Wings of Boden (20 page)

“I know what I heard. We have a sister named,
Penny.”

Her placating grin held as she studied me for
a beat, until her eyes widened and the grin fell away. “You’re
serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m serious. We can’t tell them we
know, though. Let’s just play along. I think Mom’s trying to get
Dad to—”

“Girls,” Dad called from the door of the den,
“time to study.”

Eyes on Angie, I hinted, “Quiet, right?”

She agreed with a light headshake.

Passing Dad on our way into the den, I raised
an icy glance at him, at his deceit.

The blinds were drawn shut over the windowed
wall. Amber shaded lamps here and there created a soft mood to the
room. Mom was sitting in a padded chair before Dad’s desk, a forced
posture, trying to gather herself, it seemed. She pushed her
fingers through long curtains of blond hair as if she was about to
tie it back, until she let it fall over her shoulders and did a
light headshake. My gaze went to the conference table to notice the
giant platter that once held all that fruit was empty.

“You girls aren’t wearing your jeans?” Mom
said. “It’s so nice to see you two in dresses. You’re both so
pretty.”

Angie commented behind me, “This room is too
dark. When are you gonna put some girl colors in here, Dad. I mean,
everything’s all, just. Brown. It’s depressing.”

Mom voiced out, “
Thank you
. I’ve been
trying to tell him that for years.”

While I stood at the conference table, I
asked, “Were you guys hungry or something?”

Mom grinned at me, and then replied with a
suggestive undertone, “Your father was very hungry.” She crossed a
leg, stacked her palms on her dress lap while her blue eyes
twinkled.

Whatever, Mom.

As much as I detested the thought, I wished
they had been— well, no, get outta my head. But it would’ve been
better than lying to us. It was not nice and I was disappointed in
them.

“Eew, Mom.” I played along with her game.

“You girls aren’t the only ones that can have
fun, you know.”

“All right,” Dad said, sitting in his desk
chair. “Get to studying girls. You need to learn a few things.”

Yeah, I sure do, he’s right about that.

With the possibility of learning something
about Dakarai, I tore myself away and marched over to the woven
throw rug before a ceiling-high bookcase. The ancient looking book
was ready for us on the rug, with notepads and pencils beside. A
study setup that seemed designed for children.

I snatched the book off the floor, turned.
“Grab the paper and pencils, Ang.” I tossed a scowl at Dad. “We’re
studying at the table this time.”

As I made my way to the conference table, Dad
said, “That’s fine, it’s probably better.” For some reason, it
sounded like he thought I was asking for permission.

The book
thunked
to the table. Dad and
Mom were probably looking at me. Whatever. I dropped into a chair,
flung the book open.

****

The rich aroma of coffee beans lingered in
the morning kitchen, the sound of the coffee maker bubbling out a
fresh pot. It’s funny how something can smell so wonderful, yet
taste so nasty, well, except for those special smoothie coffees I
often get from my favorite coffee shop, Boden’s Brew, THE ONLY WAY
TO FLY, they say. Their magical concoctions are pure heaven. I sat
at the breakfast nook table in my pink cotton PJ pants and T-shirt,
fluffy slippers, nibbling on a piece of raspberry jellied toast and
sipping some well-doctored coffee while I gazed out the window.
Angie was behind, preparing her toast to join me.

When Angie had first strolled in, in her
powder blue PJ’s and matching slippers, I couldn’t help but notice
her happy glow—her bright face, eyes glinting like green emeralds.
Her ray-of-sunshine attitude had me a bit confused, until a
fragment of memory from last night came skipping across my
mind—Angie’s giggling bedroom escapades with Jaydenn.

It got me thinking about the word, the big
three-letter word; Sex. Angie had just reached the age of twenty,
her magical number that she’d had her sights set on—since she and
Jaydenn had decided to wait until then—and seemed to be enjoying
herself a little
too
much.

I took a bite of toast, felt the seeds from
the raspberry jam between my teeth.

