A Shadow of Wings (6 page)

“You stepped in,” Tash muttered. In his human form, he was a big man with dark red hair cut longish, and the heavy black leather jacket he wore, worn and scarred from many years of travel and abuse, only made his disapproving presence seem to flood the room. “You were called?” His sharp, blue-eyed gaze pinned Cam.

Cam nodded. “At least it was just a dog this time.”

“True enough.” He turned his attention back on Gertie, who whimpered and cowered under the strength of those eyes. “Well, get rid of it,” Tash said, though his voice softened. “That accursed calling of yours. This the only one since I’ve been gone?”

He nodded again, feeling a little tension drain from him. He’d heard the soft click of the window shutting behind the door and knew Dylan had kept his word. “I’m sorry.”

Task turned to him and scruffed Cam’s hair with rough affection. “You’re always sorry. Doesn’t stop it from happening. Did you do any damage?”

“No deaths.”

“Good enough, then. Got any coffee?”

“Yes. I can make some. How was your trip?” Falling easily into their usual routine, Cam led Tash into the kitchen, his heart stumbling when he saw the pile of dishes in the sink. More than what one person would leave. Fortunately, Tash settled at the kitchen table, stretching out his long, jeans-clad legs to shuffle through yesterday’s papers. Gertie slunk in and lay down in the doorway.

“You don’t have to scurry around serving me,” Tash said mildly. “You’re twenty-one now. We’re equals.”

“I’m sorry. It’s a hard habit to break.” Cam studied his mentor while he poured water in the kettle. No matter what he said, Tash would never treat him as an equal. Older than Cam by nearly fifty years, in his human body Tash looked maybe thirty-five, his chronological aging slowed by his time spent at the basilica in his true form, something Cam rarely did. 

Still irritated at having his morning so disrupted, he slammed the kettle onto the stove with a little more force than necessary.

Tash glanced at him thoughtfully. “You did all right on your own this past week? Stayed out of trouble, then?”

“For the most part.”
Last night notwithstanding
. “Other than the dog,” he said, before Tash questioned the color Cam could feel heating his face.

“Brother Arum was very interested to hear about your…issue.”

“You told him?” He’d thought—hoped—his mentor would keep his strange trait secret from the monks he’d gone to visit.

“I had to. It could be dangerous. We don’t know what it means, why you feel so driven to go out and save people. Or attack people, depending on how you look at it.”

Cam started to protest, then stopped, remembering how satisfying it had been to lay into those gangbangers, how his blood rushed and boiled. Could be Tash had a point. “Surely I’m protecting,” he said quietly.

“Brother Arum conjectures this might be a result of your having been schooled and raised with humans. Few have spent as much time among them as you.”

“It’s what they wanted, isn’t it? For us to be able to blend in, walk among them?”

“Yes. I suppose in any experiment, there might be side effects to be expected.” He paused while Cam took the whistling kettle from the stove.

“I’ve only got instant coffee. I hope that’s okay.”

“Trashy American,” Tash grumbled, but he said it with a grudging smile, and Cam felt bad for losing his temper earlier. The older trice had been both teacher and friend to him since Cam had first left the basilica. In fact, Tash might even be his father. There was no way to tell. “Not many have spent as long in human form as you, either. It might explain your aberrant affection for them.”

Was that what they’d think of his attraction to Dylan? That it was unnatural? Of course it was. And so would Dylan, if he knew Cam’s true form, which he must never. Cam poured the water into the coffee, mopping up the spill with a dishtowel when he stirred too hard. When he thought about last night, it seemed like an impossible dream. 

“I like people,” he said. “I can’t believe the brothers would object to that. Doesn’t it help if we don’t see them as enemies?”

“Perhaps, but you can never trust them, not fully. Thanks.” Tash took the coffee, and Cam wished he’d focus on it and not on him so much. He’d always felt as if his teacher could see right through him. “Above all, don’t forget that you aren’t one of them. I can tell you one thing”—he set down his cup and stretched his arms up and back over his head—“I can’t wait to be out of this bloody human body. It’s been years, and I feel like I’m wearing a suit two sizes too small for me.” 

