Wingless (26 page)

With powers I can use on Earth I'm unstoppable, untouchable, invincible. I reach my steady hand over my back and ruffle my dark black feathers.
 

That Archer just handed over his wings like they were nothing. He hand delivered his powers into my body for a girl. A barely Nephalem girl. The Angels are more human than they think.
 

If I have to kill them, too, then so be it. My wives will support me. My followers will support me After all, Earth is only the pit stop before I burn down the Upper Veil and all those who live there.

Soon, I will rule it all.
 

Acknowledgements

First of all, I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read WINGLESS. This was a book that I could not write fast enough. I loved creating the worlds in WINGLESS and I hope that you enjoyed them, too.

And don't worry. There's more of Annie and Micha in the next installment, BOUNDLESS!

Please, if you have a space moment, leave a rating or review on Amazon, Goodreads, or wherever you found this book. I love all the feedback and read every single one.

I want to give a special thank you to my husband, of course. He was actually a big part of creating this book. We bounced ideas off each other and it was very rewarding seeing the book come together.

My beta readers, Christine and Laura, you guys rock! This book moved fast and we hit the ground running once I finished my first draft. You were awesome, rolling with the punches, and you're feedback was superb.

Thank you Danielle, from Prose and Cons editing. Not only did she do a phenomenal job editing this novel, and doing it really fast for me, but she created the cover for me!
 

And lastly, thank you to everyone who has continued to support me in writing. I love creating books, and because you all buy and read them, I can continue! I appreciate my blog followers the most because you're constantly reading, commenting, and participating in all of my posts. You rock!!
 

Books by Taylor Lavati

The Curse Books

The Thousand Year Curse

The Curse of Betrayal

The Broken Curse (Late 2014)

A Reliant Love

Wingless Series

Wingless

Boundless (Early 2015)

Thank you for taking the time to read WINGLESS! Enjoy a free excerpt from my novel, THE THOUSAND YEAR CURSE!

CHAPTER ONE

high school hell

I pull in a ragged breath, hoping to regain my composure, but it's no use. My heart races and spots blur my vision, making me stumble out of the bathroom. I collapse onto my bed and the chills take over, racking my body in long tremors of terror.

With numb hands, I reach towards my nightstand for my cell phone, needing my crutch. I send out a quick SOS text and pray that Junior is awake.
 

Shooting pain travels up my chest, making my short breath even shorter. With a lack of oxygen, I start fearing that I might pass out and the full on panic starts to bleed through me.

"What's wrong?" A worried voice rings out in the room seconds later. My vision is still spotty, but I'd know that voice anywhere.

"I can't—" I start to say, but I don't have enough breath to even complete a damn sentence. I'm frustrated with myself for letting the panic take over me again so I start banging my fists on the bed, hating this empty person I've become.

"Shh. I've got you now, Ryder." Junior soothes me, holding me tightly in his arms so I can't break free. I try to fight him for a second but eventually melt into his arms loving the comfort he continuously brings me.
 

Whenever he comes to my rescue like this, it brings me back to my first panic attack about two years ago. I used to be this bubbly, outgoing, typical popular girl in school, but then one day, my life turned upside down.

My best friend, Becca, screwed me over. She spread nasty rumors about me to the entire school, turned all of our friends against me, and left me to rot on the gym floor. If it weren't for Junior finding me curled up in the fetal position, I would have stayed there paralyzed all day.

I'll never forget the way he stood by me, no matter what people said. He took the heat along with me and has been an outcast ever since. The only difference is that he genuinely doesn't give a shit and moved on, making new friends who also have the same I-don't-care attitude.
 

He could care less what Becca or Kevin, the school power couple, think. He could careless if they call him an emo kid for his colored mohawk or a band geek for playing the drums.

Whereas I let the torture sit inside of me and eat me from the inside out. Is it so bad to want to be included and have friends? I don't think so, but through the past few years, I've learned a lot—never trust anyone.
 

After I'm quiet and coming down from the panic attack, Junior lets me go. I rub my arms up and down, the chills still present in the background, but no longer a contributor to my pain.
 

"I'm sorry," I tell Junior, hating how he has to come to my aid all of the time. I definitely feel like I hold him back, but I have to be selfish—I need him to get through these.

"Don't apologize. I don't mind," he says, grabbing my desk chair and sitting himself down on the comfortably across from me. He knows the drill by now and if that attack shows anything, it's that the night is going to be a long one.

"I hate that they're starting up again," I say, burrowing my head into my hands, hoping that I can just crawl into a dark hole and never come out.

"It's just because you're nervous about tomorrow," he says, "After that, I'm sure they'll fade away again. You just have to know you're okay. I'm here for you," he says, rolling over to me and making me look up at him.

"Okay," I say, not really convinced.

"I know when you're bullshitting me," Junior says when I roll my eyes in his direction. He tackles me onto the bed, pulling his hand up my side to tickle me. He starts a war and a few minutes later, I can barely breathe—but this time for a good reason.

We end up watching reruns of
The Walking Dead
in each other's arms, but it's exactly what I need the night before the start of my senior year. I fall asleep in the crook of his neck, but my sleep is far from sweet. I've been having bizarre dreams night after night that leave me restless.
 

