Wingless

by Taylor Lavati

  "Thanks," I say. His dark green eyes bore into me. I frown a little, because I don't understand why he's inspecting me so much. "Whats the matter?" I ask him when he's been staring far too long.

  "You're just so pretty," he says, letting his tongue trace his crooked teeth. "Would you like to dance with me?"

  "Uh, sure." I mean, why not? This makes him happy, because a smile erupts on his face, only it doesn't have the same effect as Micha's. Plus, this guy's teeth are all over the place. But I still let him take my hand and lead me into the throng of humans.

  I'm not really sure what to do when we're face to face in the middle of the bustling floor. I saw this movie once in class about students who refused to stop dancing. Their Guardians hated it and tried to ban dancing, but it didn't work. Other than that one little movie which barely taught me much, I have no experience dancing.

  The guy smiles at me and places his hands on my hips in an inappropriate way. I lean into it like I think I'm supposed to and he grabs me harder, clutching near my butt.

  I try to shy away from him, because I don't like how forward he's being. I'm not stupid, though. I get that it's just dancing, and I can see the other people in the room paired off having fun. But this guy rubs me the wrong way. He's kind of slimy.

  "I have to go to the bathroom," I blurt out before I can think of another excuse. I wish I'd said I was hungry or thirsty because having to go to the bathroom is stupid—especially since I don't have to…ever.

  "Let me take you," he murmurs in my ear, sending his hot breath down my spine. I nod. He can't go into the bathroom with me, right? He grabs my hand, and his palm is covered in sweat. I have to hide my cringe as I can feel the wetness touching me and sliding around my hand.

  "I'll be right back," I tell him once we're in front of the door. It has a little girl on it. Next to it is the boy's room.

  "I'll be waiting," he says and leans in towards my face.

  "No, it's okay." I step back and push open the door. I try to get him to go away. "I'll meet you back out there." I point towards the dance floor.

  I quickly shut the door behind me and lean against it so he can't get in. The room is mostly empty except for two girls in the far stall, giggling at each other. I look into the mirror at my face and my new self. I love the darkness and black accents. Next, I want to change my hairstyle.

  The two girls in the stall start grunting, and then giggle again. It makes me uncomfortable and I can only last another minute before I have to get out of there. I tentatively peek out the door and look from left to right. Luckily, there's no sign of the weird guy, so I turn the opposite way from the club in search of an exit.

  I think it's pretty clear that this is not the place for me. I haven't seen anyone that looks out of place or Angel-like, so my search for halflings is pretty much over for the night. I come across the back door and sigh, thanking Rem that I found it fast.

  I step outside the door when I'm pulled backwards by my hair. I cry out in pain and try to fight back, swinging my arms around blindly to try to find the source of my pain. I reach towards whoever's grabbing me and try to get them to release, but they're perfectly in my blind spot behind me.

  "Stop!" I yell out, kicking and grabbing and wiggling around to be freed. My scalp cries out as I can feel hairs being tugged from my head.

  "You thought you were going to walk out on me?" a raspy, male voice growls so close to my ear that I think his teeth actually graze it.

  "I just needed air," I tell him, hoping that he'll buy my story. I've never felt this way before. I'm completely captured, vulnerable, and useless. I hate this feeling. I should just give in. I was stupid for trying to mingle with humans before I truly understand their nature.

  "Well, you're going to get a lot more than air now." He laughs wildly in my ear like he's enjoying my torture. "Come. Let's go now."

  "I'm not going," I tell him, my voice hard and unforgiving.

  "What are you going to do about it?" I hate that he's so confident in attacking me. I hate that he's taking advantage of me. But I'm not going down without a fight. According to the Angels, I should be stronger than humans. So I muster my inner strength and grab his arm from across my waist.

  I pull it upwards and slam it down over my knee. He cries out in pain as I push down on his arm, bending it over my kneecap. He pulls away and snarls at me. I'm not sure if it's the noise that comes out of his mouth or the look on his face, but all I can think is Demon.

