

I heard a commotion approaching down the street.  Speaking of following me around.  “We need to get out of here fast.  People saw me and that's them heading this way.”

She nodded, and we hopped quickly onto her bike, my hawk taking wing.  With a solid kick, she started the iron beast, the throaty growl of it rising as she spun us around and headed the other way like a bat out of hell.  I yelled into her ear, “We need to get back to Dori.  Baldy found us, she needs our help.”

She nodded then accelerated.  We could hear sirens in the distance getting closer.  Just what we needed, the police again.  Some concerned citizens must have phoned in about the winged freak flying around threatening to eat them all.  I pulled my wings tight to my back self-consciously as we rode.

She skirted one block and brought us around to the alley of the Regency building, but parked at the curb instead of turning into it.  She pulled something out of her saddle bag with a towel draped over it.  She said. “Stay here,” as I started to follow.

I hissed out, “No, I'm not hiding anymore.  This ends now.”

She looked frustrated with her mouth drawn in a tight line and her brow furrowed slightly.  She looked tense, then she exhaled loudly and reached into the saddlebag again and slid a radio onto her belt and handed one to me.

She said in a clipped tone, “I need eyes on the building, someplace up high, telling me who is coming and going in the structure.  Be my eyes.  I can travel quicker alone, and I'll find the street rat.  She's annoyingly good at hiding.”

It was my turn to exhale in exasperation, she was just getting me out of harm's way, and I found it a little patronizing.  She read that in my face and said, “This is important, darlin'.  I don't have anyone else to spot for me.”

I shot back in my own clipped tone, “Fine, I'll do it.  But you don’t get to call me darlin', I'm mad at you right now.  My girl is in there.”  My girl?  Hmmm... I grinned, I guess Dori sort of was now.

The violet haired terror winked and said, “Sure thing, gorgeous.”

I couldn't stop the damn smile as I rolled my eyes at her and said, “I hate you.”

She wiggled her fingers at me and said, “Now flutter off or whatever it is you do and report any movement you see.”  She put an earpiece in her ear and plugged the little black wire attached to it to the radio and turned the unit on.

I swung a wing at her, and she ducked under it as it whooshed over her head as she chuckled.  Then she started jogging down the alley, holding whatever was under the towel like a gun.  I took two running steps and winced at the gunshots in the alley as my wings took their first great downstroke, my feet leaving the sidewalk.

I cringed as the gunshots drew attention to me.  Again I had people on the street who weren’t running from the gunshots, turning their cellphone cameras to me as I swooped along the block, gaining altitude to clear the rooftops, I tucked into a barrel roll to change direction and skimmed the rooftop of the neighboring building, kicking up dust and debris in my passing.

I tried not to smile as I saw my shadow racing along the rooftop with a smaller shadow over my shoulder.  I glanced back and up at the hawk.  “Hey girl, it's not safe being around me.”  She ignored me.

Police were just a couple blocks away.  I angled my wings, swung my feet forward, adjusting my momentum and angle of attack of my wings and went into a pirouetting corkscrew rapidly upward before snapping my wings wide to soar over the Regency building.

I looked around and saw some news vans approaching as well.  Shit.  Just what I need is to be plastered all over the six o'clock news... again.  If the vans were here, the choppers weren't going to be far behind once the reporters confirm the sightings of a bird-girl in the skies of San Fran.

I scanned the area and pulled the walkie talkie off my belt and made sure it was on then pushed the button and said as I studied the area while I drifted on the breeze coming off the Bay.  “I see two men in the alley by another man who looks down.”  I didn't want to say body, though I knew that was most likely all that was left of the man.

Then I continued, “The roof is clear, and I can't see anything in the boarded up windows.”  I released the button and held the unit to my ear to hear above the rushing wind.  I heard two clicks of static less than a second apart.  I take it the message was received.

There were a few pops carried on the wind, gunshots.  I asked into the radio, “Hailey?”  There were two bursts of static in reply, and I sighed in relief.

The police had arrived, and I relayed that as they circled the building as I spiraled even higher up.  Some officers found the man in the alley and then men were rushing to their location, and I warned Hai that they were going into the building.

Then my heart started racing as the roof access door slammed open and Dorian came running out, looking frantically around then hiding behind a slowly turning roof vent.  I started to say, “She's on the roof, I'm...”

