Celestials

Why in the hell had I ever agreed to write a story about natural beauty tips? It was an asinine fluff piece and now I was forced to talk people who had judged me my whole life.

A raindrop pelted my cheek. Great, now it was raining. I would have to talk to these gossiping biddies looking like a drowned rat. Why in the hell didn’t I take the car instead riding my stupid, ancient bike?

Oh right, because since being back at home I hadn’t been to the gym and thought I needed some exercise. Because Aleut Harbor didn’t have a gym. Why would they have modernized? It was much preferable to live in the freakin’ dark ages in order to preserve tradition.

As the rain started to fall heavier, I threw a silent curse to my editor. Normally, working on stories for The Exit, a hard-issue-tackling online journal, was exhilarating. I loved the research, the interview, writing, and even editing the piece. Nothing was more satisfying then seeing my byline in print…or on the computer. But this story was ridiculous.

I grew up in a house with my brother and father. What the hell did I know about beauty? It took my college roommate all four years to teach me enough about make-up and fashion so I didn’t look like a complete loss – most of the time at least. Now I was the idiot riding my old ten-speed to Aleut Harbor’s small strip of a Main Street to talk to locals about their natural beauty tips. My editor thought it would be a brilliant piece to do while I was back at home.

Home. Ha!

Home was back in San Francisco where it was warm. Not a place I tried to avoid except on holidays and obligatory family visits when I could hole up at Da’s house, relatively unnoticed. Now I was stuck in Aleut Harbor, Alaska for god knows how long while Da recovered and I tried to avoid the townspeople burning me at the stake.

Deb’s Beauty Barn was barely visible through the now steady stream of rain. Its neon sign flashed ‘Open’. I leaned my bicycle up against the front window, not bothering to lock it up. If someone really wanted to steal a seventeen-year-old ten-speed in a downpour, they were more than welcome to it. At least that would ensure a dry ride home in a cab.

I shook out my jacket as best I could under the awning. At least it had some weather proofing to it. Walking into Deb’s Beauty Barn, I focused on taking my wet backpack off so I could prolong facing the judgmental stares. At least my backpack was waterproof so my notebook didn’t get wet and my laptop was securely back in my old room at Da’s.

“Honey, you look like a drown rat. Did you swim here?” laughed Margot, my best friend since childhood and also head beautician. We hadn’t been as close when I moved to California but we still talked a lot and reconnected in the week since I’d been home.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief with her here. The interview would be a lot easier with Margot around. Despite her petite five foot stature, long blond hair and child-like blue eyes, Margot was a bulldog when it came to those she loved. She would fight mean and dirty to protect them. I could never repay Margot for the number of times she fought for me over the years.

I laughed back. “I thought I would get some fresh air and exercise.”

She shook her head disapprovingly at me. “And I suppose checking a weather report never crossed your mind?” Before I could answer she smiled warmly. “Same old Rory. Now, come sit under one of the driers, it should help.”

Used to dealing with her four kids, she didn’t wait for my answer and dragged me to a drier and sat me down. The clear helmet was thrust over my head and the thing was turned on full throttle. I couldn’t hear anything but the warm air blowing on my chilled skin and wet hair.

The two elderly women sitting diagonally across from my drier eyed me suspiciously. I tried to give them a friendly nod, pretending like they hadn’t known me my whole life. Mrs. Edler, the seventy-something sitting closest to me, had babysat me for years. Her sister next to her had gone to church with me my whole life. In a town of less than four thousand, everyone knew everyone and they also knew everyone’s business.

Instead of looking at them I turned to the mirror across from me. Dear god, no wonder they were eyeing me. I looked exactly like the hooligan they suspected me to be. My shoulder length red- brown hair was in desperate need of a brush and now frizzing as it dried. Deep blue eyes, laced with frustration stared back at me from a pale, heart-shaped face speckled liberally with freckles. My nose was on the small side and slightly crooked from a mishap in kick-boxing class in high school. The full richness of my lips was definitely my best feature, but even they were slightly purple because of the freezing rain. I stripped off the big coat I was wearing over my athletic frame. The jeans and light sweater were my standard uniform. Unfortunately, my battered converse soaked my feet and there was nothing I could do about it. All-in-all, I was a hot mess.

