by Amira Rain
Now it looked like she was feeling the same way, and was maybe even outright panicky. Even though she'd fought boldly and fearlessly while on the ground, she was now whipping her head from side to side with a clear expression of fear and discomfort, clear enough for me to see even sitting a good several feet behind her. It also appeared that she was trying to grip Eric's leathery scales for support or something, but couldn't quite get a good hold.
Several dozen Angel dragons had gotten into the airspace above the city, and in little clusters all around us, they fought with Destroyers. Flying just low enough so that we weren't in any fiery crossfire, Eric made his way across the lavender-gray sky in a loose figure eight.
Extending a palm upward, I zapped several Angel dragons in rapid succession, one of them three times, making him begin falling to the ground, shaking and jerking as if having a seizure. He didn't make it all the way to the ground, though, not even close. He didn't even make it near the tops of the buildings.
Just a moment or two after he began falling, two Destroyer dragons locked their mighty jaws around his wings and began dragging him off to the top of a building that had been designated the "drop zone" for dead or wounded Angel dragons. This way, the city would have no more smashed buildings, and more importantly, no injured and killed residents, like had happened before Desmond had taken command.
I'd completely failed to consider the possibility of him seeing me in the sky. Not like he wouldn't find out sooner or later that I'd joined the fight, but I just didn't think him seeing me with his own eyes would be ideal. Nevertheless, it was happening. Just after I'd zapped yet another Angel dragon, I spotted him a good distance away, yet close enough for me to recognize his dragon form. With a wingspan much wider than any other dragon, he stood out in the melee, and his smoky gray hide, now a lighter gray than the darkening sky, stood out as well.
At the exact moment that I saw him, he seemed to spot me, pausing in his fighting. Being that I was wearing a white zip hoodie that probably hadn't been the best choice of attire to wear to a fight where stealth was an advantage, I'd probably stood out against Eric's brownish-reddish hide, allowing Desmond to see me.
With smoke curling out of his nose, he just watched me for a long moment before a charging Angel dragon required his attention. Cringing inwardly, I went back to my own fighting, assisted by Emma, who seemed to have gotten her bearings a bit and was now levitating Angel dragons into my target range.
However, her apparent semi-comfort with fighting in the air was pretty short lived, and after a minute or two, she rapped on Eric's back three times, which was the agreed-upon signal for him to take us down. He immediately began slowly descending, and Emma turned her head to look at me, shouting to be heard above the wind.
"I'm sorry, but I'm just not feeling great up here! We're just too high up!"
I shouted back that it was okay and I understood. I'd been starting to think that we should descend soon anyway, because it was almost getting too dark to see clearly, and I was having a difficult time distinguishing Angel dragons from Destroyers. They'd initially been pretty easy to tell apart, because the Angel dragons all had some kind of a dark brand or something in the shape of wings burned into their shoulders, but now that it was full evening, this was becoming very difficult to see.
Less than a minute after Eric had begun his descent, we were back on the ground, where various groups of Gifteds were fighting a new wave of Angel sorcerers who had managed to get into the city. Seeming aware that the battle wasn't going their way, they were now moving even faster than they had been earlier, zapping wildly at Gifteds and dragons alike, though not many of them hit their targets.
Once off Eric's back, Emma seemed to regain her earlier confident, fearless fighting form. Apparently having decided to remain on the ground, Eric fought alongside her, essentially barbequing several Angels with long jets of fire. As they burned, bodies glowing as red as their eyes, Brianna and I helped to finish them off with repeated zaps, fully incapacitating them so they could be decapitated. While we did this, Emma and two other levitators held other Angels at bay by launching them into the air.
Once the streets surrounding the tower were free of Angels once again, Emma, Brianna, Eric, and I all paused for a breath. Chest heaving, I looked skyward and saw that the fight up there seemed to be over. Jets of fire weren't cutting lines in the darkness anymore, and I couldn't hear any roaring, or the booming of any dragons colliding.
Panting, Brianna pointed to the sky.
"Look. I think that's Desmond flying toward the 'dragon drop' building, and at a pretty leisurely pace. I think it's all over."
Hands on hips and still breathing heavily, I peered into the sky, trying to spot him. I could only guess that Eric and Emma did, too, because it seemed that they never spotted the Angels coming. I just heard the sudden crackle of electricity, and when I looked, they were both on the ground, each of them apparently having been zapped.
Brianna had already launched into action, zapping the two Angel sorcerers who had seemed to come out of nowhere, but now there was a third, and he was now zapping Eric repeatedly, sending silvery white blasts of electricity from his palm in rapid bursts, like machine gun fire, which I'd never even seen before.
I was on him in a flash, though, zapping him as rapidly as I could, aided by another Gifted who'd come on the scene, and soon, this unusually powerful Angel was on the ground, seizing.
