by Eve Langlais
I know who that skull belongs to.
“Jeb?” Then more loudly. “Jeb!”
A quick glance over his shoulder netted her a wide grin and twinkling eyes. “Angel!” he exclaimed. “Hold on a second.” He pulled over to the side of the road, the wheels barely stopped when he’d swung himself out of the truck, oblivious to the stinging dust. He leaned against the bed, arms casually crossed, still wearing the smile. “Wondered when you’d wake. Those bastards in the woods shot you up pretty good with tranqs.”
“You were there?”
“I was. Arrived a bit late to the party but in time to make sure you didn’t wake up with strangers.”
“Who were those men who attacked? What happened after I blacked out?” Because she wasn’t about to admit to her cartoonish hallucinations. Giant bunnies with teeth, indeed.
“No idea who they were. I didn’t stick around long enough to question them, but from the texts my brothers sent, it is starting to look like the institute was trying to get you back.”
She shuddered. “Glad they failed. I guess when those women couldn’t catch me they called in reinforcements.”
“You mean Miranda and Renee? They don’t work for Kole.”
He knew them? “Are you sure? They wanted to take me away.”
“Yeah, they snuck up on you while I was talking to Viktor. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”
“Are they dead?”
A laugh escaped him. “Far from it. But they did agree to let me try and get you fixed first.”
“Fixed as in my wings.”
He nodded. “Yeppers. That’s why we’re on the road. Gonna take you to see that vet friend I was telling you about.”
Ah yes, the animal doctor. “I still don’t see what she can do for me. No one can help me.”
“Already calling it a day?” He dangled his arms over the bed of the truck as he shook his head. “Where’s that fighting spirit of yours? Don’t give up, Angel.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s half animal, half human.”
“Says who?” He winked. “Could be there’s more to me than meets the eye.”
“If this is a boast about the snake in your pants, save it. I am not feeling sexy right now,” she grumbled.
He snickered. “Gotta say, chewing the fat is never boring with you, Angel. Pity we’ve got to save it for later. We’ve still got a fair distance to go before nightfall.”
The implication being they couldn’t talk while they traveled. “Let me guess, I have to stay in the back.”
“We could try you in the front, but I didn’t think we were yet at a spot in our relationship where you wanted to lie sideways with your face in my lap.”
Her cheeks flamed. “I am not that type of girl.”
“I meant it more because the seat doesn’t have room for you to sit properly with your wings.”
She peered through the window to the cramped front seat. “Oh.” Now she felt dumb.
“Sorry I didn’t have a better vehicle to transport you in. I’ve got my brothers working on a solution so you can ride properly.”
“But until then, I get to ride in the back,” she said with a sigh.
“Look on the bright side, Angel. You get plenty of space to stretch out and fresh air.”
“It’s a dusty dirt road,” Nev remarked.
He scratched at his scalp. “Yeah, so long as we’re moving it’s not too bad. However, you might want to stay under the tarp for parts of it.”
“For breathability or to stay out of sight?”
“A little bit of both.”
“Still open to using those shears,” she grumbled.
He reached in and yanked her forward, his big hand cupping the back of her head. “No cutting. We’ll find a way. Promise.” Words he sealed with a kiss, which was becoming a habit of his. One she didn’t mind since it warmed her insides and curled her toes. It almost managed to make her feel normal. Until she hid under the heavy canvas, her shirt—more like his shirt, a button up plaid worn backwards—pulled over her mouth and nose as they bumped along the rutted track he called a road.
On their way to an animal doctor.
Sigh.
Still, it was better than a cage.
However, her trepidation must have been why the rage bubbled inside when the truck finally came to a stop and she heard Jeb saying, “Hold on a second while I explain to Maisy about you.”
Maisy? They were on a first-name basis? What happened to calling her a doctor?
Nev leaned up enough to peer through the window and thus saw the front door of the ranch-style home open and a woman with long ebony locks, a dark complexion, and a curvy figure built to make men ogle come running out.
The squealed, “Jebby!” was followed by a leap as the woman wrapped herself around him and then planted a smooch on his lips.
Things kind of turned a deep purple at that point.
12
A shriek filled the air, and Jeb gaped as Angel, her eyes glowing, her features drawn and stark, hit the ground behind Maisy with her wings extended. The keening cry emerged from lips pulled over teeth that appeared a little sharper than usual. She looked like a wild creature with the tendrils of her hair writhing as if caught in a static storm.
The claws at the ends of Nev’s fingers were new. As was the evidence of her strength. She tore Maisy off him and tossed her a fair distance.
Luckily, Maisy had dealt with angry critters before and landed on her feet. Cats always did. However, being graceful of foot—and paw—didn’t mean Maisy took the manhandling well.
A feline hiss emerged from Maisy. “Whoa, sister. What’s got your knickers in a twist?”
Angel replied with another keening cry and took a step forward.
Given she wore a murderous expression—which, being a man of experience, he’d seen many times before—Jeb quickly thrust himself between the two women.
“Calm down, Angel. You don’t want to hurt Maisy.”
