by L. C. Mawson
“What happened?” Freya asked.
“Nothing.”
Freya believed her for a second, wondering if she had misread her body language. But no, her hands were still hovering.
“Did you two fight again?” Freya asked, her stomach clenching as her mind screamed at her that she might be wrong.
Mel sighed, realising that she was caught. “We broke up.”
“Again?”
Mel’s glare told her that had been the wrong thing to say.
“I just mean... You two break up a lot. It’ll blow over by next week.”
Mel shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I came out because I was bored and I needed to actually get a look at you and check you for residual magic. Ally had nothing to do with it.”
“So, what about the residual magic? Is there any?”
“Nope. Nothing. Though, the excess could be interfering.”
Freya nodded, drinking some of her own drink before asking, “So you really have no idea why I just sprouted wings?”
“Well, I mean, I have some idea, but you won’t want to hear it.”
Freya narrowed her eyes. “I would rather have the answers and decide that for myself.”
“Well, Fae are the only magical creatures with wings.”
“Right. But mine don’t look like Fae wings.”
“I know, but why do the Fae have them?”
“I don’t know.”
Mel nodded. “No one really does. The Fae are genetic anomalies, born of Angels and Humans, but they’re not Angels themselves.”
Freya groaned, seeing where Mel was going. “Angels don’t have wings.”
“Actually, there is historical documentation of Angels giving off an aura of light when they fully embrace their power, and the way the aura forms behind them kind of looks like wings.”
Freya sighed, shaking her head. “It’s flimsy.”
She didn’t want to tell Mel the truth. Mel was a great friend but she, like all Witches, was loyal to her coven above all else. She would have to tell them if she found out that Freya was an Angel, and Freya wasn’t sure that was a good thing. Her coven was aligned with the Council of Light, and Amber had always been wary of them, telling Freya that they had been the ones to force her mother into the Shadow Realm.
“Flimsy is all I’ve got,” Mel told her, not picking up on Freya’s bending of the truth.
“Then I guess it’s just back to hoping they go away on their own.”
“I could keep checking the library and see if there’s something I haven’t seen before.”
“Even though Ally’s there?”
Mel threw her another glare before saying, “She’ll be gone in an hour or so.”
Freya decided to just shut up about Ally at that, defaulting to her polite and inoffensive demeanour that she usually only wore when she was around people she couldn’t trust. Or people in a position of authority. “I would be grateful for your help. Thank you.”
Mel nodded before finishing her coffee. “It’s no trouble. Though, for now, since you’ve got the rest of the day off, how about accompanying me to find rare potion ingredients?”
Freya shrugged. “Why the hell not? I’ve got nothing better to do.”
Chapter Five
Freya ended up returning home earlier than she technically should have, but she needed to use her computer to study. As she approached the house, she saw that the car was in the drive, so she climbed up to her window, using her magic to make her entry silent.
Her bedroom door was open, to her surprise, though her curiosity was quickly answered by her empty washing basket. She went to close the door, which would cause the soundproof charms around her room to reactivate, though she stopped as she heard voices from downstairs.
“When do you think we should tell Freya?” she heard Margaret ask, prompting her to tiptoe to the top of the stairs, crouching down so that she could hear better.
“Maybe we should wait a bit,” Ryan suggested. “Just in case...”
“In case I miscarry?”
There was a long pause before Ryan answered. “I wasn’t going to say it so bluntly... but yes.”
“I didn’t think this would actually happen.”
“Me neither.”
“I mean... We’re going to have a baby.”
“I know.”
“Think about all the things we’re going to have to do now... This house is so small...”
Freya’s legs moved without conscious instruction. She hadn’t really given much thought to what would actually happen if Margaret actually became pregnant, but now she was facing the stark truth - it had become a very real possibility that she would be sent away. That she would have to leave the city and her friends, along with any contact she had with the magical community. With people like her.
She was out of the window before she had really registered that she had moved.
FREYA JUST WANDERED for a while. She didn’t really know what else to do. She didn’t particularly have anywhere to go, she just needed her brain to slow down long enough to think.
She pulled out her phone with the intention of calling Mel, but her thumb paused before tapping her friend’s name. Mel wouldn’t understand, she realised, tapping the phone off. She had grown up in the coven. When her parents died, very little had changed for her. She lived in the same place with the same people she had known since she was a child.
She considered calling Alice, but she doubted she would answer if she did. Freya wondered if her self-exile included phone calls, and quickly decided that it probably did. Alice wasn’t one to do things by halves; if she felt she had to be removed from something, she would be impossible to contact.
She turned her attention back to her phone, deciding that why Alice had left was a headache for another day. There was only really one person she wanted to talk about this with. Only one person she felt could possibly understand.
She scrolled down to find Damon in her contacts, but she hesitated over the call icon.
She wanted to talk to him. He was the only one who would get it.
