I made my way outside. It took me a second to adjust my eyes. Suddenly, there was a flash to my left, and I realized someone was rushing at me with a rather large sword.
I ducked just in time as I felt the blade narrowly miss the top of my head.
I swept the attacker’s legs out from under him. The glint of another sword caught my eye, so I tucked and rolled away as the edge slammed into the dirt outside my studio.
I found my footing and stood tall to face my aggressors.
There were four men and a woman standing before me, each wielding a sword. They were all dressed as if they had just dismounted a motorcycle, fully clad in black leather pants and skintight black leather jackets. It was nearly a cliché as I stood there, wondering why I was smiling at these would-be bikers. The bad guys—dressed in black.
But they were clearly not as amused as I was.
The woman charged me and swung her sword. I leaned to the side, and the blade missed me by a good foot. She brought it back and thrust it forward, aiming for my chest. My wings fully extended out as I jumped into the air. The attacker staggered back, clearly not prepared for my change in altitude. I kicked her in the head, and she landed on her back.
The other four assailants lunged for me at once. I flew a bit higher, just out of their sinister reach. But the lanky, redheaded thug leapt up, higher than any normal human should be able to, and managed to grasp my ankle. He pulled me down hard, and I crashed to the dirt below. Dust billowed around me.
I felt a hand close in around my neck, the fingers slowly crushing my windpipe. I wheezed, struggling to breathe, and tried to pry the redhead’s hands from around my throat. He was strong, but I was stronger.
I managed to break free and scrambled backward as I gasped for air. My hands were bleeding from the struggle, and I reached up to touch my throat.
My necklace was gone. Instant panic set in as my eyes frantically scoured the ground around me, trying to locate my missing heirloom. It was all I had left of my mother, and I needed to find it.
Two of the attackers charged forward with their swords at the ready. I blocked their potential blows with my forearms. I spun and kicked one in the chest, which sent him flying into Sean’s car. I grabbed the other’s wrists, flipped him, and landed him flat on his back.
From the corner of my eye, something shimmered on the ground to my right. I turned my head and spotted my necklace lying just a few feet away. Desperate to regain what was mine, I dove to the ground and clutched it in my bloody hands. My anger rose at the intruders who had nearly cost me an heirloom. I stared into their eyes defiantly, defenseless. But I didn’t care. I vowed to myself to make them pay.
My fingers clutched the only thing in the world that I had left of my mother. I felt a vibration coming from within my grasp. It gradually increased in intensity until my hand shook so violently that I could scarcely hang on to the necklace.
The blood from my fingers ran into the three symbols etched on the key, filling the crevices completely. A bright light began to radiate, its glow shining through every gap of my clenched fist. The necklace spun wildly inside my hand and forced me to release my grasp slightly. The silver accessory that once hung around my neck morphed into a large, leather bound hilt emblazoned with gold symbols. A silver blade sprouted from the hilt in a blaze of fire.
The sword I held in my hand glowed bright with an array of reds and oranges as flames leapt off its edges. It was impressive, and for a moment even my enemies stood in awe of its greatness.
“What the…” I couldn’t begin to grasp what had just occurred. My mind swirled with questions, such as the reason for the inexplicable transformation of my necklace into a weapon. I shook my head vigorously to see if my mind was playing tricks on me.
But it was real. My fingers grasped the grip tightly. It provided me with a sudden burst of power that I’d never felt before. My body was alive with electricity.
Swords raised above their heads, two of the warriors began their offensive in an effort to take me out.
Still on the ground, I raised my sword, stopping their advance with a clang of metal hitting metal.
My courage swelled as something stirred within me. I leapt into the air, wings spread out in all of their mighty splendor, and went on the attack. I flew at my two closest opponents, and with one swing of the blade, chopped off their heads, which landed with a thud onto the hard ground below. Their bodies stood stiff, only for a moment, and then dropped to their knees, falling over in defeat.
