Of Wings and Wolves (12 page)

“Feeble,” Abram echoed, arms folded across his chest. He was too muscular for his arms to sit flat, and he glowered like a storm on the verge of breaking.

“I did say somewhat less,” Nash said. “I assume you’re of this class, if you can ‘sense’ the presence of angels and kill on instinct. I would be fascinated to know more about the family that produced siblings such as you two.”

“You’re not the only one,” Summer said.

“Summer,” Abram said, indicating in one word that he wanted to speak to her privately.

She rose from the bed. “I’ll be back in a minute, Nash.”

He reclined against her wall, drawing one knee to his chest. “I’ll wait for you here,” he said with a small smile that made Summer think that his thoughts were much dirtier than hers.

Abram pulled her out of the room and shut the door, very loudly and very deliberately.

“You okay?” Summer asked. “I’m surprised you’re speaking to me today.”

He clenched his jaw and paced a few steps away before turning to face her again. “I killed something last night. I didn’t mean to turn my back on you, I just… I had to figure some stuff out. You still need to be careful. He wants something from you,” Abram said, gesturing at her bedroom door.

A flush of heat rolled through Summer as she thought of his fingers moving over her in the bath, and she suddenly couldn’t meet her brother’s eyes. “I know. But he needs me.” She held up a hand before her brother could explode. “He’s broken, and I think I’m his only chance at being fixed.”

“You can’t fix anyone who doesn’t want to fix himself first, Summer.”

“Thanks, doctor, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m serious. When he looks at you…he’s intense. And he’s an ancient being from an old world with powers we can’t imagine. The fact that he’s interested in you at all is worrying.”

She grinned. “Nonsense. He’s no match for me.”

“That, I believe,” he said. “Watch yourself. I’ll be watching you, too.”

“Thanks,” Summer said.

She planted a kiss on Abram’s cheek and went back inside.

Summer found Nash exploring her bedroom. Her TV was turned to a news channel, but muted. Nash stood in front of the doors with his hands folded behind his back and a pensive look.

“Sit down,” Summer said, kicking the door shut behind her.

He sat on her mattress as she indicated. She grabbed breakfast, sat next to him, and cut a piece of steak.

“I don’t eat,” Nash said, leaning away when she offered it to him.

“You don’t eat, or you can’t?” she asked, waving the fork in front of his mouth teasingly.

“Of course I
can
eat, you foolish woman, my digestive system is perfectly—”

While his mouth was open, she popped the fork into his mouth. A moment of anger clouded his eyes. Then he chewed once, and the anger quickly faded.

She grinned as he considered the food she had deposited on his tongue. “What do you think of it?”

“What in the seven Hells was that?” Nash asked.

“It’s called pan-seared steak,” Summer said. “A very nice cut cooked in butter, extremely tender, and just the right amount of fat.”

“You fed me animal flesh.”

“What, you’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

“I’m not an individual that eats food at all, strictly speaking. My body feeds on things that transcend mere food.” His eyes dropped to the plate. His lips twitched. “But perhaps I’ll try a second bite.”

Summer carved another small piece of steak and moved it toward his mouth. When he reached for the fork, she jerked it out of reach with a laugh. “Let me feed you!”

Nash’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“You took care of me when the balam sliced me up, so it only seems fair,” she said. “Even if you don’t need food to recover, let’s pretend that you do. I have to repay you for everything you’ve done for me somehow.”

“You’re a strange woman,” he said, but he obediently took the bite. Summer couldn’t help but watch very closely as his lips closed around the fork.

“So what do you eat? I mean, if you don’t need food…”

“Human brains,” Nash said once he swallowed.

She nearly choked. “What?”

“Ah, the look on your face. You’d believe anything I said, wouldn’t you?”

Summer ripped a pillow off the head of her bed and smacked him with it. The pillow bounced off of the back of his head. He didn’t look disturbed by her attempt at an attack, but his hair did stick up in the back, leaving him satisfyingly ruffled. And he was smiling, too—even better.

“I’m keeping the rest of this to myself,” Summer said, turning her back on him with the plate on her lap.

