Fury Frayed

The rain let loose, not in a light sprinkle that increased in ferocity, but in a downpour accompanied by a flash of lightning and boom of thunder. Frigid water soaked my hair in seconds. I didn’t care.

Grateful for a reason to look away from the intensity of Oanen’s gaze and to wash away the girl’s blood, I closed my eyes, tipped my head to the sky, and ignored my shivers.

I let the rain wash away more than Camil’s death. I let it take the remnants of my anger, guilt, and self-pity. Trammer might piss me off to hell and back, but he cared about his niece, which meant he wasn’t all bad. And, from the sounds of things, he was the only family she now had. I would need to remember that the next time I saw him. There was nothing I could have done for the girl in the alley. Discovering her body might mean she’d get justice if Adira found Raiden in time. And, who cared if my mom never came back. She had made her choice. It had nothing to do with me. Or my anger issues.

Yeah, right. What mom wanted a daughter who got into fistfights almost daily, swore like a drunk when mad, and—

The rain suddenly stopped touching my face. I opened my eyes and blinked at the canopy of feathers over my head. Slowly, I traced them to their source. Oanen. He watched me closely, his wings curved overhead, a protective shield from the rain.

He lifted his hand and gently moved a wet strand of hair from my cheek. His fingers stayed there a moment, lightly caressing my skin as our gazes held.

“A thousand lifetimes and a thousand dreams could never conjure this,” he said.

“What?”

“I should have asked you to dance.”

My chest ached as I understood what he was getting at, and this time there was no denying or misunderstanding his meaning.

“Don’t.” The word came out a hoarse whisper.

“Don’t what?” he asked.

“Don’t want me. It’s not safe.”

I recalled the look of hate my last boyfriend had given me as he’d bled from his nose, and I knew I wasn’t talking about Oanen’s safety but my own. It would hurt more than I cared to admit to have him look at me like that.

Unaware of my thoughts, Oanen smiled slightly, a drop of water falling from his wet hair to his chest. I swallowed hard and followed its trail, wishing more than anything that it was safe for him to want me. Because, I wanted him like I’d never wanted a boy before.

“It’s too late,” he said.

I looked up again, my questioning gaze meeting his.

“I’ll never stop wanting you.”

He leaned toward me.

My heart started to hammer in earnest. I should have stepped back. I should have said no. But in the shelter of his wings, I did neither. Instead, I tipped my head up, wondering what it would feel like to finally kiss Oanen.

A blinding light made us both cringe. The honk of a nearby horn shattered the fragile moment and brought back a measure of sense.

“I’m serious, Oanen. Don’t.” With that, I ducked out from under the protective cover of his wings and raced for the car.

Eliana’s worried gaze greeted me as soon as I opened the door.

“Get in quick,” she said.

I did as she asked and slammed the door.

“Whoa,” she said with a sharp inhale.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to slam it. The rain’s cold though.”

“I didn’t mean the door. I think I just got a contact buzz.” She leaned forward and peered out the windshield into the rain a moment before a pair of wet jeans hit the glass.

“Interesting,” she said. “I guess he’s flying. Reach out and grab his pants then start explaining what happened.”

She didn’t pull away from the curb until the saturated pants were on the floor of the backseat.

“Well?” she prompted.

“I got a text from someone claiming to be my mom. She said to meet her out in the alley. When I got out there—”

“Not that. I don’t want to hear about another dead body popping up around you. Here’s your phone, by the way.” She grabbed it from the center console and handed it to me. “I want to know what just happened on the sidewalk back there. Oanen doesn’t fly in the rain. It’s dangerous. Especially when it’s gusting like this. What happened? Did he try to kiss you and you hit him?”

“How’d you get my phone?”

“Mr. Quill gave it to me. Now, what happened?”

I sighed and struggled not to recall the moment just before she’d pulled up or she’d know exactly what had almost happened.

“I didn’t hit Oanen. We were talking. Speaking of just talking, what was up with you kicking Ashlyn under the table?” I asked, neatly changing the subject.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, succubus. I will slap this hooker outfit on you and drop you off at the nearest high school dance.”

She rolled her eyes at me.

“We’re trapped in Uttira, remember?”

“Talk.”

“I can’t. I promised this was one topic I wouldn’t discuss with you. Please, Megan. I take my promises very seriously.”

