Equinox
Chapter Nine
Mesmerizing orange and yellow flames licked across the surface of the wood, igniting the tinder placed strategically there. It was the first thing I saw upon waking, and minutes lapsed before I managed to tear my gaze away from it, and up to the canopy of barren trees above. A dull pain thrummed all throughout my body.
Shadowed figures traipsed beyond my view, hushed murmurs coalescing over the crackle of the fire. I could detect several distinct sets of footsteps; possibly four other people meandering around the campsite. I briefly wondered, in my state, how easily I would be able to escape. Especially in the case that they actually pursued me.
"I think she's awake."
The small whisper reached my ears, and I instantly tensed. The sound of someone approaching was evident, and I seized any panic before it could burst forth. In any situation, you always had to remain calm.
"Max?" Fang's unmistakable timber resounded deep in my gut, as his familiar obsidian eyes filled my vision. "You okay?"
I blew out a breath I had unconsciously been holding, struggling to sit erect. Fang kneeled instantly at my side, his hand fitted to the small of my back for support. Wherever his fingers and palm touched, alien tingles spread. I bit my lip to hide how shaky the sensation made me; feigning weakness.
"Where am I?" I wondered aloud, brushing the soft pads of my fingers over the bulge on my temple. They came away dry, meaning someone had washed the blood from the jagged cut. "What happened?"
Fang moved to sit across from me, his elbows resting on his knees. The fire reflected off of his eyes, giving them a marble-like quality. His lengthy eyelashes cast slanted lines across his cheekbones, shrouding his expressionless face further into darkness.
"Don't worry. We're not far from your home," he informed me, speaking in clipped sentences. I was getting the sensation that it was normal for him. "As for what happened . . . well, you tell me."
I paused for a moment, trying to recollect all that had transpired. As I reminisced, I took inventory of my injuries. There were various slashes from the glass, but they were minimal and not very deep. My ribs were torturing me the most, which undoubtedly meant some were fractured. I would have to see an actual doctor about that. Mulling over my ribs consequently reminded me of my treacherous fall, and the blow that had knocked me so far off my feet.
"Damn poltergeist," I muttered sullenly, my upper lip curling at the memory.
Fang raised an eyebrow.
"It was a poltergeist. You know, like a ghost," I explained, as if it should have been obvious to him. From the distinctly incredulous look on his face (the first true sign of emotion I had seen from him thus far), I could tell he wasn't buying my story.
"Let me guess," I drawled. "You don't believe in ghosts."
He smirked, and my heart leaped in response.
"Well, get used to the idea, because that's exactly what happened. I would steer clear of there if I were you, too. Poltergeist's have a lot of anger built up. After all, you're human and they're not. You've seen the damage they can do."
"Clearly," he spoke dryly, indicating that he thought I was certifiably crazy.
"What were you doing there anyway?" I demanded, my eyes narrowing. The City of Lost Souls had never been a hot spot for anything other than spirits. Even regular animals sensed enough to stay away from its enclosure.
His eyes immediately darkened, lips pressed tightly together in response.
"He was following you!" a voice piped up suddenly, startling me so much that I jolted where I sat. I had completely forgotten that there were others present, still lingering out of sight. Now, they chose to emerge.
The first was a grinning girl, mocha skinned and curly haired; appearing about twelve or thirteen. She was trailed by a much younger female, whose angelic blonde curls reminded me instantly of Gazzy. The last was a boy, probably around mine and Fang's age, who towered clearly over six foot. His strawberry blonde hair was spiked around his head, eyes cloudy and blue.
Fang remained unaffected by their presence, motioning to each in turn as he gruffly introduced them. "That's Iggy, and they're Angel and Nudge. Guys, this is Max. She helped patch up my wing."
I smiled wanely at them, offering a subtle wave. They (aside from Iggy, who just looked faintly bored) exuded nothing but enthusiasm. Without hesitation, they formed a circle around me, settling into place expectantly.
A few moments of silence passed, before I recalled what had been exposed just before they revealed themselves.
"You were following me?" This time I was the incredulous one.
