Featherlight (9 page)

A plane that slightly resembled a helicopter came down and landed with
a soft thump. Four airplane-like engines whirred softly on each corner of the
machine, and it, like everything else, was dull silver.

“Jacque, honey, why don’t you come on down here? We can fly up to the
city and you can get some sleep,” Samantha tried to coax me out of the tree,
but I wasn’t falling for it. Then she said the magic words, “We have food for
you back at the Tower.”

She was right, I realized. It hadn’t been long since I’d eaten
(although my last good meal was back before those people swarmed my house), but
I suddenly felt ravenous.

Besides, what other choice did I have? I couldn’t sleep out here, and
I didn’t have any food or water. I reluctantly climbed down the same way I got
up, and then dropped the last few feet. Sam beamed, knocking a few years off
her age. John was staring somewhere behind me, and I realized my wings were
still fully spread out. They were so light I had just forgotten about them.
What muscle do I use? I moved my shoulder blades, then my shoulders. I
concentrated and looked behind me. It took a few seconds, but I eventually
found it. My wings slowly retreated to the resting spot on my back. They seemed
to shrink; they were so thin when stretched. Samantha looked pleased and John
was gazing at me with interest, but I avoided his eyes.

 Making my way to the plane, I slowly entered the ‘flyer’. John and
Marshal followed, and I wasn’t too comfortable having them at my back. The
driver was staring at me, but I was too tired to care. The seats were cushiony
and soft, so I dozed off on the brief ride back to the city. This aircraft
being smaller, we were able to land right by the Tower.

Upon exiting, Marshal gruffly handed me the trench coat I had
previously thrown off during my run from Peter. I put it on, mumbling thanks.

Samantha led me to the Tower’s large wooden doors, her wings folded
tightly to her back. Glancing up left me speechless. The Tower… well, to say
the least, it
towered.
Over everything. The biggest city I had ever been
to was Dallas, but the Tower was nothing like the skyscrapers in Texas. The
only things I could compare to this massive building were the twin towers
before 9-11. The pictures, I’m sure, didn’t do them justice. Similarly, my
feeble description doesn’t do the Tower justice. Things like that just weren’t
describable. They can’t simply be observed through pictures, and they can’t be
adequately explained. They have to be seen with your own eyes. They have to be
felt.
And, standing next to the largest building I’ve ever seen, I felt small.
Oddly enough, I also felt powerful and awed. Still dazed, I followed Samantha
through the imposing doors.

“Eyes down,” she whispered.

I made an attempt, but my architecturally-sheltered brain wouldn’t
cooperate. My eyes begged me to let them absorb the inside of what could be
considered a dream-building.

We were in a huge, open room that coupled as a living area and dining
hall, to say the least. Three walls with windows and balconies supported the
endless, painted, renaissance-style ceiling.  The last wall was made entirely
of glass. Although obviously entering on the ground floor, a small pond flowed on
the floor below us, visible over the balcony on which we were standing.
The pool rushed and trickled with living water, and
small plants circled its perimeter. Sunlight made the water sparkle and shine
as it gently trickled. The sound was so terribly calming.

Something not so calming, I briefly and uneasily noticed,
was that the balcony didn’t
have
a railing that prevented someone from falling.

Glancing up, I saw the interminable blue sky and green ground stretch
out endlessly. One sun was visible through the glass, and its light bathed the
room in a yellow summer morning glow. For the first time since my arrival, I
felt home. Looking at what I assumed was the dining hall, I spied the most
amazing thing of all.

A plate of food sat on a long table, and everything else faded away.

I didn’t even continue looking around the place; I made a bee line for
the food. Someone may have followed me in there, but I couldn’t be sure. I sat
down, and a beautiful bowl of soup appeared in front of me. I could barely
taste it as I shoveled the wonderful liquid in my mouth. It might not have been
the smartest move, since I didn’t even know where it came from, but I didn’t
care. It was so good.

I started inhaling a plate full of odd-looking pieces of meat. I
didn’t think twice before shoveling some into my mouth. About half-way through,
I slowed down long enough to breathe. My ears picked up a small conversation on
the edge of the room. Continuing to casually eat, I listened intently, thankful
for my improved hearing. Marshal must have pulled Sam to the side while I was
distracted.

He was whispering, “You saw what could happen to her! Besides, he has
control.”

Samantha whispered back, “Just barely! You want him to, and you’re
forcing them together so that he will-”

“Hush! You will not interfere. That is final.”

Their conversation apparently over, I looked around the room. A woman
was standing off to the side, staring. Apparently she was the one who had put
the food in front of me.

My gaze was then drawn to John, who was leaning against the wall in
the corner, watching me with amusement. His golden wings were barely visible
from the front. I could smell him from where I was sitting, oddly enough. He
smelled of woods, dark and deep. He smelled like
man.

Whoa! Why did I think that? I didn’t even really know what a man
smelled like, so how did I know that smell belonged to him? It was just the
food I smelled, right?

I started to feel embarrassed but mentally slapped myself. Why would I
care what John thought? He may be handsome and scary and strong and- No. I was
not going there. I was
not
like the love-struck giggling girls at my
school.

There were more important things I had to think about. Not men. I
resumed eating, to show I was unfazed with him. When I had finished polishing
off the deliciously exotic fruits, John nodded his head towards the doorway
leading to the main entrance. I warily followed, wondering why Sam and Marshal
had been talking. Marshal wanted John to do something, that much was clear, but
what? And what had made me run like that? Why was I so special? Unfortunately,
while my stomach was satisfied, my mind was not.