But, after their awkward kiss, she didn’t really want to talk to him. It wasn’t as if she could just go up to him and pour her heart out. They would have to hash out what had happened and make sure where they stood.
As much as Freya didn’t want that, it was that or nothing.
She called him but, as was her luck, the phone rang out.
She realised that he was probably still in school, though he would have been most likely able to talk, given that he had a free period last. She closed her eyes, before shifting back to school.
Freya’s hand subconsciously moved to her pendant to tug at it as she entered the common room. She knew that Damon was the only one who would understand, but she hated having to be the bigger person. He was the one who had messed up, so he should be the one apologising.
Not that Freya had any intention of opening with an apology. But still, being the first one to break the silence felt far too much like one.
“Hey,” she said as she approached where he was sitting, unsure of exactly what she wanted to say next.
Damon looked up from his iPad, only to do a double-take.
“Freya... Why do you have wings?”
She had to stop herself from cursing under her breath. She had forgotten that he could see through glamours. She couldn’t even use a memory spell, as they would still be there after.
He got up and indicated to the corridor. She nodded, following him out and towards the music department.
The practice rooms were about the only place in the school that anyone could get any privacy.
As the heavy door slammed behind them, Freya’s wings flinched in a way that was far too real to pass off as costume.
Damon looked her over and Freya noted that his eyes were bright red, instead of their usual slightly-red brown.
“What’s up with your eyes?” she asked.
“My Demon half has become mo
re pronounced since yesterday and I don’t know why.” As soon as the words were out of Damon’s mouth, he looked terrified, clamping his hands over it, as if he was afraid to say anything more.
Freya ignored the signs of a truth spell as she ignited her hands to flame.
“You’re a Demon?”
He took his hands from his mouth. “Half Demon,” he corrected.
“Your father?” she asked, taking a wild stab. It would explain quite a bit.
Damon nodded.
“And your uncle? He’s a Demon too?”
Another nod.
Freya filed that away to think on later. Gregor had never been anything but nice to her. She couldn’t really comprehend him being a Demon.
“What about you?” Damon asked with a frown. “You have wings and... flame hands.”
“An Angel, I think.” The words forced their way out of her mouth without her consent, informing her that Damon wasn’t the only one affected by a truth spell.
“An Angel?” Damon asked, his eyes wide. “But there aren’t supposed to be any.”
“Please don’t ask me how,” she pleaded. “Not with a truth spell in effect.”
Damon narrowed his eyes. “Even forced to tell the truth, you still want us to lie to each other?”
“Says the Demon.”
“Half-Demon. And you never told me that you were an Angel, so get off your bloody high horse.”
Freya folded her arms. She knew that he was right, but she was still seething over Amber.
“I thought you were Human. I can’t sense magic from you.”
“I have protections. And I couldn’t sense magic from you either. Which I guess makes sense if you’re an Angel. So, what? The Council of Light have been keeping you hidden?”
“They don’t know I exist. No one does.”
Damon nodded, understandingly. “Yeah, me too.”
She frowned. “How come?”
“My non-Demon half.” His face was contorted, telling her that he was doing everything in his power to word his answer so that the truth spell wouldn’t give away something he didn’t want her to know.
“Weren’t you just having a go because I didn’t tell you the truth?”
He sighed. “I know, it’s just... It’s been so long, and I have no idea if we’re on the same side.”
“I’m not on any side,” she told him firmly. “I’m on my own side.”
“Really? No allegiance to Light or Dark magic?”
“They’re just words to me. What about you?”
“I’m loyal to those who took me from my father.”
“So, your aunt and uncle? And they’re Demons?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Do they know about the rogue Demons that have been harassing this city? Harassing me?”
“Yes. But they haven’t had the resources to deal with them and the Angel...” He trailed off as he put two and two together. “I guess that was you. You’re the Angel of the North...”
“Okay, seriously? That’s what they’re calling me now? Bloody hell, I thought ‘The Angel’ was bad enough.”
He smirked in a way that caught her off-guard. Her heart skipped a beat, reminding her angry brain that this was Damon in front of her.
And she was talking to him about magic.
How the hell had she turned it into a bad thing?
“You don’t like it?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t take too kindly to being named for a giant hunk of metal off the A1.”
“Aww, I like the angel.”
“So do I, but it doesn’t mean that I want to be named for it.”
She sighed, deciding to refocus.
“Seriously, though, now that we’ve figured out that we’re not on opposite sides of any magical blood feuds, what the hell is up with this truth spell? Who cast it?”
“I... It might have been me...”
“You?” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Why would you risk a truth spell? You didn’t know that I was hiding magic too.”
“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose! I think I tapped into the excess by accident. I just... I was sick of hiding the truth from you. My true nature. I guess the true nature bit is responsible for the wings and eyes as well... But Freya, being around you and not being able to tell you - not wanting to drag you into my world - was torture.”
