Pascal brightened up. "Oh yeah, you can fly! That's so cool! Come on, Florian, let's go. I want to see the look on Headmaster's face when Devereaux shows up."
But would Devereaux be okay carrying both of us after that fight?
"Are you hurt from the fight?" I asked him, reaching for his chest. There were light scratches against the stone. I didn't like knowing the weapons had left marks on him.
Devereaux smiled. "I am all right. The weapons grazed me, but I felt no pain. It was like being struck by a twig."
I let out a relieved laugh. "Oh, good."
But that left me with another burning curiosity. If the violent attacks only felt like being brushed by a twig, what about other kinds of sensations? How much warmth and pleasure could he feel? Was that dampened by his stone skin, too?
"Are you ready, Florian?" Devereaux asked.
I nodded. I'd think about that later. Right now the children needed us.
With Pascal in one arm and me in the other, Devereaux took to the air, beating his stone wings until we were whooping and laughing in the dawn-lit sky.
20
Devereaux
By the timewe reached the orphanage, the sun floated above the horizon, casting its rays of early morning light over the buildings. Both omegas grew quiet as we reached the place they used to call home. No doubt they were not looking forward to confronting this Headmaster person. I had never met her and I did not want to, given the horrible things she had done to both Florian and Pascal, but there was no avoiding a confrontation if she was still here. From their explanation of Headmaster, she seemed to be a cheap copy of a royal, using what power she had to reign over the people the ruled—those people being the omegas and the children.
Thinking about it angered me. How dare anyone treat my Florian that way?
I touched down on the front path and let Florian and Pascal down. Pascal sighed and stretched out his legs, but Florian did not move as he silently observed the orphanage.
"What is on your mind?" I asked.
He gave me a small smile. "A lot of things. Mostly that I'm glad you're here with me."
"Always."
He reached his small—flesh and blood, living,human—hand towards me. I hovered mine over it. As the sun's rays caught my claws, tiny specks of light flickered on the surface of my stone skin. I had never seen myself in the sunlight before. I had no idea I looked like anything other than a vague grey mass.
Florian noticed, too. He ran his thumb across the glimmering pinpricks and smiled up at me.
"Just like your eyes," Florian murmured.
If I could have blushed, I would have.
"Hey, I know you guys are in love and all, but can you do that later?" Pascal called from ahead.
We joined him at the front door. I assumed Pascal was going to knock but he pushed the door open and walked right in. Still holding my hand, Florian nodded to reassure me. I had to fold my wings back and duck my head to enter, otherwise my horns would have made holes in the door frame.
"Hey, Headmaster!" Pascal called, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice. "Come out here! We have a bone to pick with you!"
Florian frowned as he looked around. "I know it's still early, but where are the children?"
It did not surprise me that my sweet Florian was more focused on the children's safety than taking revenge on the woman who threw him into the street.
"I will help you look for them," I suggested.
"Thanks, Devereaux."
But we did not even reach the staircase. A woman appeared at the top of the stairs. Her lipstick was messy, as if applied in a hurry, and an overstuffed briefcase hung at her side. At the sight of us, her eyes narrowed into slits.
"What areyoudoing here?" she demanded.
