Flight (14 page)

“Where do we go from here?” I ask, snapping her out of her reverie.

“I need some time to think. Go about your duties like none of this ever happened, especially the last part. I’ll come to you when I have a better grasp on our next step,” she says. I nod in response and collect myself to venture back underground. “And Piper,” she calls before I leave. I look at her expectantly from the doorway. “If any of this leaks to Rupert, be sure that I will have you killed.”

Of course, said with the most sincere of voices.

I think I sleep for days, unwilling to get up and face the complications of my life. Finally the buzzing of my phone drags me from my bed. I check the ID. Rupert. Great.

“Pleasha, Pleasha,” I say as I flip my phone open. It’s one of our old inside jokes. I have no idea where it started but it seems appropriate and unsuspicious.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he responds. He pauses a moment inhaling his cigar, tapping the ashes out in a glass bowl. “You haven’t called me in awhile. I wanted to check in.” I roll over in my bed, shielding my eyes from the sun shining through the cracks of my window shades.

“I’ve been hibernating,” I reply. A loud boom sounds from the kitchen, and I hear Shelley grunt angrily at something. Rupert sighs deeply.

“I was expecting a report on the mission the other night,” he says. My heart stops. If what Myra said was true, then this mission was supposed to be a secret. But if Rupert knows about it, that means there has to be a mole in the team. I try to recover as quickly as possible.

“Nothing to report, really, it ended up being a basic scouting mission. I’m bored to tears out here, boss,” I say. He chuckles, his voice deep and raspy. My heart is fluttering as I await his reply.

“You just keep me updated if anything new springs up, got it?” he says finally. It’s not a request.

“All I’ve been doing is training and scouting, but if I notice anything different, I’ll let you know,” I reply. I hear some muffled coughing on his end, and then the line goes dead. I breathe a sigh of relief, and then I remember Shelley.

When I exit my room I see her in the kitchen, furiously shredding paper and crumbling it into balls. Tears are streaming down her face, causing black mascara lines to criss-cross over her cheeks.

“What happened?” I ask, immediately taking her by the shoulders and forcing her to sit down on a wobbly kitchen chair. She sobs and buries her face into me, taking shallow, rasping breaths.

“There was another girl,” she cries, and I pull her closer, rubbing my hand along her back. I let her weep until she emerges puffy-eyed and sniffling. She pulls a tissue out from the box on the kitchen table and wipes her nose liberally with it.

“So he told you this?” I question gently.

She shakes her head, no. “I saw them,” she replies, “I really thought this time would be good, you know? That I’d found some great guy who truly admired and respected me or something. All I do is attract assholes,” she mutters.

I take her hand in mine and squeeze it. Truthfully I’m not good with emotions, and the thought of someone in tears sends me running the other way, but the dejected look on my best friend’s face is hurting me as much as it hurts her.

“You know you’re amazing, right? You’re not going to find what you’re looking for right away, but it’ll happen. I promise you,” I say. To my relief she chuckles quietly.

“Oh god, I’m taking relationship advice from Piper Madden. I do need help,” she says.

I look at her pointedly. “I’m trying to be serious, here. You are talented, as all of the Hunters will proclaim wildly about your designs, you’re charming and sweet, and beautiful. You just have this idea in your head about love, that it’s supposed to be this big whirlwind fantasy, but it isn’t. There’s work involved, and time, and tears, and frustration. But you will find it,” I repeat. She rubs her lips together, the last of her tears fading though her face is still crunched in distress.

“Do you really believe that? I mean, deep down I think we all hope for some fantasy romance. How can it not exist?” she says.

“Maybe it does out there somewhere, I don’t know. I’m just saying that it’s not going to be this
love at first sight
thing. And you have pretty bad taste, if I’m being honest. Band members, rebels without causes, I mean, the list could go on,” I reply.

This time she laughs. “I guess that’s true. I need to start hanging out at the library or something, instead of the bar. Speaking of band members, I have something here for you from Asher,” she says. She rummages through her pockets until she finds a small envelope, sealed with my name on it. I take it from her hesitantly. Talk about poor taste. Shelley might like bad boys, but Harpies lie beyond the boundaries of normal. I almost laugh aloud. Do I like him, even now that I know what he is?

“Well, open it!” Shelley exclaims. I roll my eyes as I carefully tear the top of the envelope. My heart is beating wildly. I shield the folded paper as I pull it out, feigning shyness. It reads:

You know what I am, but I know what you are, too. Meet me. You know where. Come alone
.

Hastily I curl it into a ball and rip it to shreds. Shelley eyes me with suspicion, but my thoughts are anywhere but here. Meet him. How can I even talk to him without killing him? How could I kill him,
could
I even kill him?

“It was nothing,” I say finally, tossing the paper in the tiny waste basket beside the table.

“Oh, come on! You’re not going to tell me what it said?” she says incredulously.

I close my eyes and rub my temples. It’s all just so goddamned complicated.

 
“It was a sad, badly written poem about my
personal areas
,” I say finally. Shelley’s jaw drops, as would mine if I weren’t trying so badly to keep up this lie.

“I knew he was a bit of an asshole, but I wouldn’t have expected that,” she replies.

“He’s definitely a wildcard,” I say, “but enough about Asher. Are you okay? Did you talk to Craig about it?” I ask, changing the subject. To my surprise a wry grin sprouts on her face.

“I thought about confronting him right there, making a big fuss in public, but I didn’t. I just walked away, came home. I still don’t know how to feel about it, I can distract myself all I want but it’s still going to come back. God, I feel so stupid,” she says.

