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Her heart jerked erratically, her nipples pebbling like wanton soldiers beneath her body suit. She’d thought speaking of losing his people had sent him to the edge, but it’d been losing her that had triggered his darkest emotions.
If she’d doubted his feelings for her before then she didn’t doubt them now. She was all but panting when she responded. “Then don’t leave me behind. We need to watch each other’s backs if we want to survive.”
His nostrils flared, but then he stepped back, nodded reluctantly and said, “Then we’d best leave now under the cover of darkness.”
It only occurred to her then about the tear in his wing. “You’ve been injured,” she reminded. “Can you still glide?”
“It’s not fully healed, but it will be enough to achieve what we need to do.”
“What exactly do you mean by not fully healed?”
“I mean our wings are vital to our existence, and therefore they heal quickly. A thin membrane has already patched my wing together while the rest of the flesh begins to knit around it.”
She frowned. “If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Bongo was asleep in his bed when she followed Gray out onto the balcony. He turned and lifted her against his chest, then climbed onto the balcony railing with his wings outspread behind him. Her mouth dried at the drop beneath, then he jumped high, and she closed her eyes as her stomach fell.
Seconds later she opened her eyes, her pulse evening out as she watched the ground stay far below while Gray glided through the air like an eagle up high.
She wouldn’t think about his thin membrane tearing and the both of them plummeting to their deaths. Instead she enjoyed the dramatic views beneath as they soared through the sky, the lights below twinkling like the stars above.
She pointed to the bright light falling through the heavens. “A falling star!” she said dazedly. “Quick, make a wish.”
He chuckled. “You believe in that human superstition?”
“I have to believe in something,” she said, “otherwise, what is life all about?”
His grasp tightened suddenly, his strong reaction again solidifying her acceptance that he really did care about her. “If you believe in nothing else, then believe in me and my love for you,” he said hoarsely.
She didn’t reply. This conversation was too much, too heavy, too intense. But then nothing about her life lately had been light.
He glided around the base of the mountain, where farmland was interspersed with outer suburban townhouses, the river now far away.
All too soon Gray put his wings up and back, slowing down their velocity while sending them dramatically lower. She saw the yard he’d mentioned just seconds before his brought his legs up and landed heavily in the overlong grass. She waiting for him to drop and roll, but this time he stayed upright, his arms protecting her, though she felt the jolt all the way through his body.
He lowered her carefully to her feet and she went into combatant mode, slinking low to the ground and listening carefully. But there were no sounds, nothing at all to set off any internal alarms that their entry had been noticed.
Gray nodded to a solitary water gun lying on its side near the far off fence with its sagging palings. She headed that way while Gray moved toward two others that lay on the weed-infested ground with its scattering of toys and too many other unattractive objects of junk.
A trampoline with a ripped mat, which reminded her of the fragile state of Gray’s wing. An old rusted sedan with its driver’s door left open. A couple of white plastic chairs, one tipped on its side. A washing line with some limp clothes pegged in place, which had probably been hanging there for days. Then there were the dolls and toy cars, mixed with cigarette stubs that littered the ground.
She shuddered at the general state of chaos. The people living here didn’t appear to care about...anything. Hopefully that meant a couple of intruders in their backyard would be more likely to go unnoticed.
She bent to retrieve the water gun when a low, vicious growl vibrated the still air. She straightened slowly, the water gun in her hand and her heart a dull throb in her ears as a big, black dog slunk toward her from out of a patio cluttered with debris and furniture, its bristles up on its neck and its white teeth showing all too clearly.
The dog had probably been there all along, its coloring hiding it as effectively as Gray’s black T-shirt and her black bodysuit had hidden them.
“Don’t move,” Gray said in an undertone.
She didn’t answer, she was too busy trying to work out the best solution to their problem. They were in the dog’s territory now. She didn’t blame it for wanting to attack, to defend its owners and the children it probably adored.
The dog stiffened, then yelped suddenly at the spray of water that Gray had released from the water gun. She blinked. The dog clearly hated getting wet. She shook her water gun. Empty, damn it!
“Run!” Gray commanded in a low, urgent voice.
She didn’t wait around. Not when the dog swung its head to Gray then back to her again. If she ran it would be distracted, giving Gray a chance to escape. She took off in a sprint, hoping against hope her human legs would be strong enough for her to jump and clear the fence.