Two more attackers advanced and hurdled into the air with supernatural strength. However, without wings, they couldn’t sustain their airborne status and quickly fell back to the earth. They vaulted themselves into the air once more, with their swords at the ready, and thrust their weapons at my chest. I countered, swinging my newfound blade, stopping theirs from striking me. They fell back to the ground. One of my rivals had hair as fiery as my blade. He sprang into the air, reaching for my foot, determined to bring me down. But I swung my blade, cutting off his hand before he managed to grab me.
He plummeted to Earth and landed hard. My efforts had only managed to make him angrier. Blood poured from his wound, but he clutched his sword tightly in the hand that remained, crouched low, and pushed off with all his strength.
But I was prepared. I used the force of my wings to disorient him. The air forced him back and gave me enough time to wield my blade, cutting off his head.
Unfortunately, my victory was short-lived. In the heat of the commotion, I became distracted just enough that the female assailant somehow managed to grab my ankle and pulled me down—hard.
I struggled for a moment to gain my bearings, but it was one moment too late. I was unable to block the tip of her sword from coming down directly into my shoulder. I screamed in agony as she turned the weapon counter-clockwise in an effort to worsen my injury and cause debilitating pain. She pulled out her sword and came at me again when her attempt was thwarted.
It seemed someone else had joined the fight.
I looked up to see another female clutching the hilt of a unique-looking sabre. Its curved edge had halted my enemy’s intended trajectory just shy of my chest. My attacker stepped back, clearly shocked and agitated at this intruder’s presence. The newcomer rotated the grip in her hand, swinging her blade around in a circle as a playful gesture. Her expression was one of anticipation and delight. She wore a brown, leather corset with molded armor across her chest. Her platinum blonde hair was cut short to her scalp, lips a bright crimson, and her eyes were as black as the night.
My attacker was incensed at this new arrival’s interruption. She stormed ahead, and I watched in wonder as the two of them exchanged blow after blow, hearing the clang of their weapons striking. The female in black kicked hard, making direct contact to the chest of her rival. But the woman in the armor was unmoved. It was as if the fight was too easy.
She smiled.
My shoulder began to heal, my skin closing in around the wound. The pain subsided, and I once again stood ready to fight.
“You okay?” asked my platinum savior matter-of-factly. She looked over at me. There was no concern in her eyes. Everything about her screamed strictly business and nothing more.
I nodded my head. “I’m good.”
The woman in black leather screamed with rage and raced for the sabre-wielding blonde.
With one swift movement of her arm, the leather-clad attacker was beheaded, her body falling off to the side.
We heard another scream and realized there was still one assailant left among us.
He rushed ahead, sword at the ready.
My female rescuer fended him off. They exchanged blows, their swords cutting through the air as if an extension of their own hands. But the attacker got lucky. The blonde female tripped backward over a large rock and held her sword in front of her, trying with all her strength to keep his blade from slicing through her chest.
“Hey! Back off, jackass.” I spun my head to the side and witnessed a statuesque figure standing a few feet off to my left. My fingers tightened around the grip of my sword as I tried to figure out whose side this new player was on.
It appeared that he was friend and not foe.
He looked less warrior and more modern, wearing ripped, baggy jeans and a faded, skintight t-shirt that showed off his rock-hard abs. He had wavy, strawberry blonde hair with freckles to match. His eyes were the complete opposite of the blonde female’s. They were pale blue—so pale, in fact, that the color barely existed.
He was attractive. At least I thought he was. I’d never been around enough men in my lifetime to make any kind of a comparison.
The man in the black leather pants stepped back from the blonde warrior and faced off with the new arrival.
“About time, Dorian. I thought you were going to let me do all the work again!” shouted his female companion.
“And let you have all the fun? Not a chance!” He grinned. He appeared to be enjoying himself.
He brandished half a Chakram in each hand. The half-moon blades he held had black, slight-S shaped grips. I recognized the weapon from my time in India during the 18th century. If put in the hands of a skilled warrior, they could be extremely deadly.