When Tash closed his eyes and ran his fingers over the gold chain around his throat—the charm that bound him—the shadow of his soul spread about him, and Cam could see the strong thrust of Tash’s wings and the glow of a golden crown above his head. Only a cockatrice could see another trice’s soul, and even then rarely, only when the creature was off guard or perhaps agitated. Then the human guise weakened, and the true beast beneath shone through.

It dissipated when Tash opened his eyes again and, with a heavy sigh, spooned sugar into his coffee. Mentoring, which required this form, was considered an honor, but it was also a burdensome task. For a trice to stay in his human body for so long drove most of them to the limits of their endurance. 

Except for Cam. He’d never admitted it to his mentor, but he felt more at home in his man’s shape than he did in scales and feathers. The day the brothers had placed the charm about his throat, confining him to this body, however temporarily, had been like an awakening.

Worried Tash would read his thoughts in his eyes, he said, “Do you want anything to eat?” while he pulled down cereal and a bowl for himself.

“What, not going to ask anything else about my trip? Don’t you want to know what else Arum had to say?” He waved his spoon in Cam’s general direction. “You must be itching to be out of that soft flesh too. And you’ve gotten to mating age.”

“I…I’m not interested in that yet. I feel like I have some other purpose.”

“Funny you should say that, because Arum said something similar. When I told him of the calling, he thought we should wait to bring you back to the basilica. Leave you out in the world, see what comes of it.”

Cam’s relief was short-lived when Tash continued. “There’s been an increase in weasel activity in Costa Rica. Arum said he’d meet with the council and recommend you be sent there after a fashion. He feels your calling might help you root out nests and put down swarms.”

“I don’t want to go to Costa Rica,” Cam bit out before he could stop himself. He took a deep breath when Tash glowered at him. “I like it here. I feel like I still have much to learn.”

“Like what?” Tash waved an arm toward the window overlooking the street. “This area is spiritually depressed, and God knows there’s no treasure. There’s nothing for us to do. That’s why I felt safe leaving you while I went back to Rome.” He leaned his weight on one elbow, his expression intent. “Well, Costa Rica’s only conjecture at this point. And anyhow, there’s other news as well. Arum told me this year’s clutch had only three eggs. Three, when we lost ten of our number last year in Sierra Leone, and several others have gone missing without a word right here in America. I myself fought off an attack while on my way back to you.”

Cam swallowed his half-chewed cereal. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“It was in Sperlonga. A cloud of weasels swarmed me. Had I been able to change”—he looped his fingers in his gold chain and curled his lip—“I would’ve made short work of them. As it was, I only killed two. The rest got away. It’s why I hurried back to you. The fucking weasels are hunting us. Our numbers are dwindling, Cam, and I’m sensing there’s unrest even among the brothers. You can’t linger about waiting for enlightenment. You’re sworn to the brotherhood, to serve the church. If they say you’re going to Costa Rica, then they have their reasons for sending you there.”

“What about you?”

“In a week, I’m returning to the basilica to breed. The strongest of us will meet and mate, but that will put seven of us out of commission for at least several months. Michael and Daniel have been gravid before, and we’re praying they’ll take again.”

“But they’re so old…”

“I’m no spring cockatrice myself anymore, m’lad, but we must try. Of the seven, two are about your age.” His gaze ran up and down Cam, not sexually but clinically. “If it wasn’t for your strange urge to go out and play superhero, you’d be in this mating ball instead of me.”

Cam couldn’t help twisting his lips into a frown and turning his face away. Tash gave a harsh laugh. “Doesn’t appeal? Don’t tell me you’re developing human notions of romance?”

When Cam shook his head, unconvincingly, he was sure, Tash snorted. “I told Arum I was worried you were beginning to see yourself as more human than trice.” He stood, walked around the table, and caught Cam’s shoulder in his strong hand. “Humans are proud. Unruly. They’ve lost their way. Don’t let their energy and glamor distract you from your true calling. We must be humble and serve our masters. It is the entire purpose of our creation. Don’t forget who you are.” 

Cam knew all the stories, the legends of how a medieval knight had saved the last cockatrice from utter destruction in return for loyalty and service to the one true church. That had been his favorite tale as a fledgling, and then he’d been honored to be part of such a venerable tradition. Yet he’d begun to question all he’d been taught. If Tash knew the seed of doubt had not only taken root in his heart but was sprouting branches and flowers, his mentor would see him chained and bound in the basilica dungeons. No matter how much affection they had for each other, Tash’s ultimate loyalties lay with the brothers they served. Cam bowed his head to hide his frustration, and Tash ran his hand over his hair, as if Cam was an obedient hound.