My head started to prickle. The sensation ran from my temples down to the base of my neck. Unconsciously, I touched a finger to my temple. This couldn’t be happening now. Go away, I told the feeling.

I glanced in the mirror again to see if the prickle registered on my face. Everything seemed normal, except for the wings that were reflected back to me.

Wings?

Trying to be calm, I looked back in the mirror. Sure enough, a pair of white wings were reflected as if a giant bird were standing outside the window. What the hell?

Casually I stretched, craning my neck around to get a view of the front window.

Nothing.

My eyes flew back to the mirror.

Nothing.

What the hell? I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Nothing. Letting out a groan, I flopped back in the chair, almost knocking myself unconscious on the hair dryer. Mrs. Edler and Van Buren both gave me disapproving glances but I couldn’t muster up enough energy to care. I wanted to know what the hell was going on.

This was not the first time I felt the prickle sensation shoot from my temples to my neck, nor the first time I had imagined seeing wings. It had been happening intermittently since my twenty-ninth birthday. I was too afraid to go to a doctor about it for fear that he would tell me I was insane. My past was bad enough, I didn’t want to be the crazy girl now too. The weird prickle and winged visions had been getting worse, but yesterday was the first time it was accompanied by a voice.

I had been making dinner for Da and Boreas, my older brother, when I heard it – a soft, undistinguishable voice. It sounded so determined I almost wanted to laugh. Almost.

We will find you and you will be ours.

That was all it said.

Hands grabbed onto mine and I jumped, thinking the voice had found me. My head crashed into the dryer and the old biddies gave me another sour glance.

“Honey, are you all right? I didn’t mean to scare you,” Margot told me, helping me stand.

“Fine,” I replied, trying to rub away the hurt and the prickle sensation in my head. I’m sure I was making more of a mess of my already obliterated hair.

I followed Margot’s round figure. She always told me she needed to lose weight, but she was one of those women who carried her weight in those distinctly feminine places, just making her look sexy. I, on the other hand, could use a little more curvature on my runner’s frame.

Once we got to the back room, she sat me down on a chair and took the reclining chair they used to wax people. Janelle, the owner of the Beauty Barn was sitting in the other chair. Deb hadn’t owned the Beauty Barn in thirty years, but in all the number of times it changed hands, no one ever changed its name. Janelle didn’t look happy to see me.

I leaned over to politely stick out my hand. “It’s good to see you again, Janelle.” She had been a few years younger than Margot and I in school.

Janelle nodded back, pretending like she didn’t see my hand.

Margot rolled her eyes. “For godsake, Janelle, you’re not going to get cooties or catch whatever you got in your little brain that you think poor Rory has.”

I removed my hand before anything got more awkward and pulled my notebook out of my bookbag. I knew using the notebook instead of a recorder or laptop would make everyone more comfortable. Besides, it’s not like with beauty tips I was going to need to quote anyone exactly. This was not a Presidential address.

“Why don’t we get started?” I asked, gritting my teeth and summoning every professional bone in my body. “Since you’re now owner of Deb’s, I thought you might have some all natural or home remedies for every day beauty. You’ve always looked really good.”

That was true. Janelle had always been a natural beauty: tall; thin; long, chestnut hair; and big, brown eyes. She looked much younger than she was.

“Thanks,” she smiled, but it was forced. “It’s nice to see you used that fancy college education to write those hard-hitting issues you always babbled about.”

“Hello? Did you see her piece on green energy and the oil problem? Or what about the one about the war in Afghanistan. Didn’t you win an award for that, Rory?” Margot asked me, anger lacing her voice.

“Just a small one,” I muttered humbly. “The U.N. and several women’s groups were impressed with my representation of the women and children of the war.” Then I smiled wider at Janelle. “Now what are your top tips for all natural beauty remedies? The Exit readers are really interested.”

As Janelle rattled off her top beauty secrets, Margot piping up here and there, I could only half-focus on what they were saying. Luckily, it wasn’t something I needed to focus my full attention on.

