The Alpha had a right to laugh at my suggestion, so I am surprised when he doesn't.
"You want to give her your crest," he asks, eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. "You don't even know her."
"I know it's crazy," I push back defensively, "but I've got a feeling about this. I think the protection is necessary."
My proposal comes after another surge of Thunderbird activity, directly near our well-observed house. Mid-afternoon, the western sun raging down over us. I was with Sam doing a routine check on the place, as directed by The Alpha. Sam is cunning with reflexes faster than anything I've ever seen. We don't know each other well – Sam is an avid night-watcher and is close with Scout – but we know our roles and we know how to do this job. He pats me on the shoulder as we exit base.
"Easy afternoon, hey?" he grins at me and I respond with a shrug and a laugh. What's the worst that could happen?
What did happen was Thunderbirds. Two of them, too far above the clouds for our sharp eyes to see, but their presence was so tangible, it felt they were right before us.
"They're circling the house," Sam notes after a moment. I nod because I've felt it too. And I'm worried for those inside. We stay for almost thirty minutes, and then the birds move on. It's confirmed. There is something in that house that they want. And I'm no longer playing my cards. It is the girl they want. I have a hunch and I've never been wrong yet. I return to base and demand to see The Alpha, Scout in tow.
Beside me, Scout is silent, trying to make sense of my idea. It's unconventional which is where his brain sends alarms, but even he has to accept that it is deeply effective.
"It's cutting out any surprises," I add, "if she's wearing the crest, we have a leg up over the Thunderbirds."
The Alpha doesn't respond but I know he's already agreed.
Each of our kind, regardless of position or family, has a crest. The crest is a mark of sorts. It is an heirloom passed down through generations. The youngest of the family group will always posses it, myself falling into the current category. While the crest does not hold individual strength, it is bonded by power that only history can bring. It is used as a form of identity and protection to the youngest of the family tribe. When the youngest wears the crest, they are supernaturally protected with the strength of those who have previously worn it.
The crest is often transferred when a child is born, during a ceremonial gifting. In order for the crest's power to be established on the new family member, it must pass from the owner's hands to theirs. This is my plan. To give the girl the crest.
"I don't need it," I add offhandedly. Next to me, Scout snorts. The Alpha chuckles wryly. The crest's protection is enormous, but I am trained and gifted, and my own power keeps me safe enough. I am known for nothing if not my skill.
"Clever," The Alpha concludes in reference to my plan.
"You should do it. If she turns out to be nothing, we can reclaim it."
Something inside of me eases. She's going to be safe. The girl won't be harmed. The fragile moonlit child is not going to ever have to face the disturbing warfare of our kind.
"I'll bring it to her, then?"
"Yes," The Alpha responds matter-of-factly. "Do it today."
YOU ARE READING
When Wings Burn
Paranormal"Do you have a name?" "Harper. Just Harper." In a dangerously utilitarian world, Harper longs to experience the illegal. Whispers and hints of supernatural activity are everywhere, and yet one show of interest will mean immediate death. With no stor...