I paused as I prepared to swoop when four men stepped out of the access door.  Three with assault rifles and one with a pistol.  Xerxes!  And Baldy was next to him as they scanned the roof.  I said, “Hailey?  They're on the roof, four of them, they're going to find her!  Hurry!”  Two bursts of static.

I banked hard, my mini shadow following as I circled around behind the men and about a hundred yards up.  I growled, they wouldn't even see me coming.  My heart quickened as they approached her hiding spot and a man raised a rifle.  She raised her hands and backed to the edge of the roof.

Xerxes was saying something to her and to Kanton as they reached her.  Baldy lowered his rifle to her chest as I swooped, gaining speed.  Xerxes was yelling at her, waving his pistol around.  Come on, keep talking you... you asswaffle.

I dropped the radio as I gained more speed as I swooped to just above the roof coming at the four men from behind. I ripped past the roof access, the air pressure buffeting me from my close passing.  Hailey rolled out and fired her shotgun twice, sending the two other men spinning back to hit the rooftop, unmoving in a mist of red.

It was like the whole world just slowed down in that instant.  Kanton started twisting back toward the shots as Dorian's eyes got wide when she saw me.  She smiled and raised her hands higher, making a gripping motion.

I flipped my feet forward and then tucked my wings tight to my back and hit Mr. Kanton solidly in the jaw, feet first, like an Angelina shaped wrecking ball.  It felt like hitting a wall, and it hurt like hell like I had tried jumping out of a second-story window to land on my feet.

I snapped my wings wide and absorbed some of my momentum as I was carried past the bald mercenary to wrap both my arms and legs around Dori.  She latched onto me for dear life as the rest of my momentum took us over the edge of the roof.

I looked back as I fought to keep us aloft with powerful flaps of my wings.  To my horror, I saw Kanton stumble and fall over the edge of the roof.  I felt sick as bile rose in my throat.  I had... killed someone.

My hawk friend was in Xerxes' face, and the man was frantically flailing his arms to get it away as he stumbled over the parapet and followed his mercenary to a bloody death on the pavement five stories below.  My hawk soared off.

I, in the meantime, felt as if my wings were going to tear off of my back while I screamed in defiance as I stained under the added weight of Dori, who I refused to let go of, even if it cost my own life.  I heaved with the downstrokes to stabilize us and tried for the adjoining roof but couldn't maintain altitude.

I yelled, “Hang on!” Then I wrapped my wings around her to protect her as we slammed into the fourth story window of the building.  Glass shattered, and we were tumbling across an office floor.

My head was buzzing, my ears were ringing, and I hurt everywhere.  I unwrapped my girl who looked both terrified and elated.  We were alive!  I smiled at her and gave our traditional greeting, “Hi.”

She just leaned up and laid a hot, desperate lip-lock on me.  My body was buzzing for another reason at that.  I must have had a dopey smile on my face.  Then we heard more sirens arriving and she looked around, there was a terrified woman cowering in the corner of the office.

Dorian said, “We're ok now.  Get out of here, Angel.  It's over, and that bastard is dead now.  We'll handle the police.  See you at the club.”

I went to argue, but she pointed at the window expectantly and said, “Stacy says not to be a fool.  Go.”  She gave me a peck on the lips, and I grinned and shook the glass shards out of my feathers as I blushed at her.  I moved a lock of the black hair, which I still wasn't used to, out of my eyes and behind my ear then simply dove out the window.

It struck me again how natural it felt not to be afraid of plummeting to my doom when I did that.  I felt like I was abandoning the brown eyed, amazing girl, and Hailey, but I understood and couldn't argue their logic.  I just hoped that this wouldn't be the final straw with the police and the girls were about to get put through the meat grinder this time.

I started flapping immediately heading toward the Bay.  I glanced over when I vaulted over the rooftops and saw Hailey down on her knees with her hands laced behind her head even before the police officers started streaming onto the roof.

She looked up, and I swear the cocky woman winked at me.  Whether she actually did or not, I found myself blushing.  The smile on my face was wiped away when I saw the alley flash by.  Kanton's body wasn't far from where the other man had died, police surrounding both.  But... Xerxes was on his knees, hands behind his head just like Hailey as the police swarmed around him, weapons drawn.  How the fuck had he survived that fall?