The thing is Janelle was right. I was an award winning journalist tackling beauty tips. Something you give to a fresh faced intern, not a seven year veteran.

Be glad you have a job, my conscience whispered. And it was right. My editor had been extremely understanding when I asked to work from Aleut Harbor to take care of Da. But working remotely from the small, isolated crabbing town meant I had to take whatever assignments I could and no research in the field.

I finished up asking the questions I had prepared and even had a few of the other patrons jump in with their home remedies. With enough information to write my article, I stuffed everything back into my backpack and waved goodbye to Janelle.

Margot walked me to the door, which was thankfully full of sunlight. “I’m sorry about her. Normally, she’s not that bad.”

I shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

She pinned me with her baby blues. “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck, Rory. I know you and every time you come back it’s like you’re nine again.”

I smiled sadly. Besides Da and Boreas, Margot was the only one who really understood everything. “Thanks, Margot. And thanks for the interview. I’m pretty sure Janelle would have said no if you didn’t rope her into it.”

It was her turn to smile. “It’s fun to watch her squirm. Now, you and I are going for drinks this week as soon as Chuck tells me what night he can stay with our little hellions. Oh, and are we still on for lunch tomorrow?” Margot had four gorgeous kids and a husband she adored. She should be mother-of-the-year every year for how amazing she was with them.

I nodded. “Just let me know about drinks. I’ve been watching every Mariners game on,” I sighed.

Her eyes twinkled. “Which means you’re drinking wine and reading up in your room.”

I nodded. “Exactly. I’ll see you. And thanks.”

Her hand reached out and grabbed me before I exited. Margot stretched on her toes till her mouth reached my ear. “Oh, and I hear the new guy on your crew is a hottie, honey. I want details once you see him. And if you happen to fall into bed with him, please give me all the details.”

“Margot!” I hissed. “I’m not going to be falling into bed with any strange fisherman.”

“Why not, Rory? Live a little. You need it, honey.” Her eyes twinkled again. “Besides, I hear he is very tall, dark, and hot.”

I rolled my eyes at her, knowing the best way out was to pacify her. “Okay, I’ll give you details when I meet him. The boat is docking today, so if he has nowhere to go, you know Da always invites the strays to our house.”

“Then get him, honey!” She laughed and smacked my butt.

Laughing, I walked to get my bike. Aside from being unable to shake the feeling that I was being watched, the ride home was nice – sunny and dry. As I pulled my bike into the driveway, the prickling feeling returned to my temple. My body couldn’t help but look around. Was the winged thing following me home? My eyes searched the street and Da’s yard, but I came up with nothing.

We will find you.

The voice again. It filled me with dread. What the hell would find me? Had they already found me? Were they watching me put my bicycle in the garage?

I sprinted into the house my heart pounding. The prickling sensation got worse and I was expecting something to attack me at any moment. I made it into the backdoor unscathed and shucked off my wet coat and boots in the mudroom. Faster and less sane than anyone should enter a house, I pulled the kitchen door open and slammed it behind me, leaning my weary body against it. My heart barely slowed.

“Jesus girl! Were you that frightened I would burn dinner?” Da’s voice in the doorway made me jump. Unfortunately, he noticed. “What’s with you lately?”

I shook my head and tried to smile. It was a nice attempt that failed miserably. “Nothing, Da. Just the usual. People getting to me.”

I made myself busy checking the chicken parmesan in the oven so he couldn’t see my face. Before I made it into the house, I swear there were wings reflecting in the glass windows.

“Ingrates should leave other’s business alone,” Da grumbled.

Under the best of circumstances the way everyone treated me bothered him. Now that he was laid up on the couch and not working for a few weeks, it made him grumpier than usual. I looked over to the doorway. Da was a shrunken, older version of my brother. His recent back injury making him seem smaller than usual. My father’s golden brown hair was shorter than Boreas’s and sprinkled heavily with gray. His normally leather skin was several shades lighter from being inside. Da had his favorite pair of jeans and flannel shirt on - a big change from the pajamas he had been wearing all week since I’d gotten here.

I lifted my brow at his attire. “What’s the occasion?”

