Featherlight (18 page)

I remembered his promise, and I
knew that the chase would soon begin. The past week allowed me to get a firm
understanding of this world. At night, I had been reading novels. Although
romance novels were never my cup of tea, I had used them to comprehend my
current situation. On Earth, girls read books about Mary Sue women who needed
to be defended by some strong, handsome man. My theory that this planet would
also have its own type of stereotypical romance couple proved correct.

Book after book had the same
love theme. A beautiful woman with beautiful brown or golden wings was won over
by some dashing man after a long and exhausting chase. Then, the man would seal
the deal, so to speak. He would work his mojo and wrap the victim in a mental web
of capture. Well, the novels didn't describe it in such blatant terms, but
that's ultimately how it was. After the man caught her they would have some
long and amazing sex in the wilderness because, all of a sudden, the woman
would realize that she really was in love with this man. The End.

After I finished my third novel
that followed this theme, I wanted to throw the book at a wall. The only useful
thing I learned from these stories was information about the chase. Apparently,
a force is what dictated it. The man and woman could
feel
when the chase
was over. Otherwise, a woman would keep on running away every chance she got.
In the novels, the man had to pin her for seven or so seconds. Then, the need
to flee and chase would fade away, and a bond would be made.

Kill me now.

This information would be
needed, only I was not going to be captured, and I was most definitely not
going to engage in exhausting wilderness sex after making some huge revelation.

Poor John was in for a
surprise.

Part XVIII

“I beat it!” I yelled upon my
entrance into the house. It was late in the day, and I was exhausted and exhilarated.

“What did you beat?” Rene was
playing an electronic board game in the living room with Jane.

“I beat the running record!” I
grinned triumphantly. Beating the record had been my goal for the past week. It
was hard work, but I finally did it.

Omar came inside the house and
I glanced over at him, still grinning. His mouth was turned up in a small
amused smirk.

“Jacque, about the running
record. There was one from many years ago, but you almost beat it on your first
day here. I had assumed you would work harder with a goal in mind, so I made up
the record.”

“You what?” I stood there,
staring. “What?”

How should I feel about this?
Thankful? Betrayed?

“I’m sorry, Jacque. I just
needed you to push yourself, and you did.”

I began glaring daggers at
Omar.

To distract me, Rene asked,
“How fast did you run?”

“Umm, I don’t know. I ran 12
laps in 4 minutes though.”

I remembered how it felt to fly
across the track. My weight was so light here, and my feet barely touched the
ground. As if aiding my spirit, the wind from an approaching storm had whipped
about wildly. Black clouds covered the eastern sky, and I loved it. The
thunderhead reminded me of home, when hungry storms would spring out of nowhere
and unleash a flurry of wind, hail, and rain.

The past few days had been much
like a storm. They flew by with chaotic speed and energy. My skills had grown rapidly
and my body became dangerously thin and lean. After running every day, my
muscles had strengthened and flourished. When Omar told me I beat the record,
my heart soared. If I beat the record, then no man could catch me. If no man
could catch me, then no man would win the chase. I was finally free.

“Very impressive, Jacque,” Rene
said.

Yes, Rene. Little did I know
that I had actually beat the record days ago.

The front door opened, and John
walked inside. I glanced his way, still slightly annoyed at Omar, and had to
force myself to look elsewhere. Drat that man and his good looks.

Jane turned his way. “Ah, John.
You’ve returned. How was your visit?”

“It was swell.” John kept
staring at me. How disturbing! “How has your training been, Jacque?”

“It has been tough, but good,”
I said, not wanting to reveal too much.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He was
looking at me like I was a dove, soon to be shot. My heart began fluttering
with fear and indignation.

Rene cleared her throat and
steered me to the kitchen. The front doors opened again, and Samantha and
Marshal entered. Their appearance surprised me as much as it surprised Jane.

We both stopped and Jane
greeted them.

As I was quietly leaning up
against the wall, Samantha said, “Jacque! How are you?”

