by Anna Sanders
The way Winx was cutting off cars and running through lights would have gotten anyone else a ticket or two. But that was no worry for the daevor. When someone could redirect a human’s thoughts, human law had no meaning.
Soon, she made the turn toward Skinned. When they stopped in front of her old job, a terrified gasp tore from her throat.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”
The nightclub had been alive with activity not even two hours before. Now, the ruin was boarded up with condemned signs all over it. The smell of water mixed with burnt wood filled the air. The buildings next to it were in the same condition. Anyone walking or driving by wouldn’t give it the courtesy of a glance.
“Do you believe me now?” Keaton asked.
Winx didn’t say anything. She just stared. Once or twice, she attempted to close her mouth, but it eventually just hung open again.
“We should probably get out of here,” Keaton said. “You don’t want to stick around here too long. The eradication force was just here.”
He reached over to touch her arm gently in an attempt at comfort. He was surprised when she didn’t tremble or flinch at the contact. Either Winx was already starting to trust him, or she was too shocked to tell him to fuck off.
Soon, she shook herself from her stupor, and her tires squealed as she took off away from the evidence of lixyn intervention. After a few minutes of driving nowhere near Winx’s apartment, Keaton asked the obvious question without expecting a real answer.
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know what to do,” Winx said abruptly, as if they’d already been in the middle of a conversation.
“But you know how to do it, don’t you?”
“Of course I know how. But it’s one thing to be trained, and quite another to battle an entire hoard. I’ve contented myself with the thought of never having to face them.” She pulled into an empty parking lot. Turning off her car, she leaned her head back against the seat. “If those things were at my job, something led them there. Savages aren’t very bright. They are driven by hunger, not logic. Why would they pass all of the humans along the city streets just to destroy my place of employment?”
“I won’t pretend to know,” Keaton said.
“Why is this happening now? The missing persons, the seemingly random murders, your family issues…why me? Why am I forced to go out and take care of a problem that I did not help create?”
“But you did help create it.”
Shock widened her features. “Excuse me?”
Keaton realized his blunder. The earlier revelation of what London told him was intertwined with Winx sitting before him. But if she knew that he’d discovered her past, especially how he’d discovered it…
“Well, you did, didn’t you? I mean, why else would the Order want you so badly? I can only assume,” he continued when she still glared at him, “you didn’t do a petty crime. You didn’t steal, or break any meaningless protocol. You killed someone, didn’t you?”
Her eyes gave nothing away, but her posture remained stiff.
“I’m not blaming you. Obviously you had a motive.” He couldn’t tell if he was further pissing her off, or if he was somehow making sense to her. “But whoever it was, and whatever they did, do you know for sure that they didn’t… you know… reanimate?”
She didn’t answer. She merely stared off into space.
Keaton continued.
“Their souls could have died. If for no other reason than because they saw something supernatural before they died.”
“You don’t know that,” she growled.
“Not for sure, no. But, I mean, just think of the horrible things that savages do. Just think of the souls that they are killing themselves, creating more like them, doing the very thing that had you go after them in the first place…”
Her eyes flashed, but that was the only indication he got that she was listening. After coming up short with anything else to say, she muttered, “I cannot believe I didn’t think of that before.”
Keaton felt he was on the right track, so he kept talking. “I’ve never seen any of the Order around my forest. We Bandits have had to defend our own lands for so long, I don’t know whether the Queendom even knows of our attacks. It’s a remote place, and it’s somewhere we can regroup. We won’t be alone. We won’t be in obvious lixyn territory. We can keep each other safe.”
Keaton felt evil for his lying to Winx. But it was for his family. Winx had done all of her deeds for her family. He had to do the same for his—even if it meant hiding London’s interview from her. For now.
“You are on my side now, aren’t you?” Keaton asked, unsure about the myriad of emotions playing over Winx’s features.
“I don’t have a choice,” she said finally. “I need to get out of here.”
“My clan is still a large group. There is safety in numbers.”
She paused again before answering him.
“Fine. I will come back to Colorado with you. I will keep your pack safe if they keep me safe.”
Keaton was filled with such a surge of happiness that he had to express it. He grabbed both of Winx’s hands and squeezed hard. “I could kiss you.” His words were harsh with emotion.
“Um. Keaton? This is entirely unnecessary. Not to mention invasive.”
“Truly, Winx. Thank you. I would be lost without you.”
“Would you mind…not touching me? Or, oh Christ…” He started to kiss the backs of her hands.
“All of this time we have been praying for a miracle. You are our miracle. You’re…” He stopped talking to stare at her intimidating face. She was pulling against him, but there was no way that she was getting him away from her now. “You’re beautiful.”
Winx fought to release her hands and slid a few inches away from the overwhelmed animal.
“Look. If we’re going to be traveling together, there will be no more of that. That does not sit well with me. Understand?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just so happy!”
Winx’s lips scrunched up, her eyes widened, and she clapped her hands together. “Okay then. We had better get going, right?”
Keaton felt some of his exuberance fade. Yet he still smiled at her. “Don’t you want to get some rest first?”