Da shrugged his shoulders, always a man of few words. “Ship docked.” Then he looked me up and down. “You should clean up,” he advised me, but his tone was more of an order than a suggestion.

“I will,” I sighed. Flashbacks of being a teenager and having this same conversation were running through my head. It’s like the past ten years never happened.

“And brush your hair. You know, girl stuff.”

I knew what girl stuff was, but I’m pretty sure Da didn’t. Normally, Da liked the fact that I dressed in jeans, t-shirts, and my hair was in a standard ponytail. He never cared that I was anything more than clean unless...

“No, Da,” I whined.

“What?” he asked, his face going for the picture of fatherly innocence. The mischief in his eyes betrayed him.

“Don’t what me. I can tell you’re up to something. The only time you make me do ‘girl stuff’ is when you invite asinine men over to parade me in front of.” Every time I came home, he invited single men over in hopes of a love match that would keep me here. Problem is, with the exception of a few crew members Da picked up here and there, I had known every one of them since I was in diapers.

“Just some of the crew members,” he mumbled.

I smiled. “Then clean clothes and ponytail should be fine.”

Before he had a chance to answer, I pecked a kiss on his forehead and ran upstairs.

After showering and changing into jeans and a t-shirt that were thankfully dry, I brushed my hair, trying to get the red-brown strands into some sort of tame ponytail. I was about to head downstairs when my temples started prickling again. It felt like someone was watching me, boring a hole into the back of my head this time. Turning quickly, I tried to catch my stalker, but no one was there.

You idiot, you’re in a bathroom the size of postage stamp. If someone was in the shower, you would know. Chuckling to myself, I turned back to the mirror and fixed the damage the quick-turn had done to my ponytail.

The feeling of being watched didn’t go. I looked behind me in the mirror.

What the-?

I shot around again, this time pulling the shower curtain aside. Nothing.

I must be going crazy. I could have sworn I saw a pair of wings shadowed in the shower. But that’s crazy. Of course, everything happening to me was insane. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. At least there were no voices this time.

Downstairs my brother, Boreas, was sitting with Da and Benjamin. Yes, Boreas as in aurora borealis. My Da was obsessed with the phenomena so I was Aurora (not that I ever let anyone call me that) and my brother was Boreas – and our boat was the Aurora Boreas. It was lucky that Boreas has always been a muscular, good looking guy – otherwise he would have constantly gotten beat up on the playground.

I looked over at Benji, a crew member I had babysat when he was still in diapers. Desperately, I hoped he wasn’t the guy Da was trying to pawn off on me. The guy was all of twenty-one. Nodding in their direction, I made way into the kitchen. With my IPod blasting, I proceeded to make salad and some garlic bread, dancing and humming my way through the dinner routine.

It wasn’t until I ran headlong into a solid mass that I realized I wasn’t alone. Looking up at the tall, dark stranger I put a hand to my racing heart. The prickling sensation picked up in my temples.

“Jesus Christ! Ever heard of knocking?” I hissed at him, yanking the ear buds out.

I thought I caught a glimpse of a faint, ironic smile cross his face before it returned to its original stoic expression.

“I did knock. Three times.” He tapped one of the ear buds so it swung in my hand. “You didn’t hear me. I let myself in.”

Nodding, fairly mortified at this point, I turned to put the IPod on the counter. It was more to hide the flush on my cheeks then actually do any dinner prep. So this must be Mr. Tall, Dark, and Hottie that Margot mentioned. “Sorry. I was-“

“Very entertaining,” he cut in.

“Cooking,” I finished. When I turned around one side of his mouth was lifted in an amused half-smile.

“I’m Rory Marquadt. Bor-“

“The returned prodigal sister,” he told me, with a knowing smile.

I couldn’t help the snort of disbelief. “More like the black sheep or maybe black mark of the family.” I was under no illusions. The only reason people didn’t completely ostracize me was the love that they had for my father and brother. Otherwise, I was the fodder for town gossip and the one to ‘watch out for’, whatever that meant.

The stranger’s face flashed with incomprehensible discomfort. Awkwardly, he extended his hand. “I’m Jude. I’ve been working with Boreas and your father for about a month.”