I cursed a string of profanities as I flew off, weaving between buildings, trying to get out of the sightline of the general public as I worried about my girls.

I wound up approaching the place where it all began on the backroads, and I alighted on the roof of the Coit Tower.  I laid on my back just staring at the sky, my wings spread wide on the warm roof, and just let my mind wander.  I didn't want to think just then.

I smiled when my hawk landed on the edge of the roof to stare out over the Golden Gate City, and I sighed.  Even if Xerxes went away for his involvement in this mess, his descendants were still out there, still looking for me.  This felt more like a breather than the end to me, and it pissed me the hell off.

A moment later I wasn’t thinking about anything as I was hit by a wave of wishes that held me on the brink of insanity until I wasn't thinking at all when consciousness faded from me.  Was this my life now?

Chapter 14 – Wish

It was the middle of the next day when I finally saw movement in the apartment above the club from my vantage point on the roof across the street.

After I had regained consciousness, I hadn't slept, I hadn't eaten.  Keeping out of sight of the public as I staked out Hailey's club, hoping for their return.

I was starting to think that maybe they were going to be going away for a long time.  I can't believe the wave of relief I felt when I saw a light turn on.  The sun had just set and the twilight that sort of cloaked the city for those few minutes between the sun sinking under the ocean and true nighttime settled in, cast long shadows on the streets as the streetlights started winking on.

Dorian pulled the curtains aside and looked out the window.  I could see Hailey moving around inside.  The grin I had on my face turned into a smile as she scanned the sky, before opening the window and moving away.

I padded across the rooftop and said to the hawk who was gliding along above me, “Bye lady, thanks for keeping me company.” I dove off the roof and gracefully extended my wings and just glided to the window.  I swung my feet forward as I back-winged and alighted on the sill, grasping it with both hands.

I smiled at Dorian, who was starting to fix a meal while Hailey was stripping off her shirt from the other day as she headed to the bathroom.  I asked, “Mind if I join you, ladies?”

Dori squeaked in surprise and glee as she ran to me and dragged me through the window to hug me.  I couldn't get a word out because she was kissing me in desperation.  A happy fog enveloped me.  I could get used to that.

Hailey was grinning at the reunion, her shirt three-quarters off and still wrapped around her forearms as she said, “Welcome home darlin'.”

I blushed at the woman standing there in her bra.  Showing off all the interestingly tantalizing muscles and tattoos that made you just cock an eyebrow and drool.  I swallowed, “Ummm... you're...”

She looked down then back at us and winked and said, “They're just breasts, I'm pretty sure you have a pair yourself.”

She chuckled and almost sauntered into the bathroom.  Calling out as she shut the door, “Let me get some of this stench off me and then we can debrief.”

Dori was blinking at her with a silly grin as she said, “Oh I'll debrief her.”

I started to nod my agreement then snapped out of drool mode.  I blurted out as I shoved her shoulder, “Hey!”

She chuckled and then pulled me into anther tight hug.  She whispered, “We were so worried.”

I nodded. “So was I, Dor.  So was I.”

She said, “It probably isn't over.  But it is for now.  There was a money trail from Baldy to Xerxes.  They know he hired the men who killed Stacy, so we have a breather until his family can figure out what to do next.”

I nodded.  Good.  I doubted they would be able to make anything stick, he had centuries of practice being a slippery worm.  But as she said, this will at least give us a breather.  If it were months or even weeks, we'd be ready now that we know they are out there.

I exhaled and asked, “You cooking?  I'm starved.”

She sighed, recognizing that I was putting things off for now, and then just nodded and headed to the kitchen.

Once Hailey rejoined us, we shared what had happened over the prior twenty-four hours.  They released Dori after taking her statement since she was the 'victim' in all of this.  They put pressure on Hai for hours on end but the story she stuck to was that she got a call from her friend Dorian that some men were after her for some reason, and when she arrived at the Regency, she found the same men who had attacked her club twice, the men who had killed one woman, maimed another, and kidnapped poor Angelina.   Who was still missing.

