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I open my eyes.
Silt and grit sting. I squint and make out the faint outline of the truck ahead. I bring my arms up in front of me and kick off the river bottom, taking a slow, lunging leap toward the truck.
The front left side is smashed from its impact with the boulder near the river’s edge. There’s a metallic groan up the driver’s side of the vehicle, starting at the fender, going across the door and to the rear of the truck. It could be from the boulder as well, though—
it’s from whoever ran him off the road
—I can’t be sure. The red of the truck is like a bright beacon that calls to me. I take another lunging step. Do I need air? I can’t remember the last time I took a breath. I can’t remember how long I’ve been hiding in the river. It doesn’t matter. I feel okay. I don’t feel like I’m dying. I’m not drowning. I’m fine.
I’m fine until I see the driver’s window is broken. I’m fine until a flash of white floats out of it. I’m fine until I realize it’s an arm. I’m fine until I see it’s an arm and it—
is my dad oh god that is my father
—floats up and down gently, the fingers extending in the current like it’s waving me over, beckoning me to the truck. The skin is white, so white, much whiter than my father ever was. It’s—
dead he’s dead it’s all dead
—enough to make me open my
mouth. I inhale to scream, but river water pours in and I begin to choke. I kick for the surface, but it’s too late. I’m stuck under the surface, stuck in the mud and silt and current, and I can’t move. I can’t breathe, and I am drowning in this river and I—
A strong arm wraps around my chest and pulls me away. I awake as the bed shifts, pulling me from the dream. It’s still dark, far too soon for us to head to the roof to watch the sunrise. He is moving quietly, as if to avoid waking me. He pulls on his jeans over his naked form, his skin illuminated by dim blue flashes that begin to swirl around him. A chill strikes me that has nothing to do with the sudden loss of warmth next to me.
“Where are you going?” I ask, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. He stiffens for a moment, then turns to me, the top button of his jeans still undone, the auburn fur on his stomach disappearing into the denim. He reaches down and grabs me by the back of the neck, pulling me up to kiss me deeply. I wrap my arms around him, trying to pull him back down into the bed, to cover us both deep under the comforter where we can hide until sunrise.
But he won’t come, he won’t follow me down. He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against mine. “A thread calls,” he says roughly. “I must find it.”
“You’re going to come back?” I ask, hating the way I sound, unsure and weak.
Calliel smiles at me so brightly I have to kiss him again. “Yes,” he says. “I will come back. And then we can watch the sun come up, and I will have some green marshmallows while you tell me I should eat other things because the marshmallows aren’t good for me.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” The blue lights began to flash brighter, and I can see the faint outline of wings. “They come easier now,” he tells me. “I think I might be able to call them without seeing threads first.”
I’m relieved, because I can tell myself it means he isn’t getting weaker, like the Strange Men said. Wings mean strength. Wings mean health. Wings mean vitality. He is an angel. He is not weakening.
He slides his shirt over his head and gives me one last look before he is out the bedroom and down the hall, then the door closes on Little House with a thud.
I consider following him, but I don’t. I try to sleep again, but I can’t. I’m still awake when he returns deep in the night. The hunger he comes at me with then is something wicked and bright. I don’t ask him where he went, if he has saved anyone or merely been a presence for someone who needed him. It doesn’t matter. He has returned and he wants me. That desire is evident on his face. It’s enough.
Cal’s return spreads quickly through Roseland. The first day is relatively quiet,
given that I’m not at the store. We walk up to Big House early that morning, shortly after coming down off the roof. Cal wraps an arm around my shoulder as we walk, and I relish the feel of him against me. He is chattering away, telling me about a squirrel he saw in the forest during his self-imposed exile. It seemed to follow him over the course of the five days. He is clearly excited about the animal, and I can’t help but grin at him as he imitates the sound it made, a high-pitched squeak that he performs by sucking in his cheeks and sticking out his lips. It’s not a sound a big guy like him should be able to make.
We are barely on the porch of Big House when the door flies open and Nina barrels out, knocking me out of the way in her rush to tackle Cal. He laughs as he picks her up, spinning her in a circle, her legs kicking out as they whirl. Under his laughter, I can hear her saying, “Blue, Blue, Blue,” over and over again. He finally sets her down, brushing the tears from her face.
“I am happy to see you, little one,” he says with a smile. She smiles sweetly for a moment… then punches him in the arm. Nina is a lot stronger than she looks, and I wince at the meaty thud. Cal grunts, though I think more from surprise than pain. He stares down at her, eyes wide. “What was that for?”
“Leaving,” she says with a scowl. “You going to do that again?” A low blush rises up the sides of his neck and into his cheeks, reddening the skin and making his facial hair appear even brighter. “No.”
She watches him for a moment, trying to figure out if he is telling her the truth. She finally sniffs once and looks him up and down. “Good,” she says. “People missed you here, Benji especially. I was sad. We were all sad. If you do that again, I am going to be very angry with you. This is your home now, you know. You can’t just leave your home.”
It’s my turn to flush. I’ve never really thought about that. About where this is going, what he and I could mean to each other in the future. Would he stay? Could he stay? The Strange Men whisper in my head, saying it isn’t possible, that he is getting weaker. I shove them away when he glances at me with a low smile before looking back at my little aunt. “I promise I won’t do it again,” he says with complete seriousness.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” she asks with curiosity.
He hesitates for a moment. “I think so, though not in the way I thought.”