  "Oh no…" I mutter, backing up until I'm flush against a brick wall. I don't know how to fight a Demon. I mean, sure, I've gone through some training, but not nearly enough to take on a real Demon. This can't be happening to me. This is all Micha's fault. He should have warned me, stayed with me.

  "That's right, little Angel. Be scared." He narrows his gaze on me and actually smiles. His smile is wide, and evil, and crazy. His teeth are pointed, different than before in the club. He transforms before my eyes, taking on a red hint; his face morphing slowly. A part of me wants to watch as he transforms from human to Demon. But the smart part of me wins out.

  I turn and run as fast as my short legs will take me. One foot in front of the other. I start to run towards my apartment but then I think better of it. I don't want the Demon to know where I live. Before I even make it a block, the Demon is above me, swooping down over my head. I catch sight of his red wings and know I'm in serious trouble.

  "Help!" I scream at the top of my lungs, but it's pointless. Nobody is around to hear me. I'm going to die at the hands of a Demon.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Nephalem

  My head aches and my chest burns; my feet and legs and arms feel as if they've been dislocated, numb, and lifeless. My mind is hazy and black, but as I try to move around, I feel my back press against something hard and unrelenting. With each small movement of my body, stones dig into my bones. My eyes finally spring open, but I can't see much. The darkness isn't only in my mind: it's literally nighttime.

  I sit up straight, trying to push the pain from my mind, when I remember the Demon that attacked me. He has to be around here somewhere. He wouldn't just leave me alone and alive. Demons are killers to the core, and I was about as vulnerable as you can get.

  "Be careful," a soft voice captivates my attention. "Don't move too much, Angel."

  "I'm not an Angel," I mutter, testing my eyes as I use my peripheral vision. Left and right, all I see are blurry shapes in shades from gray to black. I try to focus on the figure above me, but her face is shadowed and too far away from me.

  "Then what are you?" a different voice asks. For some reason, this boy's voice is familiar, despite the fact that it's impossible to be so. The boy's face pokes over the back of the girl's head, just a dark oval in the darkness to me.

  "What are you?" I ask back, wondering how these people even know about Angels, let alone feel the need to call me one. It's not like we have a distinct smell. I don't look any different than humans. I'm thoroughly confused, although I attribute that to the Demon attack and the ache in the back of my skull.

  "I think we should get Luke," the boy says. "I don't know what to do." He sounds nervous and scared, unsure of himself.

  "You guys should get out of here. It's dangerous," I tell them as I sit up against what feels like more rocks. I groan as I rest my full weight on my elbow to give my back a break. It aches with even the slightest of movements, but I push through it so that I can see these people better. I'm curious to see if they have wings.

  "We're not going anywhere. Hare, call Luke," the girl says with a stern voice. Hare. The name is familiar—gym guy.

  "I know you," I tell him, squinting my eyes so I can get a better look. I want to confirm my suspicion. I inch closer.

  "I know you, too," he says back, almost teasingly.

  "But there's a bad guy," I start to say, but the girl cuts me off.

  She steps forward, right into the beam of a yellow, fluorescent street lamp. Her face is illuminated, her features
on full display. Her cheekbones rest high on her face, casting a shadow to her pointed chin. Her light blonde hair frames her face and curves right along her chin. The chopped, short bangs drastically dangle to her eyes. Her brown eyes focus solely on me with intensity.

  "We killed the Demon. Just sit tight, Angel," the girl says again, glaring at me. Hare moves away, into the shadows and out of my vision.

  "I said I'm not an Angel. So, stop calling me that." I look up at her from the ground, feeling small and hating that she continues to call me an Angel. My blood starts to boil, my heart rate picking up. The Angels deserted me. The title was ripped from me, and now, I don't even want it.

  "Luke's coming!" Hare yells as he returns to us. "Oh, she's fully awake now?" He pauses in front of me, looking down through his light lashes.

  "Nothing bad is going to happen to you," he tells me, nodding his head.

  "Why would I believe you?" I question back.

  "I thought we really bonded at the gym," he says, laughing to himself. The girl next to him punches his arm, and he snarls at her. "Just believe me, okay? Luke's a god among men."

