He desperately needed to talk to someone about this whole business. But who? Landon was far too young and his mother far too disinterested. Should he go to the authorities? Talk to a teacher? People in this community had a right to know that winged creatures straight out of a Grimm fairytale lived among them, didn’t they?
He exhaled noisily and rolled over onto his side. Wherever the answer hovered, he fell asleep long before he could reach for it.
At the sound of his alarm, Cal flopped an arm over to the nightstand and gave it a good whack. When the beeping stopped, he burrowed deeper into his covers for a few more minutes of sleep. It went by sooner than he liked and the alarm went off once again.
Finally, he swung his feet to the floor and stretched his arms overhead. A ray of winter sunshine flooded into the room, illuminating the tiny motes dancing within the beam. Outside, a dog barked. The roar of a truck sped by. And, in that very brief moment, the world was normal.
Then the evening before flashed back into Cal’s mind.
Nothing will ever be normal again.
He glanced over to the dresser and the large white feather lying on top. No, Stassi was very real. The Faedin were real. So what am I going to do about it?
Go to school.
As ridiculous as it sounded, at least getting back to his routine would buy him time to clear his head enough to think this through.
“Come on, Cal!” Landon whined from the bed on the other side of the room. “Shut off the alarm!”
Cal did as his brother asked, pulled his jeans on and went into the kitchen. His parents had already left for work, so he set about getting breakfast ready.
After a quick meal and an even quicker shower, he ushered Landon out of the house and they walked together down the dirt road from their house to the bus stop. Cal looked around warily for the Pervall brothers, but they were nowhere in sight.
When the bus pulled up, Cal followed Landon on board. While his brother ran to the back to sit with his friends, Cal slumped into a seat up front.
“Hi, Cal.”
He was forced to move over when Skylar James squeezed into the seat with him.
Cal frowned.
Skylar, arguably the prettiest girl at Mendon High, had never spoken two words to him despite their having been school mates their entire lives.
“Hey.”
“What have you been up to?”
You don’t want to know. “Not much.”
“There’s going to be a party in the clearing tomorrow night. Why don’t you come?”
He snorted. “You’re inviting me?”
She lifted a slim shoulder. “Why not? I thought you might like to hang out.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What time?”
“Four o’clock.”
“I’ll think about it.”
She squeezed his bicep. “Have you been working out or something?”
He pulled his skinny arm out of her grasp. “Hardly.”
“Well, you’re looking good, Cal. Hope to see you at the party.” She smiled prettily at him before getting up to sit elsewhere.
But there was only one pretty face crowding his mind, and she bore the name of Perstassia.
Mendon High crackled with activity. It was the Friday before Christmas break and everyone was anxious for the day to end. Including Cal. But his day also dragged for another reason. He had been contemplating going back into the woods.
Despite his earlier vow and all the talk about killing and mating, the Faedin dominated his thoughts. This weird sense of kinship that stemmed from the Shahda ceremony seemed to be growing throughout the day, filling his chest and mind with a painful yearning. So much so, that by three o’clock, Cal could think of nothing else but getting back to Stassi. Yes, she was beautiful and fearless and intelligent — and, of course, those appendages weren’t bad either — but, there was more to this magnetic attraction that gripped him in its throes and he was determined to find out what it was.
Mind made up, he decided to return to the Faedin that very afternoon to get the answers he needed. He also decided not to tell anyone else about their existence yet. If they weren’t causing any harm, there was no sense in stirring up trouble.
When the last bell of the day finally rang, Cal sprang from his chair and took off for the bus, a frantic need driving him on.
The ride seemed to take an eternity and when he finally arrived home, he didn’t even bother going into the house. He threw his backpack up onto the porch and sprinted into the woods.
He made it all the way to the clearing, where tomorrow night the kids from school would be having their party, before stopping to rest. He wasn’t sure what he thought yet about the unexpected invitation from Skylar James, but he had no interest in showing up. Their juvenile activities seemed so petty in light of what he now knew existed beyond the trees.
He left the clearing and walked along the trail where he’d discovered the feather. He searched and searched, but found no trace of the Faedin or their beautiful village. An hour went by. Then, two. The deep valley where he first met Stassi was nowhere within a mile of the clearing. How could everything have just disappeared? Had he imagined the entire encounter? That possibility seemed more and more likely with each passing hour.
“Stassi, can you hear me? Stassi!”
He continued on, running and shouting, but all it got him was a sore throat.
Finally, he decided to go home. Depression raked at him, but he couldn’t figure out why.
She’s just a girl.
With wings.
So why did if feel like so much more?
Along the way back, Cal found the perfect Christmas tree for Landon and marked it. In an attempt to forget about the Faedin, he went home, grabbed his brother and they returned to the woods with an axe to chop the tree.
His mother squealed when they dragged it in through the front door, making Cal realize just how long it had been since he had seen an actual smile on her face.
