Of course I’m shielding her, you broken feather!

the mad have a grace all their own

I staggered backward-her one hand gripping my shoulder, the other still holding my wrists behind her-and she followed until my back hit the wall.

Hate is all that keeps us alive when love is gone. You’re almost there. Not quite ready to let it go yet.

The gentle sound of her words became the shushing of my blood in my head, and I listened, hovering on the edge of consciousness, bathed in the oblivion of whatever drug they had given me.

Jenks made a move to follow, probably forgetting he didn’t have wings anymore. He leaned forward and fell to the floor, face first. “Jenks!” I shouted when he hit with a dull smack and started swearing.

It was starting to smell really good in here. And if I liked what it smelled like, then they were liking what they were smelling, and ah…that would be me.