Taking his hand something electric tingled up my arm. I couldn’t quite place it. Sure there was lust. He was an extremely good looking man. Jude towered several inches over me and I could feel the power that radiated from his lean, muscled body currently encased in jeans and t-shirt. His tanned skin and dark features made me wonder if he was of Arabic descent. Jude’s dark eyes widened at our touch and I caught a triumphant smile on his lush mouth. The stubble on his defined jaw and the tousled black hair that curled carelessly over his collar and ears didn’t take away from his regal air.

It wasn’t just lust though. Everything in me wanted to simultaneously indenture myself to him, and run screaming away. It was a strange sensation to have inside me.

As discreetly as I could, I snatched my hand away. It still felt warm and tingled faintly from his touch. I thought that if I looked down it would be glowing an electric blue. Confused at my body’s reaction to this man, I turned toward the oven.

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” I mumbled, discreetly checking my hand to ensure it wasn’t really glowing. “Da, Boreas, and Benji are in the living room watching baseball.”

“Did you need any help?” he asked, his voice polite to a fault. Did he feel nothing? Probably. Margot’s need to vicariously get laid through me and the strange sensations of the day were making me feel weird things. Oh wait, I was already going insane. This was probably just a manifestation of that.

“Nope.” I tried to affect a nonchalant air. “Almost done.”

Apparently, he missed my dismissive tone because Jude stood awkwardly by the door. After a few moments of him standing there watching me awkwardly organize the meal, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“There’s a beer in the fridge, if you want one. And the rest of the guys are in the living room.”

He nodded, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips again. However, the man was either an idiot at reading subtle hints or just ignored them because he took a beer and then leaned against the counter to drink it. His eyes followed me wherever I went.

“So, if you’ve only worked with Da for a month,” I tried, “where are you from?”

“All over,” he answered vaguely. I threw a pointed look that let him know I didn’t appreciate his lack of clarity. He smiled ruefully at me. “Originally, from the Middle East.”

Only slightly more clear.

“What made you come to Aleut Harbor?” I pressed.

He shrugged. “Just wandered here.”

What gives? It’s not like I was asking for the guy’s social security and bank account numbers. I was just trying to make polite conversation to ease the awkwardness of having this strange man so close to me - strange, attractive and peculiarly electric man.

I turned and handed him the glass salad bowl, wooden tongs protruding from the greens. “Put this on the table,” I ordered him.

I swear I caught a light chuckle as he exited to the dining room. The man was infuriating and he had been here all of about 3 seconds. With a huff, I put everything else on the table and called the men to eat.

Dinner proceeded with very little incident. Jude was still quiet and my dad was obviously trying to set me up with either Benji or Jude. He didn’t seem to particularly care which one I ended up with. Personally, I wanted nothing to do with either of them. Boreas just sat back and enjoyed the show. I was going to have to start inviting single women to dinner.

Boreas was incredibly good looking with his deep set blue eyes and curly brown-gold hair. His permanent tan and broad, muscular body only enhanced his already good looks. Women threw themselves at my brother and he was completely uninterested in settling down. I don’t know if it was because Boreas was a man or already living here, but Da never shoved unsuspecting women on him. It was so unfair.

Later, Boreas had cleaned the dishes and everyone returned to the living room to watch the baseball game. I carried my coffee mug back into the kitchen to put it in the dishwasher when a movement outside caught my eye. Turning off the kitchen light in hopes of seeing it better, I squinted into the darkness.

The figure moved again. It was a person whose details were buried by shadow . The moon was obscured by clouds, but I could faintly make out light hair and that it looked like a man. He took another step forward, obviously unaware I was watching him. The prickling that had been with me all night spread across my head to my neck.

Then two giant white wings unfurled from his shoulders.

What the-? My cup dropped out of my hand and bounced in the metal sink. No. Not wings, please don’t let them be wings.

“Shit,” a voice from behind me said. I could see Jude’s reflection in the window but he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at the guy. And he didn’t seem surprised to see him.

The guy still had wings attached to his shoulders. The prickling sensation turned into full on throbbing. I wasn’t hallucinating.

“You’re not hallucinating,” Jude whispered, fear in his voice. I must have spoken out loud.