The growl from her lips said otherwise.
“Bring it. I am not afraid of your jealous girlfriend.” Maisy didn’t help the situation, but she did clarify it for him.
Could she be right? Was his angel feeling a little possessive?
“Angel,” he crooned. “You can calm down. Maisy and I are just friends.”
“Hands off,” Nev snarled, trying to reach around him. “Mine.”
“You can have him,” Maisy declared with a snort. “You can have all the Jones brothers for all I care.”
Someone still held some bitterness over the way things had ended with a certain brother of Jeb’s.
“Maisy and I are just friends,” he reiterated. “You can put away the claws.”
The declaration did little to quell Angel’s chest-heaving agitation.
Jeb moved closer to her, hands out to his sides, his voice soothing. “It’s okay, Angel. No one here is gonna hurt you.”
“Speak for yourself,” Maisy muttered.
Nev growled.
He shot Maisy a look over his shoulder. “Could you please not help for a second?”
“I am not the one who called out of the blue and said you needed my help.”
“It’s not for me. Nev is the one who needs it.”
Maisy’s full lips curled, and her dark eyes flashed. “I don’t provide anger management treatment. Whoever is in charge of her flock should take her under their wing and teach her some manners.”
“She has no flock,” he said, watching Nev, who paced, the feathers on her wings rippling, her body taut. A new side to her. A fighter. “She’s human.”
Those words froze Nev, who pivoted to stare at him. “No, I’m not. I’m a monster.” In an instant, she deflated. Her wingtips drooped, her fingers went back to normal, and her violet eyes went from fiercely glowing to a deep abyss of despair.
“Angel,” he cried out, reaching for her, only to have her dance away from his grasp.
Before he could say any
thing else—re: put his damned foot in his mouth even worse—Maisy darted around him to confront Nev. “Nonsense. You’re no more a monster than I am.”
A brow arched in time with a wing as Nev replied, “In case you hadn’t noticed, I have wings.”
“Gorgeous ones, too. Kind of jealous, actually.”
The reply slammed Nev’s mouth shut, and she watched rather than acted as Maisy circled around her.
Since there was no blood being shed—for the moment—Jeb held his body and tongue still.
Maisy paused at her back. “Fascinating.”
“Says someone who wasn’t part of a science experiment,” Nev grumbled. She shot him a look. “I thought you said she could help me. Did you tell her anything about me?”
“Uh, not exactly. In case someone was listening, I thought it best to keep the conversation brief.”
“What is the story?” Maisy asked.
Nev’s lips flattened, but she gave a summary. “Volunteered for some medical experiments. Turned out they were looking for people who wouldn’t be missed so they could pull some Frankenstein shit.”
“Before these experiments, I take it you had no unusual health issues. No growths? Strange rashes? Odd dreams?” At each query, Angel shook her head and snorted at the last.
“Do dreams of killing the doctors count?”
Maisy’s lips curved into a smile. “I’d say those were normal given what they did to you. Speaking of which, were the wings grafted, or did they grow out of your back?”
Nev blinked. “Does the how really matter?”
“Actually, it does, because we can’t exactly treat the problem if I don’t know how they got there.”
“I assume they sewed them on somehow.” Nev shrugged. “I don’t really know. One day I was normal and human, the next I woke up face down on a gurney with wings on my back.”
Having not heard this part of her story before, Jeb could barely contain his shock. He couldn’t even imagine. How hard it must have been for her. He’d known from birth about his ’roo abilities. Reveled in them even. But to suddenly be given no choice…
“May I touch your wings?” Maisy asked.
For some reason Nev chose to glance at him, her eyes asking what she should reply.
He nodded. “She won’t hurt you, Angel.”
“She’s a doctor. Like them.” Said with a hint of disdain.
“I would never do something like this. I swore to heal, not hurt,” Maisy hotly declared.
It was the right thing to say. Nev bit her lower lip but nodded. “Go ahead. Touch them.”
“Thank you.” Maisy circled to her back, ignoring Nev’s stiff posture as she ran her hand down the wings, tracing the edge, rubbing the feathers, smartly not making mention of the blood crusting a few of them. She even slid her fingers in the gap on Angel’s shirt—one of his, ripped up the back and then draped on and tied at the waist.
As Maisy explored, she spoke her findings aloud. “No signs of scar tissue. Firm cartilage. Proper bone structure. A fine layer of feathers.”
“What did you expect?” he asked.
“I wondered if they were real. If they’d grafted, then there was a possibility they used engineered wings.”
“Is that even possible?” he exclaimed.
“Cyborgs aren’t just in movies anymore,” was Maisy’s reply.
“I’m not a robot,” Nev hotly declared.
“No, you’re not.” Maisy stepped away from Nev. “You are very much real. And so are these wings. I don’t think they sewed them on, but I’ll be better able to tell once we get you inside with that shirt off. Let me ask you, how much did you weigh before and after the procedure?”
“I weigh less now,” Nev stated, staring straight ahead.
“Were you overweight before?”
“No.”
“Interesting. They did something then to reduce your overall weight, probably to ensure the wings could support you.”
