Death Takes Wing (30 page)

“Stayed here next to you,” he said quietly, gently shoving Sam out of the way to stand next to her.

“The whole time?” she asked, a sigh heaving from her chest as she became overbalanced and almost fell over backwards.

He gave her a queer look after he helped her find her balance.  “For you, I would have stayed decades,” he replied lightly.

She offered him a smile.  “Decades?  Really?  Do you use that line on every girl?”

He laughed and put his hand on the small of her back, helping her stand straight.  “Only you.”

She laughed and tried to take another step, but found herself losing her balance.

“Lia?” Sam asked as she watched Amalia trying to walk.  When Amalia looked at her, she continued.  “Remember riding lessons?  Imagine a string pulling you straight?”  When Amalia gave her a puzzled look, she continued, “that’s what you have to do not to lose your balance with the wings.”

Amalia tried the formerly ingrained lesson, and Sam was right.  Standing perfectly straight was the only way not to fall over backwards.  She slowly made her way to the stair, following Matt.

“Amalia,” Gabriel said slowly behind her, “Aleks isn’t dead.”

Amalia whirled around, her muscles screaming at her for the sudden movement.  She hit
the wall as she lost her balance.  Clutching the bannister, she felt her breath hitch and her heart race.  “What?  Why not?”

He shifted uncomfortably, a look of hatred flashing through his eyes.  “No.  He’s still alive.  Matt and Sam went back in once we got you and the others to safety.  To look for him.  The blood was still there, but he wasn’t.”

She felt her heart clench, unsure if it was because he was alive or that he wasn’t.  “I’m sorry, Gabriel,” she said awkwardly, “ I know you and Aleks were – “

“Not nearly as close as what I thought,” he said bitterly, laying a gentle hand on her back.  “If we were, he would have come to me with Nikita’s problem instead of doing those obscene experiments at the ruin of countless lives.”

“What happens now?” she asked as Matt helped her slide into the low back chair that would become very familiar.

Gabriel shrugged and sat next to her, watching Sam and Matt join them.  “There’s always another job.  For now, we rest.  The Opprimere – the Force – is cleaning up the lab and debriefing everyone involved in the experiment.”

“What’s ‘the Force’?” she asked before she took a bite of overly jammed toast.  She grimaced at the overt sweetness and sat it back down.  She chose a piece of sausage, dipping it in maple syrup before tasting it.  Too sweet.  She frowned and looked at Gabriel who stared steadfastly at her.

“None of this tastes right,” she complained, setting the sausage back down.

He smiled. “Enhanced senses, remember?  You’ll adjust.”

“The Force is the cleanup crew, so to speak,” Matt said as he chose a piece of his blackened toast and liberally coated it with nutella and peach jam.

“So we get a break?” Amalia asked, needed to confirm that she wasn’t in danger.  “No one is going to come after me?”

“Well, Aleks isn’t.  At least he’d better not.  If he does - ”  Gabriel said, cutting himself off.  “But this
lab?  I’m not entirely convinced it was just the work of Aleks and Jessamyn.”

“It wasn’t,” Amalia said as she spread a thin swipe of jam on another piece of toast.  Just right.  She wiggled in her seat, feeling the wings behind her.  She smothered a shudder as she thought about just how much her life was going to change.

“How do you know?” Gabriel questioned, poking at a piece of bacon before popping it in his mouth.

“One of the letters Jessamyn had; it talked about a ‘benefactor’, someone with the first letters of ‘Ow,” Amalia said, offering him a smile.

“Owen?” Gabriel questioned with an upraised eyebrow.

She shrugged.  “That’s my thought.”

Turning to Gabriel, Sam gave him a bright smile.  “So, we can fly, right?”

Gabriel laughed and shook his head before pulling out another piece of bacon.

“So, what the hell is up with my eyesight?” Amalia said in a rush as she stared at the newly designed wallpaper.

Gabriel cocked his head and looked from her to Matt.  “What are you talking about?”