But if I was hallucinating this could be one more thing to add to my insanity. So if I wasn’t hallucinating, were the voices and the prickles and the wing visions real? Shit. I had seen similar wings all over the place.

I couldn’t stop looking between the blond winged god in my backyard and Jude’s now angry face reflected in the glass. Panic rose in my throat. What the hell was happening to me?

Gently, Jude pulled me away from the window, so we could still see the…man in the yard but he could not see us. My back was flush against Jude’s warm body. Some part of my mind registered that I shouldn’t be this close to a man that infuriated me, but I couldn’t move away. He was the only solid, real thing at the moment. That and the pain that was shooting from temple to neck. I lifted a weary hand to my temple.

Silent moments passed as we both watched the guy in the yard, watching my house. I could feel Jude’s entire body tensed, ready for something. Finally, with a quick look around, the man flapped his pristine white wings and shot up into the sky.

My mind tried to wrap around what I just saw but I couldn’t. I spun on Jude.

“What the hell was that? Do you know what’s going on?” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to ward off the sudden chill that seeped into my bones. My eyes squinted a bit with pain from my head.

Jude’s arms were braced on the counter and his head and shoulders hung in defeat. After a moment he looked up and pinned me with dark eyes that suddenly held fear.

“Has anything else happened?”

I didn’t want to tell him about my crazy hallucinations. He would laugh…or drag me to a mental asylum. Either way, I was screwed because I was hearing and seeing things. Although, Jude had seen the winged man in my yard. At least, I think he did. If I was hallucinating things, it could have just been a big bird or the shadows.

Jude must have read the confusion in my eyes. His eyes pinned me and he kept his voice low. I guess he didn’t want to alert everyone in the living room. “What else happened, Rory?”

I didn’t know what it was, but I wanted to spill the truth to him. It was like an urge I couldn’t resist. I fought it, but after several moments I blurted out, “Just some prickles and well, throbbing…and also pain and some voices. Wings…a lot of wings.”

He stared at me and I thought that maybe he hadn’t heard me. I did mumble most of it. Surprisingly, he nodded like I had said something normal and walked toward the back door. Before he slipped out of it, Jude turned back and looked at me.

“Be safe, Rory,” he told me quietly.

“Jude?” Obviously, his sprint to the door told me he thought I was insane. That I was expecting. But the quiet, determined goodbye was confusing. What was going on in his head?

“We’re in trouble. They’ve found you.”

“What? Who?” God, could he be more cryptic or confusing or scary? What was going on and who found me? And why the hell are people looking for me in the first place? And why are we in trouble?

“Just be safe until I can figure some of this out.” And with that completely obscure statement he left. Thanks for nothing, buddy.

I stormed angrily up to my room and got ready for bed. If Jude actually did know something then he needed to include me in what was going on. Because, presumably, what was happening was happening to me. I was the one hearing voices and seeing wings and getting prickles and seeing stupid winged men in my backyard. What right did he have to be all cryptic with me?

And if he didn’t know what was going on then he shouldn’t mess with my head. Clearly, I was having some sort of mental instability. It was not nice to screw around with the crazy lady.

After a few more minutes of fuming, the stresses of the day caught up to me and I fell into a deep sleep.

Fires were burning all around me as I struggled to maintain my foothold on the rocky ledge. Two inches to the left was a sheer 100 foot drop. To my right was a rock wall stretching a hundred feet up. The giant cavern was shadowed with the flames of thousands of fires dancing on the walls. My skin boiled and I felt like I was literally burning alive.

Shuffling my feet, I tried to figure out what I was doing and why I was there. I moved forward slowly; the beat of slow, steady drums reverberating through the place. A low chanting reached my ears from farther down. Carefully, I inched forward.

The place was giving me the creeps.

As I turned a corner on my precarious ledge, I caught sight of several robed figures below me. They chanted and were walking ceremonially toward a large center fire. There was a figure behind the fire, but he or she was hidden by it.

Slowly, I moved down farther, pressing myself against the almost cool wall behind me. The rough stone rubbed my skin as I slid inconspicuously down the ledge. The path curved again and this time I could see the whole cavern below. The sight fascinated and horrified me all at the same time. My temples started prickling. The farther I moved, the worse it got.

