She buckled the belt atop the tan leggings, surprised at how her stomach felt less painful than it had a few minutes ago.
“There’s something here with us,” Vargr whispered sharply. She could see him standing over her, craning his neck back. “Somewhere above.”
“Crap.” The ceiling had holes, part had caved in, spilling plaster into the bedroom corner. Not all the floors in this building were separated by concrete. “If anything leaps down onto me, I will either A, scream or B, kill it with fire.”
“You can’t see in the dark though, can you?” His voice had risen in a distinct question—a pointed one.
“Only some.” The darkness was lighter than it had been. Had the moon slanted light down the hallway? No, her eyes must’ve adapted. The door to this apartment was in a line, opposite this bedroom door, and had long ago had its door torn off the hinges.
That door lay in the hallway, partly visible, and green.
She could see colors. The blue threads and dots swirling over his furled wings were always visible, but they twinkled.
“Humans can’t see much either, so maybe you are human?”
Am I?She shivered.This was surely good.Not that she’d been wondering, much.
Cyn rose to her feet, feeling the resilient mattress push up under her butt. “But you can.”
There was a faint scuttling, as if many legs were moving.
“Yeah. Beasters can.” Absentmindedly, he rambled through a list, “The foot-soldiers, the wing-soldiers, the biotechies, we all have nanomachines in our blood, and all of us can see in the dark.” With her following closely, he went into the living room entrance, drawing a huge pistol that’d been strapped to his righthip. The twin to it was holstered to his left. The marks on the pistol butt stood out clearly, as did the water-stained walls, the dangling light, the vanes of the wing feathers.
The pistol, wall, and light were not glowing like the motes and swirls. Shecouldsee in the dark—very well.
Should she lie again?
“You know,” she said nonchalantly, “I am seeing better.”
“Oh?” He twisted to look back at her.
Something clinked above their heads, and she reached and drew that second pistol while he was preoccupied. Heavy in the hand, and a revolver that used a large caliber, from the feel of it under her fingers.
“Hey. Put that back.” That was said softly, but with stern male authority to his tone.
“Moi?” Tenderly, she lifted it to brush the cold metal across her cheek, flicking off what appeared to be the safety.
The weapon felt good, smelled good.
Vargr, his neck twisted so as to get her in his focus, in the throes of an outraged stare, reached back with his unoccupied left hand to retrieve his gun.
She smirked and spun, standing back to ass with him, to face whatever foe might charge in, both her hands wrapped about the gun.
A few heartbeats passed, then he sighed heavily, but she could tell he’d faced away again. The unknown creature worried him more. “Do you even know how to shoot?”
“I could, I’m sure. I have once…”Upon a time.She was certain of this, but the precise occasion escaped her memory.
“You’d break your wrist when it fired.” He remained back to back with her. The noises lessened then stopped.
“Don’t bet on it.”
Silence out there.
Nothing moved or made noises except for a few insects and the building, which creaked and groaned and made her wonder how long a scraper lasted once the maintenance engineers ceased to monitor them. Not forever.
“Thought it might be stinkers, sent from above to retrieve you.”
“Stinkers?” His broad back, with the folded wings to either side, was warm and hard against hers. Reassuring. His butt was even warmer, stirring her below, in a way she was sure it hadn’t been stirred for a long time…