“Well, I guess you got your wish. Neither of us are hiding now.”
She stepped closer to him without thinking. A subconscious invitation now that the truth was out of the way.
He swiftly closed the gap between them, his hands going to grip her hips as his mouth joined hers.
Memories from the Shadow Realm once again took hold, telling her how to wrap her hands around his sides to make him growl in his throat.
He pulled away, a little breathlessly, as they could once again smell smoke.
Freya looked to see that both of them had Energy dancing across their skin, singeing their clothing.
“Does this usually happen?” Freya asked him. She didn’t exactly have a lot of experience in the kissing department.
At least, not kissing like that.
“I can usually keep it restrained, but then, I’ve never kissed anyone I lo-” He cut himself off, looking slightly terrified of what he had almost said, before almost doubling over with laughter.
“What?” Freya asked him.
“I was just almost terrified to say that I loved you, in case you didn’t feel the same way, but I know that you do, Snow White.”
She frowned. Damon had woken her up in the Shadow Realm, so how did his Earth counterpart know?
Except the Shadow Realm was only a reflection of Earth. So, he had woken her in both realms.
“You were the one who woke me up with true love’s kiss.”
He nodded. “And true love is clearly defined by the laws of magic. It has to be reciprocated. You love me back.”
She nodded.
“You never said anything.”
“For the same reason as you. I thought you were Human.”
The bell rang to signal the end of the day and Damon cursed.
“My uncle’s expecting me back home. You could come too...”
“No, I... Damon, I trust you, but I’m not ready for people to know what I am. It will only put me in danger.”
Damon nodded. “I understand. I won’t tell him.”
“Thank you.”
Damon gave her a quick peck before shifting away, leaving her to process everything that had just happened.
MUCH TO FREYA’S RELIEF, her foster parents didn’t speak to her about anything of note when she arrived home. It seemed they had decided not to tell her about the pregnancy yet, which she was more than happy about. She needed time to process and figure out what the correct response would be. It would be happy, she assumed. Being happy would be most appropriate. But then what about the implications for her? Would they address that right away? If they didn’t, would she have to ignore it until they did, or was there a polite way for her to approach it?
Thinking about it was giving her a headache, so she turned her focus to her combat equipment as soon as her bedroom door shut behind her, wondering which weapon she most felt like using.
To her relief, she didn’t feel the almost imperceivable change in air pressure that seemed to occur shortly before Amber appeared. Freya knew that it had been a while, but she couldn’t find anything in herself but fury when she thought of her great-great-grandmother.
It was strange to think of Amber like that, but Freya had to admit that she had been a fool not to see it earlier. It explained why Amber had defied Death to look after her. And how a simple promise between her and Freya’s mother had allowed her to. Mel had said that a promise between two Witches would mean nothing to Death, but Freya supposed a promise between an Angel and the Matriarch of Angels was a different matter. Especially with shared blood involved.
Freya pushed Amber from her thoughts as she
starting getting changed into her armour. Between her, Damon, Margaret, and Alice, Freya was getting tired of everything blowing up in her face.
She needed a quiet night to refocus. Hunting Demons seemed like familiar enough ground to be comforting, though she struggled with the tricky clasps of her armour.
Freya had never been an elegant person. She was bumbling and clumsy. Usually, it wasn’t so bad as to cause her problems. A few knocked over drinks and ugly handwriting weren’t the end of the world. Even her fighting style relied on the use of her magic and hacking blows, rather than finesse.
But when she was tired, anything finicky was beyond her, from shoelaces to belt buckles. It didn’t help that she had to lace up in an awkward new arrangement thanks to her new wings in the way.
Freya briefly considered not heading out, given how sluggish she felt. Surely, had Amber been there, she would have advised against it.
That was enough to solidify Freya’s determination to go.
Freya strapped her sword to her side before heading out of her window.
Chapter Six
It took Freya all of five minutes of wandering to sense a concentration of Dark energy. She sighed. As much as she wanted a fight, part of her always hoped that she wouldn’t find anything when she searched. That, for just one night, the Demons would be quiet.
She shifted to their location, immediately finding them. There were two of them, advancing on a boy about her age, who was struggling not to trip over his feet as they manipulated his fear.
Why is it that Demons always insist on acting the cliche? She thought to herself as she drew her weapon.
“Hey, asshats! Over here!”
She sent a barrage of flame their way as they spun around.
They dived in opposite directions to avoid her blast.
“It’s the Angel!” one yelled over to the other.
“At last! I thought we would be chasing Humans all night.”
Freya barely had an opportunity to ponder just how suicidal they must have been to want to draw her out, before the one who had dodged to the left made it out of the blast unharmed, drawing a sword from his side to strike at Freya. She lifted her own in response, blocking his attack.