“Meaning?” Jeb asked.
“Could be they managed to lighten her bones. Again, I’ll need to do a proper exam to be sure.”
“Why does it matter if I’m lighter than before?” Nev snapped.
“The more I know, the better I can help you. Now, I’ve seen you moving them. Given your superhero leap from the truck, I know you can glide. Can you fly?”
A moue of annoyance creased Nev’s face. “No.”
Jeb didn’t mention her attempt out the window that she claimed ended in failure.
“At a glance, your body seems healthy. Your cognitive skills appear sharp. So, what’s the problem?”
Nev snorted, and her wings fluttered. “In case you didn’t notice, big wings at my back.”
“Put them away.”
“Where? In my freaking purse?”
“Pull them back into your body.”
For a moment, Nev blinked. Then she snapped, “I don’t want them in my body. Or outside it for that matter. I want them gone.” Nev stomped away from Maisy and headed to the truck. “This is a waste of time. She can’t help me. No one can.”
Maisy shot him a look. “Is she always this melodramatic?”
“It’s been a tough few months for her.”
“And they will be tougher if she keeps playing the woe-is-me victim.”
“I can hear you,” Nev shouted.
“Good. Then you’ll hear me when I say you can stop being a drama queen. Get your butt into the house.”
“Why?” Nev whirled, arms folded over her chest. “You can’t help me.”
“Says you. I said no such thing.”
“So you can help me?”
“Never said that either. I don’t know what I can do for you. Not until I run some more tests.”
“What if I don’t want to do tests? What if I want to go home?” Nev pouted, and yet Jeb didn’t get frustrated because he understood why she did it.
He held up a finger to Maisy and mouthed, “give me a minute.” Maisy nodded and angled her head to the house before leaving him alone with his angel.
He sauntered over to the truck where she sat in the back, ass parked on the lip, wings hanging over the edge.
“It’s okay to be scared, Angel,” he said.
She glared down at him. “I’m not scared. We’re wasting time. She can’t help me.”
“You haven’t even given her a chance.”
“A chance to do what? Poke and gawk at the freak.”
“If she studies you—”
“What can she do?” Nev interrupted. “What can anyone do?”
“Remember that powder I made you try?”
“You mean that placebo shit that did nothing,” was her bitter reply.
“Maisy knows more versions of it. Stronger ones.”
“More drugs.” Said with a sneer. “I doubt there is a pill or powder or potion that can fix the damage caused by a mad scientist.”
“Then what do you have to lose trying?”
The word emerged, soft and gut wrenching. “Hope.”
“Ah, Angel.” He vaulted into the bed of the truck so he could kneel in front of her. He caught her hands in his, massaging the chilled flesh, catching her gaze with his own. “Don’t give up.”
“I’m not. It’s just…” She paused and dropped her gaze to their hands. “How can I ever live a normal life with these things? I’ll never find happiness.”
“I wouldn’t wager on that.” I’ll make you happy. If he had to find them a remote mountain location where she could live freely in the open, he’d do it.
Her lips trembled as she admitted, “I’m scared, Jeb.”
“Don’t be. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He gave her a soft kiss, one meant to encourage and show strength. She softened against his mouth and melted into him. The kiss lasted but a moment, and then her forehead pressed against his.
“Do we have to go inside? Can’t we go back to the treehouse instead?”
“You need to do this, Angel.”
She sighed
. “Fine. Let’s see what your animal doctor can do. But I swear, if she tries to kiss you again, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“Jealous, Angel?” he teased.
“I don’t share,” was her retort as she swung her legs over the side and vaulted off.
He stood and watched her stalk to the house.
Neither do I, Angel.
13
Entering the house, Nev didn’t allow herself to be fooled by the cheery colors or the fresh scent of flowers.
That woman, humming in the kitchen as she put a kettle on the stove, was a doctor.
The enemy.
There was only one thing doctors wanted to do.
Hurt. Use. Humiliate. Okay, so that was three, but it wasn’t hard to spot a theme.
Nev turned her gaze left and right, looking for the medical equipment. The bed with straps. The syringes. She saw instead a wicker frame couch with thick pillows. A woven, rag-strip rug in a mosaic of colors. A battered coffee table strewn with remotes and magazines.
“I thought you were a veterinarian,” she said, seeing no signs of cages. Heck, other than a faint aroma of cat—an odor that reminded her of poor dead Rory—she smelled no animals at all.
“I am a vet, but I don’t practice inside. I have a barn at the back for that. Although, most of the time, I go to the animals in need. Easier than transporting a sick bull or a lost joey whose mother might be looking for them.”
“So we need to go to the barn then?” Nev tried to sound brave about it, the idea of putting herself at the mercy of a doctor, even an animal one, not sitting easy with her.
A gusty laugh emerged from Maisy. “No barn for you. That’s for wild creatures. Of which you’re not.”
The answer took Nev by surprise, and she whirled to stare at Maisy. The woman set a mug on the counter and pointed to it.
“Come sit over here. I brewed you some tea.”
“Gonna knock me out?”