  "Do you mind sitting here for a minute?" the girl asks from behind Hare.

  "I don't think I have a choice." I narrow my eyes on her, quirking my head to the side. "Who are you guys?" I ask as I try to adjust myself against the wall so I'm more comfortable. The duo stare down at me, both standing similarly with their arms crossed over their chest, leaning into their right hip with a little curious smirk on their face.

  "I don't understand what she is," Hare whispers to the girl. I know I wasn't meant to hear his words, but he underestimated my hearing. I want to continue eavesdropping, so I pretend like I didn't hear a thing and turn my head away from them.

  "Come here." She grabs Hare by the arm, and drags him a few feet away from me. I'm praying I can still hear their conversation. Luckily, her voice finds me easily. "She's definitely an Angel. Can't you feel it?"

  "I thought I could, but now I don't know. She keeps saying she's not an Angel. Archers always own up to it like, it's a privilege," Hare says. He sways on his heels and fixes his sleeves so they're rolled up to his elbows. He runs his hand along his chiseled jaw line and then drops it, as if he's frustrated.

  "She's definitely not an Archer." The girl pauses and darts her eyes to me like she has an idea. I glare back at her. "Let's check her wings." The two rush towards me. I tense up, because I know they're going to touch me. But at least it will prove that I'm not an Angel.

  Hare grabs my left shoulder, and the girl grabs my right. They pull me forward a little and start to move my jacket off of me. I let them, despite the fact that little daggers jab into my shoulder blades with their every probe. They maneuver me around—I can tell they're at least trying to be gentle, but it doesn't take the pain away—and pull the jacket off of me.

  I'm left cold, hunched over my knees on the ground with just a black tank top on. But, I hold my head high, proud. The girl reaches back and feels around for my wings; when she realizes they're missing, she jumps back away from me like I bit her.

  "You're human?" she asks, her voice filled with astonishment.

  "But I felt her at the gym and here," Hare mutters, gasping at his human discovery. His hand comes up to his face and covers his mouth.

  "I told you," I tell them, not hiding my snark. "I'm no Angel."

  "Oh no, oh no, oh no." Hare chants over and over, his head in his hands. He bends over and slams his fist on the ground. "Luke is going to murder us for this. We told a human about killing a Demon. We're so dead, Hannah!" he yelps.

  She reaches over and punches Hare on the arm; "Shut it, Hare!"

  Hare doesn't let it go this time. He punches her near the elbow, and she stumbles backwards. She yells something inaudible and then lunges for Hare, catching him around the neck. She drags him to the ground and starts wrestling him. I roll my eyes at their interaction, but it's entertaining, so I watch.

  "Enough." A new voice rises up high above the others. It's deep and commanding, booming as it vibrates through the alley. Immediately, I turn towards the sound and stare at its source. "What is going on here?" The man asks the two on the ground.

  The man is in complete opposition to a regular Angel's physical appearance. He's tall, standing at least two heads higher than me. A series of muscles protrude from his body, his clothing stretching to its limit. His arms look like they're about to break through his black tee-shirt.

  His hair is darker than mine. Black, if I had to put a color to it. His thick eyebrows turn up when he faces me, and his dark brown eyes clash with mine. He only looks at me for a second before he turns back to Hare and Hannah. I follow his gaze to the two. They're both standing almost in a perfect line, like they're soldiers. Hannah reaches down and dusts off her knee, and Hare reaches up to fix his spiky hair.

  "Well, a Demon attacked that girl," Hannah says, pointing over at me even though it's painfully clear I'm the 'girl.' She sounds nothing like before. Her voice is soft, scared, and shaky. All the fire is gone from her.

  "And we swooped in to help," Hare continues the story. "But she kind of held her own until the Demon grabbed her."

  "At first we thought she was fallen, but she feels like an Angel." Hannah uses her hands to talk along with her words. It's very amusing to me. I sit back, watching the pair explain their actions to what clearly appears to be their authority figure.

