Book IV: Avi Dragon

Gabriel's Bargain

Angel stood there, words coming and going in her brain, for several moments. "So... does that make you my... father, or my blood brother--without the blood, I assume?"
   "Yes."
   Her lips twisted. She wasn't sure what she was feeling, but it wasn't amusement. "So that's why I have feathers."
   "It's also why I sound more... human."
   Her brow furrowed a small herb garden. "So... you took something from me, too?"
   She got the impression he winced, though she couldn't say how. And then, she knew for certain that he did. It was considerably disconcerting to see what emotions looked like on your own face.
   Her knees wobbled, but held firm. "Well," she wheezed, "at least now you have a form that people can comprehend, I suppose."
   So that's what disgust looks like on my face.
   "Dad thinks it's a win/win." Her feet, or feet that looked like hers would have, if they'd never broken a bone, whispered through the grass as Gabriel resumed his pacing. "He gets the ultimate weapon for good, and His most loyal soldier--next to Michael, of course--gets the ability to deliver His word without frying people's brains. That's the only way to get through to people who can't see me, if you didn't know. Again, not that you'll remember.
   "That's the problem with this body: limited storage capacity. To whit..."
   An untwisted version of her own hand lashed out, tapped the back of her head with two fingers. Angel jerked upright. Her feet walked toward the house, eyes glowing electric blue. Footprints in the soil behind her faded before they'd fully formed. When she reached the bottom of the porch stairs, the light in her eyes went out. She fell forward on her hands and knees, shaking her head to clear it of the sudden fog of fatigue.
   Avriel heard the sound and sprang through the door. Angel wobbled up the few stairs, standing straighter with each one, until she stood before him.
   "All done. I think I'd like to go to bed now."
   He clasped her elbow lightly to guide her indoors, watching out for her wings as she stepped through the doorway. He tucked one in a little more, to avoid snagging on the knob, and she shivered.
   Angel snapped out of her fog when her in-laws half stood, gaping at her.
   "What's wrong?" she asked, turning toward the door. A wing clipped a glass of water, which she caught before it could so much as tilt.
   She saw the lavender scale feathers in her peripheral, and her legs wavered under her. Avi guided her to the ground, so she didn't bend any of her primaries.
   "When did I get feathers?" Her hazy eyes swung from person to person, but no one had answers.
   "It must've been while you were outside, setting up the protections. Maybe you... I dunno, remembered you were supposed to have feathers..?" Mike knew the least about dragons, but he did know that she hadn't had feathers the last time he saw her, nor when she left the house. Occam's razor suggested the time frame, but not how she grew feathers.
   "If I remembered then, I don't now. I... I really need to lie down."
   "Okay, sweetheart. Let's get you to bed. Do you maybe want to put those away before you lie down?" Avi led her to the bedroom, ready to catch her if she fainted.
   "I don't know if I can, right now. I just want to rest. I'll worry about my wings in the morning."
   "As you wish."
   Her step faltered, but she didn't acknowledge his words, otherwise. She crumpled to the bed, her energy spent. She'd done a lot of spellwork tonight, besides being half-Shifted. Gabriel hadn't given her any of his energy when he marched her inside, and she hadn't eaten again, so her body demanded she stop using it for about eight hours, to recharge.
   The baby wasn't thrilled with having baby food for dinner. She knew something wasn't right with Mama, and she fussed throughout the meal that her mother slept through. She wouldn't sleep in the crib her grandparents had bought, either. She wasn't happy until she was tucked within her mother's coiled form. Her grandparents were equally unhappy that she refused the crib.
   "I'm sure she'll sleep in it tomorrow," Avi said. He tucked the sheet under her tiny chin, which left her mother half uncovered, but he could lend her his body heat if she needed it. She'd been difficult to maneuver under the covers, with the wings, but the men had managed it while Shelly was trying to get the baby to lie in the crib.
   "Of course she will," Mike agreed. "We'll see you in the morning." He guided his wife out of the room, to their own bedroom. They talked for quite some time before they drifted off, coming to very few conclusions.
   Avriel undressed and slid into bed, unsure how to embrace his wife. Though the feathers were thicker than any he'd ever seen, more closely resembling scales, he was afraid to damage them. It was a warm evening, so she didn't really need body heat, but he had a hard time falling asleep if they weren't close. It was like his subconscious thought that if he wasn't touching her when his eyes were closed, she'd turn back into the cold dragon again.
   His arms were long enough to reach her waist, around the wings tucked so carefully behind her back. He was afraid of crushing them in the night, but they seemed fairly solid. All the same, he didn't sleep as well as everyone else in the house. In the end, he wound up turning on his other side, wings to back. It was enough physical contact to relax, and far less worry.
   In the morning, she was wrapped around him, the big spoon for once. When his foggy brain registered that fact, his next immediate thought was the baby.
   Angel groaned, a sleepy growl. "Please don't move. If you open your eyes, you'll see her. Just... Please stay still, would you? You make a lovely hot water bottle."
   When he opened his eyes, he saw their daughter curled in the lee of his body. When did she get there?
   "'Bout an hour ago. I had to... use the bathroom, and I didn't want her to fall."
   She sounded odd. He wanted to turn to her, hold her, but she held him in place quite firmly. Her words slowly filtered into his sleepy brain.
   His head twisted her way. "Why do you need a hot water bottle?"
   Her forehead ground into his temple. "Let's just say skipping dinner last night was... unwise."
   He patted the arm around his midsection. "Want me to get you some breakfast?"
   Suddenly, the warmth at his back vanished. Footsteps thudded down the hall to the bathroom. She hadn't closed the door, so he heard the awful sounds she was making. His stomach twisted along with hers.
   "Are you sure it isn't morning sickness?" he heard his mother ask.