None of the men were left alive to contradict her version of events, and for the most part, it held a lot of truth.  The only one to survive, Xerxes himself, wasn't talking.  So they had to release her, though they have confiscated her firearms until the case is closed and Xerxes trial is over.

The news media has been abuzz about the flying woman seen in the area of the gunfight.  There was tons of grainy footage from cell phones.  It was being discounted as a hoax someone was playing on the public or some elaborate stunt for an upcoming movie.

I had to smile when the two woman got into an argument, and Dorian held her middle finger in front of Hailey's face, and Hai's death glare turned into a smile as she shook her head then pulled the Mouse into a quick hug.  “You know.  You're ok for a street rat.”

My girl beamed at that as she answered with a sly smile, “You're ok for a MILF too.”

We shared a chuckle, and I had to retire.  I was so beyond exhausted and needed to sleep before I collapsed.

***

That's how I found myself at the hospital the following day with them.  My wings held tight to my back under an overcoat, my violet contacts, and my black hair now half electric blue, and half cotton candy pink after they bleached it that morning.  Radically changing my appearance yet again.  I looked nothing like what people were calling, the raptor-woman, nor did I look remotely like the Angelina Drake I knew.

The police protection for Billie had been recalled since the threat was apparently over now that the man responsible for the violence was in custody and the one on the club's surveillance video was dead.

We stepped up to the nurse's station at the ICU and Hailey asked, “Hello, I called earlier, Hailey Frost.  I was told I could visit with Willamina Beaumont for a few minutes.”

The nurse's curious look was replaced with one of genuine concern as he said, “Oh. You haven't heard?”

It felt like I had a stone that was growing in the pit of my stomach at his tone.  It was genuine regret.  Had Billie...  had she?

He said as he looked back at the room, “She coded about an hour ago.  They were able to revive her and get her stabilized.  Her subdural hematoma had caused more intracranial pressure than anticipated …  she's.”

I was looking all around his desk, looking for a chart as I was just peripherally aware of his words as he said, “They have her hooked up to life support until her parents can get here from their missionary retreat in Zimbabwe, but there is no detectable brain activity.  We are just waiting to hear from next of kin.”

I said in a hoarse voice,  “She's my friend.  I have to see her.”

I laid a hand on him in my desperation, and I swayed as I heard in a dozen voices speaking, all of them his, “I wish I didn't have to give bad news like this, why the hell can't the doctors do it?”

He nodded as I shook my head to clear it of the need to do something to help the man get his wish.  I hated touching people now.  I didn't want to be privy to their inner thoughts.  It made me feel, dirty, soiled.

He sighed and said as he looked around, “I'm not really supposed to, but I really like your tats.  So, just one minute.”  I absently raised a hand to the now more prominent and plentiful chain of tattoos that Hailey had drawn on the side of my face and neck.  His eyes kept flicking to the 'hump' on my back, and I realized he was trying to be nice to the apparently 'disabled girl.'  I was ok with that if it got me in to see Billie.  I had lost Stacy, now her.  If there was no brainwave activity, then the machines were all that was keeping her alive.

I looked pleadingly at Dorian as we walked to the door.  She shook her head and said hopefully, “She's not with me.  Stacy is out of her mind with worry right now.”  I nodded, I understood.

We slipped into the room, the lights were low, and it felt unoccupied even with my friend laid out on the bed in front of me.  The only sounds were the monitors and the bellows in the ventilator as they kept her lungs and organs operating.

I sat beside her and grabbed her hand.  It felt so cold and clammy.  I tried to will her to wake up to tell us it was all just a mistake.  She had been joking and smiling when I last saw her here.  I reached over and looked at her chart and then studied the EEG.  It was basically flatlined except the normal, abnormal blips you got from randomly firing neurons in cases like this.

I knew it was irreversible, and I hated the world.  I hated any gods that may exist for letting this kind of thing happen.

I violently wiped a tear from my cheek as I straightened in resolve.  Dorian saw this and stared forward to stop me as I made my decision.  If one more chain on my soul was the price... I would pay that price.

My voice reverberated with power that seemed to shake the very foundations of creation as I reached for the power as I said the first two words that seemed to come from both a place of darkness and a place of such light and joy, “I wish...”