“I tease, but ‘brains’ is not far from the truth. Angels feast on human thought. The brilliance of inspiration. Scientists, artists, compassion and genius—this is the energy that sustains an angel. Simply being nearby is enough to keep our bodies functioning and whole.”

“So that’s why you started some big tech company and invest in universities,” Summer said. “You’re eating brains.”

“In a manner of speaking. I also treasure these values on a personal level. Were I human, I’m sure I would have made the same financial decisions I have now.” He leaned against her back and murmured into her ear. “Of course, if I were human, I would also not be so rich.”

She moved to take a bite, but his arm snaked around and plucked the fork from her grip.

“Hey!” she protested.

Nash smirked as he ate the steak. “Delicious.”

She successfully resisted the urge to smack him with the pillow again. “So how long have you been here, then?” Summer asked. “Margaret said that her grandmother was your maid.”

“Margaret talks too much,” Nash said.

“I think she loves you.”

Doubt flickered through his eyes. His fist closed around the fork. “She’s been loyal. Her family is invaluable.”

“So they’re just an asset to you? No way. I don’t think that’s true.”

He didn’t seem to like this line of conversation. He took the plate from her lap. “I don’t know how long I’ve been here, though I can tell you it has been a very long time.”

“Well, what year was it when you moved into that house?”

Now he looked annoyed. “I told you, I don’t know. Angels don’t mark time in the way that humans do. To me, last week is no different than the week that the sun formed from the dust in the void.” Nash set the tray aside and moved to her window. His hip leaned against the TV stand, and the news continued to play out silently behind him. “Some have said that angels possess the innocence and heartlessness of childhood for eternity. I’m not so optimistic. I believe that we’re soulless, more elemental than alive.”

“I don’t think you’re soulless,” Summer said, tracing the ridge of his knuckles with her fingertip. His fist was pressed to the wall beside the window, and his skin was smooth and perfect, so much paler than hers.

He opened his fist and laced his fingers with hers. “It feels as though I have slept for so many years, and only dreamed my suffering. Now that you are here…” His thumb rubbed over the back of her hand. “I’m awake for the first time since the war.”

Sir Lumpy slinked out from the shadows under the bed and attempted to jump onto the windowsill. It was too far for his aging girth to climb. His paws scrabbled uselessly against the wall.

Summer chuckled and picked him up, letting her cat puddle in her arms. He immediately flopped onto his back. His belly fluff spread against her chest.

“What is
that
?” Nash asked, recoiling.

“This is my one true love,” Summer said, tickling her fingers through his fur. “Nash, meet Sir Lumpy. Sir Lumpy, meet Nash.”

“Sir Lumpy.” He repeated it flatly, emotionlessly.

“I’ve had him since I could barely talk, and ‘lumpy’ was one of my first words. I don’t know why I thought he looked lumpy, but he definitely grew into the name. He lumps around the house like a pro.” A line of drool slid down Sir Lumpy’s face and left a dot on Summer’s shirt. “You want to pet him? He’s friendly.”

“No,” Nash said, “I think I’ll do without.”

She opened her mouth to accuse him of not being a cat person—one of the greatest crimes anyone could commit, as far as Summer was concerned—but then the news on the TV behind him caught her eye. The sleek Adamson Industries logo was being displayed in the background.

“Wait,” she said, leaning around him to unmute the TV.

The sound returned just in time for it to switch from the newsroom to a reporter standing outside the Adamson Industries building in Wildwood. Crews of news teams were crowded in front of the door behind her. “Adamson Industries released a statement today saying that Mr. Adamson, head of the company, has stepped aside to permit new leadership to take control.”

The camera switched to another angle of the building’s front steps. It looked like footage from earlier in the day, when a man in a suit held a press conference. Summer recognized his red hair and glasses. He was one of the men that had offered her the internship. He talked about fresh ideas, a “new direction” for the company, and changing CEOs.

She turned questioningly to Nash. The emptiness in his eyes was terrifying.

“Turn it off,” he said coolly.

Summer immediately hit the power button. “What’s going on? You didn’t step down from running your company, did you?”