“I’m nocturnal. Besides, I have got to get away from this place. If The Three are in town, even if it’s just one of them, I have no intention of staying here.”
“Well, I do want to get to my family. However, I have to stop at my hotel room first for my things, and I need to check out. What about you? Do you need to return the keys for your place?”
“Nah. I’m just going to sort of… disappear.”
“Can you do that?”
“What use is being supernatural if you couldn’t?”
CHAPTER 8
THEY DROVE THAT FIRST NIGHT into the wee hours of the morning, Keaton’s backpack stashed amongst Winx’s tote bags. They didn’t talk much, only communicating if they were hungry, if they needed a restroom, or whenever Keaton tried to help navigate using his maps and information. After six hours, Winx programmed Gunnison National Forest, the place in Colorado Keaton had known his pack to be last, into the GPS on her dashboard, and the car got even quieter.
He had been observing Winx as she drove. The music she played was reminiscent of the music at Skinned. Most of it was about caressing flesh hot to the touch or searing pain that turned into an overabundance of pleasure. She kept her steady eye trained on the road, coolheaded and direct in her flight from California.
It was six in the morning when Keaton decided he couldn’t take the silence anymore.
“Perhaps we should rest,” he suggested.
“No.”
“Come on, Winx. We’re far from Los Angeles now. It is okay to take a break.”
“What is it? Do you need to pee again?”
He blinked at her. “Pee?”
“Urinate.”
“Oh. No, it’s not that.
I’m just, well, proposing that we stop to have a meal sitting down, and then we sleep for a few hours.”
“You can sleep if you want to,” she said without glancing from the road.
Maybe it was the lack of juicy, bloody meat in his diet, but he was irritated at her. Or, more likely, it was that he was still recovering from his battle and he really, really wanted a bed to stretch out in.
“You are so focused on getting away that you are going to drive us off of the road due to your exhaustion!”
“I’m not tired. I’m fine.”
It was a lie. She had heavy bags under her eyes and had yawned more than four times in the past fifteen minutes. The daevor was hell-bent on escaping L.A.
“I will drive if you need me to,” he stated for what was probably the third time since they had left. “I know you don’t not think I can, but trust me. I know a good deal about motor vehicles.”
Winx scoffed. “You know about cars? Please. You didn’t even know what a Twinkie was.”
“I don’t eat sweets often,” he said, stung by her disbelief. He had been munching on sponge cakes that Winx had introduced him to. They were called Twinkies, and as lovely as they were at first, he was at his wits’ end with the creamy snack. “But you have to realize that we cannot continue this way. Had you slept at all before I came to your apartment?”
“I would be sleeping there now if you had not led the Order to my doorstep.”
“I can tell that you are tired. I have been watching you for hours. Please, Winx. Let me drive if progress is so important to you. You can sleep in the passenger seat. I promise to be careful.”
“If it means that much to you, we can stop at the next exit and find a hotel. I don’t want you driving my car.”
Keaton shrugged. “Fine by me. As long as you get some sleep.”
They were able to find a nice place called the Abbey Inn. After they parked, Keaton went into the backseat for his backpack and grabbed for Winx’s bags. She waved him off and grabbed a duffle bag from her trunk. “I’ve got it,” she huffed.
Keaton rolled his eyes and took it from her, easily swinging it over his shoulder.
Winx glowered. “You’re still hurt. I can carry it myself. “
“I am not so sure that you can. I’ve had time to recharge. You, on the other hand, are so tired you’re swaying on the spot. Let me help you.” He took her arm with his free hand and tugged. “We’re going to need each other an awful lot for the next while.”
If she wanted to argue, it wasn’t apparent. Winx merely trudged beside him with her arm looped through his for support.
She did look offended when they reached the concierge and Keaton purchased only one sleeping arrangement. Keaton thought it silly to argue with the man when he’d assumed that he and Winx were a couple looking for a suite. Together.
Besides, what was the point of them buying two rooms? She could have the bed, and he would sleep… somewhere else. They could keep a low profile, and it would be best for them to stick together. These were the arguments that Keaton told himself, anyway, and the nagging feeling that Winx wouldn’t agree to it if she was fully awake was tramped down by the protective urge to stay close to her.
The concierge copied Keaton’s identification card as well as Winx’s license plate number and carefully didn’t stare at Keaton’s bandages. Winx sort of lazily hung off of Keaton’s strong arm the entire time, dozing in and out now that she wasn’t behind the wheel of a car.
The concierge helped Keaton with the bags so that he could hold Winx up better. The urge to take the girl and hike her over his shoulder was strong, but he wasn’t sure how conscious she really was—and if he pissed her off, she could hurt him, sleep or not. So instead of playing the macho man, he opted to guide her through the many halls of the hotel, sidestepping traffic and vending machines along the way.
Their swiftly unlocked by key card when they arrived, and the three walked into the spacious quarters.
A brand new king-sized bed awaited them, topped with a fluffy blue comforter and giant clean pillows. A forty-two inch flat screen sat waiting directly across from it. The hues of the room were bathed with black, blue, and gold, and with the white walls and high ceiling, the place was rather homey-looking. Keaton was pleased with the arrangement.
