"They didn't. They―they can't . . . it's not possible," I stammer.

"I'm so sorry," Diana whispers.

"No, they said they burned them—I don't—" My voice cracks and I suck in a sharp breath.

"Ana come on we need to get Daniel and get out of here," she urges.

I take a deep breath and nod, swallowing hard. The boy is slowly stalking closer, but I look past him. Daniel's body lies in a heap on the floor. His chest barely rises and falls—but it's moving.

The boy raises his hand and Diana screams, crumpling into a ball on the ground beside me. She covers her ears and squeezes her eyes shut.

I roll my shoulders and let my wings unfurl. My gaze snaps back to the boy and my fingers twitch.

Nothing happens. I take a small step back as panic starts to set in.

Diana goes still and the boy turns to me with a smirk. He flicks his wrist but still nothing happens. This time it's my turn to smirk. "Looks like we're doing this the old-fashioned way," I mutter.

His eyes widen. "Why can't I—"

"Those are my wings. You're using my powers. They won't work against me," I spit, stalking forward. I clench my jaw and my fingers curl into fists.

"Well thanks anyway for the upgrade. My ability was pretty much useless—I mean how much damage can you really do with night vision?" he shrugs.

"Any power can be deadly if you know how to use it. Even no power at all," I remark. My eyebrow shoots up when he starts to slowly back away.

I hear a small groan behind me and the boy's eyes follow the sound. I leap forward and slam my fist into his face. He stumbles backward with a gasp, his hand flying to cover his bleeding mouth.

He throws a weak jab that I easily avoid and swing my elbow out. I catch his temple and he careens toward the wall. He shakes his head, struggling to stand upright.

I drive my heel into his side; the sound of cracking ribs fills my ears. I grab a handful of his hair and force his face down as I bring up my knee. He falls onto his back, blood dripping from his nose and mouth.

"Ana?"

I whip around to see Daniel looking around groggily. His face is bashed in and covered in blood—his eyes barely staying open as he looks at me. "What's going on?" he asks.

Pain suddenly shoots through my knee, and it collapses under me. I scream as I fall to the floor, stabbing pins and needles traveling up and down my throbbing leg.

I stare at my leg, mouth agape. It is twisted the wrong way and sits at an awkward angle, bone sticking out of my shin where it tore through my skin and my pants.

Something collides with my cheek and my head snaps to the side. Blood wells up in my mouth as I bite down on my tongue.

The back of my head hits the floor and suddenly the boy is straddling my waist, his hands curled around my neck. I try to pull his hands away, but he squeezes tighter.

Cold creeps into my limbs and spots start to fill my vision. I stretch my hands out, grappling for anything within reach. My fingers touch something solid and I fumble for a grip.

It's pushed into my hand and I bring it hard across the boy's face. He rolls off me with a cry. I gasp for air, my chest heaving as I try to breathe normally. I try to get up but everything starts to spin.

The boy is getting up slower than I am though. I glance down at the rock in my hand before slamming it into his head again. He topples to the ground, unconscious.

"Where'd you get a rock?" I ask Daniel, tossing it away.

"I don't know, I think it came off the wall when that jackass threw me at it," he winces, slowly pushing himself to his feet.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

He nods with a small groan. "Yeah, just a pounding headache but it'll go away soon. What about you? Your leg it's—"

"I'll be fine, go check on Diana," I tell him.

He nods and stumbles over to where she still lays, completely unmoving. He checks for a pulse then shakes his head with heavy sigh. "She is going to be in a hell of a lot of pain when she wakes up," he mutters.

The sudden sound of a groan makes me jump. My head snaps towards the boy. He starts to push himself up but then his arms give out and his face hits the stone floor.

"Guess you don't heal with someone else's wings," Daniel comments.

"Give me your sword."

"What?"

I grit my teeth against the pain coursing through my body and carefully stand on one shaky leg. "Give me your sword and help me," I repeat.

He picks it up off the floor and offers me the hilt. I take it in my hand and look back at the boy, struggling to get up again.