“Everything is different,” she complained, gesturing towards the bark-like designs on Matt’s otherwise drab wings.

“Patterns and stuff?” Sam questioned as she grabbed a pancake and plopped it on a plate.

Amalia nodded, “yeah, and other stuff.  Like Gabriel’s hair.”

He cocked his head again and stared at her.  “What about my hair?”  He ran a hand through his hair, finding it as he’d left it, clean and curly.

“It’s not just black,” she said.

“No, it’s not,” he said slowly, staring at her.  “It never has been.”

“It was to me,” she corrected, returning his stare.

“Seriously?” he raised his eyebrows in interest at her.  “You really couldn’t see the red?”

She shook her head, denying his question.  “Not until I changed.  And Matt’s wings?  Now, those have designs.”

“Always had them,” Matt said with a shrug.  “I can tell you what’s happening, though.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him expectantly.  “Well?” she prompted when he didn’t answer.

“Part of being an angelus.  Call it a secret initiation,” Matt said with a smirk.  He crossed his hands behind his head, feeling the feathers brush against them.

“I don’t like secrets,” Amalia complained, leaning back in the chair.

“Get used to them,” Matt advised.

“Why?” she said, still whining.

“Because he,” Matt said, motioning towards Gabriel, who was starting to stand, “is full of ‘em.”

She grimaced and shook her head.  “So I’m solan?” she said, figuring she had to be since Donovan had been one.  She pulled her wings tight against her back, feeling the warmth radiate from them.

“Pretty sure,” Matt said with a shrug.

“Pretty sure?” she echoed, narrowing her eyes at him.  “Why aren’t you ‘completely sure’?”

He shrugged again before grabbing a piece of charcoaled bacon from the small stack.  “According to Jessamyn’s notes, you have both an umbren and an angelus in the same generation.  Your great-grand-generation, like I said before.  It was a crapshoot as to which one would be dominant.  For your brother, it was the solan.  For you, it could be either.”

“How long until we know?  I mean, shouldn’t I know already?  I have the wings, so shouldn’t I have the rest?”  She grabbed a slice of apple.  She was starving, and she wasn’t sure why.  Her stomach rumbled despite having eaten a bit already.  Matt slid a glass of cold milk at her and she downed it like she’d never see another glass.

He smiled at her patronizingly.  “Soon.  If you start getting loose canines, that’ll be the first sign.  Start to feel like you’re tired and run-down?  Second sign.  For now, we’ll register you as a solan.”

“Register?” she felt a moment of heavy panic fleet over her.  She’d heard stories about human who were turned without following the proper channels.  It always turned out badly for them.  She started hyperventilating as she thought about the fate of those humans.

Gabriel nodded, and then took a sip of the cooling coffee.  He looked outside.  Flakes of snow were falling, just a few days before Thanksgiving.  “You don’t have to worry about any of the…consequences that are running through your head right now.”

She followed his gaze and shivered as she saw the flakes falling.  She wasn’t ready for winter.  Especially not now.  “Why not?”

He shifted uncomfortably.  “Aside from it not being your fault in any way, I can, uh, influence decisions.”

“How so?” she asked, pertly turning her gaze back to him.

He avoided her stare, standing next to the window.  “Because my mother is the Queen.”

“The Queen?  So you’re a prince?  Should I call you ‘Prince Gabriel’?” she asked, fairly sure that the answer was going to be ‘no’, but the librarian in her needed the confirmation.

He snorted a laugh and glanced at her.  “No, I’m not a prince.  That title doesn’t exist among the angelus.  So, no Captain Gabriel, and certainly not
Prince Gabriel.  Thankfully.  I have a big enough ego as it is,” he teased.

“But you could be the next King,” she pressed with a smile, ignoring his joke.

He shook his head with another grin, “Not very likely.  But the King, Victarian, has been asking questions, so I guess it’s possible.  Just not very likely,” he reiterated.  Another shrug.  He walked over to her, helping her stand.  He pulled her close and gently kissed her forehead.

