{Phoenix, AZ | July 2006}

A month later…

One day, Rayne might have her own wings. She saw it in a dream recently. Right now, the pounding roar of the wind beat at her, pressing her to fall. Gravity beckoned. The occasional tiny braids in her hair pelted as the wind carried the waist-length tresses over her exposed pale skin. Dressed in a tight blue tank and white cut-off shorts, she wished for the ultraviolet warmth of the sun’s rays on this scorching July afternoon. But alas. She opened her bright blue eyes to a world with no sunglasses at 3:00PM. Blasphemous.

Phoenix, Arizona was beautiful at this elevation. At thirty-three stories up, Rayne balanced on a beam outside some residential building, perpetually unfinished. A familiar voice replayed in her head, “If you fall, I’ll catch you.”

Rayne smiled. Xelan would, too. The direction of the wind changed, the currents blew from beneath.

Now.

Rayne backflipped on her good hand and swung with her mace when she righted. Caedes’ brows shot up on his bald head, eyes widened and ears fuming. She’d caught Caedes with the mace between his legs while he hovered on his wings above her. She twisted to the side and kicked him in the face, smashing it with a heavy combat boot. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he spiraled to the ground. Frullop, known inside the Shadow as ‘Froot Loop,’ collected his fellow Brethren member before Caedes could plow into the pavement.

Xelan had surprised Rayne by suggesting this exercise to impress the local Iona and resistance groups. He might as well have asked her to fight on a high wire. She agreed because he’d promised to catch her if she fell. Her faith in him went as deep as her blood. At the last minute, Caedes had volunteered as Rayne’s flying opponent. She hoped the flippy, spinny shit had appealed to the crowd of two hundred and twenty-three spectators below. But if that didn’t, this might.

Rayne ran to the edge of the beam and gave in to what she’d wanted to do for the last ten minutes.

She dove.

Thirty-three stories.

Either Xelan was coming to get her as promised, or it wouldn’t matter in another twenty seconds. She even threw in a front flip to give it a little showmanship. The pockets of air buffeted around her until the currents changed.

Xelan’s wings.

Rayne smiled. He never let her down.

She never told him about her revelation from three months ago—him being in her life all this time. Xelan had suspected something was up when Rayne started asking for seconds at meal times and turned up in the mornings rested and eager for some one-armed training.

The first time Rayne had brought up Enki had startled him. He assured her that he’d reached out to some contacts on Invasion Day, but inter-conduit travel took time.

Tameka and Sagan had suspected something when they’d caught Rayne cutting her clothes. It had started as removing the left sleeve of all her shirts, but then she fell into a frenzy of shortening everything she owned into pieces which displayed her muscular physique. The girls had joined her in the activity, and each joked about supply runs for hair care and makeup. Light work made hard work tolerable.

And the last three months had been very hard.

The Shadow traveled from Iona to Iona by train or convoy. Rayne communicated scarcely via messengers from Little Rock for news of her brother. Xelan expected no news from Matt and Lucy. The duo weighed more heavily on Rayne than she’d realized.

Most of the Iona-01 crew had joined them for the migration. Rayne had spent a lot of time with them after Xelan healed her injuries. She learned how to drive manual with some help, and Colton took her down with a sword. He promised to teach her how to operate the train next. Six worked security detail away from her control tower. It suited her, and Rayne suspected it was a familiar career path. Smith delivered new toys to Rayne often, like the mace. His crime remained a mystery. But give her time. Cypher scared her. She worried about the strength of his faith in her. It came across too strong and made her hide from him.

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This morale PR campaign was a full-time job. Rayne ate, slept, trained, and recruited. All day, every day. And showered. It was time to talk about the communal shower thing. The first time was weird. And every time she visited a new Iona, it was the first time all over again.

Each time Rayne undressed in the locker room with her girls, and they walked into the wide open tiled space with men and women populating the area. Each time people stared.

Rayne was acutely aware of it when maneuvering her bad arm. It hung limp on her left side, but she cleaned around it. The awkward attention made her self conscious and brought tears to her eyes.

Every. Time.

Wherever Rayne went, she carried Nox’s ring with her. She stored it away in her sling. A reminder of her purpose—the core of her. How much more could he take away before his death no longer seemed optional to her? Hence, her current daredevil mood.

Falling from the building, Xelan caught Rayne about ten stories from the ground. She appreciated the extra hang time he took, hoping for her to sweat it out. It allowed her a little introspection. She needed to talk to someone over her inadequacies as a leader with a ruined appendage.