Daniel loops one arm around my waist and helps me hobble over to the boy. I grip the sword with both hands, clenching my jaw tightly.

"What are you doing?" the boy rasps, pushing himself onto his knees.

"Taking back my wings," I growl out before raising the sword above my head. In a single sweep, the wings are laying on the floor.

The boy didn't even make a sound. He barely even moved.

I glance at Daniel in confusion but he just shrugs. I look back at the boy. He holds the wall, desperately trying to stand but can't seem to keep his feet underneath him.

"I'll get them, can you try to wake up Diana?" Daniel asks.

I nod. "Yeah sure." I try to use the sword as a cane and limp over to her, nearly toppling over several times in just a few steps. I wave my hand and her eyes fly open as she stands.

"What happened? Are you okay?" she asks, reaching for my face.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay let's get the hell out of here before we get jumped by another psycho with a wing transplant," Daniel growls.

"Hey thanks for letting me borrow your wings! It was fun while it lasted!" the boy cackles.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"Ana let's go!" Diana urges, tugging on my arm.

"Yeah one second—" I raise my hand and jerk my wrist. I hear his neck snap followed by his body hitting the floor. A sigh escapes my lips. "Okay now we can go."

***

"Why?"

"I don't know. But he had my power."

"Until you took the wings?"

I nod, my eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "He couldn't even feel them. I cut them off with a sword and he didn't feel anything."

"Strange," he mutters. "Well, what are you going to do with your wings now?"

"I wanted to ask if you could keep them safe? At least until I figure out what the hell to do with them."

"Tell your mate to put them in the back room. I will keep them with your mother and father's."

"Thank you."

He gives me a nod before walking away. I limp back outside, a crutch under my arm, to see Diana helping Daniel patch up his wounds.

"Why are you guys doing this outside?" I ask.

"I don't want to get blood all over the inside of his house. That's just rude. Plus, he scares the shit out of me," Diana murmurs.

I notice the blood on the grass and sigh. "Yeah, okay fair. But there's more supplies inside and I'm sure you're hungry so it wouldn't be a bad idea to go into the house."

"Fine, come on," she sighs.

I bite the inside of my cheek as she walks past me. Her wings drag on the ground behind her, fully useless and almost completely devoid of feathers.

Daniel pauses beside me. "We should have gone sooner," I tell him before following Diana inside.

"Where can I find some bandages?" She asks.

"Uh here they're in the pantry in the kitchen, Logan keeps medical supplies in here instead of food for whatever reason. Anyway, you can go rest for a little while I grab some things to help patch you up," Daniel says, motioning for her to follow.

I sit down on a chair with a small groan. I drop the crutch on the floor before taking a deep breath and daring to look at my leg again. I rip open my pant leg, sticky with blood, and nausea instantly sweeps over me.

Bile rises in my throat; it takes everything I have to keep it down. "Logan!" I shout, tearing my eyes away.

He suddenly appears in the room, his eyebrows raised. "What?"

"Can you help me fix my leg? They're kind of busy right now and I don't even know where to start with this," I say.

Logan glances at Daniel gathering supplies in the pantry, then back at me before nodding. "The boy did this?" he asks.

"Yeah, he kicked my knee."

"Who was he?"

"I don't know. I feel like I should, but I can't think of a name," I tell him.

He remains silent as he looks over the wound. Blood covers my leg, most of it fresh and dripping onto the floor. Logan stands with a small frown. "We may need to remove your leg."

My eyes fly wide. "Excuse me—what the fuck do you mean—remove my leg?" I demand but he is already walking away. "You son of a bitch that better have been a joke," I grumble as he returns with a small container of medical supplies.

"Of course it was a joke," he mutters.

"It wasn't funny," I snap.

"Your reaction was."

I scowl. "I can see why my mother was friends with you. You have the same sense of humor."

"You remember?"

The surprise in his voice makes my eyebrows furrow. "My mother and father were the only people in my life until I was 8 years old. All of my earliest memories are centered around them. The stories they told me, the things they taught me, the games they played with me," I murmur, trailing off slightly. "The only thing I can't remember is what it felt like to hug them—holy fucking hell what is wrong with you!" I scream, my eyes flying wide at the searing agony tearing up my leg.

