Page 91 of Glass Wings
Reign arched her back as dark brown wings with gray speckles ruptured out from her. She turned to run, her leg caught halfway through a step as she began to lift off the ground.
Dark smooth bodies underneath hooded cloaks fought each other as they moved to get out the front door, moving so fast that Sheng’s hair blew from his now expressionless face.
Hadley could feel them falling over her, long, long, sharp teeth from detached jaws snapping together right near her throat, rightnear her wings. It was her first time seeing them, what the priest, what even Sheng had warned her about, what the Vrae were. She didn’t breathe. She didn’t move. She just watched, her eyes unblinking, welling up with tears.
“I said leave her,” Sheng said in a low, dangerous voice amidst the chaos. Hadley heard a blood-curdling scream, Reign’s scream, as she looked at her friend who was falling toward the ground.
The monsters grasped Reign’s ankle and tugged as the front of her body hit the cement in a violent smack. Dark blue blood stained the cement and stone under her.
“You will not touch me,” she shouted, unable to lift her head to get out the words. That’s when Hadley noticed it, the stiffening, the small signal of magic pulsing through the Vrae, who were all fighting one another for their chance to jump on her.
The Vrae blinked at her and slowly began to back away, clearly not having the same resistance to her pull as Sheng did. Hadley let out a sigh of relief. She couldn’t apprehend what might have happened if they hadn’t stopped.
She couldn’t imagine such violence and suffering happening in broad daylight with neighbors nearby. Where were the neighbors? Why had no one come to help? Why had no one ever stared at them curiously, shotgun in hand?
“Do you know how tiresome it gets . . . having to take care of everything yourself?” Sheng asked Hadley as he stepped over her, passing the retreating Vrae. He moved until he reached Reign, and with the swiftest and most graceful scoop of his hand, he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up to his lips. He tore out her throat with his teeth.
Reign grasped her throat, her eyes wide in shock, while she slumped back down to the ground.
“Sheng, what are you doing?” Amis's voice huffed behind Hadley as she stared at Reign in horror.
Six or seven Vrae jumped on top of Reign, her hand reaching for the sky as the sound of ripping flesh made Hadley’s stomach turn.
“Have you never died before, Amis?” Sheng chuckled as Hadleyfound her voice and screamed in horror as she watched Reign get torn into pieces.
“You’ll need to reach her father and explain what happened,” she heard Sheng say to Amis. “We need them on our side.”
“How would I explain this?” Amis asked.
“What? Oh, the blood? She’s fine. My clan is satisfied. It’s all in good fun.”
A few minutes later, the Vrae left, licking their fingers, their robes stained and heavy with blue blood. Reign was unrecognizable. Discarded chunks of her wings were scattered around the ground like tossed scraps.
“He killed her!” Hadley screamed.
Where are the neighbors?
“He killed her, somebody help!”
Run, Get Out, He Will Kill You Too.
Hadley’s mind pushed through the chemical bond in her blood just as a hand covered her mouth and pulled her inside.
27
Amis | Sacramento, CA | Early 2000s
The girl thrashedand kicked in his arms, screaming and crying into his shirt as she went through waves of rage, grief, and terror. Her wings felt like tissue paper as they scraped against his skin, his cheek.
His wings were an extension of his skin, thick but soft. The girl’s wings felt too delicate, like they wouldn’t hold her weight.
Amis walked her into the kitchen, knowing that the only real time she had ever looked happy or relaxed was when a meal was in front of her.
He was exhausted and wondered if this was all a mistake. He sat the girl down, awkwardly propping her legs up and around the barstool so she wouldn’t slump off it. It didn’t seem likely that she could hold her weight.
As he suspected, she immediately laid her upper body on the table, her back convulsingwith every sob.
He wasn’t much of a cook, but doing something simple with his hands felt cathartic. He pulled open the fridge, pulled out butter and a block of expensive cheddar cheese, and laid the ingredients out on the steel countertop. He pulled the bread out of the bread box and turned to the stove, the path to a grilled cheese sandwich in front of him.
