The Devil's Wolf

Her wings opening was just as painful as it looked when Cael did it, and the tone of her scream changed from terror to pain. For a moment, the sails of flesh and feather fought the drag of gravity and it seemed to be a losing battle before the descent evened out, making her gasp, and pulling painfully against her shoulder blades that already protested under the new extension of bone and sinew.

An up-current of air caught her, slamming her into the glass windows of the building, knocking the breath out of her, the glass shuddering under the impact, and reminding her of the many times she had seen pigeons collide into windows, knocking themselves senseless, or breaking their necks.

Cael's derisive laughter made her realize that he had not left her to fall alone, as he peeled her off the glass. "A natural flyer, you are not," he mocked her, holding her waist, and using his wings to direct them both in a slow descent to the rooftop of a lower building. "There you go," he said as her feet found purchase on the rooftop.

"Oh my god," her heart was beyond racing, it was thudding so fast in her chest that one beat melted into the next. She braced her hands on her knees, bending over at the waist, trying to regain her breath. "Oh, my f-king lord." Her wings were a heavy counterbalance, dragging her equilibrium back and forcing her to use her core muscles. She understood why Cael's stomach definition was so edibly good. Her shoulders and back already complained about the unfamiliar and sudden change in distribution of weight, and she had not built up the core strength to compensate.

"I have f-king wings," she exclaimed, astounded curling them around her shoulders so she could scrutinize the feathers. "Black ones, like my mum," that pleased her. "And I am so going to need a massage. My mother never mentioned how f- king heavy these things are."

"Falling never fails," he was pleased with himself, smug with it. "The feather colours are hereditary," he added conversationally. "Like hair and eye colour, so it makes sense that you would have black wings like your mother."

"You pushed me off a twenty-eight-storey building," she accused him without heat because he had immediately leapt after her in order to catch her should her wings not open, and answered the question, she decided, of his commitment to her.

"It wasn't as high as I would have liked," he looked up at the building. "The timing was quite tight."

She threw herself at him, making him take a step backwards as he absorbed the impact of their bodies. She dragged his mouth down to hers and ravished him as she shoved the oversized sweat-pants she wore down her legs so that she could climb him like a tree. He laughed into her mouth as he adjusted against her, his grip on her arse supporting her weight as he rocked his hips into her.

"I should push you off buildings more often," he said against her jaw.

"Shut up an f-k me whilst I am still on a high from nearly dying."

"You weigh more with your wings," he complained as he adjusted his grip on her buttocks and she tightened the grip of her legs around his hips. His arm muscles stood out with his effort to hold her whilst he angled his hips to hers, and she stroked her hands up them with a purr of enjoyment.

"You need the exercise. I like good arms on my men," she told him.

He was working up a sweat, his eyes at half-mast as he thrusted up and into her. She gripped his shoulders and shoved her body against his strokes, causing him to groan and almost unbalancing him. He widened his stance and his wingspread, the feathers flaring out grandly behind him, and his buttocks clenching beneath her heels as his movements became jerky.

"Oh no you don't," she told him breathlessly. "Not until I do."

"Then f-king hurry up," he said between his teeth, his eyes almost closed, the blue a glitter between the gold of his lashes.

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She pressed her hand between them, rubbing herself, until she brought herself to the edge, and over, and his groan was filthy with his release. She felt the heat of him within her and cursed as she remembered that condoms had slipped her mind in all the activity of the day.

He laughed. "You swear like a soldier."

"We forgot condoms."

He grunted as he shrugged, shifting his hold on her legs. "You might as well bear me an heir before Elior turns you, as after I do not think we will be compatible." He eased out of her and set her to the ground with a moan. "Shit." She tugged the sweat-pants back on. There was a logic to what he said, but she wasn't ready for a baby. "What would happen if he turned you?"

His expression blanked. "I... don't know. I assume it would work, as it did on your mother."

"Maybe we will just get him to turn us both, that way we will be able to have kids later on."

"That could be... entertaining," Cael was intrigued by the prospect.

"If it works," she added pessimistic after her experiences at trying to turn wolf had turned out so dismally. "It might not. Just because I have wings, does not mean that I can be turned. I guess we need to fly back up, now," she looked up with dread. "It is an awfully long way."

"It is not that far. But we may not have the opportunity," his attention had been diverted to the street below them. "It looks like the humans are concentrating their attack on the correct building."

She looked over the edge and saw three familiar figures of the Wingless. "They are working with the humans," she muttered. "What is the bet, they got the humans to flag the name Grenmeyer and when I applied for a passport it popped up and told them exactly where to find me. When the humans decided to go against the vampires, their first step was to get rid of me, so that if my blood was like my mum's, the vampires couldn't get to me. Big mistake," she told them. "Big. Made me run straight to Elior. Bet that stung."

One of them reacted to something a human in uniform said, and for a moment they conferred, pointing at Elior's building.

"Dad's wrong," she said. "The humans know about the Other world already, or at least big chunks of it. The Wingless have told them. Look at them, all friends and buddies. I bet they have been working together a lot over the last couple of decades. Where is my bag of Alatar's tricks when I need them?" She grumbled. "I could just about hit them with a hair-hair-everywhere curse from here."

"Hair-hair-everywhere," Cael repeated, his lips curling in the corners as he fought back a grin. The laughter won as a very undignified snort of sound that caused his eyes to water before he smothered it. "Excuse me," he said, before turning away as it won again, his shoulders shaking.

She grinned, enjoying his mirth. "It would certainly distract them for a time."

"Stay here," he decided, and leapt into the air.

She watched him gain height effortlessly above her, until he disappeared from sight. She watched the Wingless and the humans discuss their options and plan of attack. "Boy, I would love to distract you right now," she said grimly. "Buy us some time, too." Her attention was caught by a familiar figure skulking along a building to her left.

"Oh, dad," she grumbled. "You and Alatar aren't as discrete as you think you are."