A Game of Wings and Marks Read online

  A Game of Wings and Marks

  Rebecca Crunden

  Copyright ©2017 Rebecca Crunden

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be duplicated in any form without the written permission of the author, except in cases of brief quotations for reviews.

  ISBN-10: 1548194581

  ISBN-13: 978-1548194581

  Edited by Daniela Tarlton-Rees

  Cover by Garrett Leigh @ Black Jazz Design

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Watcher’s Wings

  The scene was something out of a nightmare: a figure in a clearing covered in blood. Two deep gashes parallel to his spine bled profusely, staining his skin, drying in some places, congealing in others. There were scraps of burned and destroyed fabric still clinging to his body, but nothing that offered any indication as to what he might have been wearing or who he might be.

  A sudden snapping sound, followed closely by the heavy breaths of someone approaching at a run, ripped through the silence of the forest.

  An enemy?

  The figure’s hands curled into fists and he straightened up as best he could, which, considering his injuries, was not very straight at all. If it was an enemy, or worse yet one of his siblings, he was dead.

  But it was neither. Out of the forest ran a dog. A golden creature with a tail that wagged ecstatically, unbothered by the sight of blood and sinew.

  A woman appeared seconds later.

  She stopped abruptly at the sight of the figure and her hand went to her mouth. ‘Oh my God,’ she cried, ‘are you okay?’

  ‘Help me,’ he said. ‘Please.’

  ‘What happened?’

  He stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. Inverted, beautiful eyes. Black with white irises.

  ‘Tell no one,’ he said.

  And then he doubled over.

  The woman darted to catch him. Her hands accidentally pressed into the wounds on his back and he roared in anguish.

  ‘I’m sorry!’ she yelped. ‘Jesus Christ! Who did this to you?’

  But he was beyond coherency, and she got no answers.

  _________________

  It took Octavia Coal almost an hour to heave the bleeding man to the trailhead. The snow fell with increasing intensity, making it impossible to see the path ahead, and she was glad Cleo was with her. Her dog led the way back, barking loudly, as she lugged the stranger along.

  He hadn’t spoken once on the way down the mountain, and the blood did not seem to be clotting. She was almost soaked with it.

  When they finally reached the car, she opened the door awkwardly, propping him up against the side.

  Cleo jumped into the backseat as Octavia tried to manoeuvre the stranger into the car without injuring him further. With effort, wincing all the while, she managed to get him inside.

  He hadn’t shown any sign of awareness since he’d collapsed, but when she leaned back, his hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist.

  His grip was so powerful she thought her bones would shatter.

  She froze, eyeing him uncertainly. His eyes were completely disarming.

  There was absolutely nothing human in them.

  ‘Hey,’ she said with forced calm. ‘My name’s Octavia. I’m going to help. I’ll take you to —’

  ‘No one can know.’

  Her heart hammered in her chest. ‘Look, gangrene is not worth it.’

  His grip felt like stone and his accent wasn’t one she recognised. ‘They’re coming,’ he said. Lilted and soft, the words tripped together into a near melody. ‘Don’t linger.’

  A shiver went down Octavia’s spine. ‘Who?’

  ‘Please,’ he said unhelpfully. ‘Somewhere safe.’

  ‘I’ll help you if you let go.’

  The stranger released her instantly. His eyes closed; sweat poured out of his skin. Skin that was much too unreal.

  Octavia climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled out onto the main road away from the mountain. Her heart would not stop hammering and she was twitchy with anxiety.

  There was no one else on the road, but even still Octavia found herself glancing in the rear-view mirror every few seconds. Having a bloodied man in the backseat of her car not going towards a hospital would raise a few questions.

  She also couldn’t shake the feeling that whoever, or whatever, that had attacked him might even be following them now.

  She pulled out her phone and dialled Caleb’s number, tapping the steering wheel anxiously with her thumb.

  Her big brother, and only friend, Caleb was the one she went to for everything. He had held her hair back through her first hangover and took her to get an abortion when she was sixteen; if she’d killed someone, he would help her bury the body. Calling him about the non-human in her backseat was only natural.

  When he answered, it was with one of his usual tangents: ‘Do you think television’s improved or am I simply so brainwashed it’s all an acceptable level of terrible? Honestly, I’m appalled. But I’m more appalled by how unappalled I am.’

  Octavia took a deep breath. ‘Cale, I need you to get all the medical supplies you can and meet me at the farm.’

  The banter vanished, and his next words were loud with worry. ‘What the fuck? Why? Are you hurt?’

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s not for me.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Just hurry. And bring food.’

  Caleb snorted. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘No,’ she promised. ‘There’s a man in my backseat. I found him on the mountain. He looks like Hannibal Lecter had a crack at him.’

  ‘They have hospitals for that.’

  ‘Can’t go to a hospital.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I’m pretty sure whoever it was is still after him.’

  ‘Jesus Christ, this is like a horror movie. Okay. I’m on my way.’

  It took her another twenty minutes to reach her grandparents’ farm. As they lived in Thailand for six months out of the year it was completely abandoned now that winter was well settled in. There would be no one to bother them.

