A Shadow of Wings (28 page)

Tash stood. “What do you know of this? Tell me everything.”

Dylan stepped back, hit the wall. He was more afraid of Tash than he’d been of the two monks combined. “When I met him, he was a guy. You know?”

Approaching slowly, Tash nodded. “Yes, I know. What of it?”

“We…got to be friends.”

He saw the exact moment that understanding entered Tash’s mind. His face went slack, then thunderous. He rushed Dylan again, crashing him into the bricks. “You slept with him? He slept with you? You
fooking
idiots!”

He had the same Irishy accent, only it didn’t sound so pretty bellowed at him. Cam’s low growl saved the back of Dylan’s head from becoming pulp against the wall. Tash threw him aside. “It’s impossible!”

“It’s not. Right?” Dylan staggered back, rubbing his skull. “Arum told me about the knight and the last cockatrice. He said Cam was destined, and that the egg was something special. Him and Liam were gonna steal it and…I don’t know, he had some crazy plan to take over the church.”

“Impossible.” Tash shoved his fingers into his hair. He turned back to Cam, knelt, and again felt Cam’s belly. “How far along is he?”

Cam burbled, and Dylan said, “Can’t you understand him?”

“No, I can’t understand him, you moron. He has no language in this form.” He probed some more, his expression grim. “I’m not some fucking Dr. Doolittle.”

Dylan inched forward. Cam looked terrible. Like, terrible even for a monster. “You can help him, though. Right?”

“I don’t know.” He sat back and dragged his hand down his face, then addressed Dylan. “I’m going to kill you for this.”

Somehow, though, Dylan thought he meant it a little less than the brothers had. He came to kneel beside Cam’s head and pulled it into his lap. Cam eyes were closed, but whether that was to protect Dylan or because he lacked the strength to open them, he couldn’t tell. “He’s not gonna die, is he?”

“I don’t know,” Tash said again. “I don’t fucking know anything. This is beyond my ken. We need the brothers.”

“No! They tried to kill him.”

“There are other brothers.”

“Those are the ones Arum was trying to save the egg from. He said they were opposed. He made it sound like him and Liam were the only chance to save it.”

“And you killed them.” Tash swiped his hand through the air. “Was that your grand design?”

“He was gonna cut him open!” Dylan shouted. “Look!” He pointed to the briefcase full of butcher knives. “Murder him and steal the egg.” Tears choked him. Fuck, he hadn’t cried since that night he’d been thrown out by his parents. He slapped them away with the back of his hand. “I wasn’t gonna just let him die.”

Tash regarded him in silence a moment, seemed to take in his bruises and bloody face. “Even now? Even knowing what he is. You risked your own life to save him.”

“Yeah, of course I did.” He sniffed and focused on his fingers combing over Cam’s soft feathers. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was Cam’s dark hair beneath his touch. 

Another moment passed. “What are you called?” Task asked quietly.

“Dylan.”

The other cockatrice held out his hand, and, slightly stunned, Dylan shook it. “I’m Tash. But you knew that. You probably know more than you should about everything.” His mouth tightened with disapproval. “Nevertheless, Cam needs an ally if he’s going to survive this. And so do I.”

“What are we going to do?”

Tash lifted his hands, then let his knuckles fold on his thighs. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“Well… What do you…sort of people normally do when you have to lay an egg?”

“We go to the basilica. It’s a building with a large underground chamber, where we can breed and lay in peace. The brothers guard us, take care of us. Clearly, that option is off the table.”

“Wait.” Dylan stilled his fingers. “I gotta ask, does this mean he’s a hen?”

“No, idiot, he’s a cock. As in
cock
atrice. We’re hermaphroditic in this form.”

“Huh. Gives a whole new meaning to chicks with dicks…” The inane giggle rising from his throat stopped with Tash’s scowl. “Sorry, I’m feeling slightly hysterical.”

Tash knuckled his lower lip. “If it’s true what Arum said and others are hunting him, then the basilica is out, at least until I can suss out if we have any friends among them. But we need to find a place where he can deliver the egg.”

“Why not here? It’s underground.”

He glanced around, noticed the broken crate and the toads, some of which had stuck around. “It might do. Who else knows you’re here?”

“No one. There were some weasels, but…” He waved in the direction of the gobs and gobs of greasy, grimy gopher guts spattered near the entrance. “Cam took care of those.”