“I’m doing well! And you?” I
replied.

“Oh, Roya has gone wild since
you’ve arrived. The eligible men are angry that we whisked you away. Come,
come! We have much to discuss,” she said with enthusiasm, leading me away from
the living area and kitchen.

I would have willingly followed,
but something seemed strange. I looked over my shoulder. The rest of the group
was still in the living room, but John and Marshal were staring at each other.
They must have been having some kind of silent conversation about me, because
John glanced my way. Rene and Jane were both watching the Marshal and his son.

“Is anything wrong?” Sam asked
me with concern.

“No, no, everything is fine.
Actually, Sam, I am feeling exhausted. I think I’m just going to go take a
shower and get to sleep. We can talk about everything in the morning.”

Samantha looked at me with
interest, trying to judge if I were really tired. It didn’t take too much
effort on my part to look sleepy.

“Oh, okay. You catch up on some
sleep. You’ve had a tiring week,” she smiled and I entered my room and closed
the door.

Immediately, I turned on the
shower and returned to my door. Knowing that they would all hear the running
water, I pressed my ear to the crack to listen shamelessly to their
conversation.

John was speaking. “No, it has
barely been a week.”

Marshal’s voice held an angry
edge. “Now, John. She is already the fastest of our kind.”

“She is the fastest
runner
.
She can’t fly a mile yet!”

How could I be so stupid? I
beat the running record. What about the flying one? I wasn’t safe, not yet. In
my eagerness to be the fastest runner, I completely forgot that the chase would
most likely take place in the air. I had been flying every day, of course, but
John was right. I couldn’t fly far at all, much less fly fast. My body had been
exercised on Earth, but my wing muscles had not.

“All the more reason to catch
her now! Besides, King and Peter have been trying to track her, hoping that she
is still New. Son, you shouldn’t feel guilty. She has had training and will be
able to hold her own for a little while before you take her, so there is no
need to feel poorly,” Marshal said.

“Dad, I…” For the first time,
John’s voice lost its deep commanding quality. He sounded defeated. “Okay, I’ll
do it the next time I see her. But only because I can’t stand to see her get
caught by anyone else. She is too rare.”

My heart was pounding wildly as
I eased my ear from the door and locked it. A panic attack was threatening my
sanity. To sum it up, we had a dashing young man with large amounts of money,
women falling at his feet, and an important future role wanting to be my
partner. He was perfect, if one could forget about the fact that he was about
to force me into a relationship without my consent. Screw that.

What was I going to do? I had
to escape. I couldn’t stand being at the mercy of some man for the rest of my
life. Never again. John can kiss my non-consensual butt goodbye as I run away.

There were no windows in my
bedroom, but there was one in my bathroom. The shower had created a thick
steamy mist that surrounded me as I headed towards the window. It was blurry,
only letting in light. I tapped gently on it, to see if it were thick. It was.
Think,
Jacque, think!

I grabbed the metal chair by
the counter and swung it at the window. The chair cracked the glass with a
thud. I hit it again with growing desperation. Surely they must hear this.

By the third swing, the glass
gave way with webbing cracks. I used my hands to break enough of the window for
my body to fit through. Soon enough, thin blood dripped down my arm. I stood on
the chair and swung my right foot through the frame, being careful not to hurt
my wings. Here was the tricky part. Using my hands to hold my weight, I jumped
sideways out the window and landed in a painful and ungraceful heap on the
ground.

Freedom.

I took off without looking
back. My shoes pounded across the ground, creating a dust storm in my wake. The
sky rumbled and lightning flashed. The clouds were slowly exploding and
preparing for a massive attack on the ground. It wasn’t dark, but the air held
a yellow hue and a nighttime feel. I took a large whiff of the air and
discovered that freedom smelled like fear and rain.

Everyone must have heard the
window break. How big of a head start did I have? It would take them a minute
to knock down my bedroom door, and another to knock down the bathroom door,
assuming they didn’t immediately guess that I had escaped through the window.