“You’re a good boy, Cameron. I also told Arum of your intelligence and patience. Not everyone could blend in with humans as well as you. What you learn from them will help us discern the good from the evil. Someday, who knows…”

Cam lifted his eyes. “What?”

Tash shrugged. “In the beginning, all creatures walked together in peace, man and monster alike. It’s a foolish dream, but I wonder if that day may come again.”

“If they knew about us…” He hurried on in the face of Tash’s skeptical scoff. “Some humans might be ready to learn.”

“No, not yet. The brothers will tell us, when or if that day should come. Can you imagine now if our existence became known? It’d be a bloodbath. Us first, and humans second if our enemies, the
reformatores
, have their way. It’s clear their control of the weasels has become more organized.” He shook his head. “No, we must trust utterly in the guidance of the brothers. They are God’s hands on our hearts.” For emphasis, he squeezed Cam’s shoulder, then dropped his arm. 

Cam bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from arguing further. How an otherwise intelligent creature like his teacher could be so unquestioningly loyal to the brothers disturbed him. Yes, the
reformatores
, a small group opposed to the church’s secret use of cockatrices, had always existed, but he remained unconvinced of their threat. “What now, then? Am I returning to the basilica with you?” 

“We’ll have to wait for Arum’s decision. He’s in charge of this region.” Tash stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. “I need to gather my strength for the mating, and since it’s quiet in this area, I’ll take my rest here, do some studying. I have another week before I leave.”

That meant a few more days without his mentor’s strenuous training schedule. Perhaps some time to be with—

“But I have a task for you.”

Cam tried not to let his disappointment show and bowed his head again, humbly. “How can I serve?”

“Arum wants you to follow your calling this time rather than resist it as I’ve counseled you in the past. And he wants a report. How it feels, when it starts. Where it leads you. What you encounter. It might even be best if you wander about the poorer parts of the city, where crime’s more likely.”

Cam’s interest perked. “It would be a relief not to resist it for once.”

“Not that you’ve ever resisted it well,” Tash replied with a twist of his lips. “Nevertheless, use caution and don’t get caught. And don’t bring home any more strays. Above all, don’t kill anyone. Keep your eyes down. Use the skills I’ve taught you.”

“I will.”

“Arum has faith in you, lad. Serve the order and serve God. Perhaps a greater destiny awaits you.”

Dylan heard the carillon in the cathedral strike six as he loitered on the sidewalk next to the East Side Veterinary Clinic. He wore the same jeans as the night before, but a clean shirt, and the smell of wet dog and antiseptic clung to him. Even the slight breeze wafting over him in the September dusk couldn’t blow it away. He missed the combined scent of soap and Cam he’d gone to bed with after a wonderful hot shower. He missed sleeping in that big, soft bed with big, hard Cam in his arms.

Fuck, the guy was sweet. If Dylan hadn’t been so exhausted, he would’ve done more with Cam, but as it was, between the full meal, the great handjob and a shower, Dylan had been tuckered out as a baby. All it had taken was for Cam to pull him close beneath those silky soft covers, and Dylan was out like a light. 

Lucky for him, he’d had to leave Gertie behind. It couldn’t have worked out better if he’d planned it, since it gave him an excuse to see the kid again. Having Cam deliver the dog also gave Dylan an opening to get into that comfy bed again. Maybe he’d have more meatballs and pasta. Dylan’s empty belly contracted painfully. But hey, it wasn’t just about creature comforts. It was about Cam too. Dylan liked him, really liked him. 

It wasn’t just about fucking his way into the fridge. Really.

His stomach growled, and he chewed a little more vigorously on the Big Red gum he’d pawned off of Dr. Martin earlier. Hopefully he wasn’t just fooling himself that the kid would show up. But then he saw Cam walking down the dirty sidewalk toward him, all long limbs and angles, and growled for real. Oh baby, he looked just as hot as he had yesterday. And it seemed like he and Gertie had called a truce. The skinny pit trotted by his side on a loose leash.