Curiosity filled me. Vyn and I had made a
promise to each other, or maybe a pact, to wait to have sex, but
there had been times of temptation. We’d both gone through our
Sex-Ed class back when we were just high school juniors. I still
remember looking at the pictures of the male, well, you know, and
feeling myself blush as I did so. Back then, I was more fascinated
than anything. I’d seen Vyn naked before, in the shower, or
“mistakenly” when he was sleeping in his boxers and I would catch a
“glimpse,” knowing that he was obviously in the middle of one of
those dreams, because his, um, well. It had looked so strong,
nothing like the pictures, and I would wonder whether I was in that
dream of his. Warmth would settle low in my belly, and I’d be
tempted to experiment, thinking how stupid we were to make such a
promise to deny ourselves. For what?
Ugh
. My nineteenth
birthday is almost here, Vyn. You’d better be ready. I smiled. Felt
a tingle. Took a sip.

Now that I think about it, I must’ve looked
pretty stupid back then, staring at him in fascination while he
slept.

Lately, whenever I looked at him, the
feelings, the desire would cross over into craving, and it was
something I’d never felt before. Of course, Vyn and I could show
our affection by touching wings, and that was pure bliss, but it
wasn’t anything we couldn’t do in public. Well, unless school rules
forbade it with another professor warning. Whatever … I took
another sip toward the window.

Last evening, before bed, Angie and I had
studied for nearly three hours. We’d learned about how the dreks
could only be “killed” with a shot to the head. And about the yell
and the fact that it could damage our hearing and make us sick,
drain some of our light. Dreks are sneaky, too, we’d also learned.
They’d play with minds, create dreams and voices and
hallucinations, use any method they could, including whipping us,
which was a mega-surprise to me, to drag us into the dark. Or
they’d influence us with their words, stain our light and recruit
us as one of them.

It was disturbing to say the least.

Anger had flooded the evening for a time. But
as the night wore on, guilt grew into stomach pains over how I’d
treated Mom and Dad. Angie and I had discussed it, concluding that
they probably knew what was best.

Patience, Ellie
, the words drifted
through my mind as I viewed out the window. Don’t be a bratty angel
who throws tantrums to get her way. Never had I been like that and
this was not the time to start. They deserve all my love and
respect. After all, Dad did save me. He’d given me the gift of
life. Twice.

Focus. Time to save the children.

Angie, glowing with remnants of her evening
bliss, set her plated toast and coffee cup to the table and sat.
The forest and mountains were like an oil painting on a fresh
morning canvas. I lifted my cup, took a sip toward the beauty.
Coffee slid warm down my throat.

Nearly a month of study and practice had
drained us, yet sharpened our minds and melted the last traces of
fat from our bodies. It was three weeks after the first drek died
by the side of the road, and seven days before my nineteenth
birthday, as I sat in a deck chair aside Mom and Angie.

Over the past weeks, during lulls between
training and study, Angie and I would spend time on the porch deck,
under Mom’s hanging flower baskets, sipping iced tea while we
looked out through the forest. We would take advantage of the peace
at every possible chance. A light breeze would carry the smells of
pine onto the porch, mingling with the scent of Mom’s flowers and
tinkling the wind chimes on the way by. Brief meditations in
beauty. This had become a construction zone, official headquarters
for strategy, a compound. So the moments of silence were few.

Flatbed trucks—loaded down with everything
from fruit and food, to construction equipment and supplies—would
stream before us in what seemed like a never-ending line. Dad had
connections from his past, and they were more than willing to
help.

Teams of hulking males would show up
unannounced to assist in our efforts. Every morning and throughout
the day, males would come floating down, land on our driveway and
stroll up to the posted welcome sign that stood near the tree line.
Dad had mentioned that some are retired football player friends of
his. Others are current professional players. Still others are
simply volunteers from almost everywhere. They would read the minor
instructions on the sign, greet the closest angel, and then walk
down the path that led to a cleared section back in the forest. The
clearing held the massive new barn structure Dad and the crew had
built in two days. Dad had mentioned over dinner one night that it
could hold three hundred members. I suspected they were going to
need a bigger one. But with all the sounds, I knew they were still
building. The hotels in all the towns within fifty miles were
booked solid, including Dad’s hotel; the Angelic Inn.

The population of Boden was on the rise.

