Эприлинн Пайк: Wings

“Special?” Laurel scoffed. “Is that what you call it?”

“Yes,” David insisted. “That’s what I call it.” He paused and reached for her hand, turning it over and covering it with both of his. He watched her in silence for a while, then lifted a hand to her cheek and drew her a little closer. She didn’t resist as his lips brushed hers, soft as the kiss of a light wind. He pulled back and looked at her.

She didn’t speak; she didn’t lean in. If he was going to get involved in everything her life had turned into, it had to be his choice. She knew what she wanted, but it wasn’t just about her anymore.

After a slight hesitation, David held her closer against his chest and kissed her again, longer this time. Laurel almost sighed in relief as her arms twined around his waist. His lips were soft, warm, and gentle — just like David.

When their kiss ended, he stood in front of her with her hands in his. Neither spoke. Nothing needed to be said. Laurel smiled and let her finger trail down the side of his face, then slipped off the trunk of the car.

David eased into the driver’s seat, his eyes still on Laurel. She waved as she watched his car back out of the parking spot and roll quietly down the street, back onto the 101, headed to normal life again.

“ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T WANT ME TO COME WITH you?” Laurel’s mom asked as she pulled onto the long, bumpy driveway.

“They may not come out if you do,” Laurel said. “I’ll be safe.” She smiled at the dense trees. “I don’t think there’s anywhere on earth I would be safer.” She had spent the last three days convincing her parents she was a faerie and most of this morning assuring them that it was in their best interest to accept the faeries’ proposition. And even though her parents were skeptical, their objections to the arrangement seemed insignificant compared to the fact that the faeries had saved her dad’s life. That and the initial appraisal of the rough diamond, which had an estimated value of just under eight hundred thousand dollars.

Laurel leaned over and hugged her mother. “You are coming back, aren’t you?” her mom asked.

Remembering how David had asked the same question, Laurel smiled. “Yes, Mom, I’m coming back.”

She stepped out of the car into the cold, crisp air. The sky was murky with dense gray clouds that threatened rain, but Laurel refused to see that as an omen. “It’s just the winter air,” she muttered under her breath. Still, she clasped the bag containing the soft moccasins to her chest as if it could protect her from the bad news that might lie waiting for her within the forest.

It couldn’t be bad news, though. It couldn’t! She stepped into the shadow of the woods and walked down the path toward the river. She knew she must be surrounded by faerie sentries, but she didn’t dare call out — she wasn’t entirely sure she could find the voice to, even if she dug up the will.

When she reached the rushing stream, she laid the bag on the rock she’d been sitting on the first time she met Tamani. She sat on it again now, waiting. Just waiting.

“Hello, Laurel.”

She’d know that voice anywhere; it had haunted her dreams for the last four days. No, that wasn’t true. For the last two months. She turned and threw herself into Tamani’s arms, waves of relief rushing over her as tears wet his shirt.

“I should get shot more often,” he said, his arms tight around her.

“Don’t ever get shot again,” Laurel ordered, her cheek glued to Tamani’s chest. His shirts were always so soft. Right now, she never wanted to lift her face from the smooth fabric. His hands were in her hair, stroking her shoulder, brushing a tear from her temple — everywhere at once. All the while, a soft murmuring of words she didn’t understand flowed from his mouth, comforting her as effectively as any spell could have. It didn’t matter to her that Tamani only had weak magic — he was magic.

When she finally let him go, she laughed and wiped her tears away. “I’m happy to see you, I really am. Are you okay? It’s only been four days.”

Tamani shrugged. “I’m a little sore, and technically I’m here for recuperation, not on duty. But I knew you’d come. And I wanted to be here when you did.” He leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I–I—I brought these back,” Laurel stuttered, holding up the bag with the moccasins. His closeness always made her shiver.

Tamani shook his head. “I made them for you.”

“Something else to remember you by?” Laurel asked, touching the tiny ring around her neck.

“You can never have too many reminders.” Tamani’s eyes circled the small clearing. He cleared his throat. “First things first, I’ve been assigned to ask you how our proposal was received.”

“Quite well,” Laurel responded in the same mock-formal tone. “The papers will be drawn up as soon as possible.” She rolled her eyes. “I think they’re going to make it my Christmas present.”

Tamani laughed, then pulled her a little closer. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “The trees have eyes.”

“I don’t think it’s the trees,” Laurel said sardonically.

Tamani chuckled. “Maybe not. This way.”

He took her hand as he led her down a path that snaked back and forth but never seemed to really go anywhere.

“Is your father okay?” Tamani asked, squeezing her hand.

Laurel smiled. “They’re releasing him this afternoon. He intends to be back at work bright and early tomorrow morning.” She sobered. “That’s why I’m here. We’re all going to Crescent City in a few hours. I—” She looked down at her feet. “I don’t know when I’ll be coming back.”

Tamani turned and looked at her, his eyes a deep well of something she couldn’t quite place. “Did you come here to say good-bye?”

It sounded so harsh when he said it. She nodded. “For now.”

Tamani shifted dead leaves on the ground with his bare foot. “What does that mean? You’re choosing David over me?”

She hadn’t come here to talk about David. “I wish it could be different, Tamani. But I can’t live in your world right now. I have to live in mine. What am I supposed to do, ask my mom or David to drive me down here once in a while so I can see my boyfriend?”

Tamani turned and walked a few more steps, but Laurel followed him.

“Should I write you letters or call you on the phone? I don’t have an option here.”

“You could stay,” he said, his voice so quiet she barely heard him.

“Stay?”

“You could live here…with me.” He continued on before she could speak. “You’re going to own the land soon. And there’s a house. You could stay!”

Glorious thoughts of life with Tamani spun through Laurel’s head, but she forced them aside. “No, Tam. I can’t.”

“You lived here before. And things were good.”

“Good? How were things good? I was being constantly watched and you guys were feeding my parents memory elixirs like they were water!”

Tamani focused on the ground. “You figured that out?”

“It was the only logical explanation.”

“I didn’t like it either, if that helps.”

She took a deep breath. “Did they…did they ever make me forget? After I got here, I mean.”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Sometimes.”

“Did you ever do it?” she asked tentatively.

He looked at her with wide eyes, then shook his head. “I couldn’t.” He leaned closer, his voice so low she could barely hear. “I should have, once. But I couldn’t do it.”

“What happened?”

He scratched at his neck. “I hate that you don’t remember.”