Page 34 of Lost Feather
“Oh? Who was it?” This reminded me of the sort of gossip I’d shared with friends at school a few lifetimes ago.
Sunny made a subtle gesture with one hand, waving at a group of four Protectors who were clustered together a few groupings away, whispering furiously. “That’s Clarity over there, the one with the brownish wings with white at the tips. Don’t stare.”
But I hadn’t even looked at Clarity. I’d just realized what Sunny had said. “Hold on. Youwatched her first merge? Her first mental, spiritual, and physical hook-up… Did you creep into her room or something?”
Sunny’s forehead crinkled. “Um, no. I told you, we were at The Merge.”
It dawned on me. “Sanctuary has a sex club?” I was going to have to reconsider quite a few of my judgments about this place.
She coughed. “Um, no, it’s like a temple. We leave our cares, our inhibitions—and sometimes our robes—at the doorway and go in fully open to giving and receiving our deepest selves. The music is lovely, and the light show alone is worth going for.” She hummed happily, her eyes fluttering shut.
My screech made them pop back open. “In public? You all get together every night for raves and public hook-ups? Honey, I don’t care if you call it a temple, that is one hundred percent a sex club.” Maybe I could get lucky in Sanctuary. But to do it in front of all of those judgy angels? I shuddered. “Does anyone merge in private?”
Sunny’s forehead went even crinklier. “Well, yes. I mean, I’ve heard of people merging in their own rooms, but that’s considered sort of deviant. The sharing of one’s innermost parts is a sacred thing, not something to be ashamed of. You’ll see. Someday you’ll be purified enough to merge, and you’ll experience the bliss.” She paused. “And someday, I will, too.”
I pushed back from the table and stood. “Listen, Sunny. I wish you all the luck getting your ticket punched in public. When and if I share my ‘innermost parts’ with some other Protector—” A harsh laugh cut me off, and I swung around to see who had braved the stench to say hello. I should have known. “Oh hey, Ry. You look… shiny. Really, really golden today. Wow.”
It was true. He seemed extra sparkly that morning. Like he had gotten his hands on some sort of super angel glow moisturizer. Even his hair was more shimmery, like a raven’s wing. I was about to ask him what he used for conditioner, like the blood of Edward Cullen or unicorn jizz, when the corner of his mouth curled up in lazy amusement.
“Thanks. You look short. How did I not notice that before?” He stepped closer, peering down his nose. It was true; I barely came up to his chest. “You really don’t measure up in any way, do you? Are you sure you’re even a Protector under all that smut?”
“That’s what they tell me,” I sassed, putting a hand on one hip. “Why? What do I look like to you?”
He shrugged, dissecting me with his eyes. “Maybe a scrap. Maybe the Maker was running out of soul stuff for the last batch of Novices and you were a scrap he found on the floor.”
My face heated. “Question for you, Ry. Does acting like an ashhole make you extra shiny? Because that would explain a few things.”
He just laughed. “Oh, you noticed my glow? A few good merges will do that for a Protector, little scrap.” He turned away, dismissing me, and scanned a flustered Sunny with a glance. “You’re close to being pure enough to merge, Sunny. Very close. I’ve noticed the care you’re taking as a guide for this… unfortunate thing.”
I felt my jaw drop open. Weren’t these Protectors supposed to be virtuous? Ry sounded like a genuine manwhore. I could practically smell the ego drifting off him in waves, like a high-end men’s cologne with notes of musk and entitlement. I sniffed, wondering if I really did smell something.
Sunny made sounds like she was swallowing her tongue. “You’d consider a merge? With me?” The whole Dining Hall went quiet, as if everyone had been half-listening to the conversation and was now paying close attention.
He laughed again, clearly amused. “Ah, no. But give it a few more weeks of sacrificial labor and plenty of purification baths, and I’ll ask around. I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone who’s not afraid of getting their robes a little dirty.”
I could tell what he’d said was an insult, since Sunny dropped her face to the ground, sniffling once. Righteous let out an aggrieved sigh and faced me again, opening his mouth to speak. Whatever he was going to say, I didn’t want to hear it. He’d been an ashhole to me, and mean to my friend—even if Sunny was only my friend for whatever sort of Protector point system they obviously had going on here. He’d gone one step over the line, and now it was payback time.
“Oh my gosh, Righteous. You would do that for my friend?” I asked earnestly, batting my eyes.
“Uh…” He hesitated, clearly taken aback. His gaze darted around us. “Of course?”
“Thank you!” I squealed the words high and long enough that he and all the Protectors around us flinched—which led to the perfect opportunity. While Righteous had his hands up over his ears, I went in for a hug. “Thank you, thank you, Ry-Ry. You’re so amazing! Helping us poor little dirty baby Protectors, shining your amazing glow all over us.” As I blathered, I hugged him tighter.
“Stop— I don’t want you to—” He sputtered, but I kept hugging, making sure to rub my hands, arms, and every other part of me that was muck-encrusted over as many parts of him as possible. I felt a little guilty doing it, but Sunny had assured me this surface smut washed off pretty fast. This would only cost him a bath… and a smidge of dignity.
“Thank you, thank you!” I shouted as he began to complain louder, desperately trying to pry me off.
“That’s enough!” he growled.
“No, I really want you to know how much Iappreciateyourkindness,” I simpered. I had practically climbed him, and squeezed my arms and legs around him now as tightly as possible. Trying to back away, he tripped over a pillow, and we both went tumbling to the floor, me still stuck like a tick to his torso.
“Get off me! Stop touching me!” His initial shock had now been replaced entirely by rage. He reached down to peel me away, then froze, as if he’d only then realized he was getting his hands knuckle-deep in my filth.
“Yeah, Righteous. Fingers that dirty are a real birch to clean,” I whispered in his ear. “I’ll loan you a special knife to get your nails done.”
He hissed. “Hands off, Scrap, before I tear them off for you.”
I couldn’t help it. I’d muddied every exposed bit of skin, except his face. And being so short, I would never get this chance again. As fast as a farking cobra, I lunged at his cheek. With my lips. I prepared to lay the sloppiest, filthiest, wettest kiss I could muster right on the Protector’s perfect golden cheek.