His hands were warm on her back, providing the comfort she hadn’t known she craved.  “So, where do we start?”

“Work, of course,” he replied dryly, pulling back to look at her face.  “I don’t know about you two,” he said, gesturing towards Sam, “but I’d really like to find Aleks and wring his neck.  Among other things.”

As they climbed to their feet, Sam turned toward Matt with a wicked smile.  “So,” she said, “since vampires are based on umbren, do they sleep in coffins?”

Gabriel shot her a heated look before helping Amalia balance herself as she started to topple over backwards with a cry.  “Only if its velvet lined, with room for two,” he snapped with a grin.

Amalia felt like crying as she started to fall over again.  “I thought you said these weren’t heavy,”
she muttered as she walked towards the stair, stifling a smile as Lucy came trotting at her.

“I said no such thing,” Gabriel said, pulling her close, “All I said was that they aren’t hollow.  And they aren’t.  That’s why they weigh so much.”

“Will I get used to it all?” she asked wistfully thinking back to her human days.  Just yesterday, as a matter of fact.

He shrugged and kissed the top of her head, “Probably.  Give it a few days.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Matt said from the top of the stairs.  “If you don’t get used to it, we’ll track down Aleks after he’s found the cure and make him change you back.”

She turned to Gabriel.  “How do we track down Aleks?  Wouldn’t he be in super-hiding, or something like that?  Super-villain lair, maybe?”

“Naw,” Matt said, shaking his head as he walked towards the living room, “We already crashed his super-villain lair.  Obviously.  I mean, what else is a cold-war-bunker-turned-laboratory anyways?”

She stifled a laugh as she bumped into the couch, the weight of her wings throwing every movement off.  “I’m gonna be so bruised by the time I figure these things out,” she muttered to herself as she followed Matt.  Pausing near the couch to find her balance again, she stared at Matt.  “Why am I following you?”

He turned to her, flashing her a brilliant grin.  “Because you think I’m devilishly handsome and you’re repenting your umbren longings?”

A growl from behind her.  Laughter from Sam trickled up to her.  She giggled.  “As if.  I mean, when the sun shines in hell.  No offense, I mean.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh and opened the front door.  “None taken.  I suppose.”

“So why are we following you?  Other than because you have a nice – uh – never mind,” Sam finished with a smirk.

“Because I’m the smart one?” Matt suggested.

“If you’re the smart one, I feel for your children.  I feel very, very deeply for them,” Gabriel said as he walked out on the porch.

“If he’s the smart one, I’d feel sorrier for you own,” Amalia snipped as she clung to a porch rail for support.

“And that, my dear, is why we should all worry,” Gabriel replied.

“You know what I heard?” Sam said as she stood straight and stared at the two vehicles parked in front of them, and the Sheltie trying to herd the stationary vehicles.

“What?” Amalia asked as she stared at the ground, wondering if it was realistic for her to crawl everywhere.  Probably not.

“I heard that angelus are either smart or beautiful.  Something about the laws of genetics make it impossible for them to be both.”

“So how’s it feel to be brainless?” Amalia asked Matt.

Matt gave her another dazzling smile.  “Great!  I just followed Gabe for inspiration!”

Sam gave a throaty laugh and stretched her wings out.  “So,” she said, changing the subject, “now that I’m out of Sing Sing, how do we find the bastard that started it?”

“That’s where I’m headed,” Matt said as he walked down the worn boards.  The white paint that previously covered them was worn away down to the light grain of the oak.

“I believe we’re all following you.  So fess up.  Where we going?” Sam said, following Matt to this Jeep.

He gave Gabriel a desperate look, “you’re not going.”

She gave him a considering stare before giving him a calculating, beautiful smile.  “You can either take me with you, or I’ll follow you.  It’ll work out better if you choose the former.”

He turned his pleading gaze to Amalia, who ignored him.

Gabriel gave in with a bemused sigh.  “C’mon, Matt.  You saw how that worked with Amalia.  Just take her with you.”