A Sin For White Wings

Chapter 2 (ep. 6)

"Emma!!"

It was Felix.

I felt a jolt of pure panic. Felix was the person who kept me sane—the kind of friend who knew exactly when a 24-hour shift called for a sugar intervention. He was halfway into the living room before I could even find my voice, wearing a bright yellow sweater and carrying a gold-ribboned box.

"I got the Tiramisu from that place on the corner," Felix announced, his face glowing with a triumphant, sweet grin. "The lady at the counter said it was fresh this morning, and I—"

Felix stopped. He finally saw Vane.

Vane didn't look like a "patient" anymore. He looked like a cornered predator. His eyes were wide, the violet irises nearly swallowed by an obsidian black, and he was vibrating with a terrifying intensity.

"Oh," Felix whispered, his smile faltering into a look of deep concern. "Hey... is he okay? He looks... he looks like he’s having a seizure or something."

"Felix, get out," I breathed, my heart starting a frantic, heavy rhythm. "Now. Just leave the box and go."

But Felix was already moving. He was the sweetest soul I knew; he couldn't see someone in pain without trying to fix it.

"Hey... I'm Felix. I've got you. Just breathe, okay?"

"Quiet!" Vane screamed.

The sound of Felix’s pulse—healthy, rhythmic, and so close—was the final breaking point.

Vane lunged. It wasn't a calculated move; it was a blind, frantic strike to silence the noise. His hand swiped out, nails catching Felix across the chest and shoulder with enough force to throw him backwards.

Felix hit the floor with a sickening thud, the yellow wool of his sweater instantly darkening with a bloom of crimson.

"Vane, no!" I tackled Vane, slamming him back against the fridge.

The sound of Vane hitting the cabinets was heavy, a dull thud that seemed to echo in the sudden, ringing silence of the kitchen. I didn't look at him. I couldn't. I was already on my knees, sliding across the tile toward Felix.

Felix was slumped against the refrigerator, his breath coming in short, sharp hitches. The gold-ribboned Tiramisu box had fallen from the counter, the lid popping open to reveal the dusted cocoa powder—so domestic, so normal—now sitting inches away from a pool of dark, spreading red.

"Felix," I choked out, my hands trembling as I reached for his shoulder. "Felix, look at me."

His eyes were already swimming. Felix didn't do well with blood; he was the guy who stayed in the breakroom when the heavy trauma cases came in. He looked down at his chest, at the three jagged tears in his favourite yellow sweater, and then back at me. His lower lip trembled.

"Emma," he whispered, his voice small and breaking. "He... he hurt me."

The tears spilt over then, hot and fast, tracking through the pale shock on his face. He wasn't screaming. He was just hurt, his heart breaking because he’d tried to be kind and had been met with violence.

Behind me, Vane was a statue. He hadn't moved from where I’d shoved him. He was staring at his own hands, his fingers curled like talons, stained with the vibrant, living red of my best friend. He looked horrified, his jaw working, but no sound coming out. He looked like a man who had just realized he was every bit the monster he claimed to be.

"I've got you, I've got you," I murmured, pulling the fabric of the sweater away to see the damage.

My heart stopped.

The scratches were deep, but that wasn't the problem. Vane had been bleeding too—that dark, shimmering, violet-black ichor from his side. It had smeared across the wounds on Felix's shoulder. It was moving. I watched, paralyzed, as the dark fluid didn't run off his skin but instead seemed to seek out the open veins. It pulsed, sinking into Felix’s flesh like water into dry sand.

Felix let out a tiny, sharp gasp, his body flinching. "It... it burns, Em. It feels like ice."

"I know, I know," I lied, my doctor's brain screaming in the background. I looked over my shoulder at Vane, my eyes fierce and stinging. "Vane! Help me! What is it doing to him?"

Vane didn't move. He looked like he was drifting somewhere far away, his eyes wide and vacant. "The marking," he rasped, his voice barely audible over the hum of the fridge. "It’s too late. It’s already in the stream."

Felix looked at me, his eyes watery and wide with a dawning terror he couldn't name. He was slowly starting to realise his best friend was having a wounded monster in her apartment, yet he couldn't bring himself to get convinced.

"Emma? Why are your eyes like that? Am I... am I going to be okay?"

He reached out his uninjured hand, his fingers catching mine. He was so warm, so human, and the violet veins starting to ghost under his skin were the most terrifying thing I had ever seen.

I looked at the Tiramisu, then at Vane, then back at my best friend, who just wanted to share a cake. The "slow burn" was gone. This was a nightmare.

"Felix, breathe," I said, my voice tight. I pulled the yellow wool away, revealing the jagged marks. "You know the law. You’ve seen the news. Vane is a vampire. His blood is in your system now."

Felix’s eyes went wide, swimming with tears. He looked at the violet veins spreading like a bruise around the scratch. "So if I die... I’m one of them? I'm a vampire?"

"Only if you die," I snapped, trying to sound more confident than I felt. I looked at Vane, who was still paralyzed by the sight of the blood. "But we aren't letting that happen. We’re leaving. If the neighbors called the Wardens, they'll kill Vane and 'retire' you just for being exposed."

"Retire?" Felix’s voice went high and thin. "I just brought cake, Emma! I’m not a biohazard!"

"To them, you are," Vane rasped, finally finding his voice. He looked at Felix with a mix of hunger and self-loathing. "But you're more than that now. My blood... it doesn't just turn people. I’m a Saint of the First Lineage. My blood carries the Covenant."

"We need to get to the Old Sector," Vane said, grabbing a dark coat to hide his blood-stained scrubs. "Before the sun reaches its peak. Felix, grab the Tiramisu."

"The cake?" Felix blinked, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "You just turned me into a supernatural ticking bomb and you want me to bring the cake?"

"You're going to need the sugar," Vane said darkly, his eyes flashing violet. "The blood in your veins is going to start burning through your energy like a furnace. If you don't eat, you'll faint. And if you faint, your heart rate drops. If it drops too low..."

"I turn," Felix whispered, clutching the gold-ribboned box like a life jacket.

"I'll drive," I said, grabbing my keys. "Felix, get in the back. Vane, get on the floorboards and stay under the blanket. We're getting out of the city."