“Who made you promise that?” I asked.

She hesitated then looked up toward the roof of the car, giving me my answer.

I sighed and lay my head back against the seat.

“Sorry for getting your car wet.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not mine. It’s Oanen’s.”

The ride home was quiet. When Eliana pulled into the driveway, she got as close to the back door as possible.

“Want me to stay?” she asked.

“Nah, it’s okay. I want a hot shower and an early bedtime. I’ll call you in the morning. Be careful out there.”

She gave me a sad smile.

“I don’t think I need to worry. I’m not human.”

I nodded and bailed, racing toward the house. As soon as I was inside, I flicked on the lights in the kitchen. Our chips still waited on the table. Opening the bag, I munched a few while I kicked off my stupid sandals.

“Shoulda known the night would end this way for a girl dressed like a hooker.” I smirked at my wit and padded upstairs for a change of clothes so I could shower.

A little over twenty minutes later, I lay snuggled under my quilt while listening to the rain pound down on the roof. Thoughts of Oanen and our almost kiss filled my head. Try as I might, I struggled to fall asleep.

I yawned and cracked an egg into the pan. Weak sunlight shone through the kitchen window. Mostly because of the clouds but partly because of the early hour. After a long night with little sleep due to noises I kept hearing around the house, I’d decided I had enough and got out of bed two hours before dawn.

My phone buzzed on the table. I shuffled over to it with another yawn and read the text notification.

Call me when you’re up. Worried about you.

I dialed Eliana’s number and wasn’t surprised when she picked up before the first ring.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Peachy. Tired as hell because the storm kept me up. It sounded like someone pacing on my roof.”

“Oh…that’s weird.”

“No, what’s weird is the way you just said that.”

She laughed.

“Want me to come over? We can spend the day watching our shows.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll be right there.” She hung up before I could say okay. Shaking my head, I set the phone down and went back to making a mess of my egg.

Eliana pulled into the driveway not long after I finished my last bite.

“That was fast,” I said when she walked in.

“I was ready, hoping you’d say yes. You do look like you didn’t get any sleep.”

“Yeah, I might doze off during the first episode.”

I didn’t just sleep through the first one; I slept through the first two.

While Eliana looked in my fridge for lunch, I showered and dressed. We spent the rest of the day talking and watching TV. When the sun went down, she asked to stay over. I readily agreed, liking her company more than the thought of another lonely weekend.

Even with Eliana there and the storms long gone, I woke twice to what sounded like someone pacing on my roof. Eliana dismissed the idea with a laugh when I told her about it the next morning.

“Are we late or something?” I asked when Eliana pulled around the side of the Academy on Monday morning. More cars than usual already crowded the parking lot.

“We’re not late, but something’s up. Oanen looks mad.”

He stood waiting near Eliana’s spot. A heavy scowl pulled at his features. Between that and his firmly crossed arms and braced stance, “mad” seemed a bit of an understatement. The sight of his current mood made my rushed breakfast churn queasily in my stomach. It was probably because I hadn’t seen him since I’d ducked out from under his wings on Friday, even though I’d thought about him plenty. We needed to talk, but now was definitely not the time.

His gaze locked with mine as Eliana pulled in between the two neighboring cars. He backed up a few steps, making room for her. Dark shadows smudged under his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping well. Because of Friday? Because of the almost kiss? Because I’d run? Crap. We really needed to talk. And, I definitely wanted to avoid that talk.

Before Eliana even cut the engine, he was moving toward my door.

“Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?” I whispered.

“Because you usually are,” Eliana answered with a snigger.

Anxiously, I opened the door and stood.

“Morning,” I said, forcing myself to meet his eyes.

“Good morning.”

I didn’t miss the way his gaze swept over my face then landed on my shoulder.

“It’s fine,” I said. “Well on its way to being healed.”

He nodded but didn’t step aside.

“Uh, everything okay?” I asked.

“No.” He stared down at me for another moment. “But it’s getting better.”

My stomach went into acrobatic overtime. Ignoring it, I leaned to peek around him at the group of people waiting by the door.

“What’s going on?”

His gaze flicked to Eliana, who listened from the other side of the car.

“Nothing much. Just rumors about Camil’s death.”

I rolled my eyes. “I bet. Are there any leads on who did it?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay. Then, maybe we should go inside?”