And it became obvious that this new warrior was indeed skilled.
The leather-clad aggressor charged ahead. Dorian used the curved blades to catch the attacker’s sword mid-swing, and then kicked him hard in the chest, sending him stumbling backward.
“You’re not even trying!” shouted Dorian, trying to provoke the combatant.
That only seemed to infuriate the man in black even more as he lunged, bringing his blade straight down from above Dorian’s head, who quickly slid to the side, allowing the blade to narrowly miss his shoulder by an inch. The two took a battle stance, eyeing each other and trying to get a feel for the other.
And the battle continued. They danced about, striking and dodging each other’s blows. The sound of blade on blade was loud and fast. Both were extremely skilled, but I knew there could only be one victor.
Dorian stopped and crossed his arms in front of him as his aggressor took a momentary step back.
I watched the final member of the attackers dance back and forth, eager to continue the fight. Dorian lowered his head and closed his eyes. I was dumbfounded and glanced over at the woman standing next to me.
“What’s he doing?” I asked out of the corner of my mouth. His behavior had me completely baffled and concerned.
“Just watch,” she whispered with a smile, folding her arms across her armored chest.
The enemy stood for a moment with confusion on his brow, but it didn’t last long. He lunged ahead ready to claim his prize.
Everything suddenly seemed to happen in slow motion.
Dorian vaulted himself into the air with his arms raised high. He sailed above his foe’s head and flipped forward, crossing his weapons at his wrists. With scissor-like precision, his enemy’s head tumbled to the ground with a thud.
The final attacker had been defeated.
Dorian landed on his feet behind his beaten adversary.
I looked around at the carnage, to all the headless bodies now lying in front of my studio.
Dorian clamped his Chakram together at the grips, creating a perfect circle of steel. He then hooked it to a leather loop attached to his jeans.
The armored woman left my side and strutted over to her accomplice. She used her thumb to remove a streak of blood from his face.
“Nice job,” she said dryly.
“Thanks. They’re bringing out the big guns,” he replied.
“I saw that. I guess he really means business this time.”
“Agreed. I think we’re going to need to alert the others that it may happen sooner than we all thought.”
I watched the pair discuss the battle, bragging about their individual kills as if I was invisible. Neither one seemed to notice the girl with large gray wings. It had happened so quickly that I barely had time to process it all. The two continued chatting, totally ignoring me, which had begun to piss me off. As happy as I was to live in solitude, I didn’t like being ignored. It didn’t make any sense, but then I was a complicated girl.
As I continued to listen to them go back and forth, I wondered whether they were truly friend or foe.
Friend, I told myself. After all, they had come to my rescue. And if they’d wanted me dead, they would have attacked me, too. But instead of trying to kill me, they stood there bickering like an old married couple about who had fought the better battle.
“Oh for crying out loud,” I interrupted.
The attractive couple paused and focused their gaze in my direction. They seemed to study me, their gazes fixed on my wings.
“Can someone tell me exactly what the hell just happened here? Who were those biker-wannabes, and why did they attack me? And while we’re at it, just who the heck are you two?”
“She asks a lot of questions,” said the female flatly.
“Don’t be rude, Lillith.” The young guy stepped forward and put out his hand in a friendly gesture. I stared at him for a moment with profound suspicion. His eyes looked far friendlier than his female companion’s. I pondered whether or not I should trust either of them. But they had just come to my rescue and defeated a swarm of assassins clearly intent on killing me.
I threw caution to the wind, stabbed my sword forcibly into the ground, and extended my hand.
“I’m Dorian,” he said, shaking my hand.
“Skyy.”
“We know who you are,” said Lillith. She seemed uninterested in me and started to examine the carnage, tapping decapitated heads with the toe of her boot as she walked around.
Dorian released his grasp and twisted his neck around, giving her a dirty look.
“Sorry. My sister is a little grumpy today.”
I shrugged. I didn’t really care about her personality quirks.
“Now that I think about it, she’s grumpy pretty much all the time,” he said, flashing me a charismatic grin.