“Why?” I ask.

She looks at me, and the pain in her eyes has changed, warped into something deeper. “You’ve gone through more than I ever have, and here I sit, blubbing about some guy. That’s all he is, just some guy and a year from now I’m going to forget him, but you deal with this every day. How do you do it?” she asks.

She’s shocked me, and hot, unwelcome tears spring to my eyes. Shelley whimpers and rushes over to me as I slide down the wall to the floor. What can I say to this?

“Practice,” I reply eventually, though that doesn’t really explain anything. But we embrace, and we talk about David and love and life until there’s really nothing more to say. Eventually she drifts away to sleep, her head drooping onto my shoulder. I scoop her up and bring her to her bedroom, shutting the door softly behind me. It’s time, now, for me to face Asher, and to discover the truth.

The stars are just peering through the dark blanket of night when I march through the dead, outdoor streets. I wear a textured grey sweatshirt, covering most of my face with the hood. I feel the need to be inconspicuous though I know I’m alone out here. My breath freezes in the air, causing wisps to form around me and I stop to collect myself at the foot of the building. My heart is pounding and my palms are lined with sweat, but I know I need to keep moving. I sprint up the stairs, panting lightly when I reach the closed door with just a chink of light flowing from beneath it. I knock.

“You’re early,” calls out the voice from within. The clunk of his footsteps reaches closer and closer until the doorknob turns and opens.

I’m not quite sure what I’d been expecting. That he’d turned into a horrific monster, maybe, and the flat to a secret nest filled with the meat and bones of animals and small children, but everything is in the same place; actually the place looks a bit cleaner, as if he’d tidied up. Asher stands before me, his expression devilishly handsome, but there’s something else flashing beneath his bright blue eyes. It seems like confusion. How have I never noticed how weird his eyes are? Eyes aren’t supposed to be that bright.

“Are you alone?” he growls when he sees me, checking behind me to make sure for himself. I nod slowly, keeping my body as far from him as possible. “Then come in,” he finishes, stalking back inside, leaving me alone at the door.

I make my way in slowly, my eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. Asher stops a few feet in front of me, his back remaining faced to me.

“I’m going to show you something that no one besides you and my family have seen and lived to tell about,” he says, his voice echoing throughout the room. A faint beam of moonlight shines in through cracks in the wall, dust shimmering throughout it.

I stand stock still as he stretches out his arms, tilting his neck and cracking it for effect. He gives a great heave and his shirt begins to tear from his back.

This is just a sick, perverted dream
, I say to myself, and with his shirt gone, I can clearly see his skin crawling away to reveal two giant black wings protruding from his shoulder blades, tearing through the strange scar on his back. I gasp as they stretch out to full form, the blood from his back dripping from them. They nearly fill up the entire room, glistening in the scant light.

Asher shudders and the wings collapse and are pulled back inside him, his skin crawling around them, sealing up the holes. Within moments his back looks completely healed, all except for that snake-like scar. I wait as he turns around and looks at me, raising his eyebrows.

“So now you know my secret,” he says. In a flash he rushes toward me and pins me against the wall, his face buried in my neck like he’s breathing me in.

“But don’t forget, Hunter, I know yours, too,” he whispers into my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. Summoning all of my strength, I push him away, sending him flying backward until he hits the opposite wall, knocking over a few books and trinkets. He wipes away a speck of blood from the corner of his mouth, smiling.

“Impressive. I’d expect nothing less from the legendary Ace from Central,” he says dryly. I keep my stance defensive, ready to strike if he comes at me again, but he lets his body relax, shaking off the blood and sweat from his transformation.

“Have you known this entire time?” I demand. He merely shrugs.

“I’d heard about you, about the Madden siblings and their kill count. I knew there was a Hunter from Central coming so I did a little research. So yeah, I guess you could say I knew,” he replies. He strides toward the ratty sofa and stretches out on his stomach. I can see that he’s still in pain, but hiding it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from sounding timid or strained.

“Why would I?” he responds.

“Because we’re enemies? We’re destined to kill each other, and now…” I trail off. He looks at me, motions for me to sit down. I shake my head, ignoring my seizing fingers.

“Do we have to be enemies, Piper? Am I just a Harpy and you just a Hunter? Calm down, come over here,” he says.

Again tears run down my cheeks. “I can’t just ignore the fact that your people commit such atrocities against humans,” I whisper.

Hurt flashes his eyes. He stands up. “And what you do to my people is any different? Harpies feed from humans. Hunters kill Harpies. It’s a circle, one that I intend to break. You come here and you look at me and I know you can’t kill me, because now you know a Harpy. Now you know what it’s like to know me, but because of who I am you look at me with disgust,” he snaps.

“I’m confused, Asher! I don’t know what to feel. I used to think that Harpies were just mindless, rage-filled monsters, but now everything has changed. I can’t help but feel wrong about this. I can’t help how I feel,” I murmur.

“Neither can I,” he whispers.

I drop my arms in frustration.

“How can you be so calm about this?” I say. He closes in on me, so close I can feel his breath. I don’t move.

“Don’t tell me you don’t still feel it,” he says.

I inhale deeply. “I never said that. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Why does anything have to change? Nothing’s different. Nothing’s changed,” he says.

“I’ve changed,” I say.

“No you haven’t. You’re here, aren’t you?” he asks pointedly, gesturing my presence. I roll my eyes.

“Stop acting like you know me. You don’t know me, Asher, and clearly I don’t know you.”