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Authors: Lucy Swing

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal

Feathermore (9 page)

BOOK: Feathermore
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* * *

 

The knocking on the door pulled me out of the strange dream. As symbolic as it had been, it had seemed thoroughly real. And as for Lilith, she seemed so familiar. I kept searching through my mind and memories for just where I knew the woman from, but once again Claire pulled me back to real life. I sighed at the memory of the stranger and the way he had made me feel.


Jade?” Claire called from behind the door. “It’s time to start getting ready. Is there anything special you’d like for breakfast?”

Ooh, right. The funeral.
“No.”

I pulled the covers over my head. I needed it all to be over. I had to get through today, and then it would be done. Life as I knew it—gone.


We need to leave in an hour and a half, hon,” Claire said before I heard her walk away.

What had I ever done to deserve such an amazing friend as she, I had no clue, but I was infinitely thankful. I could not have dealt with everything that the tragedy brought. She had written and sent the invitations for the wake and funeral to Mom and Dad’s friends, colleagues, some far-flung family members we hadn’t talked to in a while, and some kids from school. She had also hired a caterer, hired some professionals to clean the house, and bought me a brand-new black dress. It was a lot for any teenager to pull off, but she did it.

I didn’t want to get up, especially when that meant saying good-bye to the two people who meant the world to me. I wished I could lie here forever and just let the darkness that danced around me engulf me and take me away. I could already feel it growing inside me, deep in my core. All the things that once made me happy, made me
human,
were distant memories. My life was now ripped apart.

I got up and stumbled to the small bathroom. I opened the sliding shower door and turned the water on. After playing with the handles for a bit, I got the temperature just right and slid out of my ill-smelling clothes. Once the water started to turn cold, I dried off and went to the duffel bag. Claire knew me well. All my favorite clothes were here. Eventually, a time would come when I would feel normal again. (Or would I?) I dug deep into the bag until I felt my worn-out black Converse high-tops and pulled them out. This, along with the dress, was my mourning attire, a front-row view into my inner depths. It had been five days since “the accident,” and the darkness grew each day with the numbing feeling that accompanied it.

I walked out to the kitchen, where the brightness of the outside world blinded me. I had cocooned myself in the darkness in Nate’s spare bedroom for long enough. Sitting down at the small table, I hid my face in my hands. Claire glanced my way and quickly handed me my black Ray-Ban Wayfarers. With my eyes still closed, I slid them on.


Thanks.” I mumbled under my breath.

I could now see Claire standing next to the stove, her back toward me. Her bright pink pajama top, which I once would have loved, made me want to vomit. It was just too bright, too happy, for my mood right now. Moving about with her usual grace, she worked on what smelled like pancakes. Nate’s kitchen was small but homey, with cherry cabinets and white marble countertops. A white microwave hung from the cabinet above the white stove they never used. I had been here only a few times and had yet to meet Nate’s parents. They were always off on a business trip or long vacation somewhere halfway around the world. I had always felt bad for Nate because he was always alone. Now I was just like him, except that my parents were never coming back.

Without turning again to look at me, Claire started her usual chatter, this time about what was happening at school. I hadn’t taken the time to realize that while I had been holing up in the guest bedroom, life kept rolling right along for everyone else.


Are you okay?” Her voice was soft and all too motherly. I lifted my gaze from my hands, where I had been picking at my chipped nail polish, to her face, and saw her expression of concern switch to one of
your parents just died; of course you’re not okay.
I dismissed the question with a faint nod. She mumbled something unintelligible and then walked over with a plate full of all my favorite things: pancakes, bacon, biscuits, and a tall glass of orange juice with three ice cubes. I was automatically reminded of my birthday morning, when Mom made us my special breakfast. Not wiping away the solitary tear that rolled down my cheek, I felt the cooling trace of its passage.


I’m sorry, Jade.” She sat down beside me and slid her arm over my shoulders, making our temples touch lightly. “Just know that I understand, and, well . . .” She was silent for a moment. “. . . I’ve been there myself. You don’t have to hold back around me, or even Nate. You know that, right?” She searched my face, though I doubt she could have seen much through the dark lenses. I nodded and closed my eyes, and the next stream of tears spilled down.

I tried not to let myself sink into the same old dark thoughts and even darker memories, instead wondering whom she had lost. She had never spoken of her parents or any other family member. Had she been given up for adoption? Had she, too, lost her parents in some horrible way? Then the dream came back, and I heard Lilith repeat,
“You will not be able to save her, just as you could not save your mate—Shemer, was it?”
Mate? And who the hell was Shemer?

Relax, Jade,
I told myself.
It was nothing but a stupid dream
.

Claire sat in silence with me while I ate. Although my stomach kept making rumbling noises, it didn’t allow much in. Nate called her from the bedroom to help him with his tie. I sank low in the chair and wished the day’s events were over already.

 

 

 

 

 

 

9 GOURD

 

 

-Lilith-

 

 

The killing was a provocation meant to produce another signal from her. If and when this dark-haired girl saw what was meant for her eyes to see, then I would know for certain what powers she possessed. The risk was great, but the need to know greater.