Sept 1

Something is wrong with me. Strange things are starting to happen.
 

I don't understand it. I can't tell anyone.

I can't tell my dad. He doesn't even know about the bullying at school.
 

He'll make me see a therapist and I can't go there.
 

Yesterday, I shut my laptop and the screen cracked in half.

It's not like I slammed it.
 

I just pushed the top down and the corner shattered.
 

That night at dinner I put a plate on the table and it crumbled into pieces.
 

Dad thought I dropped it—I couldn't tell him the truth.

What's happening to me?

It's Monday morning, the start of my senior year, and I have no idea how I am going to make it. I'm dreading seeing students and teachers. I'm dreading my classes. Everything about today scares me to my core.
 

Anxious butterflies stick in my throat like cotton as I think about the day and what it entails. I'm pretty sure that by the end of the day I may throw them up.
 

High school is supposed to be the best years of my life, yet it has become the polar opposite. I'm not sure why I'm freaking out, because I don't think I can drop any lower in the social hierarchy of high school—even if I tried. Plus, I should be used to this kind of treatment by now.

Grabbing my backpack off of my neat bedroom floor and my keys off of my desk, I glance at my cracked laptop screen, hating whatever has been going on with me. I stop at the door to give myself a last glance in my full-length mirror. Today I am going for invisible—my usual ensemble.
 

My brown hair hangs at my waist. I don't even bother to style it anymore, since the long locks are straight all by themselves. I have the barest amount of makeup on—just some eyeliner and mascara, since my eyes are my best feature.
 

People are constantly telling me how cool they are. To be honest, my eyes annoy the crap out of me. Sometimes they're green, sometimes they're blue. They change with the weather, or my mood. Sometimes even my outfit affects them. It's stupid. Why can't they just pick a color and stick with it? My eyes makes me different which I don't like.
 

I fix my button up shirt so it lays flat against my stomach. I'm not fat, but I'm not skinny either by any means. I'm pretty average. A little short, but a normal weight—normal me.
 

I'm wearing my favorite pair of skinny jeans. They have a little bit of yellow paint on them from when I painted my room over the summer. The paint makes them seem cool, or so I think.
 

I'll go for the artistic effect, which is pathetic because I don't have an artistic bone in my body. In fact, I'm not good at anything. Not sports, instruments, or anything that requires a skill.
 

I used to run a lot to clear my head. I never ran track or anything. I did it mostly for myself. The past couple of months, running has been the last thing on my mind. I just don't feel motivated anymore.
 

Clearing my head, I scurry down the stairs, jumping over the last two. I smile when I make a perfect, yet noisy, landing at the bottom. Nobody's home, so I can act like a ten-year-old if I want to.
 

I grab an apple along with the bag lunch my dad left me from the kitchen and hurry out the front door. I spot my little Honda Accord sitting in the driveway looking all old and decrepit. I've beat this baby up, but the car gets me from point 'a' to point 'b' so I can't complain. The exterior is purple with a little bit of rust lining the edges. I change the oil every four thousand miles, though, so it runs like it's brand new.
 

Since I am running a little late, I assume Junior caught the bus. He didn't show up here for breakfast, which is a good sign he's gone. He's more or less my neighbor, which is how we originally met.
 

My dad was alone with me when they first moved here. I think he felt bad when I never had play-dates, so we went over to welcome them. Junior's dad and mine actually hit it off. It ended up that Junior and I became best friends, too. We've all been a second family to each other ever since.
 

As I pass his house, I spot his mom, Janie, sitting on the stoop with her morning coffee. It gives me confidence to see her in the exact same place she is every morning. It almost makes it feel like summer isn't over, that it's just another day. I wave out my window in greeting.

"Hi, Janie!" I call out as I slow the car to a stop in front of her mailbox.

"Hey, honey! How you feeling?" she asks, her eyes skeptical yet proud as they roam my face. Janie's always thought of me as her own. Since I met her, she's had a big influence on my life since she's the only woman in it.

"Eh. Junior catch a ride?" I ask, her raising my voice over the hum of my car.
 

"He jumped on the bus. I told him to give you a break today," she says, giving me a knowing smile and a slight wink.
 

"Thanks, Janie. See you later!" I start rolling up the window.

 
"Have a good day!" She adds, waving with the morning paper in her hand. I love this woman as if she was my own mother. At times, she is.
 

School is only about an eight-minute drive, depending on traffic. Today is a perfect day, so there aren't many cars around. I hit almost every single light, though, making me frustrated—so much for being invisible today. I can't hide when I'm running into class late, causing a scene.
 

I curse myself for running late. Then I curse the lights. Stupid traffic lights are messing with me today. I bang my hands on the steering wheel and the light actually changes. Wow, that's lucky. I was about to break my steering wheel in half if that thing had stayed red another second.

I park my car in a decent spot, which is surprising since the first bell already rang. If there's one thing I can count on, it's that time doesn't stop for anyone.

I reach for my iPhone off of the passenger seat and plug in my headphones. Nothing like some Secondhand Serenade to calm my first day jitters. I blast "Fall For You"
to tune out the world around me before slamming my door shut. I take a deep breath to try and calm myself as I head towards the big brick building.