Damsel[ed]: Some Rescue Required (#2 of the Damsel[ed] series)

Chapter Fifty-Four: Giving In

Poison.

Heaven crouches in the open for a moment, one hand punched into the floor, another twisting her hair around her fingers. "I-I'm sorry."

Cat crosses her arms and blows a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Yeah, cool. Sob story time." She leans back against a wall, shimmying her shoulders so that her hair falls the right way against her neck. Her whole presence feels like a distraction, her and the little girl, crouched over that wolf. 

All that matters is Heaven. Heaven and Dad and maybe Ceres, whose shuddering and blinking blankly, his shadow sinuous on the floor as he rocks on his knees. My heart twists in my chest, but my feet move forward, as if on their own accord. I'm working on autopilot now, my thoughts so scattered, a dull signal flashing in the back of my head reminding me of the pain, pain, pain ricocheted in my shoulders and back. Like an animal on the hunt, I let those thoughts fall away, all my senses attuned to her. The way she curls a strand of hair around her finger, the way she looks at the floor so blankly, tremors creeping into her forearms and shoulders. She draws in a shuddering gasp of a breath, rising with a low moan.

"Owl?"  Heaven poses the name like a question. She bounces on her toes like a fighter trying to conceal her moves from an opponent. Everything about her is wired, ready to pounce. Dad's hands are shoved into his pockets, and her surveys his reflection in one of the steel horizontal bars of a hanger. Then, with a practiced quiet, he slinks behind Ceres and hoists him to his feet. The brown-haired girl with the slurpee takes the moment to slip out the door, tin-can chimes battering the glass behind her. "Owl," Heaven says the name again, sharper. She stands on her tiptoes and brushes a strand of hair out of Ceres' eyes with a flick of her finger. "She's the threat now, and when we kick her butt—" she wheels toward Dad, who shrugs under her gaze "—I'm kicking his."

Ceres looks her up and down, his mouth drawing into a hard line. Even she doesn't seem so sure, scratching the back of her neck with a free hand, her head cocked to the side. His eyes are empty. He looks away while Dad looks up, wistful.

Then Ceres grumbles. "Owl, at least Angel, anyway, is headed north of here, sir." His head wilts down again, his posture slumping. I move down the floor, weaving into the empty center while Heaven huffs and turns on her toe like a dancer. She puffs up her chest, clutches a fistful of crumpled shirt and flings herself out of the store. She gives no one time to catch up, and Cat mutters "rude" under her breath, along with a grab-bag of colorful curses that makes Dad raise an eyebrow. Cat catches his eye and shrinks under his gaze. Good little henchman.

The wolf snuffs my wing. The touch of its cold nose sends a shock of pain through the broken limb and I bite back a scream. It looks up at me, the gold eyes making me flinch. I turn away and run after Heaven, and the others do, too. The urgency is back. If Owl's really making a move, then we're all screwed.

I'm the first to catch up to her, probably because I'm the most attuned. I failed to get Angelos first, but maybe I can still capture her. She ducks the opposite direction of the crowds, her curls  flowing out behind her like streamers. Her shoes slide on the oily ground, not quite going superspeed as she glides toward the dead end of a hall.

"Heaven!" I call after her, but I'm not fast enough. The ceiling's splintered, the gilded white material bashed in from old super fights. She whips around, crouching on her knees. I skid up to her, my shoes spinning out from under me in the sticky residue on the floor. She grabs me by my good wing, an arm wrapped around my waist for support. Her touch makes my legs jello, and I want to melt into her. I'm achy all over, and she combs her fingers through my broken wing, absently pushing bones back into place and tearing out feathers that have melted into wax. Her touch is urgent and insisting, her hands pushing through the holes in my wings. She cusses to herself. "If only I had a needle and thread, super glue, something..."