Playtime was over.

Angie, Mom and I were sitting in deck chairs
with tall glasses of iced tea, watching the transformation of our
place on Conall Mountain. Time for a relaxing day, we had decided,
so we all wore sleeveless sundresses and flowered perfume,
something pretty in the middle of chaos. Mom and Angie wore flats.
My feet were strapped into my favorite ankle-tied sandals. Mom had
even tied her hair back with a ribbon, something she rarely
does.

“So girls,” said Mom, “how’s the practice
coming along?”

“Good. No, great,” I replied with confidence.
“I think we’re gonna need a smaller target. That drek’s head is
just a little too big.” I lifted my glass, took a grinning sip with
memories of a practice session. Arrows had sliced the mountain air
and slipped into the bale up to the feathers, a grouping so tight
we couldn’t fit a pine needle between them, we had tried. Yeah, we
were ready, for that part anyway.

Male hollers and pounding hammers echoed
through the forest. A big green truck with a wooden-railed bed
filled to the brim made its way up the driveway, tires kicking up
dirt. A sign on the truck door read, “Heming Farms.”

Look at all that fruit, I think I’m
hungry
.

The muscled, smiling driver gave us a wave
through the truck windshield as he passed by.

“Look at all that fruit,” Angie said.

“Yeah,” I replied, “that’s just what I was
thinking.”

Even as we returned a wave to the driver, Mom
said, “Just remember, girls, no matter how good you get, it takes
more than shooting talent. Don’t get too confident and careless.”
She lowered her waving hand as her other hand tipped her glass for
a sip.

“I know, Mom,” I said. “I can honestly say
I’m
not
looking forward to it. We can kill paper dreks
pretty easy, but we know the difference.”

Seeming distracted, Mom sent her gaze across
the horizon. Following her sight line, I noticed above the forest
in the distant blue what appeared to be an approaching female with
a child beside her. The adult female was long and slim with
glorious white wings. As she drew closer, I began to recognize her
flowing blond hair, jeans and a T. It had to be, and it was.

Ginelle!

After hopping off the porch deck to the dirt
driveway, I skipped over to greet her. She floated down, her white
flats touching down softly. Her darling little daughter tapped down
beside her in the cutest flowered dress, matching flats like
ballerina slippers. Blond waves of hair framed her face as her
twinkling blue eyes smiled up at me, an exact copy of her mother’s
eyes. It was difficult to take my eyes off her, but I managed
to:

“Hi, Ginelle,” I said. “I’m so happy you’re
here.”

“Oh, Elle, me too, sweetie.” She leaned a
kiss to my cheek.

She remembered me. We hugged like the closest
of friends. Friends, with her!

After the hug, I stood eyes down on the
little one. “Is this gorgeous angel your daughter?”

“Yes, this is Steffunnie. She likes to be
called, Steff.”

“Of course you do. That’s such a beautiful
name, Steff, just like you.”

Little Steffunnie’s face just lit up with
excitement, so much friendly energy as her eyes squinted with a
such a smile. Her dainty wings flittered.
Oh my Source
, she
was a treasure. With two little flutters of her wings, she floated
up and wrapped a hug around my neck. She drew back, her blue eyes
on mine as she said in her tiny voice, “I like your name too, Elle.
Can we be friends too? Mom told me about you when I was eating
breakfast. I said I wanted to meet you.”

I whispered to Ginelle, “Oh, she is just
wonderful
.”

“Mom said it’s too dangerous for me to play
with my friends alone.”

“She likes to talk,” Ginelle said on a
snicker.

“Can I bring my friends? I like it up here.
You’d like my friends. There’s Cindy and Julie and Bethany.” She
gave me a semi-serious look as I held her balanced on my hip. “I
won’t bring any boys, I promise.”

“Well, that sounds like a great idea,” I
replied, sending her face to beam again.

“Oh, thank you.” She swiveled her head to
Ginelle. “Mom, can we, please?”

“I’ll ask their mothers, Steff. We’ll see,
okay.”

Steffunnie’s legs flipped with energy.

Ginelle said to me, “We would’ve come up
sooner, but, well, you know.”