She had arrived alone. I noticed her parking the truck. If anyone else had come, it would have been easy enough to disappear unseen. I held my ground and woke the sleeping cat. The girl walked in, not noticing me at first, just as mortals often do, stupidly refusing to accept the presence of the inexplicable. When she finally met my eyes directly, her reaction was peculiar. She stood silently, confused at seeing a stranger in her house, but a smile began to form in the corners of her mouth. I loved when the smile suddenly melted into a mask of terror—though I must admit, it was a horrible expression to witness on a human face. She was overcome by shock as she struggled to understand the scene before her eyes. This caused a surge of pleasure in me, of course. I sent the cat forward, not to kill but to frighten. It was time to see if my suspicions were correct. As I had expected, she fled with an agility and power
unusual in a human
.

This simple chase had been enough to bring out the evidence I needed. Apparently, this girl, showing physical abilities far beyond the norm, had also shown that she was a
summoner
of animals. Some of the joy of the hunt faded when my beautiful panther was defeated, but I was still impressed by her show of power. It would be a wonderful thing to possess once I killed her.

The girl manifested her real nature. During the chase, I discovered more than I had expected. Her powers were not under her control, which was unusual. In her attempt to escape, her wings had begun to sprout. This is as dangerous for an angel on earth to do as it is for a human to get in a car with a stranger.

I had been running behind her the entire way toward the cliff, but she proved faster and more agile than I. Had she not stopped at the cliff's edge, I would never have caught up to her and seen what amazed me the most—and what has, since then, become my topmost priority in seeing again. Right where the wings were pressing hardest beneath her clothes, the shirt had begun to tear. And to my sheer amazement, the feathers that appeared were
white
.

Not only were there wings, but they were
white
! It
fairly staggered the mind. She was a pure angel on earth,
not
a fallen one. Moments before she fell over the cliff’s edge, I managed to reach out and pluck from her shoulder a single
divine feather
.

I looked over the precipice, hoping to see her broken body dashed on the stones near the river, but saw nothing. There was absolutely no trace of her. She was gone. Normally, this would have set me back severely, but I had in my possession her feather, a part of her divine being. This was the greatest tool I could hope to get my hands on, for I could extract from it the saved memories of her corporeal life. I was going to learn, after all, everything I needed to know.

Divinity distilled from pure white feathers is primal—not shared—knowledge, and the darkest, cruelest, most ancient entities consider it mere legend. Even where I come from, some things are too obscured by evil to be commonly understood. I am the only being to succeed in creating what is known to my kind as a demigourd.

The demigourd is a living vessel into whose being the influence and memories of an angel are infused or combined. A demigourd can be any living creature, though its level of intelligence determines how effective it will be in receiving and transmitting information. The closer and longer the contact between a celestial or dark being and that creature, the stronger the bond or connection between them, raising the demi-gourd’s status and ability.


Demon possession” occurs when a dark entity has been around a weakened mind long enough to begin exercising an influence on that creature. Higher-level demigourds are not only more intelligent, equaling even humans; they also have had a different, more intense contact with either a celestial or a dark being. This gives them near-angelic powers and immortality. When the fallen ones came to earth looking for humans to mate with, they never considered that those humans would eventually perish.

I placed the feather in a small bowl.

So far, demigourds produced by contact with whole, conscious celestial or dark beings have been exceedingly rare. Those humans who were able to escape became the witches, shamans, and mystic priests of all the old religions and myths.

A fragment or relic works much the same, though it is not easily to be found on earth, because an angel or demon would necessarily have to expose itself—which typically happens only during battle—by showing its wings, horns, or other nonhuman appendages. It is not every day that these things are shown in plain sight, and rarer still that a fragment can be found or taken.

I had managed to pluck a feather
directly
from Jade. I did not yet understand how a pure angel was living on earth, with the connection to heaven still intact. And why was such a powerful creature so poor in defending itself?

It was time to begin a new search, but I had at my disposal very good information. I was not blindly seeking some intuitive hint of an unknown entity. In fact, now I was not facing an enemy at all, but hunting prey beyond my wildest desires. Her wings were what I needed to take from her. Now I could better plan my next step. I have at my fingertips the most precious prize. I have in my grasp the chance to destroy a pure angel and create, for the first time in a millennium, an actual
gourd
.

 

 

 

 

 

 

10 DREAMS

 

 

There was no denying the overwhelming disappointment I felt upon waking. I was alive. The rustling of papers close by made me conscious that I was not alone. I tried to move, to get up, but it was impossible. My body ached all over. My eyes felt heavy. I opened them, and everything was a blurred mix of colors. My heart started beating faster. Why couldn’t I move? Where was I?
The rustling stopped, and I heard footsteps closing in on me. A dark shadow came to stand beside me.


Ah, you are awake. How are you feeling?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but it was dry, and a stabbing pain in the back of my throat made me wince. A faint breeze followed him as he moved away.


Here, drink this.” He slid his warm hand under the back of my neck and cautiously lifted me up. My body trembled at his touch. The cold rim of a glass found my lips, but I moved my head away. The “never take candy from strangers” rule surely applied here.


It’s okay. I won’t hurt you, Jade. I promise.”

How did he know my name?
I blinked a few times, trying to rid my eyes of the cloudy haze. The rim of the glass was again at my lips. This time I allowed the liquid in. It was bitter and warm, like nothing I had ever tasted before. Soon the burning subsided, and my sight cleared.

His face hovered over mine, only inches away, and I gasped. It couldn’t be. There was no way.

For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me, and I was surprised to find that part of me hoped he would. He smiled as he retreated into a far corner of the room.

I stared at him, wondering whether it was all a dream. Perhaps my wish had come true and I was dead. He could not be here, not in the
real
world.

BOOK: Feathermore
5.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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