Tightly, my eyes close as she removes the one that punctured my skin. Ryder’s hand grips mine and I cling tightly to it. A grimace is all I give. The wound is insignificant compared to the rest, but I hold Ryder’s hand for comfort anyway.
Cold liquid drips down onto my feathers, seeping into the softness and trickling across my flesh. Her small hand rubs in the medicine, and sharp pain slices through my shoulder blades as she massages the broken limb.
“You’re alright, Kara,” Ryder says quietly as my teeth grind together and an unsteady exhale leaves my lips. Just when I think it isn’t that bad, the pain strikes back to remind me otherwise.
I feel the medicine tingling right into my nerves, making the burning pain turn to a dull ache.
“Okay, apply this to your leg and her leg before you go to bed.” Mesa turns from Ryder, her attention on my inky feathers once again. “This stuff won’t heal broken bones, so unless you want a bum wing for the rest of your life, make sure Ryder heals you first thing tomorrow morning.”
“I will,” Ryder promises, taking the small bottle from her.
A swinging door is just a few feet away and gentle music and humming voices filters through it. The music settles my nerves a little.
Mesa wanders away from us and I focus all my energy into taking calming breaths. Once more she looks through her medicine before choosing another one and coming back to us.
Her dark eyes find mine and her smooth voice holds wonder in it. “It’s strange the nix would attack you. They usually bow to power. They’re attracted to it; captivated by it.” A line creases her brows. “The angel I met wasn’t like you. He knew exactly who he was. He was wise and knowing. Angels aren’t meant for this world.”
Her words set a heavy, turning feeling loose in my stomach.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m not meant for this world.
Ryder’s hand tightens on mine, and I peek up at him from beneath my lashes.
“The angel was able to clip his wings whenever he liked,” Mesa says.
“Clip?” Confusion fills my face as I stare up at her.
“That’s what he called it. He’d relax, calming every fiber of his being as he let his wings absorb into his body. This world isn’t kind to such delicate beauty. It can only get destroyed here.” She pauses as if she isn’t talking about wings at all. “So, he’d absorb them and their magic. They’d return the moment the angel needed them.”
“I can just clip my wings whenever I like?” I arch a brow at her and she shrugs.
“From my limited experience with the upper immortals, yes.”
Immortals.
Maybe I’m dreaming.
Or, better yet, perhaps I died back in that tower all that time ago when I first laid eyes on the Hopeless fae.
“Once you’re healed, use this powder. It’ll relax you and your wings. We’ll see if you’re a real angel or not.” Her eyes narrow on me, sinking right into me, probably trying to figure out if this mess of an angel really is anupper immortal.
Fuck, I hope not.
***
The moment the pink, fizzing drink hits my tongue it slides down my throat. It feels like my body’s consuming it long before it ever hits my stomach. I blink hard from the peculiar tingling feeling, but it tastes fantastic. Amazingly fantastic. It’s sweet but strong. I drink the whole thing without even pausing to take a breath. It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.
It numbs my lips on contact. It’s official; after one drink, I’m that girl that can’t feel her face.
Thank the gods, it numbs the pain shooting through my right leg as well.
“What’s this drink called?” I ask the bartender.
The pretty woman is the most interesting person I’ve ever laid eyes on. Shining eyes the color of whiskey smile back at me. Long, soft locks sway all the way down to her waist. Full lips pull up into a dazzling smile. But most interesting of all, white horns curl out from her head, parting her dark hair around the odd animalistic feature.
She’s beautiful and I try my best not to dwell on the oddity of her horns.
“It’s called Asinine. Strongest stuff we got. Do you like it?”