The hairs on the back of my
neck rose. The soft noise of beating wings drifted to my sensitive ears.
No
no no!
How was this possible? I should have had at least a four minute head
start. I should have been at least three miles away before they came after me.
I glanced over my shoulder.

From the air, Peter slowly smiled
like a predator. A wild predator hunting prey or a sick predator hunting
children, take your pick. Why did I look? I knew better than to look.
Simultaneously, his eyes and wings darkened to a deep black.

A previous conversation came to
mind.

“It
will be a true chase if the man’s eyes and wings become dark. Then you know
he’s playing for keeps.”

My stomach dropped as my
instincts screamed.
Run
.

So I ran. My wings unfolded
from my back, and I flew. I had mastered the rhythm of soaring and was able to fly
slightly coherently. At least I was moving faster than I was running. The sky
was an angry mass of dark clouds. Another flash of lightning caused a spike of
adrenaline to fuel my fear. I felt nauseous and anxious. Run.

A blast of cool air from the
storm slammed into me. I wobbled dangerously, and Peter’s voice called out,
“That’s endearing!”

"I have dreams! I have ambitions,
you asshole!" My flying might be iffy, but my lungs worked fine.

Peter caught up, his dark wings
easily carrying him along. I tried to fly faster. This was a nightmare.

“It won’t be that bad. You’ll
even come to enjoy it,” he said from behind me. By the tone of his voice, I
knew to what he was hinting.

"I had a life and a family
and a home and you all ripped it away!” At this point, I wasn’t talking about
Peter specifically. Right now, I was just angry at his whole race, and I wasn’t
making a whole lot of sense. It was kind of hard to do that when your body was
fighting with its whole being for freedom.

Peter was suddenly flying above
me. I dropped lower to create distance, and he sandwiched me in between the
ground and his body. I was four feet from the hard packed dirt, just enough to
keep my wings from touching it on their down-beat. He stopped beating his wings
and began gliding, slowly sinking closer and closer. This was the end. This was
it.

He wrapped his arms around my
midsection and lifted us into the air, spinning and soaring. I let my body go
limp and tried to pry his arms off of me. My nerves were on fire, wanting me to
get away and run, but I couldn’t. He was too strong. I was too weak. I was
helpless. The chase was ending all too soon. My body knew, and the need to run
began to fade slowly. A sense of loss hit me, and I felt the beginning tendrils
of excitement and lust creep into my veins. This wasn’t right. This was wrong.
It was so terribly wrong to feel those things, but I couldn’t help it.

A memory of my father came to
mind.

He was hitting my mom, over and
over again. I was hiding in the closet. Helpless.

Another memory, this one of my
sixth birthday, invaded my panicked state.

‘Shhh, hush. You’re
helpless. Shhh.’ A hand closed over my mouth. The other hand reached around to-

"No!" I screamed, my
voice shattering the night. Thunder boomed an answering plea overhead.

I was desperate. My instincts
knew that the chase wasn’t officially over yet. That memory reminded me of a
man’s weakness. Right now, I was in the perfect position to do a cheap shot.

Without thinking, I swung my
right leg forward and kicked back as hard as I could. The kick hit home. Peter
groaned and his arms loosened. I pried myself free from his hold and began
falling from the sky.

We were only thirty feet up at
that point, but my fall felt like an eternity. The fear and the need to run
kicked in again, and my wings snapped open in response.

I had never felt so free, and I
had never felt so fearful. My past chased my body into the approaching storm at
an unimaginable speed. Oh, I had thought myself so fast on the track. I had no
idea of what true speed was until this moment. Fear was the ultimate motivator.
Right now, it was encouraging me to push my body to its limit.

I soared into the sky
instinctively, only afraid of the threat at my back. This stormy force that I was
flying into reminded me of the Texas tempests. I wanted so badly to be back
there, innocently reading a book and wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket.

An upward gust of wind hit my
right wing and I spiraled downward several times. After righting myself, I
continued flying upward. To be electrocuted, you have to be touching the
ground, right?