The cavern floor was filled wall to wall with robed figures. All the hoods were up and they were all facing into the center where an enormous bonfire was set. I realized that the figure I had seen before was not obscured by the fire, but talking from within it. The people in robes were chanting louder and louder as the fires that circled them grew higher and higher. The heat increased and I could feel the air around me vibrating intensely. It felt like the skin of my body was going to pull off my bones. From temples to neck, my head wanted to explode apart with the pain.

I pressed further into the wall trying to catch my breath. It felt like I was dying.

Slowly, the bonfire in the center grew and then it flattened out on top, forming a platform. The figure in the center of the flames grew an enormous pair of wings and shot through the platform and then came to a gentle landing on top. The chanting grew louder, almost to a fevered pitch.

My body doubled over with the pain and my head was about to burst. I couldn’t take it. It felt like I was spinning at a high rate and every part of me was going to fling off into a million tiny pieces. I tried to breathe deeply but even that was hot and shattering.

Lifting my head, I tried to make out the form on the fire. From his body I could see he was tall and incredibly well muscled. He wore only a loincloth and his olive skin was slick with sweat. Every time he moved the muscles in his body rippled. His black and red wings were spiny and reminded me of a bat’s. I couldn’t make anything else of his features out, but saw his black hair was cropped close.

The chanting grew louder and I fell to the ground. At this point, I couldn’t have cared less if I fell off the ledge. At least I would be dead and I would be out of this body-splintering pain.

Whether it was a noise I made verbally or something else that happened when I fell, the robed figures were alerted to my presence. The room got silent and the Fire Guy looked up at me. My head still felt like it was going explode with prickling, throbbing pain. However, with the chanting stopped, the pain left and I could now see straight.

And just as quickly, I wished I couldn’t.

The Fire Guy’s eyes were a bright red and his teeth were pointed like a shark’s. And he was not happy with me. Whatever was going on, I was not supposed to be here. Wherever here was.

Suddenly, a jeans and t-shirt clad figure popped into my view. His black, feathery wings – different from all the other wings in this place – were flapping to keep him aloft.

“What the hell are you doing here, Rory?” he growled at me.

“Jude?” I asked. What was he doing here? Either in this place or in my dream at all.

Jude looked back toward Fire Guy and then his panicked face returned to mine.

“Listen Rory, you need to run. As fast as you can, up that way.” He pointed back the way I came.

I nodded, trying to get up. I had no idea what was up that way or why it was safer.

“Now!” he shouted. I could hear a commotion start in the cavern below me.

So I ran. Slipping, sliding from sweat and blinded by tears of fear. My only thought was to get as far away as possible. I thought my heart was going to explode.

Rocks skittered down the cavern as I lunged up the small ledge in the direction Jude pointed. He was flying behind me. When anyone got too close on foot or in the air, he was there throwing or kicking or punching them. Why was he defending me?

And then I slammed into a solid mass so forcefully, I bounced backward. My feet slid off the ledge and I would have fallen had Jude not caught me, holding me tight against his front. My only thought was that it was much like we were standing in the kitchen earlier. Our skin touching was just as electric as before.

“The prophecy,” I thought I heard Jude whisper in wonder. What did that mean?

And then my thoughts escaped. The burning sensation returned to my body.

Standing before me was the Fire Guy. A very, very pissed looking Fire Guy.

“Hand the girl to me, Jude,” Fire Guy’s voice boomed and reverberated off the cavern walls.

“No,” Jude said, his arms tightening around me. Then he leaned low and whispered in my ear. “Wake up, Rory.”

Wake up? How?

“This can be easy or we can make this hard on both you and the girl,” the voice echoed again.

“I guess it’ll be hard.” I could almost feel Jude’s cocky smile and his one lifted eyebrow. Why the hell was he antagonizing this beast? Jude leaned down again. “Dammit, Rory, wake up.”

“How?” I managed, my voice barely squeaking out of my dry throat.

Before I could try, the Fire Guy lunged at me at the same moment Jude bit down on the juncture between my shoulder and neck.