Chapter 43: Bonus Chapter 4 — Khail meets Rowan

Mikhail:

I don’t know where I’m going, but I couldn’t stay there anymore. My body aches, reminding me of the beating I took from my foster father days ago. Lifting my shirt, I take a look at my back, using the reflection from a nearby window to check my wounds. My winged tattoos glow like beacons on my back, and any sign of damage is gone. This all began when wings sprouted from my tattoos. I don’t understand where the tattoos or the wings came from, but it scared my foster father enough to pray while he tried to cut them off. My body shudders at the memory. He called me evil and told me I was sent from hell as he cut them off, then proceeded to use his belt against my sensitive skin.

As I rush through the grimy alleys, I ignore any residual pain. Thankfully, I healed rather quickly, and my wings grew back. As soon as I was somewhat healed, I opened the attic window and used my wings to fly away.

A cry escapes my lips as I continue to run and almost trip over a couple of garbage bags and glass bottles.

The soft night breeze tousles my long, dark hair, bringing the stench of sewage and garbage, and a soft whining sound reaches my ears up ahead.

It’s been days since I ran away, and my body is getting weak from hunger. I stole money from some guy the other day, but it was only enough for a small meal.

It’s the middle of the night, but I can still see fairly well. In fact, my night vision is clearer than a normal human.

I’m about the round the corner of an alley when I see him. A man struggling beneath someone’s tight grip. I know I should run away, but something about their position makes me curious. Stepping closer, I see that the man’s body is flailing around, and the other person’s head is between the man’s neck.

Gurgling and choking sounds reverberate across the dirty alley. It’s only when I see the man’s body go still that I snap out of my curious haze.

I must make a sound because the person’s head snaps up, and he releases the body. The man’s body falls to the floor with a thump, and I meet the glowing amber eyes of his attacker. To my surprise, it’s not a man, but a boy’s face that greets me. His golden hair and pale skin glow beneath the streetlight, and his teeth are sharp. Blood is smeared across his face, and his fingers look sharp like claws.

I don’t know why, but he doesn’t scare me. I guess because the first time my wings came out, my eyes glowed, and I also had claws.

I observe as the boy tilts his head and gives me a curious look. He looks about my age.

Swallowing hard, I take a step back, but I never take my eyes off him. “What are you?” I ask the boy.

The boy takes a step forward as he wipes his bloody lips and gives me a cocky grin. “Aren’t you scared of me?” He asks.

His voice is soft yet threatening.

I shrug my shoulders. “Should I be?”

His expression grows cold as he approaches.

I stiffen my shoulders with every step he takes and can feel my wings straining behind my back. Before I can react, his hand is around my neck. “You should be.” He mutters before he pulls his head back and readies to bury his fangs inside my throat.

However, as his head begins to descend, I set my wings free, grab him by the waist and fly him up into the air.

His eyes widen with surprise as he grips my shoulders and tries to free himself.

“Who’s scared now, asshole!” I croak out.

At my words, the boy stops his struggles and faces me. “What are you?” He asks.

I quirk a brow. “You first.”

He smirks. “That’s easy; I’m a vampire, duh.”

I want to deny his claim, but after what I saw, I know it’s possible.

My wings flutter around me as we soar in place. “I…I don’t know what I am.” I self-consciously mutter.

The boy’s expression grows sour. “I don’t believe you,” Once again, he tries to bite me, but before he can, I release my grip and let him fall to the ground. It’s about a fifty-foot fall, but the boy lands on the ground with little injury.

“Dick!” He screams out at me. “I just wanted to know what you were.”

I hover above him. “Then why’d you try to bite me, fucker?”

He rolls his eyes. “I just wanted to get a taste so I could see what you were. I wasn’t going to hurt you…much.” He sounds so insincere, yet something about him puts me instantly at ease.

Slowing down my wings, I land in front of him. “I’m Mikhail.”

The boy waits for a moment as if gauging my intentions, then answers. “I’m Rowan.”

I look beyond him, my gaze landing on the dead body. “Why’d you kill him?”

He snickers. “Trust me, it wasn’t my intention. I was just walking around minding my own business when he dragged me into the alley. The asshole was trying to rip my pants off. When he tried to grab my dick, my vampire powers took over. I think he was a drug dealer or something cause his blood tasted funny and I felt high for like a minute. Thankfully, I’m immune to shit like that, or I’d be really fucked up.”