Ignoring the grumblings of her husband, Evie Taylor went into the basement to retrieve a box of decorations. Together, Cal, Landon and his mother put the ornaments on the tree and chuckled at old memories. Cal wished it could always be this way. Just the three of them.
At the sound of another beer cracking open, Cal glared at his stepfather through the glittery branches. How much better their family would be without him. Any person who derived such sadistic pleasure in harming others didn’t deserve to be here.
I wish he were dead.
I wish even more that I had the guts to do it myself.
CHAPTER 6
Dark Shadows
The boy does not move yet the shadow drifts closer to his hiding place between the rocks and wrenches him free by his ankle. Harsh, guttural words echo hollowly in the cave. Fetid breath blasts over his face.
Then, there is pain.
Always, the pain.
Every nerve is on fire. Every muscle clenched tight in fear.
Alone in the darkness, the boy cries out for help. He cries for ears that can’t hear — that refuse to hear. Yet it doesn’t stop him from trying. From hoping that maybe this time she’ll come.
She doesn’t.
Cal bolted upright in bed, the sweat-soaked sheets twisted around him, and gulped in long, calming breaths. His heart thumped so violently against his ribs, he thought they might break.
It had been some time since he’d had the shadow dream.
But not long enough.
It took several minutes for the panic to subside, but finally it did and he unraveled his damp body and stumbled out of bed. A glance across the room told him that his panic hadn’t awakened Landon. Not that much could.
He picked his jeans up off the floor and stepped into them, but glanced down in surprise when he couldn’t get them buttoned. What the hell? The bottom of his jeans stopped short at his ankles. Huh? He had outgrown them overnight?
His initial excitement that he might finally be filling out waned at
the more pressing concern of what he was going to wear since he only owned two pairs of jeans. He rummaged through his drawers and finally decided to try sweatpants that had been too big for him. Surprisingly, they fit perfect now, not just in length but around the waist.
He shook his head and left the bedroom with a more pressing matter filling his mind. Somehow, some way, he would find the Faedin today.
At the doorway into the kitchen, his mood darkened at sight of his stepfather sitting at the table drinking a beer. It really amazed him how little one could contribute to society when they put their mind to it.
“Where’s Mom?” Cal asked.
Ross Taylor lifted his head from the newspaper in front of him. “Do I look like a fucking babysitter?”
“Whatever.” He turned to go.
“Don’t make no plans for today. You’ve got chores to do.”
Cal threw a scowl back over his shoulder. “What chores?”
“We need more wood cut.” Ross grinned. “A lot of it. And, when you’re done with that, you can clean out the basement.”
“And I suppose you’re just going to sit there and do nothing but drink all day?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew what a mistake they were. His stepfather’s lip curled in anger and he stood, tipping his chair over backwards.
Cal turned to run, but Ross came around the table in a maddened rush and caught him by the shirt. A beefy fist swung at his head, but he managed to duck just in time. The movement spun his stepfather into a drunken reel. Cal dove toward the stove, picked up a frying pan and whipped it at him.
Ross swatted the pan out of the air and charged him once again. This time, the fist connected and blood blossomed in Cal’s mouth. He fell to the ground and his stepfather fell on top of him.
“Get off me!” Cal cried, wriggling beneath his stepfather’s weight. “I’m so sick of your shit!”
Ross ground his hips into Cal’s backside. “Maybe you need an old-fashioned spanking, you little bastard.” Ross’s hands dug beneath the waistband of Cal’s sweatpants and started to tug them down. “Get these things off!”
Cal snapped.
He rammed his elbow back with as much force as he could. He heard the crunch of bone, followed by Ross’s scream.
The heavy load lifted off him, and he scrambled to his feet and ran for the door.
“Don’t you come back, you hear me?” Ross hollered. “If you do, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes. You and your bitch mother!”
Cal grabbed his coat and slammed out through the door. After taking the time to put on his boots, he flew off the porch and ran. The wind tore through his hair, the tears froze on his cheeks. That inexplicable need to see Stassi was back and it burned through him.
When the clearing came into view, he skidded to a stop. “Stassi!”
He spun in a circle, praying she would hear, but like yesterday, there was no answer.
“Stassi!”
The silence of the woods had never been more deafening.
Why can’t I find her? Has she changed her mind about me?
No, he refused to believe that and started to run again, searching for any landmarks that looked familiar. At one point, he thought he found the lip of the valley where the Faedin village lay, but he found nothing below but winter-torn trees.
It wasn’t until his stomach growled in protest that he realized he had been at his search most of the day.
Now what?
The soft sounds of laughter drifted to him.
Stassi?
Hope flared in his chest. He raced toward the sound, but lurched to a stop when he came upon the source standing in the clearing. Half a dozen of his schoolmates were there, starting a fire in the round pit. Two of the boys were passing around a brown paper bag and taking swigs of whatever alcohol it contained inside. Others were cracking open beers or lighting cigarettes.
Skylar James sat on a stump, huddled in her jacket. To Cal’s horror, she glanced up and spotted him.
