Equinox
Chapter Six
A snowball whizzed past my ear, so close I could hear the ice crunching in it. I ducked quickly, rolling with the momentum until I was tucked safely behind a tree. The cold air stung my lungs, as I breathed in deeply. Sometime during the frame in which we had reported back to the CSM building, the snow had piled on a few extra inches.
It didn't take long for one of us to discover how thick and sticky it had become.
I liked to assume the reason Dylan and Gazzy teamed up against me was because I was the most dangerous opponent. In reality, it was only a simple game of boys against girls. I just happened to be the only girl present.
Hooray.
Regardless, I continued to build up my arsenal. Despite the numbness that was creeping into my fingers, a pile of snowballs was building at my feet. After carefully shaping the last lump in my hand, I paused to listen.
There was an unmistakable sound of scrabbling feet, heading in my direction. Without sparing a thought towards the missing link, I scooped up my weapons, and engaged in battle.
Gazzy lurched to a halt when I leaped from my shelter. Before he could gather his bearings, I unleashed a furious hail of snow on him. He blocked what he could, dipping and jumping across the clearing. When the last snowball flung from my hand, I was sure I could claim victory.
My smile had just reached its farthest point when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I whipped around in time to be slammed onto the ground, pinned there by the heavy weight of Dylan's body. We wrestled for an undetermined amount of time, grappling between the two of us, with Gazzy's chants of encouragement waging in the background.
Eventually my breath began coming painfully fast, and I executed a maneuver that smashed Dylan's face straight into the hard-packed snow, his arms twisted around his back.
"Give up yet?" I whispered tauntingly, lowering my mouth to his ear. He wriggled uselessly, giving somewhat of a nod.
After one last triumphant moment, I freed him. We both clamored to our feet, beginning to sweat through the cold. All three of us were dripping with melted snow, our hair saturated with the messy slush. Gazzy's hat had long ago been lost.
"We should probably go before we catch hypothermia or something," Dylan suggested, his keen eye easily catching the shiver that wracked my spine.
"I wouldn't mind some hot chocolate and a nice fire," Gazzy agreed, shaking his head like a wet dog. I dodged the droplets that rained outwards from it.
I nodded. "Alright. Let's head back. Anne is probably having a freaking cow by now anyway."
We had barely taken three steps in the direction of headquarters when a snap, followed by a harsh thump, infiltrated my senses. I whirled quickly, my gaze honing in on the area the sound had come from. Dylan stilled beside me, pushing Gazzy back gently.
We had been making a lot of noise. A lot. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if we had alerted every paranormal within a mile radius of our location. It seemed likely that we would scare them off, though. Not attract them. Not a day after the Winter Solstice, and most certainly not in the middle of the day.
"Cover my back," I commanded under my breath. Dylan nodded, sliding behind me. Gazzy, despite his brave talk, had a minute look of fear on his face.
Of course, we hadn't come totally unarmed. Even against all the odds, we weren't stupid. We were still in the middle of the forest, with no one around to help us. Any number of accidents could occur.
In any case, I was always prepared for the inevitable.
Slowly, and as silently as possible, I crept forward. There wasn't much more noise coming from whatever creature had stumbled across our path. I could hear it breathing, though; ragged and much too fast.
In pain.
My hand flew to rest on the hilt of the knife sheathed at my waist. There wasn't a powerful enough scent coming off for me to discern what kind of thing it was. It just smelled . . . very in need of a shower. Very.
I paused briefly, gathering my bearings. I could still feel Dylan hovering over my shoulder, Gazzy not too far behind. Reassured that they were there, I proceeded to act; swiftly stepping into view.
I was prepared to fight; to defend myself against an attacker. I was not, on the other hand, prepared to halt in disbelief.
It was a boy, probably around my age. His hair was inky black, curled around his chin and plastered to his dirt-ridden forehead. The sinewy chords of his arms tensed as I came into sight, but he didn't move from where he crouched on his knees. Depthless, dark eyes turned to bore into mine. He remained expressionless and stone-faced.
"What is it?" Gazzy murmured.
"Is he a fairy?" Dylan asked brusquely, coming to stand beside me. His stature was relaxed. Apparently, he didn't see the boy as a threat.
His comment puzzled me, until I finally caught sight of the raven colored feathers protruding from the boy's back. They appeared to be somewhat folded wings. Instantly, my hand flew to my throat, where I knew the black feather was resting against my skin.
"I've never seen one with actual feathered wings," I pointed out, my gaze never leaving the boy's striking stare.
Dylan grunted. "There's a first time for everything."
"He's not one of the fay," I remarked decidedly. "His bone structure is too human." His skin was too olive toned as well. Fairy's were either unnaturally pale, or occasionally just unnaturally colored.
"Then what kind of paranormal is he? Because I sure don't know," Dylan hedged, an alien sort of malice creeping into his tone.
Anger flashed quickly in the boy's eyes, before flickering back into darkness. He struggled to stand, leaning on a nearby tree trunk for support. Unconsciously, I stepped forward.
"Are you guys insane?" I started at the sound of his voice; somehow rough and molten smooth at the same time.
Instead of answering his question, I concluded: "I don't think he's a paranormal at all. At least, not something the CSM has ever cataloged."
"Paranormal? CSM? What the hell are you even talking about?" he demanded gruffly, a ripple passing through his muscular arm. I could see his jaw clenching and unclenching, and his breathing continued in short bursts; revealing his affliction.
I strode closer, my boots crunching in the fallen snow beneath. He watched me cautiously, but didn't move. My scrutinizing glare swept over him, searching for the source of his discomfort. Through the awkward overlap of his wings, I surveyed a point at which the feathers clumped together. The browning crimson of dried blood was evident.
Once again, my fingers lingered over the place where the feather brushed against my chest. I thought back to last night, and the dark mass perched high in the trees. It hadn't been apparent to me then, but from so far away, any bird would have been considerably smaller . . .
"You were there last night, weren't you?" I inquired softly, running my fingers through my thick blonde locks. It kept my hands busy, as they itched to reach out and touch the boy's wings.
He nodded mutely.
"Dylan shot you with one of his arrows."
It wasn't a question. He didn't have to respond.
"What's your name?" It was a simple thing to ask, yet he seemed to hesitate, as if trying to determine whether or not he could trust me with even that.
Finally, he opened his mouth and spoke. "Fang. They call me Fang."
Fang. It suited him; mysterious and dark.
"I'm Max, and this is Dylan and Gazzy. We're going to get to know each other a lot more, because you obviously need some medical assistance, and I know the perfect person to help," I assured him, though he looked anything but enthused. The blank mask he was wearing seemed to solidify further.
"Thanks for the offer, but I don't need your help," he replied, positioning his body as if he was going to walk away.
"I didn't ask." Stubbornness began creeping through my system. "And besides, your wing won't survive long with that kind of injury. If it's not treated soon, you'll have to chop it off so infection won't spread to the rest of your body. After all, it'll only be dead weight by then. Totally useless."
My venomous tact seemed to be working, judging by the way his wiry frame went instantly rigid at the thought.
"Come on," I said, this time more gently. "I know a great vet. She'll patch you right up."