  She drove up to the side door and hurried inside. She flicked on all the lights in the house and clicked the heating on. The windows had a layer of frost which began to shrink as the warmth spread from grumbling radiators.

  When she returned to the car, Octavia found the man barely conscious. He had bled through the towels and onto the seat.

  She pulled him gingerly out of the car. Her grandfather’s wheelchair from when he broke his leg proved the best solution to getting the stranger inside the house. She wheeled him into the downstairs bathroom and then lugged him into the large shower.

  Octavia removed her shoes, socks and coat before stepping in after him and turning the water on. She took the showerhead down and ran the water over him. With thick layers of muck and grime coating him, it was impossible to tell the extent of his injuries.

  ‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

  He was so dazed with pain that she had to repeat the question seven times before he understood.

  ‘Tamiel.’

  The effort of saying even that seemed to drain him and he said nothing else.

  She was nearly done cleaning his wounds when she heard the front door slam and Caleb called her name. She yelled back, and he followed the trail of blood into the bathroom.

  ‘Jesus!’

  Octavia stared at the wounds, heart hammering. ‘Do they — do they look like they might have been wings
or am I completely out of my mind?’

  Making a face, he walked over and bent down, narrowing his eyes. ‘I mean — maybe.’

  They exchanged curious looks before they lifted Tamiel off the ground and out of the shower. With Caleb’s help, she got Tamiel into a pair of trousers and then kept him from falling over as Caleb treated and bandaged his back as best he could.

  ‘He really ought to see a doctor,’ said Caleb when he finished. ‘That is like two hours from becoming a nasty infection. I don’t think skin can just … grow over holes. Can it?’

  Octavia tried not to gag at the mental picture those words conjured.

  She gently lowered Tamiel onto the bed and placed a blanket over him before following Caleb out of the bedroom.

  After changing into dry clothes, she joined him at the table, tiredly playing with the burger he’d brought her.

  ‘Who did he say was after him?’ asked Caleb. ‘Or, more disturbingly, what?’

  Octavia shook her head. ‘He wasn’t specific.’

  ‘You realise he could be a serial killer.’

  ‘Please, he looks like he’s nearly been serial killed.’

  ‘That is not a saying.’

  ‘You get my point, Cale.’

  He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. ‘And do you get mine?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, mostly to pacify him. ‘It’s good I’ve got my big brother here, isn’t it?’

  Caleb rolled his eyes in exasperation. ‘Did you even get his name?’

  ‘Tamiel.’

  ‘Is that Hebrew?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Caleb scratched the side of his face, thinking hard. ‘He looks like he was tortured.’

  ‘I was thinking that.’

  They eyed each other before Caleb nodded. Without another word, he began walking around the house double-checking every lock and window until he was satisfied everything was secured. Kissing Octavia’s forehead, he bid her goodnight and wandered down the hall to the spare bedroom.

  Equally as exhausted, Octavia dropped down onto the sofa and turned the television on. Leaning back against the cushions, her mind too heavy with sleep to process any coherent thoughts, she took a few half-hearted bites of her burger.

  Sometime between the programme and the commercial break, Octavia succumbed to sleep, the half-eaten burger still in her hand.

  She awoke to the sound of Caleb making breakfast in the kitchen. Her head felt foggy and her skin clammy. With a grunt, she shuffled into the kitchen and dropped into one of the chairs.

  ‘Coffee,’ she mumbled. ‘So much coffee.’

  Caleb slid a cup over to her and then went back to making eggs. The food smelled amazing and her stomach growled. She’d missed his cooking.

  ‘I’m not sure how I feel about leaving you here alone with him,’ he said.

  ‘I think I can take him,’ said Octavia. ‘He’s missing half his back.’

  Caleb grimaced. ‘Fine. I’m leaving work early. And call me if you for one second have any reason to worry.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Promise me.’

  ‘I promise.’

  Mollified, he passed her a plate and they ate in weary silence.

  After breakfast, Caleb left for work and Octavia took a shower before heading back in to check on Tamiel.

  His black eyes snapped open the moment she entered, appraising her with a sharp, calculating gaze. He lay prone, and still in obvious agony, but as wary as he was, he seemed preoccupied by something.

  ‘Here,’ she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding the glass out to him. ‘Figured you’d need it.’

  Tamiel sat up with a wince. He drank the contents of the glass before holding it back out to her. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I am eternally grateful to you for your kindness.’

  Octavia smiled. ‘It’s no big deal.’

  ‘It is,’ he insisted. ‘You risked your life by helping me. I will never forget that.’

  Her stomach twisted at his words and she looked over at the door. ‘Who’s coming after you?’

  ‘The Irin.’ He moved heavily to his feet, unable to even straighten up. ‘I must go. They will find me soon.’

  ‘Wait,’ she protested. ‘You can’t go anywhere like this. You’re about three seconds away from collapsing.’

  ‘I am not the only one in danger.’

  ‘Someone else is going to get fucking butchered?’