Millions of whispers tempted me with more once I did this, dangling seductive power in front of me, telling me not to stop with this wish.  It was so much worse than the first two times, it seemed to get more intense with each wish.  All the voices were mine, young and old, male and female, from every corner of time and space as I growled out, “I wish that Billie would have a miraculous recovery.”

My ears were starting to bleed from the sheer volume of the whispers which were too quiet to hear.  I fell forward as my vision dimmed but felt two sets of hands steady me, one set soft and comforting, and one set strong, like an iron vice.

I gasped for a breath of air as it all passed and I wiped my eyes, seeing blood smears on my sleeve.  My eyes were bleeding too.  I knew somehow that that wish was teetering on the boundary between being possible, and being the providence of the powers of creation that were beyond the reach of the curse, beyond that of the Djinn.

I turned to Billie.  Her dark skin looking so pale to me, with no vitality.  Then she suddenly opened her eyes and started to claw at the intubation tube that was down her esophagus, feeding her lungs with air.

I started sobbing as I grabbed her hands. “It's ok Billie.  Don’t touch it.  You're going to be fine now.”  I saw her panic receding and then her eyes locked on me, I saw a moment of confusion before they widened in recognition and she smiled around the breathing tube.

I was just yelling past the two women who were just staring in amazement, their hands pressed together against their lips like silent prayers, “Nurse!”

I turned back and laughed through my tears.  I was one step closer to my own end, but Billie was ok.  That was something I could definitely live with.  Especially with Dorian and Hailey by my side.

Epilogue

I hid in the alley behind the junior high school, I could hear the coach calling my name. “Leo?”  I wasn't about to come out.  He had just sat there at practice doing nothing as the other kids mocked me about my dad killing himself last month.

It was getting worse and worse.  Either people treated me like I was fragile or like a freak because my dad would do something like that.  I'm so confused, and it hurts so much all the time.  I wish I could apologize for whatever I did that made him want to leave me.

I wish God would just come and take me too.  I don't deserve to live.  I don't want to live.  I smiled at that.  It was so clear to me now.  If I were dead, there wouldn't be any more pain.  I started looking for a bottle to break to accomplish my task when I heard someone running down the alley.

I moved back as a violet eyed woman came rapidly toward me.  She had blue and pink hair, with intricate tattoos on the side of her face, going down her neck.  She was so pretty.

I heard the teacher yelling my name again, getting closer, “Leo?”

The woman just skidded to a stop and stared at me almost frantically then exhaled in relief.  She smiled and cocked her head at me in an almost birdlike manner and then she shrugged out of the long trench coat she wore.  She said as I gawked at her, “God says it isn't your time yet, Leo.  I promise things will get better.  Just be strong.”

Then great wings spread out behind her, blotting out the sun, creating a halo of light around her.  She smiled, took two running steps, then took to the air.  I realized I was crying as I watched the angel, who God had sent down to me, fly away.

I sobbed for a moment before pulling myself together and bent to pick up a large white feather at my feet.  She had said it, hadn't she?  Things were going to get better.  I exhaled a breath and it felt like a poison was being pushed out of me as I just stared at the impossible feather.

The teacher bellowed again, “Leo!?”

I looked to the sky but my angel was nowhere to be seen, I smiled and wiped my eyes on my sleeve and ran toward the calling voice, “Coming coach!”

The End

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Novels by Erik Schubach

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Books in the Djinn series...

Cursed

Books in the Urban Fairytales series...

Red Hood: The Hunt

Snow: The White Crow

Ella: Cinders and Ash

Rose: Briar's Thorn

Let Down Your Hair

Hair of Gold: Just Right

The Hood of Locksley (Summer 2016)

Books in the Techromancy Scrolls series...

Adept

Soras

Masquerade (Fall 2016)

Books in the Drakon series...

Awakening

Dragonfall

Books in the Valkyrie Chronicles series...

Return of the Asgard

Bloodlines

Folkvangr

Seventy Two Hours

Titans

Books in the Bridge series...

Trolls

Traitor

Unbroken

Books in the Fracture series...

Divergence

Books in the Paranormals series...

Fleas

This Sucks

Jinx (Winter 2016)

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Short Stories by Erik Schubach

(These short stories span many different genres)

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Lost in the Woods

Rift Jumpers: Faster Than Light

Scythe

Snack Run

Something Pretty

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Romance Novels by Erik Schubach

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Books in the Music of the Soul universe...

