Chapter 8: Talk Turkey

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"Woah... oops... ow... ugh... damn it... stupid wings... oh, got it... ach, never mind - ouch," I muttered to myself, staggering this way and that in the air as I tried to control the direction in which I was flying, trying to get back on top of the roof. Before getting there, I managed to bump into a lamp post, head butt the wall of the club and jam my funny bone against the edge of the roof.

By the time I had hauled myself over the edge with the help of Milo's shaking hands, Geoff had already pinned John down to the ground, his knee over his back. Gia was squatting on the floor, hands over her mouth as she stared off into the distance, her mind obviously whirling. 

Seeing me get back onto my feet, Gia stood up, giving Milo and I a long stare.

"What the fuck?" Gia said under her breath, walking over to the two of us. I gave my friend a sheepish smile, my wings slumping with my trepidation. Milo stiffened, his hands on my shoulders tightening. 

"Gia," Milo started, but she gave him a searing look, holding her hand up to quieten him. Milo's mouth snapped shut, his teeth clashing together.  Gia just stared at us for a moment longer, eyes moving from Milo's stoic face, to mine, to my wings, and then back to me. The stiff expression on her face broke as she crumpled up her features, letting out a frustrated groan. "Damn it, I really thought you two were dating. I'm so mad."

"Excuse me?" I asked, incredulous. 

"I'm not mad!" Geoff chortled, John's cry of pain when Geoff dug his knee into the soft, fleshy part of his back muffled by Geoff's elated laugh. "I win the bet!"

"Bet?" Milo dropped, frowning. "What bet?"

"Oh, we just had a little sibling bet. I swore that the secret you were keeping was that you're sleeping together, but Geoff thought otherwise. Neither of us thought that this was the secret though," Gia said calmly, waving her hands in the air before gesturing towards my wings, which flapped in relief. 

"What the fuck are you?!" John yelled out, his words choked as he struggled to take in air with Geoff's weight on top of him. 

Patting Milo's hands still on my shoulders comfortingly, I stepped out of his touch to skip over to John. Kneeling on the ground beside his head, the man paling as I smiled down at him, I gave a showy flex of my wings. Expanding them as far as I could, to the point that I'm sure John couldn't see much else, I serenely tilted my head to look at John. 

The gold cross he was wearing around his neck scraped against the rooftop, and I tugged at it with my finger. John flinched, squirming under Geoff's weight, my friend squeaking in surprise at the sudden movement. Geoff's arms jerked outwards, claw-like hands clamping around the back of John's head, shoving his face into the rough cement beneath him. 

"Naughty John," I said, tutting. "What did ya try to drug me with? GHB? Rohyppie-whatever?"

"Oh my God, what are you?" John cried out, his head shaking as tears began to drip from his eyes. Snot dribbled down his chin as he bawled, body trembling.

"Jesus, dude is like a bucking bull," Geoff mumbled, shifting his knee until John let out a winded noise of pain. "Or a dysfunctional sybian."

"Did not need that mental visual, bro," Gia muttered, before mumbling that she was going to get security to come up. She asked Milo to accompany her, and he looked torn, looking between me and the door before Gia rolled her eyes, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him downstairs. 

"Funny you should mention my dad, John!" I laughed, clapping my hands together before jerking my index finger towards the sky, John's eyes widening. "You know my dad, right?"

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