  "But we checked her back, and she doesn't have wings. She swears she's not an Angel. So now we're confused," Hare says, finishing the story.

  "So, basically what you're telling me is that you saved a human from a Demon, yet told this human about us?" the man, I'm guessing to be Luke, drawls. He has this way of talking that I've only seen in very high Angels. It's like he knows that he's the boss, and that people have to listen to him. It's intoxicating.

  "But we thought she was an Angel. She was running so fast!" Hannah yells.

  "Go back to the sanctuary, and I'll deal with you later," Luke demands. Hare and Hannah look at me briefly, their eyes only staying for a second, before running away down the alley. It's only a moment before they're gone.

  For some reason, and I really have no idea why, this guy doesn't scare me. He has all of the qualities in someone who should, though. He's large, dark, and domineering. He comes off brash and harsh and mean. But, at the same time, he's soft.

  "Who are you?" Luke asks me, staring me down. It bothers me for some reason. I don't like being on two levels. I brace my back against the wall and use the leverage to stand up. My legs wobble beneath me. A weird thump from inside my head bangs against my skull, and I know it's from whatever the Demon did to me. But despite being uncomfortable, I stand on my own two feet and show Luke how strong I am.

  "My name is Annie," I tell him, averting my gaze to the floor.

  He steps towards me like a threat. "That's not what I asked. I asked you what you are."

  "I'm human."

  "Liar," he immediately retorts, not giving me a chance to go on.

  "I am human," I reiterate.

  "I don't think you understand." He pauses, visibly angry at my answers. I just press my back harder against the brick wall to put as much space between us as possible. "I can feel what's inside of you. I know you're not human. So, either I can take you and experiment on you, or you can fess up."

  "I've been experimented on enough," I yell at him without thinking. The last thing I'll do is sit through more forced tests. I'd rather die. "I'm human, trust me." I make strong eye contact with him to show him the truth in my words.

  "I don't trust anyone," he declares.

  "Well, join the club. Can I go now?" I ask him, wanting to go back to my apartment so I can hide. My body needs to meditate, and I can't do that in an alley where Demons lurk around.

  "You could, but I think you're going to want to come with me."

  "And why's that?"

  "Because you seem different." He pauses, running his hand through his thick
head of black hair. "You're different. You're not human, I can tell you that much. There's a place for people like you. A place I own. We can help you."

  "Just what exactly do you think I am?" I ask him, my tone hard.

  "Well, you feel angelic, but you're apparently not. So you must be Nephalem, since I know you're not a Demon. I can't tell for sure, but I can feel it."

  "Nephalem?" I question the word.

  "Half angel, half human."

  "That's what you are? A halfling?" I question, my heart banging against my ribs. It all makes sense. I did what Perry told me to do. I found halflings.

  "Halfling?" He laughs, spiteful and angry. "Let me guess, an Angel taught you that word. Be careful what you say. Fallen or Nephalem are appropriate names. You shouldn't put yourself down like that," he says. He turns to leave me, but I don't want the conversation to end on his terms. Plus, I just found my Halfling, and I don't want to lose my chance of fitting in.

  "I'm not a Nephalem." I give in and tell him to truth just so I don't have to have this conversation anymore. "I'm just a worthless Angel without wings."

  "What?" He turns to face me, his eyes alight with wonder.

  "Yup," I answer, rolling my eyes.

  "Aren't you interesting," he says, grinning from ear to ear.

  "I'm not an experiment. I'm a person. And I'm sick and tired of people treating me like I'm weird or interesting." I step towards him like I might fight him, which is far from the truth. I'm not stupid.

  "Relax, okay? I can help you," he says, holding up his hands in front of him. I'm not sure what that means, but it seems apologetic.

  "How?"

  "By being around people similar to you. It's a safe place for non-humans. I'm not saying you have to live there. But you should come check it out."

  "Do I have to?" I ask back.

  "Of course not. Here's the address," he says, handing me a business card from his back pocket. I turn over the card in my hand, reading it. "Come by during the day. We hunt at night." His eyes glimmer with glee.