I scanned my surroundings with disbelief, ignoring his attempt at charm.
“So why do I have dead people all over my front yard? And just who the hell is gonna clean this up?”
“We have others on the way. They’ll pile them up and burn the bodies for us.” Dorian folded his hands, rested them on top of his head and looked me in the eye. His gaze made me uncomfortable. Sean was the only person who had gotten this close to me in years, and even then I wasn’t completely comfortable with the proximity of another person. “I saw you fight. Where did you learn to do that?”
“I’ve been around. Learned how to defend myself over the years,” I said, diverting my eyes as I again surveyed the carnage.
“Impressive,” he said. He continued to stare, making me feel uneasy.
I didn’t know why.
“I knew that someday someone would find out about me and come for me. I mean, not rejects from some defunct motorcycle gang that seem to have superhuman abilities, but someone—someday. Were they after my wings?”
“They were after you.” He studied me and my sword. I’m sure I looked ridiculous. The white cotton tank-top I wore was splattered with blood. My ratty jeans had paint all over the front, and my bare feet were covered in mud.
“Is this the first time you’ve had to kill someone?” he asked.
“How is that any of your business?”
He shrugged. “Just curious. This was my…” Dorian closed his eyes. I could see his lips moving, but he didn’t speak. “296th.”
“What?” I asked.
“296. That’s how many I’ve killed over the years.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. Pretty sure.”
I took a step back. His words gave rise to caution. From what I’d just witnessed, he was clearly a trained killer, and his demeanor told me he was proud of that fact. I threw a sideways glance to my sword sticking out of the ground, preparing to fight if need be.
“Should you be telling me this?”
Dorian’s face suddenly grew serious, his brow taking on an air of apprehension as he glanced at our surroundings.
“Can we head inside? It’ll be safer just in case he sends more of his cronies after you.” Dorian pointed to the door of my studio.
“Shit. Sean!”
I’d forgotten all about him in the melée, suddenly remembering he’d remained inside. I worried someone could have snuck into the building completely undetected. I grabbed my sword, yanking it out of the dirt, and raced toward the shed. Dorian and Lillith followed closely behind.
I flung the door open frantically, causing it to bang on the outer wall.
“Sean! Are you okay? Where are you?” I yelled.
I was met with silence.
“Sean. Quit messin’ around, man. I need you out here!”
A few more seconds ticked by as I anxiously awaited a response.
Sean stepped out nervously from behind one of my larger sculptures, but he kept his distance, eyeing my visitors with caution.
“Who are they?” Sean asked, nodding in their direction.
“This is Dorian,” I said, motioning toward the brother. “That ray of sunshine is Lillith,” I muttered sarcastically, tossing a thumb in her direction. “Apparently they think they just saved my life. But now they’re going to tell me why they’re really here.” I couldn’t contain my disdain and distrust of the pair. It seemed far too coincidental that they just happened to show up to save me the moment I was attacked by thugs in black.
“We think we saved your life? Before we got here, you looked like you were on the losing end of a blade,” said Lillith wryly.
“I had it under control,” I said, glancing down at my shoulder wound, which by then had completely healed over, leaving only a small scar behind.
“So you say,” she replied, eyeing my shoulder suspiciously.
I walked over to Sean and slapped the sword’s hilt into his chest, forcing him to grab it before it fell to the ground. I swung around and faced her with a scowl on my lips. “You say you know who I am. So, it appears I’m at a disadvantage here.”
Lillith glared at me. “Looks like it, doesn’t it?” she replied flatly.
I held up my hand and began to use my fingers to count off each thing I said.
“I live in the middle of nowhere to avoid running into people like you. I have wings. The necklace my mother gave me over three hundred years ago just turned into a sword. Oh, and I was just attacked by assassins on my property where the two of you just happen to show up at the right place at the right time. So, once you’re done telling me how you found me here, how about you tell me who I am?
“Because apparently there’s more to my story than even I know.”