  He nodded grimly. ‘I have to go. Now.’

  ‘Right,’ she said, heart pounding as her mind spun ahead with the possible outcomes of her snap decision. ‘If you can give me directions, I’ll drive.’

  ‘You’re going to help me?’ Tamiel was noticeably surprised. ‘Why would you do that?’

  Octavia shrugged. It just felt like the thing to do. There was no rhyme or reason to it past that.

  ‘Get a coat,’ she said instead. ‘It’s snowing outside.’

  ‘The cold doesn’t bother me.’

  ‘Well, seeing you without a coat is going to bother me.’

  She found him some of Caleb’s old clothes and before long they were in her car, driving onto the dirt road which led away from the farm. The sunlight glittered off the snow, making the morning feel kinder than it was.

  Tamiel sat stiffly beside her, trying not to lean back against the seat.

  ‘Whatever reason they had for doing that,’ she said, ‘it doesn’t matter. There’s no excuse for it.’

  Tamiel’s jaw clenched and he didn’t look at her. ‘It was to teach me a lesson.’

  ‘What kind of lesson were they trying to teach you?’

  ‘Not to disobey. Turn here.’ Tamiel waved at a side road and Octavia turned, heading south. ‘Take the next right.’

  The sides of the road were thick with trees and the ground was heavily blanketed by snow. Everything was various shades of white and brown and grey.

  Octavia glanced at Tamiel. ‘I know you don’t know me, and I know I’m a stranger, but I figure since I’m helping you, perhaps you might tell me at least a little of what’s going on?’

  He bowed his head. ‘I suppose that’s fair. What would you like to know?’

  Octavia’s grandmother had once told her she had all the tact and subtlety of a brick to the face. The next words out of her mouth only confirmed her grandmother’s worst fears: sheer tactlessness. ‘Did you have wings?’

  Tamiel looked over at her. ‘You noticed.’

  ‘Kind of hard not to.’

  ‘Turn here.’ He tapped his finger on the window.

  Octavia turned down another road. Where they were going was unclear. The snow fell with increasing ferocity and it was decern much of anything beyond the window. She hated driving in this weather, but the thought of leaving someone else to face the horror which had been inflicted upon Tamiel made her fears seem insignificant.

  ‘Are you an angel?’ she asked, wondering if that sounded as stupid to him as it did to her.

  ‘More or less.’

  ‘What’s the more?’

  ‘I am akero. But you would know me as an angel. To humans, it’s the same.’

  She nodded several times, trying to process this. ‘And we’re going towards a …’

  ‘Human.’

  ‘Right.’ Octavia pursed her lips in thought. ‘Tamiel?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Can I have a little bit more to go on, please?’

  Tamiel nodded, but he seemed distracted. ‘We are going to Brickwell. Do you know it?’

  ‘The town? Sure.’ Now that she had a direction, she felt somewhat less disorientated. ‘Who’s in Brickwell?’

  ‘Jack Cohen.’

  ‘A human?’

  ‘A college student.’

  ‘I would’ve thought a priest.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You said you were an angel.’

  ‘Most of our human contacts are not religious. Nor, I might add, are akero. Only some. As with all creatures.’

  Octavia
raised an eyebrow. ‘So what are your human contacts?’

  ‘Believers. But not all believers are religious.’

  It seemed unlikely that she was going to get anything else out of him, so Octavia turned on the radio and said nothing until she finally saw the exit for Brickwell and turned off the main road. The thick trees which lined the road gave way to fields covered in snow and farmhouses with smoke billowing out of the chimneys; soon enough houses cropped up more frequently, and then shops. Signs for the college directed them through the town.

  ‘These guys that are coming after you — and Jack — are they, like, angels also?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Tamiel directed her through the streets until they pulled up in front of a perfectly ordinary looking apartment complex. He reached for the door handle and Octavia caught his hand.

  ‘Stay here,’ she said. ‘You’re no help if you’re falling over. Just tell me which room number.’

  ‘Twenty,’ he said. ‘And hurry.’

  ‘That’s sort of like “thank you”,’ she mumbled. ‘You’re welcome.’

  She clambered out of the car and into the freezing morning air. Her nose and ears began to ache.

  With a quick look around to see if anyone had followed them, she darted over to the side of the building and clicked on the buzzer. After a few moments, the speaker crackled.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Is this Jack?’ she asked, crossing her arms to ward against the cold.

  ‘Who’s this?’

  They were all as friendly as each other, then. She wondered who the Irin were to make them so on edge.

  ‘Look, your friend Tamiel’s in my car and he’s been fucked up, so you might want to get your shit and get down here,’ she said. ‘And bring a coat. It’s fucking cold.’

  There was a long pause and then, ‘I’ll be two minutes.’

  Octavia jogged back to the car and clambered inside, placing her hands against the vents to warm them. ‘He’s coming,’ she said to Tamiel. ‘What does a college student have to do with your wings?’

  ‘Everything.’

  She waited for him to continue but he said nothing else. Intrigued, she looked over at the front door.