A Shadow of Wings by Linda Gayle Page A

over Cam’s back, over Cam’s hair, then kissed his cheek softly. “Poor lonely thing,” he murmured. “My poor angel.”
    “I’m no angel,” Cam whispered back, his cheek pressed against Dylan’s neck. 
    “Are you sure about that?”
    A chill poured through Cam’s veins. He froze, his arms tight around Dylan’s lean, tense body. “What do you mean?”
    Dylan pulled back and stared at him. Cam was careful not to meet his eyes directly, but he could see the sober expression from the edge of his vision. “You don’t gotta hide nothing from me,” Dylan said, sliding his fingers down to grip Cam’s hands. “I don’t care that you’re different.”
    “I’m just a man,” he said, wishing it were so. Wishing it with every fiber of his accursed being. His breath came short and fast as the walls closed in on him. 
    Dylan shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”
    “Why do you say that?” When Dylan said nothing, Cam’s heart lodged in his throat. “What do you see?” 
    He gave a weak shrug. “Wings?”
    “Oh God, no.” He struggled to his knees. “It’s impossible.”
    “Okay, hey, maybe that’s not what I see.” Dylan wouldn’t let go of Cam’s hands, and as if he had some strange magic that sucked the energy from Cam’s trembling muscles, Cam remained kneeling, facing him. “Shh. Don’t flip out on me, it’s cool.”
    “Tell me.” Cam stared hard at the center of Dylan’s chest. “Tell me exactly what you see.”
    “I wish you’d look at me.”
    “Tell me.”
    “Just… Shadows, behind you. Around us. Not always.”
    Impossible, and yet, clearly, possible. Dylan must surely feel the tremors coursing through Cam’s body. He’d heard the expression “trembling with fear,” but until now had never experienced it. 
    “Dylan, you must listen and listen well. Forget all I’ve told you tonight. Forget my name, that you ever knew me, as I shall forget you.” Summoning the last of his strength, he ripped his hands from Dylan’s and staggered to his feet, then stumbled toward the door. 
    Somehow, Dylan beat him to it, wedging himself between Cam and the exit. “I won’t forget you, asshole. What the hell? What do you think is going to happen?” 
    Cam shouldered past him, got a hand on the knob. Dylan threw himself back against the door. Utterly frustrated, Cam growled out, “I’m not like you.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    “Don’t make me prove it.” God, please don’t make me prove it.
    Dylan bunched the front of Cam’s shirt in his hands, tried to force him to meet his gaze. Cam wrenched his head away. His eyes would burn, scald. 
    “There’s nothing wrong with you. I don’t know what you are, and I don’t want to know. All right? Don’t tell me. I don’t care. I shouldn’t have said nothing. I just want you.”
    “Want me?” He couldn’t stop a huff of cold laughter. “Oh, Dylan. This can never be.” 
    Tash was right—mixing with humans led to disaster. Cam tried to force open the door with Dylan’s determined weight against it, but strong fists grabbed him, pushed him up against the wall. Cam could only gasp when Dylan caught his face between his hands and slid his mouth over his. A jolt of pure heat left his knees weak, and for one moment, one sweet, suspended moment, he tasted all he’d lost, all he’d desired, in this one man’s kiss. And so it was he stood stunned enough that he forgot to shield his eyes when Dylan pulled back to berate him further.
    As any human would, Dylan tried to search Cam’s eyes. 
    “No…” Cam turned his head, too late. Dylan gave a strangled bark of shock, then crumpled as if struck, the sound of his knees hitting the hardwood floor a sharp crack, his arms crossed over his head. His voice rose in a wordless, keening cry that knifed through Cam’s heart. God knew what nightmares swarmed his mind. “Dylan.” Cam reached out, then pulled back his hand. 
    Useless. There was nothing he could do. No