Baby laughed and stopped in front of her. Her wings were too big to fold out of the way entirely. They surrounded her like a dark halo. The newly teenaged girl nodded over her shoulder and said, “Pretty wicked, yes?”
Mel nodded, looking at the raven dark feathers. They glistened as the cold mist gathered on their individual strands.
“Watch this,” Baby said.
The wings grew less substantial as she watched, losing solidity. Within seconds, the gleam of wet pavement was visible through them, though a dark shadow remained. Her mouth finally free from the shock that kept her silent, Mel asked, “When do I get some of those?”
Again, Baby laughed, then nodded over Mel’s head. “Who says you don’t?”
Jerking to look over her shoulder, Mel turned in a circle like a cat chasing her tail. All she saw was shadows. Frowning at Baby, she said, “Are you messing with me?”
“No. You do have them, but they’re still faint shadows for now. I can see them just fine.”
Shadows? Mel’s mind involuntarily went back to the doctor in his hospital bed, how he’d seemed to be looking around her at something that terrified him. The woman in the cast whose song she had in her phone had looked too, but not with fear. That had been almost eager.
Nodding, Mel blew out a breath and said, “I have so many questions I can’t even keep them straight.”
Tucking her arm under Mel’s, Baby urged them along the dark street. “That’s why I’m here. Ask away.”
Mel thought for a moment. Which ones were the most important? What would help answer other questions? It was useless. When she opened her mouth, the floodgates opened with it. “What are we? What are you? Why so many colors and what do they mean? When can I fly? Can I? And how the heck am I supposed to go to work looking like this?”
Baby only shook her head, bemused, then squeezed Mel’s arm. “All good questions. Can we sit in your car? Better yet, let’s go get some fake, non-dairy cocoa. It’s cold and this isn’t a great place to stand in the street.”
Mel gave Baby a look. “And you’re worried about muggers? Can’t you just beat them to death with your giant frigging wings?”
“Mel, immortal doesn’t mean indestructible. We only keep living as long as we stay alive, if you get my meaning. If you get shot or stabbed, you can still die.”
“That sucks,” Mel murmured, then dug her key fob out of her pocket. The car flashed its lights, and Mel hurried their steps a little. Baby let go and slid into the car. When Mel got around the car and inside, the first thing she did was look to see how the wings fit. There was nothing there, just a shadow that loomed a little too large behind the girl, spilling a faint darkness into the back seats.
“Cocoa?”
Mel nodded and waved the fob at the car so it would start. Her stomach felt as empty as a canyon. “I’m starving. I’m thinking diner. I’m thinking loads of greasy, delicious food. Can you do that?”
Baby rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
They returned to the city. Mel felt better the moment she passed the water. This city was a cesspit, mingling unnatural wealth gathered from the tears of the downtrodden with the equally unnatural squalor of those who’d stopped caring, but it was home. It was the only place Mel felt at ease.
She parked at a city lot where cops could always find a spot, then led Baby to a good diner in companionable silence. As always, the city seemed full and bright, no matter the time of day. The diner was busy, the air perfumed with the scent of French toast and coffee. The slight undercurrent of old socks was there, but Mel had already gotten used to the way beef and pork smelled to her now. She didn’t yet understand why, though.
“Baby, why does meat and dairy smell bad?” she asked, leading them to the booth indicated by the waitress unloading plates at a table.
“Cruelty,” she answered, sliding onto the plastic covered bench seat.
“Huh?”
The girl shrugged, wiping down the table with a napkin she plucked from a chrome dispenser. “It’s just one of those things. You’ll be okay with fish, because they don’t understand. Even farmed fish are okay. Anything with real feelings, though?” She paused and shook her head. “That’s out. You can taste and smell cruelty now.”
“That’s fucked up. Uh, I mean…”
“Your language is fine. It is fucked up.” Balling up the napkin and pushing it to the side, she eyed Mel. “I’ve heard from some of the others that there are small farms that practice a new form of cattle raising and slaughter down south that are okay. Supposedly, they leave no trace of former slaughter where they kill them, so the cow never knows they’re about to die and they live happy lives. They say the meat tastes fine, but I’ve not tried it. It’s not worth it.”
“Others. Is that what I saw out there on the street? The white glow? And why so many? Was that on purpose so I’d know they were there? And what’s with the other colors? Yellow and blue and all the rest.”
“Down to business then?” Baby asked, then stopped when the waitress arrived at their table. They ordered, with Mel ordering enough for two, then waited while the cups were brought. Soy cocoa for Baby, coffee for Mel. She would normally avoid caffeine this late, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t be getting much sleep.
“The colors? The others?” Mel prompted when the waitress left.
“The others were there to see you and sort of welcome you. It’s actually pretty rare to see others at work. As to the colors, white means us, but it’s not really white, just clear light. Blue is normal people. Yellow is different and it changes. Bright