"Didn't plan on it. But you passed right by where we were camped. You were alone, and I remembered that thing that almost killed you the first night. Thought maybe it wouldn't hurt to keep a tab on you. Guess I was right," he annotated shortly, with the barest minimum of details. His words were accented by an ineffective shrug.
"That thing was a werewolf . . . and it didn't almost kill me!" I bristled defensively, though I knew he was right. If Dylan hadn't intercepted when he did, I would have been done for.
"A werewolf?" the angelic girl, Angel, queried; baby blue eyes large and fearful. Nudge mirrored her expression.
"Uh . . ." I shot a look at Fang, wondering what I should say. Eventually, I decided the truth was better. Especially if they were sleeping out here in the wild. "Yeah. A werewolf. Usually, they only morph during a full moon. That night was somewhat of a special occasion, though. He was much stronger than usual. That's the only reason he overpowered me."
Iggy snickered, but didn't comment. However, his level of interest had greatly increased.
"You're serious, aren't you?" Fang finally asked, his dark brow furrowed.
My chocolate brown eyes found his, unwavering in the settling dusk. Without releasing my gaze, I unraveled the items stored around my belt. A silver dagger, the holy water grenades, Fairy Stun gun, and all the other devices and weapons; tumbled out onto the forest floor for all to see.
"It'd be a pretty elaborate joke, don't you think?" was all I said in reply.
Fang rubbed the back of his neck, whistling softly. Beside him, Angel was staring hard at me, as if she were trying to concentrate on a difficult subject. When my gaze flickered to her, though, she dropped her eyes to her lap. I was slightly miffed by this, but decided it probably wasn't of any importance.
"So . . . you're saying things like ghosts and werewolves are real? What about vampires? And witches and wizards? All those magical things that everyone says don't exist. It doesn't make sense. Why haven't we seen them before? Or at least heard that they weren't all just fairy tales?" Nudge rambled for some time after that, the tumble of words never slowing as they passed her lips.
Finally, I cut her off. "People don't know, because it's safer that way. If the general populace obtained such knowledge, there'd be widespread panic. In this particular case, ignorance is bliss."
"But you know," Iggy pointed out, speaking for the first time. His body turned in my direction, but he refused to directly meet my eyes.
"That's because I grew up in an organization that's devoted to regulating the population of paranormals. We monitor their activity, and when they begin to pose a threat to human society, we exterminate them." My illustration was rather archaic, but it displayed the essential standards of the CSM.
After all, that was fundamentally what the acronym stood for: Coalition to Stop the Madness.
"How exactly did you become involved with such an establishment?" Iggy inquired, leaning closer to the fire. He lounged out, propping himself up on his elbows. Relaxing for story time.
"I was kind of . . . born into it. My father was chief advisor for many years. He ran our entire branch." I swallowed over the sudden thickness in my throat, blinking rapidly. We were crawling into dangerous territory, and I didn't - under any circumstances - want to dwell on the memory of my dad.
The demeanor shifted palpably, some unspoken message delivered to everyone present. They didn't question me any further.
"What about you?" I asked, tilting my head towards Fang. I didn't actually have to mention the wings; he knew the information I sought.
He hesitated, his jaw set. "Long story."
"I've got time," I retaliated almost instantly, making a show of getting comfortable.
The rising moon begged to differ. Strands of inky night were encompassing the sky, swallowing any lingering slivers of golden light. In the distance, the nocturnal animals were sparking to life; their rustles murmuring through the undergrowth. By now, Dylan would be concerned as to my whereabouts. A few more hours, and the forest would be flooded with search parties.
"No you don't," Fang replied swiftly and surely. How he had managed to gather all that from my unalterably tense shoulders, I had no idea.
"I deserve to know the truth," I justified, stubbornly refusing to abandon my platform.
"You saved my life," he conceded. "I saved yours in turn. We're even now."
I tossed my head back, barking out a bitter laugh. The movement sent a twinge through my ribs, and I sucked in a breath, hoping nobody had noticed. "That's surely not the case. Now tell me what you are."
"Fang," Angel piped up impulsively, shooting him a sugar-coated smile. There was a persuasive purr to her next words that had even stone-like Fang caving to reason.
. . . "We should stay with her."