Enemy Mine

Chapter 11

It was a dark and stormy night. The clichè popped into my head as I stood looking through the living room window. The conditions outside the cabin had deteriorated from a pleasant breeze to gale force. Yet, Vincent wouldn't back down on his plan to torture me with more flight training.

"When was the last time you looked outside?" I said to him as he washed coffee cups in the sink. "I have a hard enough time just opening my wings. This wind is going to knock me on my ass."  

"Most likely. But, adversity is an obstacle that adds to the reward. What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger. Take your pick." Vincent didn't look up from his task as he delivered more clichès.

"Oh, Vincent. You say the most romantic things."

Giving in, I shuffled to the bedroom to change into my bikini bat suit, and ten drawn-out minutes later, we were making a dash for the lake. Vincent carried a blanket with him, which he tethered to a tree before we proceeded to the beach. I followed his instructions obediently, relaxing into the mantra as I transformed, but my bones still felt like they were rearranging themselves. And, just my luck, things didn't get better from there.

"Son-of-a-monkey wrench!" I cursed as I fell on my wings for the third time.

"It's your stance, Reese. You need to crouch further under conditions like these."

Vincent demonstrated his impressive gollum skills by performing a deep knee bend then popping into the air, sweeping his wings out languidly as he caught an updraft. The wind tugged him a few yards before he tackled the current and subdued it, conquering the elements like a predatory bird. I had trouble focusing on his technique when his pectoral muscles were undulating like that.

"If you're trying to seduce me, it's working," I said. "All I can think about is riding you."

With both taloned feet back on the ground, Vincent came to stand in front of me. I expected his focus on the task at hand face, but he wore a smirk instead. "Why don't we use your preoccupation with my body as a leverage point? If you can manage five controlled seconds in the air, you get carte blanche with me."

I bit down on my lip before remembering I had fangs and stopped immediately. "I'll take that bet. Will you hold my hand while I'm in the air? For added peace of mind."

Vincent rubbed his chin thoughtfully, making me wait for his answer as the wind swept his dark hair across his forehead, softening the edges. A metaphor was hidden in there somewhere. "Five seconds holding my hand, plus five more seconds without my help."

"Ten seconds! That doesn't sound like a fair compromise."

"Who said we were compromising? I was offering an alternative." He grinned wryly, exposing his fangs, and I got distracted again.

"Fine. Five seconds in the air with your help, then five without. And if I break a wing, it's on you and your commando training methods."

"You're not going to break a wing, but face-planting is an ever-present danger. Just use the tuck and roll maneuver I taught you."

"Thanks for the pep talk, chief." I saluted him as I turned to face the wind, spreading my feet apart and crouching over my bent legs. The football center squat is what I called it.

Vincent assumed a semi-crouch in front of me and held out his hand, although it wasn't so much a hand as a weapon. Still, his claws never touched me as he wrapped his fingers around my wrist. Reassured by my gollum tether, I opened my wings, feeling that initial twinge of pressure on my back, then a blast of cold air caught them and swept me right off my feet. If it weren't for Vincent's firm hold, I would have face-planted in superb style. Instead, I had a chance to focus solely on my wings, and I wrestled with the wind for a few seconds as I tip-toed on the sand.