Binding the Shadows
Page 28

A massive pair of black, feathered wings fanned over his bare shoulders.
What the hell was going on? Because unlike Priya—who used to appear to me as diffused, soft translucent being, neither man nor woman, stoic and cold—this creature flying in front of me was solid flesh. Very male flesh.
He gazed at me with enormous black eyes.
Bird-boy had a dusky gray halo, which rose like smoke above his punked-out, anime hero, Robert-Smith-meets-Sandman mop of hair. He also had a handsome face with sunken cheeks and high cheekbones, and an aquiline nose that was prominent and curved and beaky, but definitely still a human nose.
His wings flapped madly, stirring up the air and whipping my hair across my face. He floated closer and reached out a hand. I jerked away and fell back against the concrete roof. Undeterred, he shifted his wings—Jesus, they were huge!—and his body tilted. He flew over me, inches above, mimicking my prone position.
My heart galloped. I sucked in a strangled breath and tried to unscramble my thoughts.
What had I done? Was this an Æthyric demon? Had I just summoned a damn Æthyric demon with a binding triangle? Couldn’t have. No way. That wasn’t a summoning circle. And Hermeneus spirits didn’t actually cross the veil to our plane: they were just projections—magical holograms.
But they had birdlike features. Priya had birdlike features. Just not quite like this . . .
The flying boy studied my face with his big, black eyes. Tiny feathers framed his eyelids instead of lashes. And I stared back, his mouth widened into a disarming grin.
His teeth weren’t human teeth, but tiny, silver points! Dozens of them.
I flinched. The back of my head smacked the cement. He flew closer and touched my cheek with long, cool fingers.
“My mistress. It is I, your loyal guardian.” His voice was low and crackly. Rougher than rough. He cupped my face in both hands, long fingers grazing my scalp. “It is Priya.”
My heart stopped.
“Priya?”
His dark eyes went all squinty as he smiled and touched the tip of his nose to mine.
“Mistress!”
I pulled away from him and scooted across the cement into a sitting position. He squatted down in front of me, flapping furiously, and folded his wings into two black compact shapes against his back.
My voice stuttered along with my panicked heartbeat. “It can’t be—you’re . . .”
“Changed,” he said with great pride. “I am reincarnated into a new body.”
“You’re a boy,” I said dumbly.
“A beautiful boy,” he agreed. His chest plumped with pride. “Do you find me pleasing?”
“Uh . . .” I blinked rapidly, my eyes darting over his bare silverfish skin, ripped with muscle. “Sure. You’re something, all right.”
He smiled with that mouth full of sharp, metal teeth. It was freaky. And kind of cool. “Are you as happy to see me as I am to see you?”
“I . . . umm, Jesus! How are you here on Earth? In the flesh, I mean?”
“I am as surprised as you. My species does not travel corporeally between the planes. Perhaps your magick is stronger. Or perhaps my new body is special. I have only had it a short time.”
“If it’s really you—”
“Of course it is. How could you not know me? I died saving you.”
I grimaced. A terrible pang of guilt clinched my roiling stomach. But I still wasn’t convinced. This could be the Æthyric equivalent of an Internet stalker. Maybe bird-boy had hijacked Priya’s identity.
“How did you die, exactly?” I asked. “I need proof.”
“I was eaten alive by hundreds of lichen insects that a Pareba demon sent after me.”
My pulse pounded in my temples. “Anyone might know that,” I said shakily. “Tell me something no one would know but us. Priya and me.”
“You sent me to find a spell to change your hair color when you were young and vain. I told you it was a waste of my skills, but you insisted.”
“I wasn’t vain.”
“You were vain,” he insisted.
“You never found the spell.”
“It doesn’t exist. But that didn’t stop you from stripping the color from your hair anyway, did it?” He reached out with one arm, silver-skinned and corded with wiry muscle, to snag a lock of the bleached section of hair behind my ears.
A small sob escaped my lips. “Priya.”
“Yes.” He touched my cheek again, and this time I placed my hand over his. I was astounded. Shocked. Reeling. And totally, completely humbled. It felt like I’d just brought an old friend back from the dead.
And in a way, maybe I had.
It felt strange to touch him. Him—I still couldn’t believe it. He looked young. Maybe twenty, maybe older. It was hard to tell with Æthyric creatures. They tended to age slower than humans. I let go of his hand and swallowed hard, trying to hold back tears.
“I heard your call,” he said. His feathery eyelashes fanned as he blinked. “I knew it was your Heka. Unmistakable. And the magick was so strong. It made a tunnel of light through the sky. I stepped in the tunnel and your Heka pulled me right through the veil.” He made a descriptive gesture with his hands and blew out a whoosh! sound.
“Holy shit,” I murmured.
He glanced around us for a few moments, surveying the twinkling city all around us, as if he just noticed where he was. He lifted his face and inhaled, breathing in the night air, then turned back to me and smiled. “I am so happy that you did not call another guardian to replace me while I was gone.”