(All books are standalone and can be read in any order)

Music of the Soul

A Deafening Whisper

Dating Game

Karaoke Queen

Silent Bob

Five Feet or Less

Broken Song

Syncopated Rhythm

Progeny

Girl Next Door

Lightning Strikes Twice

June

Dead Shot

Music of the Soul Shorts...

(All short stories are standalone and can be read in any order)

Misadventures of Victoria Davenport: Operation Matchmaker

Wallflower

Accidental Date

Holiday Morsels

Books in the London Harmony series...

(All books are standalone and can be read in any order)

Water Gypsy

Feel the Beat

Roctoberfest

Small Fry

Doghouse

Minuette

Squid Hugs

The Pike

Flotilla

Books in the Pike series...

(All books are standalone and can be read in any order)

Ships In The Night (Fall 2016)

Books in the Flotilla series...

(All books are standalone and can be read in any order)

Making Waves (Fall 2016)

The Pike: Ships In The Night, sample chapter...

Prologue

I sneezed in the cloud of flour dust as I pushed into the back kitchen of my sister's bakery, carrying a tray of dishes for the washer.  I froze and squinted my eyes at the giggling from said evil sister, Zoey as she chuckled. “You sound like a little squeaky toy when you sneeze Eve.”

I lifted my chin imperiously and just marched past her. “I'm not the one with flour on her ass.  I'm not sure I wanna know how you got it there.”  I blew a lock of my red hair from my eyes as I put the dishes on the rack and hit the button to start it moving through the automated dishwasher.

I stopped at the little sink and washed my hands as I added, “Three bread bowls table two, and we are running low on croissants in the front case.  We just had a run on them.”

She saluted, getting flour on her forehead as she said with a grin, “Got it, oh short one.”

I crinkled my nose at her, it would be too easy to defend the short jab with her hair flopping out of the hairnet like that.  I chose the high road but opted for, “Whatever Raggedy Ann.”

She chuckled at the old insult we threw back and forth.  It was sort of all purpose for us since we both shared mom's red hair.  Zoey got the height, I got the brains.  Well fine whatever, she's smart too.

I've never seen her happier since she became the controlling partner in The Pike Bakery.  She loves cooking, and she loves people.  This was the dream job for her, and now she was the owner of the place.  Mrs. Zatta before her; God rest her soul; ran The Pike alone.  After her passing, the local media shone a spotlight on the place since so many influential people in the area, like my Aunt Mandy and Aunt Anabella attended the service.

The business exploded, and Zoey couldn't handle everything on her own with so much more traffic.  So super Eve to the rescue!  I moved up from Vancouver and into her guest room to help out, it was so much easier than the two-hour commute each way I was doing the first week or so.

I heard the old antique shop bell that hung above the glass entry door from the hall of the building of the Post Alley building at Pike Place Market here in Seattle, Washington.

I smiled as I looked up, the morning rush was in full swing. We opened at six in the morning for all the people rushing to get to their jobs.  It was mostly foot traffic this early, until the opening bell of Pike Place Market, then the inexorable wave of tourists started flowing in for more of the sit-down and take your time variety of patrons.

I was just so fascinated with the variety of people we saw in a day.  I was a people person.  Well, I'm a people too, so it isn't hard to find other people fascinating.  I may be slightly more hyper and talkative than your average people unit, but I got most of the same circuitry.

I smoothed my little green apron and looked at the young woman who stepped in, hugging her oversized bag to her chest, looking a little afraid and unsure as she looked around the bakery.  She was not much taller than my five foot one. And she had some gorgeous, lustrous black wavy hair that framed her Pacific Islander face.

I liked her face, it was cute and had just a bit of baby fat that gave her a young look that was belied by her eyes that were so dark they were almost black.  Those eyes popped out at you from behind the huge round, black-rimmed glasses she wore that just made her look brainy to me.  Those sharp eyes conveyed a sharp intelligence I have only seen a couple times in my life.

The girl was dressed plainly in a yellow top, sort of frumpy jeans.  What caught my attention were her hightop Sketchers that had holes worn in the sides and beakers and atoms drawn all over them.  They were obviously something special to her that she would keep them long after they had worn out.