He nodded and finally stepped aside.

A group of boys and one girl stood near the door. They all looked like they’d had unfortunate run-ins with an ugly stick. The girl’s ugly stick must have been smeared with makeup. All of them watched me with a keen interest that gave me the willies. No anger, though.

One of the boys stepped forward as we neared. As soon as he did, the ugly boy morphed into a hideous large…troll? Ogre? I’d need to ask Eliana later. The no-longer-a-boy smiled at me, a show of jagged, broken yellowed teeth.

“Megan,” he rumbled. “We should meet up by the rocks some time.”

Before I could process his invitation, Oanen stepped in front of me. His wings exploded from his shirt, fanning out in a crazy huge display of feathers.

“Whatever you heard, you heard wrong. She’s not meeting you anywhere.” While Oanen delivered his warning, Eliana gripped my hand. I didn’t understand either of their reactions.

I shook off Eliana’s hold, poked Oanen in his bare side, and ducked under his wing.

“You seem to know me, but I don’t know you,” I said addressing the big man.

“I’m Epsid.”

“I’m curious. What did you hear about me, Epsid?”

“That you’ve killed twice and have gotten away with it both times. No evidence to point to you. We could use some tips. If you have time.”

Feeling more than a mild level of disgust, which had nothing to do with his looks, I considered the creature before me.

“Why do you want to know how to kill?”

“We know how to kill. We need to learn how to do it without leaving evidence.”

“Why?”

He frowned, looking confused.

“Because the humans can’t know we exist.”

“So you want to kill humans?”

“Of course.” He glanced back at the rest of his group then lowered his voice further. “Not the nice ones like Camil, though. I liked her.” The look he gave me was almost censoring. Almost, but not quite.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I haven’t killed anyone. Nice or not. Good luck at your rock meeting, though.”

Shaking my head, I turned and walked toward the door.

The troll-giant people weren’t the only ones waiting for me. The girls with green skin and leaves in their hair swore at me and flicked acorns my way. The mermaids at the pool slapped the water with their tails when I passed. Not sure if that was the equivalent of applause or boos, though.

It seemed the students of Girderon Academy were equally split in support or rejection of me. However, they remained unanimous in their belief that I’d actually killed two people.

By the time I reached Adira in the main lobby, I’d gained quite the following. However, she barely paid any attention to it as she focused on me.

“How are you this morning, Megan?”

“Pissed. Can you please set everyone straight?”

She glanced at the people behind me.

“They have the facts. A body was found at your house a week ago Saturday. You were found near another body this past Friday. Someone fed on both bodies but used two different methods.”

“And did I do it?”

“We have no leads at this time to indicate any suspects.”

“Why won’t you say I didn’t do it?”

“Perhaps we can discuss this further in my office.”

“Discuss what? I didn’t kill anyone.” She was starting to annoy me, and she seemed to know it too because one second, we stood in the hall and the next, we stood in her office.

“I understand that, but we would like to let the other students believe you have.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s better for everyone if those reasons are unknown for now.” She moved around her desk, sat, and opened my folder. “I understand that you tried hitting Trammer when he discovered you near Camil. Why were you angry with him?”

I rolled my eyes and sat with a sigh.

“I have no idea. I never have an idea. Why do you keep asking how I’m feeling?”

“Because it matters. This week, I need you to focus on the specifics of your emotions. When you get angry, try to determine why you might feel angry with that person. Before you confront them, come to me. Tell me who made you angry and anything you might have discovered about them or your anger.”

What point was there to doing any of that? It felt like a useless task designed to try to keep me out of trouble. Annoyed, I stared at Adira. She sat there so calm, her hand open and loosely set over my folder.

“What’s in that folder?”

“Your transcripts from the prior human schools you’ve attended, the student assessments you’ve completed online, and my notes on your progress.”

“Progress on what?”

Instead of answering, she smiled and stood.

“Remember what I said. Come to me when you feel angry. I want the names of the people who are upsetting you. And think more about why you wanted to attack Trammer. Your main task this week is to gain a better understanding of your anger.”

She picked up the folder and walked me to the door. One of the papers inside slipped as she moved, tipping just enough so I could read the hand-written note in the margin.

Current fourth generation.

Fourth generation what? Even as I shuffled out the door, my mind wouldn’t let go of that question.

I needed to know what was in that folder.