I look at the man, then back at Rowan. “Can you really tell me what I am by tasting my blood?”

Rowan shrugs. “I mean, I can tell that you’re not human. But I guess I don’t need to bite you. Considering you have wings, there are only two possibilities.”

I look at my wings. “What are the possibilities? And how would you know?”

We both still when we hear the sound of scurrying feet in the distance. Rowan looks around warily, then nudges his chin. “It’s not safe out here for us. Come on, I have a place.”

I narrow my eyes with suspicion, which makes Rowan roll his eyes. “Look, you’ve already proven that we’re both pretty even in strength.” His eyes run appraisingly across my wiry frame. “And you look like you could use a meal and some sleep. I know a place we can go for those things.” He holds his palms up. “But if you want to stay, be my guest.”

He makes valid points, so I don’t resist.

My instincts tell me that I can trust him, and for once, I’m going to listen. “Okay, let’s go.”

Over the next fifteen minutes, we trek through alleys and abandoned warehouses until we reach an opening near a forest.

“Come on. The place is up ahead.”

About half a mile later, we reach an abandoned school bus near a hill. Rowan opens the bus’s rusty door and waves me inside. The bus’s interior is a lot more comfortable looking than I expect it to be. At least half of the seats are missing. The windows are painted black, and there’s an inflatable mattress near the exit. Rowan walks ahead, opens an old beat-up footlocker, and tosses me a bottle of water and a box of pop tarts. “That should tide you over until we can figure something out.”

I tear into the box and shove a pop-tart in my mouth without hesitation. I don’t think anything has ever tasted this good. Closing my eyes with pleasure, I take another bite and groan.

Rowan chuckles. “It’s been a while, huh?”

I nod my head and mutter. “Yeah.”

Rowan gives me a pitying stare as he hands me a jar of peanut butter. “I took that from the grocery store the other day. It stifles the hunger pangs. So, how long has it been since you ran away? I’ve been on the streets for a year. I was living in a group home before that. The other kids were assholes. It sucked, so I ran off.”

I quirk a brow in surprise. “It’s been almost a week. My foster father cut off my wings and hit me. I ran off when he left me half on my bedroom floor.”

Rowan nods in understanding. “Sounds familiar, dude.”

I brush off any stray crumbs, open the jar and scoop out some of the peanut butter. “Are you going to tell me what I am or what?”

Rowan bobs his head up and down. “Well, based on the fact that your wings are leathery but also have feathers, I’d say you’re either a demon, or an angel, or both.”

I look at my back from the corner of my eye. “How do you know that?”

Rowan shrugs. “I’ve stumbled upon a few other supernaturals over the past year. A lot of them are surprisingly chatty. Especially after they figure out that I’m a vampire.” He shrugs his bony shoulders. “There’s this angel that works at the blood bank that gives me blood bags when he can. He’s pretty cool. Said that I reminded him of his kid. He even gave me a book on supernaturals.” He says as he rifles through a nearby bag and produces the book. “Here.” He tosses it to me before he turns back and begins to unfold blankets across the mattress. “I’m tired, man. You can stay if you want. Just don’t try anything funny.”

I open the book with a nod. “Thanks,” I mutter.

He yawns loudly and settles back in the pillow. “Look, Mikhail. It seems that you and I are in the same situation. I know how scary it is to be alone. If you want, we can stick together. I mean, I get that this is not the Hilton or anything, but it’s safe.”

My eyes tear up at his offer. We barely just met, but he’s treated me kinder than anyone else in my life. “Really, Rowan, thanks. I guess I can stay with you.”

Rowan’s eyes begin to droop. “Sounds good. We can watch each other’s backs like brothers.”

My lip quirks with a smile. “How old are you, Ro?”

He smiles. “I’m thirteen, Khail. You?”

I laugh. I like that he gave me a nickname, and I can tell he likes that I gave him one too. “I’m fourteen, which means I’m older and wiser.”

He scoffs with amusement. “Yeah, okay.”

I lay back on the mattress and close my eyes.

For the first time in forever, I feel safe enough to fall asleep.

From that moment on, Rowan and I became brothers.