She looked at our small expanded metal tables and then the two people at the counter I was helping.  Then almost timidly she sat down, still holding the bag desperately to her chest.  The poor girl looked almost distressed.

I looked at the big man who was deciding between some blueberry muffins and the last croissant in the case and I smiled at him and the lady in line behind him and asked them as I bounced on my toes, “Would you excuse me for just one moment, Joe?  I'll be right back.”

The man looked down at me and grinned, “Sure thing Eve.”

The woman behind him wasn't as easily placated with a smile.  I scrunched my head down to my shoulders and gave her an apologetic look as I held up a finger and as I scooted past her, said, “Just one sec.”

I stepped up to the table where the woman sat, her lips were moving, and I couldn't quite make it out.  And not to toot my own horn, but I'm a damn good lip reader, my Aunt Anabella taught me.  She's deaf, and a retired Congresswoman to boot.

She was mumbling something about phase shifts and some words I didn't pretend to know.  I gave a little hop to land beside her, and I grinned as the woman looked up at me.  I said, “Hello there.  Welcome to The Pike, I'm Eve.  What can I get for you, hun?”

She looked at me then back at the door like she was deciding whether to bolt or not.  It was the same look that one of our family friends, Mia Jacobs got when there were people she didn't know around.  Then she said, “At six twenty-three I stop at Common Grounds Java.  I get my coffee and onion bagel for four dollars and fifteen cents.  At six fifty-one I leave to catch the number seven bus to the university and arrive every day at seven-ten.”

She looked back at the door, and I placed a hand on her shoulder, this got her attention back on me.  I said, “That's pretty specific.  But Common grounds went out of business.  Friday was their last day.”  It was sad to see the coffeehouse go.

They used to be just a block up from us on First, but the economy was tanking, especially with the hellish cost of leasing in the area.  We had a sweetheart deal and were paying less than half the current going rate for as long as the Pike stayed here at Post Street.  I can't imagine how some of the other independently owned shops that weren't in the market itself like us survived.

She nodded and said without meeting my eyes, “I researched alternative locations in the proximity of the first street stop of the number seven bus that would have both coffee and onion bagels while having optimum egress to allow for minimal interruption of my routine.  Thus allowing me to concentrate on my calculations without altering my schedule by more than one point four minutes.”

Holy Spock Batman!  This woman was one of those Beautiful Mind people.  This sort of tripled her cuteness to me, so I grinned and sat across from her and asked semi-seriously because I was fascinated, “Surely we aren't the only place in the proximity of the bus stop that has coffee and bagels.”

She nodded. “One would think.  But the three establishments that would be least likely to impact my schedule are Dolly's, Emerald City Coffee House, and The Pike.  I've done extensive research.”  She nodded enthusiastically, and I could tell she liked research.

Then she continued brightly when she saw me smiling at her, “While all three establishments do indeed have the coffee and onion bagels I require, and all three serve black coffee, Dolly's has only margarine spread, and I put butter on my bagels.  Emerald City has the option of either margarine or butter, but has only strawberry and grape jelly instead of apricot.”

So she nodded like she was piecing together a great puzzle. “So after spending two hours scouring social media sites and news articles on The Pike, I have ascertained that you indeed have onion bagels, a choice between butter or margarine and that you order apricot jam from a local supplier in Walla Walla.”

I was about to speak when she spoke again. “The only thing my research didn't reveal was if you used sugar packets or if you had sugar cubes for the coffee.  I use one lump, not two.  The odds of probability showed a high likelihood that an establishment with The Pike's pedigree would offer its clientele sugar cubes was eight six-point-three seven eight percent.  So I decided to do field observation to determine if you did indeed offer sugar cubes instead of sugar or artificial sweetener packets.”

I was grinning like a loon.  I liked this woman, a lot.  I don't know if she realized how endearing the way she spoke like this was what any rational person would do for coffee and bagels was.  I leaned on my elbows and rested my chin on my hands as I cocked one eyebrow and asked, “That would be a deal breaker huh, sweetie?”

She gave me an apologetic look and sighed and nodded.  “I would have to take time away from calculations to research the area and alternative bus lines to determine the optimal route and timing to get to work from the ferry docks.  It would be disruptive until I could streamline a new routine, but in the long run, worth it if it eliminates any long-term disruption that could cause chaos or entropy, depending on the law of static returns you prefer.”