For maybe a minute, everything was just chaos as more Gifteds and a few more Destroyers joined the fray. But then, when all three Angels were dead, an eerie quiet descended, but just for a second. Then, with a cry, Emma, who'd quickly recovered from being zapped, tore off for Eric, who was motionless on the ground. Periodic puffs of wispy smoke coming from his partially-open mouth indicated that he was at least still alive and breathing.
When she reached him, Emma practically threw herself on his massive, scaly form with tears on her cheeks glinting in light from a streetlamp.
"Eric, please don't die. Just hang in there. I love you so much, and I should have told you that a long time ago. Jake loves you, too. Please just try to hang in there for us both."
Suddenly, in a blink, Eric shifted into his human form, making Emma collapse nearly on top of him. Eyes still closed, he slowly rolled to his back and began muttering just loudly enough for everyone present to hear him.
"Love you, too. Love Jake." Cracking one eye open, he paused. "I'm too tired. Hurts to move."
With Emma now stroking the side of his face with her tears still streaming, he continued mumbling something that sounded like "I'm okay," and then said what something like "Just need sleep." He then closed both his eyes and immediately seemed to do just that, actually snoring.
Emma planted a kiss on his mouth then sat back on her heels, covering her face.
"He's going to be okay."
Brianna had called medics, who arrived quickly and confirmed that Eric would be okay, saying that all his vital signs were good and he'd probably just be out for a while. Along with everyone else, I breathed a sigh of relief, though not a second later, I inhaled sharply. Desmond had flown down and had shifted back into his human form. He was now jogging toward the scene, asking if Eric was okay. When several people shouted that he was, Desmond slowed his pace to a walk, visibly relieved. I, however, was growing anxious.
As I watched Emma squeezing Eric's hand while the medics further checked him over, it seemed that her and Eric's happily-ever-after was finally beginning. Meanwhile, it seemed as if Desmond's and mine was ending before it had even had much of a start. With his blue-gray eyes decidedly gray and stormy, he marched by me and over to Eric and Emma without even saying a word.
*
For several days after the battle, Desmond refused to speak to me, saying that he was too angry and didn't want to say anything he'd regret.
I understood, but as far as regret on my part, I didn't have any, though that wasn't to say that I wasn't upset. I was absolutely sick over losin
g Desmond. I was heartbroken. Despite that, I wasn't sure that I would have changed any of my actions. I'd done what I'd felt compelled to do, and what I'd known I was capable of doing. I'd taken a calculated risk to do what I thought was right.
And as a result, I'd been a part of making sure that the Angels didn't reclaim Chicago and move north to Quincy, Mason, and other cities and towns. I'd helped to protect my grandma and joined my fellow Gifteds in fulfilling our duty to our country. I wouldn't have done anything differently.
Thankfully, none of my fellow Gifteds had been injured, and only a few shifters had been. And like Eric was doing, they were all recovering well. None of them were expected to have any permanent injuries.
The Angels and their dragons were a different story. At least a hundred Angel sorcerers had been killed and at least a hundred of their dragons had been killed just to the south of the city. Inside the city, about five dozen additional dragons had been killed. I'd heard that Desmond had been responsible for at least twenty of those kills himself, more than any other Destroyer.
When Eric was released from the hospital, Emma took him to her apartment so that she could care for him until he fully recovered. After not having seen her in a couple of days, I came by one afternoon while Eric and Jake were both taking naps.
Emma ushered me into her spacious, sunlit kitchen and began pouring iced tea for us.
"So, has Desmond called or come to see you yet?"
Fighting suddenly misty eyes, I had a seat at her blonde oak, circular kitchen table.
"No. No contact whatsoever since that text the day after the fight, when he said he was too angry. He said he 'didn't want to say anything he might regret.' Which...I get it. I guess."
He sent me that text in response to three phone calls and two voice mails that I left him.
After setting a glass of iced tea in front of me, Brianna had a seat across from me.
"Well, have you tried to contact him further?"
With my gaze on a vase full of daises in the center of the table, I shrugged, fighting increasingly misty eyes. I was determined not to cry, because I'd done plenty of that the night of the battle, when I'd waited up for Desmond until midnight, but he hadn't come to see me.
Instead, he dispatched Brianna to come by, just to make sure I wasn’t physically injured in any way during the fight, which I hadn't.
"Other than when I called him and left voice mails the day after the battle, I haven't tried to contact him at all. I guess I thought he'd cool down by now and try to contact me. But now I'm starting to think that he may never cool down. Or, at least he might never forgive me."
"Forgive you for what? You said that you never promised him that you wouldn't fight."
"I didn't. I didn't even say 'okay' when he told me to stay in the tower. I think he just assumed that I'd follow his 'order,' because he's so used to everyone else following his orders. And for a little while after he left...I think I was almost leaning toward staying in the tower like he asked me to.