“Weasels?”

“They were working with them.” He nodded toward the monks’ bodies. “But I got the feeling it’s a whole movement. And they all want this egg.”

Tash looked utterly lost. “It doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand. How could Brother Arum be part of this?”

“It’s some plan to make the church powerful again, Arum said. Look, I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now we gotta do something for Cam.”

“Well, this place won’t do, if what you’re saying is true. We can’t risk more weasels, not in his condition.” His eyebrows lowered. “You’re sure the weasels served the brothers?”

“They said they gave ’em some kind of a deal. The, uh, reformation.”

“
Reformatore
,” Tash corrected. “Worse and worse. We have enemies everywhere, then. I don’t know where to go.”

“We could take him back to my place. My neighbors… They really like him, and I think they have some idea of what he is. They called him…pretzel wattle or something.”

“Quetzalcoatl?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

With a heavy groan, Tash rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Would they help us, do you think?”

Kindly Manuela and fierce Jose? “Maybe? Least case, I don’t think they’ll mind. Much.”

“That’ll have to do, then. We’ll need more dirt. And more toads.”

“Okay, what’s up with the toads?”

“No more questions, boy.” He got to his feet. “God willing, we can build a nest, and Cam can lay. But after that, we’ll have some hard decisions to make.”

Cam whiffled, and Dylan stroked his head. “He’s so weak. What’s the matter with him? I mean, they hit him with a tranquilizer dart, but it seemed like it wore off already.”

“You tell me. You’re his lover.” The words were growled, but as Tash found Cam’s gold collar and picked it up, his expression softened. “I don’t know what we’ll do about this. Only a brother can put it on and give him back his human guise.”

“You mean he might be stuck like this forever?” 

“If we can’t find a brother to help us.”

His mind raced ahead. It meant sex was out, definitely, but worse than that, where would Cam live? He couldn’t walk around like this in public. Where in the world could a monster hide? And that was just it—for the rest of his life, he’d be hiding, on the run. 

Bending, he stretched awkwardly out along Cam’s neck, embracing him as best he could. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry I did this to you. I should have taken better care of you. Don’t you worry about nothing, though. I got you.” A hot, wet tear rolled onto Cam’s feathers, and Dylan pressed his face into the dusky mass. He stilled smelled good, like lemons, which just about broke Dylan’s heart.

A grumbled sigh made him look up. Cam stood, hands on hips, radiating disbelief. “I’m not believing what I’m seeing with my own two eyes. Tell me truly. Do you love him?”

Dylan sat up, frowning. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of god-awful sin too, right?”

“Surely it is. But there’s nothing we can do about that now. Come, help me gather these toads. Then we’ll have to wait until dark to move him.”

Shadows and shapes moved in the periphery of Cam’s vision. He heard Tash’s voice, and Dylan’s, quietly echoing in the chamber. They’d covered him with their jackets for warmth. His head lay pillowed on Dylan’s thighs. Dylan hadn’t left him, even though Cam had lain for what seemed like hours, drifting in and out of consciousness. Every so often, a pain in his belly would drag him to the surface, and Dylan or Tash would murmur something soothing. And then he’d drift away again, feeling an intense need to rest, to prepare for bringing their egg into the world.

At times, he understood what they were saying. Tash was teaching Dylan about their history. The legends. Stories of their own adventures around the world. He heard Dylan laugh at times—Tash was a gifted storyteller—and if he’d had a mouth rather than a beak, Cam would have smiled. His mentor and his lover, getting along. Surely it was a dream.

When they finally roused him, though, the dream ended, and his body cramped with pain. He squawked as they rolled him to his feet.

“Where you hurting, baby?” Dylan asked, stroking his neck. Cam kept his eyes tightly closed.

“We better hood him,” Tash said. “We don’t want any more accidental deaths.”

“Liam was no accident,” Dylan said, but he fitted the hood over Cam’s head. That was good. Now that worry lifted from his shoulders, such as they were, and Cam got his legs under him and stood.

“There you go,” Tash said, gripping Cam’s wing to steady him. “We’re taking you to Dylan’s apartment. You can nest there, we’re hoping. Then we’ll have to figure something out.”

Cam rumbled his disapproval. Back to Dylan’s apartment? Through the city streets? 