John and I climbed the beautiful grand staircase at the end of the
room, but I was too tired to appreciate the architecture. By the time he stopped
on the fourth floor, I was ready to collapse. He led me to the third door on
the right (The hallway continued, containing at least 30 more rooms), and he opened
the carved wooden door.

I peeked under his arm to get a glimpse, still avoiding eye contact.
The room’s theme was red, which was a relief after all the silver, gray, and
white. Red couches and breathtaking red and golden curtains gave the room a
classy feel. I glimpsed an abundant bed with a deep red bedspread. It was full
of pillows, and the bed looked like a fluffy cloud. I had never had anything
like this at home! My room on Earth was tiny, and my bedspread contained
several holes and patches.

After I finished gazing into the room,
my
room, the pieces all
clicked together. The look John was giving me. His father’s words earlier. The
huge bed. Him being here. He smelled so good, standing so close. I wanted to
reach out to him, but most of all, I wanted to lock eyes. Some deeply buried
primal instinct exploded outwards, and I felt light and powerful.

My new body took control, and I slowly, defiantly, raised my gaze to
his. A challenge. I wanted it, needed it. His eyes slowly began darkening. I
tensed to flee. He shook. At the last second, my mind snatched the reins back.
I was a walking contradiction.

Memories flooded my mind.
Shhh, it won’t hurt. You’re helpless,
anyways. Hush.

As quickly as I could manage, I shied away until my back slammed
against the far wall. Fear pumped through me as a result of the memories. I
could not lose control. I couldn’t let instincts run me. How was I so
conflicted? I started retreating down the hallway, ready to run should he give
any indication that he would grab for me. He didn’t.

“No! Don’t run, don’t run.” Confusion crossed his features, then
understanding, and then finally, amusement.

“No, no, no.” He told me as I was still backing away, “This is your
room. My room is down there.” He pointed farther down the hall and then held
his hands out like he didn’t want to startle a wild animal. I was probably
quite close to being one by now.

John then shut his eyes and tried to calm the shaking. My body knew
what was happening, but my mind was clueless.
Run!
My instincts screamed
at me.

I felt a breath of air from behind me and became instantly alert. John
stiffened and glanced over my shoulder. I froze, unsure of what to do. New Me
informed me that another man was behind my back.

Anger showed plain on John’s face as he said, “Leave. Nothing is
happening.”

“Just giving you a quick reminder. We both know who would win.” It was
Peter’s voice. Still I didn’t turn around, not forgetting the unwilling feeling
to flee when I looked into his eyes. I suddenly grew angry at my own cowardice.

John replied, “Oh, we do?”

“Leave me alone, bastard,” I summoned my big girl voice and was proud
to feel, after another breath of air, Peter vanish.

The air was chilly, and I calmed down while staring at the creamy
white walls. John walked over to the window that Peter had entered through and
closed it, banishing the chill.

He walked back to me and said, “Goodnight, Jacque. And sorry about
earlier. You just kind of overload my senses. Instincts are hard to ignore
sometimes.”

He gave a slight smile, never once mentioning Peter’s odd visit. I
still wouldn’t meet his eyes, afraid of what would happen. John then turned
around and retreated down the hallway until apparently reaching his door. He
turned the knob with one hand and ran the other through his hair, making it
stick up funny. Before he went inside, he turned around and watched me, waiting
until I was safely in my room. I found myself almost amused as I turned and
locked the door.

I went straight to the bed and fell on it. My last thought for the day
was that I was right; it did feel like a fluffy cloud.

||||

John shut the door behind him and leaned against it. This girl was
going to be his undoing, but he knew that he had to be patient. He could smell
her anger and fear at Peter, and John burned at the thought of her feeling the
same way about him. Even now he fought the need to go and chase her, securing
her to him for the rest of their days.

For the first time in his life, he actually cared about what a girl
thought. She wasn’t just any girl, though. This was the woman that was clever
enough, fast enough, and unique enough to catch John Marshal’s eye. He would be
a patient hunter. Oh yes, she would most definitely be his, eventually.

Part X

I woke up to the sun streaming in from the windows in the living area.
My first thought was that I had such a wonderfully strange dream. My second
thought of the day was that the dream was no dream. I touched my head in order
to reassure myself, and my fingers felt angel-soft hair. It was longer than
yesterday, so somehow it had grown a few inches overnight.

After pulling myself to a sitting position, my muscles screamed at me.
It felt like I had fallen from a cliff and then climbed an 80 foot tree. Oh wait
.
I
did.
Ha! I drug my sore body out of the fluffy cloud bed and
stretched.
It felt odd to
sleep on my wings, but doing so didn't hurt.

My body still wasn’t used to the weak gravity, so it took a few steps
of stumbling before gaining some balance. Taking a slight leap into the air
confirmed two things. I could jump twice as high as I could on earth and my
muscles continued to burn and ache… which just solidified the fact that I most
probably was not dreaming.

My current outfit had been ripped, soiled from my tree climb, and
wrinkled from sleep. In search of clean clothes, I opened the drawers. My heart
jumped slightly when I found them full of clothing, and I couldn’t help my joy
at the discovery that all the clothes were my size. I felt guilty and betrayed
by my easily pleased heart. Some part of me still wanted to mope and scream and
fight these kidnappers. The other part wanted to be thankful that my leukemia
was cured and to move on with my life. Ignoring my internal confusion, I
snagged another sexy jumpsuit. Same color, different style.

Readying myself for the day ahead, I walked into the large living
room.
My
living room. It was equipped with two couches, a wooden table,
a mirror, two windows that were facing a sun, and a squishy deep golden carpet
that matched the red couches perfectly. The sun in the window was in the same
spot as it was yesterday.
Amazing
. It split the sky with defiant
streaks, turning the sky a light yellow that eventually changed to a blue.