We're Not Gonna Pay

My shoulders were shaking with the effort of trying to suppress sobs. I let my long, dark hair fall over my eyes to hide the misery I was sure must be ravaging my pale face. Next to me, my – what was he? I supposed calling him my guardian angel would be most accurate – wrapped a strong arm around my waist securely. The wings that sprouted from his back, made up of a million beautiful white feathers folded around me too.

‘Why should we pay for what you’ve chosen to do?’ my angel, my saviour, asked coldly of the man standing opposite us.

The situation seemed like a Mexican stand-off in an old Western. The thought made a bubble of hysteria build up, and I mashed a fist into my lips to force away a giggle. One look at the guy across the room sobered me instantly. He was achingly beautiful. His silver hair just tickled his electrically green eyes, which were searching me as though they could see into my soul. For all I knew, they could.

He licked his lips with a dart of his pointed tongue, and I found myself mirroring the gesture. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, though his lips didn’t move. The words just blew into my mind, meant only for me. Then, in an explosion of light and colour, his heart literally shredded inside his chest.

I was sprinting to him immediately. My hands caught his head before it hit the ground, cradling his lifeless body against mine. I felt a hand on my shoulder, but shrugged him off. Even my angel couldn’t console me now. ‘He betrayed his people to save me. You thought he was leaking information to them about my whereabouts, but he was protecting me,’ I breathed.

‘I loved him,’ I admitted, ‘and that’s why he’s dead.’