“It’s okay, I know some back alleys we can take,” Dylan said, his hand never leaving Cam’s neck. “And I’m hoping Manuela and Jose will help us. They can keep watch while you, uh, do your thing.”

Any attempt to express an opposing view fell on deaf ears. Dylan and Tash guided him out of the sewers. He scrabbled his way up and out, under the bridge, Tash pulling on his wings while Dylan pushed from underneath. He felt like such a clod. At this point, though, at least he realized his pain and exhaustion came more from fighting the weasels and less from the egg inside him. No, his body was made for that particular task, though his abdomen felt unnaturally full. 

A primal urge drove him to nest, and the thought of Dylan’s apartment, which he’d been cleaning diligently the past few days, sent a torrent of longing through him. Abruptly, he realized he’d been nesting there all week. He would have trotted blindly into the street and let his instincts guide him toward the place if Tash hadn’t grabbed his wing. 

“I see you’re feeling better,” he said quietly. “But you’ll have to wait. We’ve got to take you where no one will see.”

Of course. He listened while Tash helped Dylan out of the sewer. His mate’s hand on his neck comforted him. How Dylan couldn’t be repulsed by this form, he didn’t know, but he was grateful. He pushed his hooded head against Dylan’s chest and felt arms go around him. “Hey, handsome,” Dylan said, laughing when Cam butted him. “Take it easy, Big Bird, or you’ll knock me into the hole again.”

He whuffled out a happy sound, then let them spirit him back to apartment. He wasn’t sure how they navigated the streetlamps, but he recognized they weren’t going in the front door. The musty scent of a basement accompanied the creaking of Bilco doors opening. A hand on either side, they guided him down steps, then up another flight, and then he heard Jose’s alarmed shout.

“Dios mio! It is you, Quetzalcoatl!”

Dylan rapidly tried to explain, but Tash drowned him out. “He needs your help,” his mentor said in that deep, steady tone that had gotten Cam through many a crisis. “Would you be willing?”

Jose sputtered, “Of course. Of course! What can I do?”

He heard the familiar creak of Manuela’s door opening and then her gasp. Jose filled her in quickly. To his surprise, Cam felt her soft hands on his beak. He lowered his head in docile submission. “
Pobre creatura
,” she murmured. Poor creature.

His heart thumped in gratitude. Now he had four guardians. Surely all would be well. 

They brought him into Dylan’s apartment and spread out blankets. They arranged pillows around him, then, over the course of an hour or two, they piled dirt over the blankets, which he scratched in happily once they were done. It smelled like potting soil and was soft and cushiony. Felt good under his toes. Apparently, there’d been a quick and expensive trip to the local garden center. The soil was perfect. He nestled down into it. 

As he settled in his nest and purred contentedly, he felt Dylan’s arms loop around his neck. “How you doin’, Chicken Little?”

How to express his love? He nuzzled Dylan’s cheek and lifted his wings. 

Dylan scratched under his beak. “You look happier. That makes me feel better. I wish I could see your eyes.”

Cam shook his head.

“So you can understand me, huh? Just can’t talk. That’s okay. We’ll have plenty of time to talk after this. I ain’t going nowhere. If you’ll let me stick around, that is.”

Cam warbled softly and rubbed his beak on Dylan’s chest. He could hardly wait to wear his guise again, to walk with Dylan, to love him. Must be all the maternal and paternal hormones flooding him. He floated on a cloud of love and rightness as he settled more deeply into the potting soil. His body cramped once; twice… 

And then Dylan’s soft murmur: “Oh my God. Oh my fucking God! I think he did it.”

Cam stood and turned, carefully, and scented the freshly laid egg. “Good job, Cameron,” Tash said quietly and patted his back. 

“It’s so small. I guess I expected like a basketball or something.” Dylan again. “It’s more like an ostrich egg. Only yellow. And leathery. It’s okay if I handle it, right?”

“Of course. It’s a fine size. There’ll be a healthy hatchling from that, I’ve no doubt.” A note of pride touched Tash’s voice.

Manuela and Jose exclaimed softly in Spanish and offered blessings. 

Now that his job was done, Cam wanted his human guise back. He shook his head and stretched his neck, bumping against Tash.

Dylan asked, “What is it? Does he need something?”

“My guess is he’s looking for his collar.”

“Isn’t he gonna sit on the egg?”

“No. That’s what the toads are for. Cam’s done his duty.”