A pair of wings unfurled from his back. They were shaped like a dragonette’s, with translucent membranes stretched between a bony structure, but they were black and huge. The corn was pushed aside all around them.
Bare-chested and kneeling, his skin very pale where it wasn’t streaked with blood and with those magnificent wings outstretched, Carter had the look of a fallen angel.
But this was no time to admire him. Fen leaned in close, trying to see if he was still bleeding from where the wings had emerged, the folded coat ready in case he still needed it.
He recoiled from her. “Get away from me!”
“What? I need to check—”
He jumped to his feet and tried to back away, but the outspread wings caught in the corn stalks and held him in place.
“It’s all right—” Fen began, but he didn’t let her finish.
“It’s not all right!” he shouted. “Look at me!”
“Carter…”
“Look!” He ripped off his gloves and flung them to the ground. Carter bent his head, carefully touching his eyes. When he straightened, the contact lenses were gone. His eyes were wild, the irises flaring black and gray in stuttering flashes. He flexed his hands, displaying his claws.
“I’ll never be able to go out in public again.”
“Carter…”
His voice rose over hers. “I’ll have to hide inside so no one has to look at me, in a room without mirrors so I don’t have to look at myself!”
He sat down hard in the dirt and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders were shaking, and the delicate membranes of his batlike wings trembled. Precious nuzzled him and crooned, and Sugar jumped up on his knee and squeaked, but Carter didn’t even look at them.
Fen sat down beside him. She wanted to hold him, but in the state he was in, she knew he’d flinch away. She wanted to comfort him, but she wasn’t sure her reassuring words would sink in. And she worried that at any moment, someone might see a Porsche crashed in a corn field with its door open and come to investigate.
So she spoke in the voice she used to command a board meeting. “What’s more important to you, Carter? Looking pretty in a mirror, or me?”
That caught his attention. His head jerked up, and he stared at her with eyes that had shifted from the panic and despair and self-hatred of black and gray and orange to the brilliant yellow of surprise shading into the maroon of annoyance. He snapped, “Of course I care more about you.”
“Then we’re on the same page. I care more about you than about your reflection, too. So get up, put your coat back on, and get back into the car before someone shows up and sees your wings.”
His fists clenched. He took a deep breath, then another, forcing on self-control like a suit of armor. His eyes went gray, then a cool green. “Hand me my coat.”
He struggled for a minute, his wings flapping and fluttering, before he managed to fold them tightly to his back. With Fen’s help, he got his coat back on, though it bulged as if he was wearing a huge backpack under it.
Precious launched off the ground and landed on his shoulder. She rubbed her little head against his cheek and crooned. Automatically, Carter reached up and scratched her neck.
“See?” Fen said. “She cares aboutyou, not what you look like.”
Sugar scrambled straight up a corn stalk and leaped off the top of the ear. He skimmed lightly over the corn and landed on Fen’s shoulder. The sugar glider cocked his head and squeaked.
“Sugar thinks we should get out of here,” said Fen, deadpan. She grabbed Carter’s hand. “Come on.”
His hand was cold and shaking, but steadied as she held it tight.
“Did you let Precious out?” Carter asked.
Fen shook her head. “I think she knew you needed her, so she just… came.”
Carter stroked her. “Best dragonette.”
Fen took the driver’s seat and started the car up. Carter got into the passenger seat, pushed it all the way back, and leaned forward with his elbows on the dashboard.
“So much for Kerenza Couch and her magic itching powder,” he said glumly. “And I’d meant Ransom to be my last resort. I think Eunice is the only person who can fix me.”
