“No.” He headed for the door, but stopped with his hand on
the handle. He’d just remembered he was nude and didn’t want to stride through
Castle Archangel with his dick hanging out. “Shit.” He banged his head on the
old wood. What is wrong with me? I always wanted wings. And a mate. Why do I
feel so fucked up? He turned around and leaned back against the door. It
made his feathers bunch up uncomfortably.
Zeke watched him. Something in his face
told Nathaniel he was sad.
“Don’t go.”
“Fuck,” Nathaniel said. He clenched
his fists. “Fuck.”
Zeke didn’t move. His wings looked
like great, grey stone behind him. He was like one of those old, stone angels
the humans carved to signify a vengeful god. He was gorgeous. And he’s
yours, Nathaniel thought, possession rearing up inside him abruptly. He
strode over and clasped Zeke’s face between his hands, then bent down for a
gentle kiss. “What the hell are we doing?” he asked, confused as hell.
Zeke kissed him back. “God works in
mysterious ways.”
Nathaniel pulled back, then began
to chuckle unwillingly. “Jesus.” His wings moved and he stilled them, still
trying to work out the muscles. “I have no idea how to put these away.” He
frowned. “Or even if I should.” He looked at Zeke. At least the sadness on his
face seemed to have dissipated. “What if they don’t come back?”
Zeke shook his head. “God wouldn’t
give you this and then take it away.”
Nathaniel swallowed. “Yes, he
would.” He thought of his mother, dying from breast cancer. He thought of Zeke’s
family, fading into the mist.
Zeke’s eyes told him he knew what
Nathaniel was thinking. “Shit happens, too. That’s how life works. How free
will works.”
Nathaniel squared his shoulders. “Okay,”
he said, then he concentrated. He pulled on something intangible inside his
chest, like a string he’d never known was there. His wings ached for a moment,
and then they folded into his body like they’d never existed. He stood still
for a moment, then rolled his shoulders, heart pounding. He hoped to God that
he could shift back. He wanted to fly.
“See? Your legacy marks remain,”
Zeke said in a rough voice, standing and tracing a finger down his arm.
Nathaniel nodded, then grasped Zeke’s
hand, tight. “I’m sorry.” He still felt unsettled. Strange. He didn’t know how
to act.
Zeke shrugged. “I have my own demons
to face,” he said, sighing. “I still can’t quite believe what I did with you.”
“You never felt any attraction to a
man before?” Nathaniel had to ask, no matter how much he didn’t want to hear
the answer.
“No. But there weren’t many women,
either. I just didn’t have time for sex. I was busy trying to learn how to make
weapons.” He laughed bitterly. “Weapons that shattered.” He sighed. “Was my single-minded
blindness to blame for my weakness?”
Nathaniel didn’t know. “How could
it? One has nothing to do with the other. And you’re not weak. Not even close.”
“Ha, little do you know, Nathaniel.
Your wing color is the same as mine,” Zeke said, something strange in his voice.
He looked over to the darkened hearth in the next room. “Come with me.” He
tugged on Nathaniel’s arm. “Come and let’s see what God is trying to teach us
both.”
Chapter Five
Zeke pulled Nathaniel into the
workshop. As he walked, he shifted back to human. He didn’t care that they were
naked. He didn’t care that Nathaniel had no idea what he intended. All he knew
was that something inside him told him that now was the time to create a
weapon. Their weapons. He flicked on the induction heater and grabbed the two
slim blanks he’d prepared earlier that day. He’d taken the last sword he’d
tried to make, the one he’d brought to the castle, and deconstructed it,
forming the thin pieces of metal. He hadn’t expected to be forging a personal
weapon with it, but now he was glad he’d had the urge to make
Tim Dorsey
Sheri Whitefeather
Sarra Cannon
Chad Leito
Michael Fowler
Ann Vremont
James Carlson
Judith Gould
Tom Holt
Anthony de Sa