Micah

I can see her kneeling by one of the gravestones, her black wings shimmery against the storm clouds that layer the sky. A gust of wind lifts a few tendrils of her long almond hair.

“Talia,” I say softly so as not to scare her.

She doesn’t react. The wind sweeps past the medieval gravestones as the branches of the old oak tree move like enormous limbs.

“Talia,” I say louder.

She turns her head to me, her eyes wide. Tears trickle down her pale cheeks. “They’re whispering, Micah. They’re whispering horrible things.”

Anger wells up in my chest. Ghosts have been whispering to Talia her whole life, never giving her a moment of peace. Now, at the age of eighteen, she’s just the tormented shadow of a girl.

“If I could, I’d kill them all, baby girl,” I say as a sharp pain squeezes my heart.

Talia grabs her head in both her hands and sobs as I stride towards her, my boots sinking into the moss covering the ground.

A snap of lightning crosses the sky as I lean over her and hook her under her arms. She feels so light and fragile, my poor little treasure.

“They told me some powerful being would come for me,” she gasps as her face turns white—it’s almost a corpse-like whiteness.

I scoop her up in my arms, her wings sweeping the autumnal leaves away from the gravestones.

“Ignore them,” I say with anger.

The ghosts started whispering this message to her about a year ago. I don’t know why. None of us knows why. Neither Rive, nor Kadmiel. Not even Adva we asked for a piece of advice.

I’m Talia’s only relief. My presence seems to calm the voices in her head.

When she was a little girl, she demanded that I played with her. I taught her the basics of fighting with a sword. I taught her maths. I was her one and only friend. I still am.

The wind smacks us like an enormous palm and lifts the light fabric of her pale blue dress, exposing her slim white thighs. She doesn’t pay attention, but I do. I noticed her thighs a few months ago. I also noticed her full lips and perfect breasts. I drown into her black eyes each time our glances meet. I shouldn’t, but I do.

I approach my motorcycle parked by the metal fence that encircles the graveyard and sit Talia onto it.

“Hide your wings, baby girl,” I say.

Her big eyes glance up at me as her long eyelashes flutter and her wings disappear with a rustle.

I jump on the bike as Talia wraps her arms around my chest, her fingers digging into my flesh.

“Hold on to me, baby girl.” I rev up the engine. “We’re going home.”

We ride for two hours then I stop at the front door of our clubhouse and scoop Talia up into my arms. Her fingers clutch the edges of my leather cut, and she buries her face into my neck. Her hot breath sends heat into my dick. It shouldn’t, but it does each time I carry her like this. I kick the door open with my boot and step inside. Kadmiel rises from the black couch.

“One package safely delivered home, Prez,” I say.

“Where did you find her?” Kadmiel asks.

His face doesn’t betray any emotions but I know he’s very worried about Talia.

“In the graveyard,” I say, “as always. Any news from Theo?”

Theo left the compound five months ago and decided to travel for a while. He calls twice a month to report to us that he’s still alive. I’ll fucking break all his limbs when I see him. We need numbers in the compound and the dick is on a fucking vacation.

“Nope,” Kadmiel says as I put Talia on the couch.

An eerie breeze brushes against the back of my neck. A breeze that carries the oscillations of old magic. The hairs on my back rise. I steel myself as do Talia and Kadmiel. The door swings open and Theo tumbles in.

“What the fuck?” I growl as my arms collapse. “You fucking dick. I’ll—“

Another person walks in. It’s a woman, but not a human woman for sure. Her face is strangely familiar to me but I can’t recall whether we’ve met or not. She belongs to a species I’ve never seen before.

“Theo,” Kadmiel says sharply. “What the fuck? No strangers in the compound, remember?”

I bring my fists up to my chest, my eyes fixed on the woman. The atmosphere thickens as I sense Kadmiel’s warrior blaze inside of him. Talia straightens in the couch and brings her fists up to her chest, which causes a half-smile to play on the woman’s lips. I could have sworn the alien bitch is having fun at our expense.

“Prez, I can explain,” Theo says. “This is my wife.”

“Your wife?” Kadmiel says with a high-pitched crack in his voice. “She looks like a fucking elf, that wife of yours.”

Another figure walks in, and my eyes fix on a tall man. But he’s not a human. His name wavers in my head even though I can’t recall any details of our meeting if there was any.

“Ettrian,” I say. “You’re Ettrian.” It just rolls off my tongue.

The man bows his head at me as Theo’s jaw drops.

“You know him?” Theo asks.

Images flash through my head—the curse, the Kluddes, Ettrian and S’Ylla. I open my mouth, but Ettrian shakes his head, giving me a clear sign to keep quiet, so I don’t reveal my thoughts.

“No,” I say instead. “We’ve never met. But that name suits him, so I thought he must be Ettrian.”

The images of my past are now flashing through my head like a slideshow. Talia pregnant with Theo. Theo’s death. My ghost-like appearance in the far past.

A thought blasts in my head. This is not my past. This should be my future. Fuck. I don’t know what this is. Theo is alive. I killed him, but he’s alive. I can see him with my own eyes. No, I will kill him tomorrow.

No, I won’t kill him. It’s fucking crazy.

I jerk my body towards Theo, but Ettrian bows his head at me once more, stopping me.

I won’t kill Theo. I won’t fucking kill my club brother.

“Like I said,” Theo continues. “I’m a married man now and this elf, who’s also my brother-in-law, is going to be a prospect.”

Theo is married. Fuck, like really married. He looks happy. More than that, he looks like he’s in love with S’Ylla. Good. Maybe we won’t clash. Maybe everything will be alright.

I nod to my own thoughts and Ettrian grins at me. Grins are good. Ettrian is here to help. He must be here to help.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kadmiel says. “They are no elves. There are no elves on earth. And we don’t enrol.”

Ettrian steps towards Talia.

“Back the fuck up,” Kadmiel growls, obstructing Ettrian’s way with his arm.

“They look like good people,” I say, my mind hazy.

I feel anxious then exhausted. Relieved and nervous again. There is more and more of a fog in my mind.

“He can help Talia,” Theo says. “Trust me, Prez. Ettrian and S’Ylla are real elves. And they really want to help.” He grabs S’Ylla’s hand and kisses her wrist.

I want to puke, but if Theo is happy, I can be happy for him too.

“You can trust those people, Prez,” I say.

My inner former angel tells me the elves are on our side—it’s crystal like water; it’s sitting on the edge of my consciousness, it’s strong like previously when Kadmiel decided to make Rive his. I knew something good would come out of it. I know something good will come out of the elves’ arrival at our compound too.

“How do you know that, huh?” Kadmiel snaps.

“I just know,” I say. “Trust me. They’re really good people. They will help our Talia.”

“If you’re saying so,” Kadmiel mutters.