"Emotional pain distracts from physical pain," he says.

"You motherfucker," I gasp out. I blink back the tears that blur my vision. The dull throbbing in my head and back inform me that I fell out of the chair when he reset the bone in my leg.

"Ana are you alright?" Daniel hovers over me, panic written across his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Logan is just an asshole," I groan.

"Oh okay. Uh I'm helping Diana fix her wing situation, if you need anything just call—or scream again, that'll work too," he sighs.

"What happened to her wings?" Logan asks once Daniel is out of earshot.

"Didn't you see?"

He shakes his head. "I didn't see her at all."

"Well, her wings were tightly bound and paralyzed for several weeks. They're broken now. I honestly don't know if she'll be able to heal completely on her own," I say, throwing him a pointed look.

"You think I can help her?"

"I know you are extremely powerful Logan, I could feel it from the moment I met you so I know you can do a hell of a lot more than just piss me off and bandage my wounds—I bet you could heal all three of us with a snap of your fingers if you really wanted to but you won't. You won't because I think you're afraid of what you are and I think that's why you won't let Diana know that you're her father."

He smirks. "You need to stop thinking Luci, you're not very good at it."

I purse my lips in annoyance. "Well, you're not very good at being nice. Or telling the truth," I mutter.

"You think I'm lying?"

"I know you're lying."

"You don't even know what I am, how could you possibly know that I'm lying?"

I open my mouth, but no words come out. I hear him chuckle and I bang my hand against the floor in frustration. "Damn it," I hiss.

"This game of wits grows more interesting every time we play," he remarks.

"Yeah whatever, you beat me every time so it's getting less fun. I only play cause it helps distract me from you sticking a needle in my skin," I sigh, my face screwing up in pain.

"You did beat me once."

I crane my head up to look at him. "Really?"

"You were three years old. Your mother asked me to watch over you while she attended a council meeting with your father. You were much more terrifying back then."

"You're kidding."

"I'm not. You knew much more than you should have. You knew things even your parents and I did not."

"How is that possible?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I never figured it out. You refused to tell me anything other than a riddle."

"I told you riddles?"

"A new one every few hours unless I asked for one sooner," he chuckles.

"Damn, I was a lot of fun before the council ruined my life," I grumble under my breath. "Were they good riddles?"

"I figured out all except for two. And to this day, I will never know how a three-year-old got me stuck on a riddle—twice."

"Do you remember what they were? Maybe I can channel my three-year-old self and get them right."

"Anyone can use me, but if you look for me, you won't find me. I am the true difference between the happy and the sad. I can be everything you want, but in reality, I am nothing. What am I?"

I gape at him. "I said that when I was three?"

"You don't know it then?"

"Fuck no! How the hell would I know that?"

"It's your imagination."

"Imagination?" I repeat, a frown crossing my lips.

He nods. "I had guessed money and you told me you were disappointed."

I laugh. "Of course I did. What was the second riddle?"

He blinks a few times, taking a deep breath. "Nearly everyone fears me, those who do not, fear my sister more. She is a lovely liar, but a rare few prefer my painful truth. I can end wars. I can start revolutions. I can take your breath away. I can give you sight. There is very little I cannot do, and so I must be the beginning. What am I?"

"You're making this up there is no way a child would say that," I scoff.

"Why would I lie?"

"I don't know but there's no way! That's way too clever for a toddler to think up!"

"Do you know the answer?"

"Of course not!"

"Luci just think about it. I'm sure you can figure it out," he urges. "Nearly everyone fears me, those who do not fear my sister more. She is a lovely liar, but a rare few prefer my painful truth. I can end wars. I can start revolutions. I can take your breath away. I can make you see. There is very little I cannot do, and so I must be the beginning."

I sigh, chewing on my cheek. "I don't know. Are you love?"

"I am death."

I stare at him, my mouth agape. "Death? I said that death is the beginning? Holy crap what the fuck was wrong with me?" I shriek.

"Like I said, you were terrifying."