“No,” Nash said. “I did not.”

ten

Summer had thought that her
life hit apex weirdness at about the time a sexy, winged billionaire saved her from creepy children with claws, but she had been wrong. It was
much
weirder to be in the back of a limousine with Nash and her entire family. Gran looked totally out of place in her overalls, and Abram just looked mad, because he hadn’t wanted to come along at all.

Summer ignored her brooding brother and focused on the news unfolding on the TV set into the mini bar. It didn’t look like there were any new developments. Just the same thing over and over: new direction, fresh leadership.

Gran opened the minibar, blocking Summer’s view of the news. She picked through the bottles. There was very expensive brandy and vodka in tiny bottles, and the sight of them seemed to displease her. “Never did trust a man that isn’t properly stocked on good beer,” she muttered.

“You don’t drink beer,” Summer said.

“I’ll drink anything when the situation calls for it.”

They finally reached the gates of the Adamson manor, and Nash threw his phone to the seat. “This is a joke,” Nash said. “I started this company hundreds of years ago. There is no line of succession. There is no
board
. There’s no way there could have been a vote to take the company in a new direction!”

“So it’s bad?” Summer asked.

His eyes flashed. “It’s bad.”

Margaret met them at the steps, just as Summer had hoped she would. She embraced the maid while Abram was still helping Gran out of the limo.

“Jesus,” Gran breathed, taking in the size of the manor on the side of the cliff, the lake below, the sweeping gardens.

“Did the shipment arrive?” Nash asked Margaret.

“Yes, sir. It’s in your office.”

“Make the guests comfortable,” he ordered, and then he rounded on Summer. “You’re coming with me.”

Abram looked like he wanted to protest, but Summer shot him a look that kept him silent. She left her family in Margaret’s capable hands and followed Nash inside.

“I’ve had the computers from the archaeological dig delivered here,” he said. “I need you to assemble them now.”

Summer frowned. “Wait, what about the takeover?”

“It will be addressed,” Nash said. “Trust me. But first things first.”

As promised, there were three large crates waiting in his office. The contents were mostly padding. She grounded herself and took all of the parts out of the boxes one by one, careful not to touch anything that looked delicate. When she was finished unpacking, the office was a delightful mess of computer organs—most of which she didn’t recognize.

Summer started trying to arrange things in a logical order, but some of the parts were so weird that she couldn’t begin to guess at their purpose.

“What
is
this?” Summer asked, turning the device over in her hands to peer at it closely. “These cables look like something out of a computer, but I’ve never seen a disc like this.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Nash said.

She held it up next to the memory drive in the bay of the computer. “I think it’s like the optical memory,” Summer decided. “I can work with this. Building computers isn’t my specialty, but it can’t be that hard, as long as I’ve got all of the pieces.”

“They delivered everything that we found. It should all be intact.”

“Then it’s just like a puzzle. Easy stuff,” she said. “Guess it’s time to earn my keep.”

She got to work. He lurked at the edge of the room as she began piecing things together, but Summer quickly lost herself in the task at hand and forgot he was there.

That port connected with this cable. This funny little plug fit into this socket. And all of these little metal frames—those were meant to hold this box, the disc thing, the circuit board. Some of the shapes reminded Summer of archaic computers that she had seen in her history of technology class, and everything fit together pretty well. But when she had run out of pieces to jam together and flipped the switch, nothing happened. Something was missing.

“What’s this for?” she asked, lifting a cable that extended from the back of the computer’s case.

“My engineers believe that it’s for conducting electricity,” Nash said, picking up the phone. “We may need a battery. I’ll contact my men.”

Summer kept fiddling with the computer, but there was nothing left for her to do with it. Three letters were stamped on the side of the brushed metal casing: “UKA.” She wondered what it meant.

After a few minutes, Nash hung up the phone.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, throwing some of the packing material back into the crates to clear a path to the door. “I have to make a trip to Wildwood to pick up the battery.”

Summer followed him out the door and down the stairs. There was no sign of Abram or Gran. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I thought you said we’d be safer all together. That’s the whole reason we came here.”