I lowered my hand's to the tabletop and clasped them and opened my mouth, but she again beat me to it.  I was usually the Chatty Kathy in any given situation.

“So I put it to you.  Am I erroneous in my assertions?”

I tilted my head and looked at her, as she looked on in anticipation with those puppy dog eyes full of hope.  I was happy to tell her as I stood and winked, “One coffee, black, with one cube of sugar, one onion bagel with butter, not margarine, and apricot jam, not strawberry... coming right up.”

She exhaled audibly in relief and her smile bloomed.  It looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.  Then she called after me as I scurried off, “And could I get that to go?  I have used up two point three minutes of my allocated time for consumption.”

I nodded at her as she almost gleefully pulled out some sort of book and papers and spread them on the little table as I went to help the customers I had abandoned.  Then I went about getting her order ready for her.  I put the bagel and fixins in one of our plain brown paper bags that had “The Pike” printed in dark brown on the front.

I brought it and the coffee in one of our insulated to-go mugs to her and set them down as I pulled out my sharpie.  She looked up from some notes she was scribbling.  I hadn't seen such complex formulas since the last time I saw Vicky Davenport.  The book she had was titled, Advanced String Theory in Predictive Quantum State Algorithms.

I blinked, she was some sort of rocket scientist super genius or something.  She looked up at me, and I asked, “What's your name, hon?”

It was her turn to blink like she wasn't used to social interaction then she said, “Oh... it's Ligaya Imelda Hannigan.”

I smiled, not the last name I had expected, I was expecting something pretty and Filipino like her first and middle name.  I winked and said as I wrote on the coffee cup, “I'm just going to put Liya on here.  We only give these out to regulars, they're much sturdier than the cardboard cups and are reusable.  But it sounds like you are a creature of habit so I'll make an exception for you.  We'll have another just like it on that back shelf.”  I indicated the shelf of thermal cups behind the display case.

I explained, “That way you just bring in your dirty one and we swap them out and wash the old one for the shelf.”

She nodded with a little appreciative grin. “That is very efficient.”

I offered my hand to her. “My name is Eve Rand.  Welcome to the Pike family Liya.”

The girl blushed and started gathering her papers and stuffing them into her bag.  “Thank you, Miss Rand.”

I corrected her, “Eve.”

She nodded and said, “I'll make the adjustment.”  Then she slung the bag over her shoulder and stood.  “If you will excuse me, I have just over five minutes and twelve seconds to arrive at the bus stop.”

I gave her a tiny wave from my hip.  “See you tomorrow at six twenty-three Liya.  Have a great day.”

Sh paused and looked at the coffee and brown bag in her hand and gave a beaming smile and said like it was a complete surprise to her, “I think I will, thank you, Eve.”

I watched her go and then wiped my hands on my apron and headed toward a man who walked in when she left.  “Welcome to The Pike, how can I help you today?”

Someone stepped in behind him, the little bell jingling over the door and I grinned.  Then I said while the man looked up at the handwritten menu whiteboards, “One moment sir.”

I went through the door to the kitchen and said to Zoey as I grabbed the tray of fresh out of the oven croissants to stock the front case, “Sparky just arrived.”

Zoey smiled and said, “One breakfast bread bowl coming up.”

Sparky was one of our regulars.  She was a firefighter with the Seattle Fire Department before her accident.  Monday through Friday she was in here like clockwork on her way to physical therapy.  I was pretty stoked when the cheerful woman came in one day three weeks back and saw she had traded in the wheelchair for a cane.

But she always seemed so lonely to me, starved for human interaction.  Besides coming in for therapy, it sounded like the woman just hid away at her place on Gig Island.  So she was always chatting with Zoey and me between customers.

She needed someone in her life to break her out of her comfort zone.  I paused at the door as I remembered to grab another thermal mug to write Liya's name on it.  I stared at the mug as I got a mischievous grin.  Yeah...

Zoey muttered from beside me, “Great mother of all that is fluffy and right in the world.  You have that look.  Don't meddle Eve.”

I just gave her a smirk and headed back out into the bakery as I asked as innocently as I could, “Who me?”