The attendant left them alone, closing the door behind him without a word. Winx almost passed out where she stood. “What use is running from the Order if you’re damn near dead on your feet?” Keaton sat her onto the bed and began to helpfully unlace her shoes. “You’re making their job easy for them.”
“I have my reasons for running,” Winx told him blearily. “Those lixyns are dangerous. They took my wings.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Keaton asked, helping to remove her tennis shoes and then moving to her constricting jacket.
“My wings. They cut them off.” Winx shook her arms out of the jacket, then untied the drawstring of her pants.
Keaton was sort of getting what she was saying, but it still took him a moment. He frowned. “You had wings?”
“All daevors are born with wings.”
“You could…fly?”
“Yes. And they took that away from me. Forever.” Winx removed her pants, revealing lacy white shorts with frills and tiny bows. She left her camisole on and climbed into bed.
Out of respect, Keaton kept himself from staring, even though they were incredibly sexy panties.
But the thought of her underwear was instantaneously tossed away when Winx unknowingly confirmed her claim. When she turned from him to pull down the sheets, he could see that a story was told on her skin. Angry scars marred the skin of her back right above the curve of each of her shoulder blades. Each told of a truly miserable wound, and that the healing had not been able to erase the reminders.
Keaton grunted in surprise. Winx didn’t notice. Her eyes were fully closed as she scooted beneath the blankets, adjusted her pillow under her neck, and settled in.
“Will you stay here?” she asked with her eyes still shut.
Keaton had to force himself to talk. But when he did, he sounded normal to his ears. “I am never leaving you, Winx. Have no worries, my friend, and sleep.”
He saw how deeply his words sunk in. She slipped into sleep easily after that confirmation, any thoughts or fears of the Order going soundlessly into her dreams.
Keaton went over to the dining room table and sat down, staring out of the window. He could tell sleep was going to evade him for a while. It would be too odd to watch Winx’s reflection in the window, but something in him wanted to. He was as scared for her as she was for herself.
So. The torture that London Iragall had spoken of, the one he didn’t agree with. Winx had been mutilated. The thought of someone cutting a body part off of the girl was not a painless one to process. How could he blame her for running?
He sat for a long time and stared at the highway that they would be taking again, possibly by that very evening. He thought of everything he knew of Winx and of everything that he had yet to learn. Asking her to come to his aid was the last thing he would have done had he known what the lixyns had done to her. No wonder she had ran from Keaton. No wonder she had ran from everyone.
She needed saving. Just like he did. And here they were, stuck in a mess together. She would not back down now, and he had no intention of either. Still, the inclination was more present than he ever thought possible. Winx deserved to run, and run as far as she could. But now she couldn’t, and it was his fault.
Keaton took off his shoes and shirt. He sat in silence before he couldn’t stand pondering any longer. Standing up, he walked to the end of the bed and looked at the woman sleeping there.
She was deeply asleep. She stayed curved to one side of the bed, as if inviting him to occupy the empty spot beside her. How tempting.
He shouldn’t be thinking that. Of course she would not find such a thing welcoming. She did not know him all that well. He knew more about her than she
had revealed. To top everything off, he was imagining climbing into bed next to her, slipping his arm behind her head, and letting her sleep against his heartbeat.
Heavens. He wasn’t attracted to the demon, was he?
Keaton took one of the free pillows from the unused side of the bed, walked to the foot of it, and sat at the floor. He grabbed the remote on his way and switched the television on, making sure to mute it. He did not watch too many TV shows back at home. All of the fiction held no appeal to him, usually. But he needed something to distract himself. And this was doing the trick for the moment.
CHAPTER 9
WINX WAS TOUCHING THE CLOUDS. She was dipping and diving within them, the soft wisps tickling her nose. She spun with a smile on her face, the first real one she had shown in a long time. The air was warm and a tiny bit stifling, but just to be flying again, just to be in the air communing with the infinite… it was everything that she had ever wanted. Her wings flapped heavily at her side and she rose higher and higher, toward the heavens, toward freedom.
And then she fell.
Winx tried to scream, but the air was rushing so fast and loud in her ears that she couldn’t hear it. In vain, she tried to beat her wings again, but nothing happened. Reaching behind her, she felt the nubs that rested there instead. No wings. Just exposed bone where they used to be.
She screamed and screamed. The ground came up to meet her.
She hit it hard.
Winx shouted herself awake, tangled in the mass of sheets surrounding her. Her yell was echoed not only around the room, but from another voice on the floor.
She opened her eyes slowly and sat up. Rubbing her face with both of her palms, she took deep breaths until her heartbeat steadied. Trying to catch her breath was difficult.
It was just another nightmare. She’d had that same one too many times to count.
Surprised to hear a groan at the foot of the bed, Winx peeked from behind her fingers. At the floor she could see Keaton sitting upright, facing away from her. He was also breathing heavily, running a hand over his brow in much the same way she’d been rubbing hers.