Page 63 of A Sip of Sin

Hollen waved to his friend, his arm straining until he finally dropped it when they turned out of sight. He held it to his chest, warmth brimming there. A month ago, he’d thought that Georgeand Adair were the only ones there for him. But now there were others—a stranger, even—who were fighting for him.

“Which airport are we headed to? The nice one is about two hours away, but there’s a tiny one much closer. And you never told us where we’re really going.” Hollen leaned against Munro, letting his head rest against his chest. There had to be something about the wind or the sun that was changing his perspective. Even this close to deadly fangs, nothing but the feeling of safety entered his soul.

“We shouldn’t need much of a runway,” said Munro, casting his gaze up and down the street. There was one person walking their way, but after Munro caught their eye, their gaze quickly clouded over, and they turned around. Wherever they’d been headed, it had obviously been wiped from their thoughts.

“Helicopter? I don’t think it can land on the teahouse.” Hollen huffed in a deep breath of peppermint and bergamot. He’d always been a coffee person, but he could see himself religiously switching to tea.

A touch on Hollen’s chin had him opening his eyes. Munro stared back at him, a soft smile on his face. It didn’t take much to close the space between them, lingering on Munro’s lips in a soft kiss. Hollen deepened it this time, barely getting a hint of taste before Munro pulled back.

“Sometimes I forget that you’re new to this world,” said Munro, placing a final peck to Hollen’s lips as a dark cloud suddenly enclosed them. The sudden fog was so thick that it blotted the sunlight from his vision, surrounding them both in a tight blanket of darkness.

Hollen reached for the darkness, blinking unseeingly. Instead of air and the dampness of fog, he met something solid and cool with the tips of his fingers. He jerked at the smoothness of it, the sound of crinkling paper following his movements. A piece brokefree, and he brought it closer to his face, squinting as his eyes adjusted.

The outline was distinct against his palm, the small fluffy tufts outweighed by thick bands of rigid keratin. The base was sharp and thick with crimson, a drop of blood seeping from the hollow point. It smeared on his fingertip, quickly drying dark.

“A feather?” He turned it over in his hands as Munro wrapped his arms around him, tugging Hollen in tight. “How?” He reached again just as the solid mass of feathers seemed to move, a sliver of sunlight poking through.

“Hold on.”

The screech that Hollen let out was less than dignified as the ground suddenly dropped out from beneath them and sunlight streamed in as their little dome of darkness suddenly becamewings.They beat against the air, louder than any bird, with feathers breaking free as they surged higher.

Still screaming, Hollen wrapped his legs around Munro’s waist, scrambling to hold onto his neck tight as the top of the building went from a large to an impossibly small square. Wind whistled through his ears, tugging at his clothes as the air temperature sharply dipped and his breath caught in his throat.

As he clutched at Munro’s shoulders with all his might, he inevitably slipped, moving his hands to Munro’s back. His mouth dropped open when he found something that he hadn’t expected. The wings were Munro’s, sprouting from his back in thick joints that flexed with each stroke.

“Oh my God.” Hollen’s arms went weak as he slipped downward, and he scrambled to hold onto anything he could reach. Munro brought his arms up to support him just as Hollen clawed at his shirt, a few buttons and some cloth ripping free. Munro’s skin beneath that cloth was colder than before, as if the air itself was sinking straight into him.

“That should be high enough,” said Munro, the wind calming as he paused, and they hung in the air. A moment later he thrust his wings wide, the front edge tilting back toward the earth as they broadened into massive petals aloft on the currents.

Hollen couldn’t stop screaming and clawing at Munro as they suddenly tilted back the way they’d come, the buildings below nothing but pinpricks. They were small enough that he panted, wondering if there was even enough air up here for them or if he would slowly suffocate, only to crash back to the earth.

But as their speed picked up, something strange happened. A lofty warmth seemed to hit them from below, lifting them weightless until they were at a similar height as before. The weightless moment didn’t last as long this time before Munro tipped his wings again, letting them slip closer to the ground.

Hollen couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight, even as his scream died on his lips. They were flying—actually flying—and he’d never been more terrified in his life. With his arms growing weaker by the moment, it was only a matter of time before he slipped and plunged down toward the ground. There was no amount of flapping that would stop his descent.

“Relax,” said Munro, breathing right into Hollen’s ear. “I’ve got you.” He flexed his hands that were supporting Hollen’s ass, where he was very much wrapped around Munro like a monkey. When Hollen’s arms at last gave out, Munro caught him, not letting him slip more than an inch before he was cradled tight again.

“Never ever do that again.” Hollen leaned his face into Munro’s neck, trying to blind himself with spices and softness. He was trembling, his teeth chattering, but not just from the cold. “This probably isn’t the best moment to mention that I’m afraid of heights.”

He took one peek below, shuddering at the specs of buildings that had morphed into soft fields colored yellow, brown, and green. Their linear shapes were unmistakable.

“I probably shouldn’t mention that I don’t often fly, then.” Munro chuckled as Hollen hugged him tighter, his fingers dipping beneath Munro’s clothes. He dug his fingers in hard, clutching Munro tighter.

“I can’t—” Hollen glanced down, his stomach swooping. The constant up and down, on what had to be wind drafts, was making his stomach churn as if he were on a rollercoaster. This had to be the worst coaster of his life as they dipped a little lower the next time, picking up enough speed that the wind clawed at him, buffeting against his ears.

“Do something.” Hollen whimpered, fighting back tears. “I can’t do this. Let’s find the car. We can ride on top of it for all I care, but I can’t do this the whole way.”

Munro hummed, most of his voice lost to the wind. Hollen couldn’t miss it when Munro spoke directly into his ear, the tendril of his breath sending a shiver along his spine. “I could distract you.”

“Please. Anything.” His teeth were chattering now, tears building in his eyes. Even George was starting to stir, obvious in his concern. But what could a demon do against a thousand feet?

“Look at me,” said Munro, his voice brooking no argument.

Hollen only hesitated for a moment before tilting his head up, but he couldn’t open his eyes again. He couldn’t see the wasteland that the sky was, the moisture gathering on Munro’s clothes as they passed through a low-hanging cloud that strained at his lungs.

Lips touching his pulled him straight out of his terrified spiral. With the air carving through his hair and pure weightlessness in his core, the kiss was like a dream. The colddidn’t matter, and neither did the unknown as Munro deepened the kiss, sliding their lips together before begging for entry.

“You need to watch where you’re going,” said Hollen, mumbling against Munro’s lips before letting himself be led deeper. He would never get used to that perfect touch—or the taste of spices over his tongue. Munro was unlike any man, and that was exactly the way he liked it. Each lick into his mouth was a surprise, every scrape of teeth or nip a seduction.

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