“I was at least considering it pretty intensely. But then part of me...some part in my gut...just knew what I needed to do. And then you called, and it spurred me into action, and I don't regret that. I feel good about what I did...I feel proud. I'm not sure I could have ever lived with myself if I hadn't helped in the fight. I at least would have always felt ashamed about it. I just regret that obviously I made Desmond fear losing me, and I've made him push me away again."
"You didn't make him do anything. He's a big boy. He controls his own actions, like all adults do. Up until recently, I was definitely not subscribing to this thinking myself in terms of Josh and the accident...and I think that was just because of all the guilt I felt...but it's true, and I really feel it is now. Adults make their own choices, whether it's to speed in a truck, or take part in a battle, or push someone away.
“That latter, obviously Desmond was doing, but he's only hurting himself, which I don't like to see as a friend, but I also don't like to see it just because of how much he's hurting you. Do you think if I called him up and asked him to come talk to you, not right this second, but--"
"No."
I made a sudden decision, one that made me feel just a pinch better already.
"No...thank you, Emma, but I just decided something. You're right. I made my own choice and Desmond is making his own, and we're not responsible for whatever choices the other makes. You were also right when you said a while back that I can't be responsible for whether he pushes me away again.
“As sorry as I am that he has issues of being afraid of losing people, those issues are his own. And I don't think I could ever go through life tiptoeing around on eggshells, constantly worried about doing something that might make him fear losing me, starting some vicious cycle of him pushing me away repeatedly or something."
With my eyes now completely dry, I paused to take a sip of my iced tea before continuing.
"It basically boils down to this for me. If he'd rather end our relationship rather than always be afraid of losing me for one reason or another, which he's obviously doing right now, then I'm leaving that on him. That's his choice. And even though it's breaking my heart...ripping it to shreds sometimes, it feels like, actually...I'm not going to beg him to talk to me, and I'm not going to beg him to take me back.
“I'm also not going to tell him I'll never fight again, either. No way. So, pretty much, he's the one with a choice to make now. He needs to decide whether he's going to try to overcome his loss issues or not. He can call and talk to me if he wants. But if he'd rather live without me than continue our relationship and continually fear losing me, then so be it. It will completely shatter my heart, because I'm not sure of I'll ever meet another man that I love as much as I love him, but...."
My misty eyes were suddenly back, and in a major way. Still determined not to devolve into full-blown crying, I raked the back of my hand across them, sniffing.
"Anyway, if Desmond would rather never love, than love and fear losing, it will break my heart, but I'll survive. My baby will help keep me going. And about the baby...that's the only reason I'm going to contact Desmond.
“I'm going to inform him about all upcoming doctor's appointments, so that he can come with me and stay informed about the baby's development and all that, but that's it for right now. I'm going to contact him about baby-related things only.
“If he wants more than that...if he wants to continue our relationship and get over his fear...well, he can go ahead and tell me that. No more of his silence making me feel like I've done something wrong."
Emma looked thoughtful for a long moment before nodding.
"I think this is good. Maybe with you going on about your way, Desmond will do some serious thinking and realize that it's not better to go without love rather than have it and risk losing it."
Lifting my iced tea glass, I sighed.
"Hopefully, he'll realize that. I hope with all my heart that he will. But I'm going to have to be prepared if he doesn't. And in that case, I just hope he still wants to be a part of his daughter's life."
"So, you still think you're having a girl?"
Swallowing a sip of tea and setting my glass down, I nodded.
"Yes. Positive. It's just mother's intuition or something, but I just know. I know that I have a little daughter growing inside of me. I'm just as certain of it as Desmond is that...."
My damned tears were back again.
"As Desmond is that our little baby will be...."
Angry that I couldn't seem to control the moisture level in my eyes, but fighting a deep ache of sadness in my chest at the same time, I raked the back of my hand across my eyes again.
"Desmond really thinks we're having a boy."
I wondered if Desmond wanted anything to do with that boy now. That boy that was actually a girl.
Not wanting to talk about Desmond anymore and further upset myself, I wiped my eyes again and abruptly changed the subject.
"Anyway, let's talk about so
mething happier. I've been wanting to ask you how everything is going with you and Eric. Now that the two of you finally admitted that you love each other, is it all going well?"
Tucking a strand of her wavy brown hair behind one ear, Emma snorted, though smiling.
"Well, it is all going well now, but apparently being zapped as badly as he was really scrambled his brains the night of the fight and gave him a bit of amnesia about the hours immediately after, and we've had to clarify a few things.
“When he came out of his 'mental fog' kind of state after a couple of days, I asked him if he remembered what I'd said to him right after he was hurt. He said no, and then for some reason, I just got embarrassed and completely froze up. He asked me what was wrong, and I just blurted out a few words, asking him if he feels sorry for me. He said no, but that he often feels like he loves me, and as much more than a friend.