Angel's Mark

Six

For some reason, heights were twice as scary now as they had been before I'd had wings.

Alright—it wasn't the height, specifically. It was a lot of things, but it wasn't the height. There was the impassive way Zev was standing down there below me, like he wouldn't even flinch if I fell flat on my face in front of him. There was the grin on Cian's face like he was happily anticipating this fall. And there was the pressing sense of failure on the back of my neck that refused to go away.

I was going to die today, for sure. A third time.

"By all logical logic," announced Zev, like that made any sort of sense at all, "you would not have nearly died yesterday had you known how to fly properly. Thus is your next segment of training."

I groaned, scuffing my bare feet across the shingled roof. I was outside the window to Cian's bedroom, which on a normal day was my brother's quiet space, but today was the spot from which I would plunge to my certain death. Cian and Zev stood in the backyard beneath me; Cian was supposed to be keeping watch for any wandering eyes, but he seemed severely focused on watching me fail.

"This is ridiculous," I called down. "It's windy as he—heck up here."

"Angels must be able to fly in every circumstance, Vinny," said Cian, and he and Zev exchanged a fist bump.

I let out a sigh. It was a calm morning to what had been a chaotic night: chirping birds and pale blue skies and sweater weather. These kinds of mornings were reserved for coffee mugs and easy conversations. Not this.

Nevertheless, I tuned in to the humming within me. It was always there, a song under my skin, a reminder that I wasn't precisely human anymore. The second I told it to, the second I stopped suppressing it, wings unfolded from my back, opening up with a gentle flap. I rubbed a white feather softly, muttering so that only I heard it: "Please don't fail me now. Please."

"Good," Zev commended, placing his hands on his hips. He took a few steps further back into the yard, and tugged Cian with him. "Now fly up, then float down to us. Gently. Got it?"

I rolled my eyes. It didn't get more basic than that. "Yes, Zev. I got it."

"You can do it, Vince," added Cian with an exuberant clap.

Wind blew by again, chilling any exposed skin. I exhaled into the cool air, then took a running step off the roof. I dipped down for a moment, but my wings caught me, flapping up and then down again, my feet hovering in the air.

A delighted smile formed at my lips; I brought my arms to my sides, shooting upwards, high enough that I could feel the sun on my face. There were shouts of celebration below me, but when I looked down, Cian was the only one who looked excited.

"Great," called Zev, in a fashion in which I could tell that nothing at all was great. "Now come back down."

I was already a little out of breath, a surge of adrenaline running through my veins that I couldn't seem to silence. I closed my eyes again, trying to calm it all down, trying to talk myself into doing what Zev had asked. But I still felt it, that rapid heartbeat, that frantic excitement.

I must have been focusing too much, because altogether my wings stopped flapping and, painfully and awkwardly, I plummeted.

My shoulder broke my fall, and I rolled right onto Zev's foot with a groan, my eyes squinted shut.

I don't know why I even expected either of them to be concerned. Zev just had a grimace on his face, while Cian was barely stifling a laugh. Seriously, his whole face was red. I was afraid that if he held it a second longer he'd suffocate.