“Hey, look everyone. Cal made it.”
All eyes swung toward him and he berated himself for being seen. The last thing he wanted to do was spend time with these people, but it would look stupid if he turned away now.
Skylar jumped up and came over to him. “Hey, Cal. What’s up?”
He simply shook his head.
“Come on. You look like you’ve had a shitty day. Let’s have a drink.”
Cal numbly walked behind her as she pulled him over to the group.
“Cal, you know everyone, don’t you?”
He nodded, grateful that the Pervall brothers weren’t there. The kids greeted him warmly, just like he was one of the gang.
Only, Cal Taylor had never been one of the gang.
Ever.
One of the boys held out the bottle toward him. Cal reluctantly accepted it and took a long pull. The fiery burn of whiskey slid down his throat, warming his stomach.
Skylar let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him close to her. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do the same to her.
Soon more laughter filled the clearing and, this time, Cal laughed with them. Just part of the crowd. A normal teenager hanging out on a Saturday afternoon. It felt good. After several more gulps of the alcohol, his typically tense body started to relax, and all thoughts of psychotic stepfathers and exotic creatures melted from his mind.
Skylar lifted her face to his. “Are you having fun?”
“Yeah, I am,” he told her truthfully.
“I’m glad you came.”
“Me, too.”
Her look suddenly turned quizzical. “There’s something different about you, Cal. I noticed it yesterday. What is it?”
He shrugged.
“Whatever it is, it looks good on you.”
Cal felt a stirring in his loins and pulled Skylar close. He could see the dancing flames reflected in her eyes and it instantly reminded him of the ceremonial fire he had shared with Stassi. But, then, the girl with silver hair became a distant memory as the girl in his arms pressed her soft lips to his.
Stassi snarled at the barrier that kept Cal beyond her reach. The son of Adam should thank the fates that I cannot get to him at the moment! He would not find our encounter pleasant.
She eyed the girl with the paint on her face and lips, and spat on the ground. Soft. Weak. Just like all the children of Adam. Yet a pang of jealousy gripped her all the same. Ever since she had been a young girl, she had watched the female humans gather in this clearing, wondering what it would be like to leave duty behind and be so carefree.
Now she felt only anger.
Cal had promised to return yesterday and when he didn’t come back, she began to fear that something had happened to him. And now here he was, mating with another female as though he had never pledged himself to her.
The snarl became a scream.
“Is there a problem, Stassi?”
She whirled around.
Gilad stood against a tree with his arms crossed at his chest, his straight blond hair brushing the top of his shoulders.
“Go away, Gilad.”
He snorted. “Before this son of Adam came into your life, you wanted me close enough.”
She turned her back on him. “I never promised myself to you.”
He closed the distance between them in the beat of a heart and gripped her shoulders. He leaned down to whisper, his breath hot on her face. “I thought you wanted your wings, Stassi?”
She didn’t answer, just twitched him away.
Gilad brushed her long hair aside and ran a finger down her back. “Your wings, Stassi. The beautiful white feathers that give you strength and speed and will make you a great warrior. Are you ready for them?”
Stassi looked out at Cal once again. The girl in his arms was laughing at something he said. Yes, Gilad, I am ready for them. I have always been ready for them.
“Mate with me, Stassi. Let us join our bodies as one. I will show you
pleasure like you have never known.” Gilad’s hands moved down to untie the skin around her breasts. “Why are you wearing this? It is not the Faedin way.”
She swatted his hands away, but he would not be deterred. “I am better for you, Stassi! We are the same. We are Faedin. He is not!”
But Gilad was wrong. Although he didn’t realize it yet, Cal, too, was one of them. And Cal will be the one to give me my wings, Gilad, not you.
“No. I am sorry, but—”
Gilad ripped the skin from her body, spun her around and pushed her up against the tree. Rough bark scraped her cheek and she cried out. He ignored her pain and roamed his hands over her hips. “Accept me!”
“No!”
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked it back, exposing her throat. “I could take you very easily, you know.” One of his hands slid to the front of her body and squeezed her breast. A predatory snarl tore though his lips.
“This is not the Faedin way either,” she snapped, “and you know it.”
She wasn’t sure if he would heed her words. Lust filled Gilad’s eyes in a way she had never seen before.
His hands froze, but his body continued to tremble with need. “You will regret this, Stassi. Mark my words.” He shoved her to the ground with an angry push and took off into the air.
CHAPTER 7
The Trials
Uncontrollable shivers woke Cal with a jerk. Confusion muddled his brain and a raging headache pounded against his temples. He swallowed and winced at the taste in his mouth. Something very vile must have crawled inside and died while he slept.
He spat to the side and sat up, quickly realizing that he was outside in the freezing cold, practically naked. He wore no shirt or jacket and someone had written MORON across his stomach with a black marker.
Great.
Was last night all just a big joke to his new friends? Getting him drunk only to strip him and leave him out to die of hypothermia? Even if it were true, he couldn’t help the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth.
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