As Xelan alighted with Rayne’s arms around his waist, she peeked up at him, gauging his expression on the angry meter. Clenched jaw was a one. Clenched jaw and furrowed brows was a six or seven. Eyes and voice changed to Atramentous was a ten. He flexed his jaw, glaring down at her. After another heartbeat, he shook his head with a smile, and the tension dissipated.

“It must have looked pretty cool, then,” Rayne said without fighting the sly smile growing on her face.

Xelan let out a heavy sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, it looked pretty cool.” He pointed a finger in her face. “And if you ever do it again, I will just let you splat on the asphalt.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Tameka said as she ran to Rayne’s side.

Rayne embraced her with a laugh. “We’ve gotta impress them, Xelan. If you let me go ‘splat,’ how does that work?”

“You gave me a heart attack!” Sagan cried, her hands on her hips in concern. But Rayne understood Sagan. Her chest heaved and her breath caught, telltale signs of… well… being turned on.

With the adrenaline coursing through her veins like pure octane, Rayne smirked and blew Sagan a kiss.

The blond’s tanned skin flushed from head to toe. Sagan asked, “Was it fun?”

Rayne beamed at Xelan, who assented with a nod. She said, “I wanna go again.”

“First, let’s check on the results of the match,” Xelan called. Spoilsport.

Rayne glanced around, asking, “Where’d the mace go?”

“Kyle got it. He also had some modification ideas for our gear.” Tameka examined Rayne’s bulging everything. “You put on some weight.” No one needed to say anything about kicking the eating disorder. “So your clothes don’t exactly fit your budding frame. In Kyle’s exact words, ‘It’s getting impossible to train with her.’”

“So, my boobs distracted Caedes? Is this my superpower?” Rayne asked, making Sagan snort in a fit of giggles.

Lucas called from the side of the building, “No, the blunt, iron instrument to his testicles distracted him.” He glanced at Tameka, then back to Rayne. “You’re not exactly Caedes’ type.”

Rayne loved Lucas. Really, really loved the Icarus. “Did you see me?! I flew!”

His grin dialed up the wattage to match the sun. Lucas said, “It’s not exactly flying, but you did a magnificent job terrifying our uptight leader.” They met and hugged in the middle of the back lot. Several inches shorter than Xelan, he proved much easier to embrace.

Xelan exaggerated the sound of clearing his throat. “Any news?”

Lucas pried Rayne off him and addressed his boss. “Ahh, preliminary results are stellar. Caedes is still unconscious and when he initially arrived on the ground, he sported quite an attractive boot print on his face. The ‘resistance group’ will allow us to follow them to their ‘stronghold’ whatever that may be.”

“Great!” Rayne clasped her hands together and rested them on her lips, squeezing her pecs.

Sagan stared at her with an open mouth.

“I think I see Kyle’s point about your clothes.” Lucas’ eyes popped wide, and he looked away, dramatically.

Xelan stuck his fingers in his ears. “I am not hearing this.”

Sagan argued, eyes glued to Rayne’s tank top, “Please don’t ruin it for the rest of us.”

Rayne nudged Xelan. “It’s a good thing I’m not your type, either.”

Tameka snickered and followed in tow with Xelan at her side as they approached the front of the building. “Have you finally confessed your undying love to Andrew?” Mentioning Andrew made Rayne sad he’d missed her demonstration, but he and John were working on separate missions for the Shadow elsewhere.

Xelan groaned.

Lucas shushed the giggling young women, saying, “We’re within hearing range. And I do things in my own time.”

Rayne placed her hand on his back. “It’s the apocalypse. There may not be enough time.”

He returned her sad smile. “I’ll work on it.”

“General Callahan,” a middle-aged woman called from the front of the throng. Mercy—nice codename—set off red flags for Rayne. The woman bothered her. Mercy said, “That was most impressive. We’re honored to have you as our guests, tonight. Please follow us.” She hopped into a fire truck and waited in the passenger seat.

Rayne climbed behind the wheel of a dirty black hummer with Colton beside her. “I don’t like it,” he muttered. She nodded and started the ignition. The rest of the crew climbed in. Caedes and Froot Loop headed back to Iona-28. Humans limited Icarean presence in their compounds.

Rayne gave it some gas and eased off the clutch, launching in first. Colton shifted gears for her in the turns. The entire time her jaw stayed tight.

Something was wrong with Mercy.