7.The Perils of Taking Flight

7. The Perils of Taking Flight

The picture becomes clearer as the week progresses. I learn more about the situation I'm coming into and the particulars I'm working with.

Six years ago, 22-year-old Azure Serrano had a sexual relationship with two electricbrands in the same year. One of them was a jilted lover who afflicted him with a revenge curse that persists to this day.

"At first the curse seemed like nothing more serious than a trick buzzer," Az says. "The kind that really cheesy people waste their money on to shock people with as a silly prank or party game. You give a little zap to whoever shakes your hand."

"Did you try law enforcement?" I ask. "Either supernatural or not? "

"Yeah, but law enforcement is the same everywhere. Stealing a banana or kicking someone isn't as bad as stabbing or murder. They prioritize the biggest offenses first, and the curse didn't seem capable of serious harm. Even now it's only capable of doing real damage under the right circumstances, just like any other weapon, I guess. And I freely admitted that the wizard responsible for the curse had every right to use a little magical retribution."

"But you didn't know it would last so long."

"Nope," he agrees. "The consensus was I'd have a few rough months, learn a very important lesson, and not piss off people with magical powers in the future. So, my problem was shuffled off to academics instead of law enforcement, people who could help me figure this out a bit faster. Obviously, that didn't work. And now the people in legal channels say their hands are tied until they get something new they can act on. Otherwise, it's just my word against his that he did this to me."

While there are ways of tracing magic back to a caster, the authorities would need consent or enough evidence to perform a trace. There are also two possible suspects, which adds to the confusion. Even the lifting condition is still a mystery years later.

The particulars of what I'm working on become clearer. Who I'm working with, however, remains distant .

"How was your weekend?"

"It happened," Az says. "Now it's over."

What a charmer.

"Mine was busy. I'm helping a friend with his garden and—"

He waves a hand and stops me. "Marty, Marty, Marty. Did I ask?"

This isn't quite what I meant when telling him we needed to be professional. Pleasantries are a part of being professional, but he has none to spare for me. I think we got too close for comfort when he admitted to remembering me from Airadise. The boundaries blurred a bit and he's tried to distance himself since then.

Azure isn't much of a sharer, so I dig into the boxes and research curses instead.

Curses can be a powerful tool for things like punishment and revenge because they don't respond to traditional methods to undo magic. Spells, for example, are more versatile but are much easier to reverse. Curses are difficult to pull off but result in strong magic when successful. However, their strength has a tradeoff.

A curse can't be broken or undone by other methods because the conditions to lift it are built into the curse. Only two methods will lift a well-made curse.

One, the curse maker can decide the cursed person has been punished enough and absolve them… This does happen sometimes, usually when the maker faces legal or other pressures and decides it's best for everyone to lift the curse.

The other method involves the cursed person fulfilling the condition to lift the curse. This is normally something suitable and unpleasant, but there's no how-to manual that comes with a curse, so this condition remains a mystery years later.

There are theories about what will unlock Az's curse, things that fit in with the punishment and the crime, but none are right or the theories haven't gone far enough, or else he'd be free by now.

What I do know is that I brought extra food to work today. "If you're getting hungry, I have some leftovers. Tried a new recipe and it—"

"No need to wine and dine me," Az interrupts my polite lunch offer.

"There's no wine."

"Then I'm even less interested."

One week turns into two. Falling into a research rabbit hole and becoming obsessed with finding answers would be easy with a case like this.

My mother has taken it upon herself to remind me not to become too consumed with work. It's important to take time for myself and relax too. However, her ideas…

Marty: All of those suggestions lead to either jail or serious agony .

Mom: What? No. I'm only suggesting a small tattoo! And nothing worse than a misdemeanor.

"Is there some sort of class mothers can take to be maternal?" I ask Az as he arrives in the classroom. "Or maybe there's a mom gene? Whatever it is, my mom never got hers."

"Yeah," he grunts like that means anything.

Az grabs his phone from his back pocket and promptly ignores me, same as always. I understand that he chose to keep this opportunity small and not involve unnecessary people, but I wouldn't mind having someone to bounce ideas off.

I suspect that Az is tired of people waltzing in and out, poking into his life and mistakes and then dropping him when they hit a dead end. His reluctance makes sense, but we need to communicate a little for any hope of success.

"We can be professional and still get along," I say. "Let's make this a little less painful."

"You don't know how to do small talk," he accuses.

"Oh, really?" I raise an eyebrow. "Of the two of us, I'm the problem?" My only options for conversation in our classroom are him or the boxes… the boxes may be better.

"McFly," he huffs. "Half of your conversation starters sound like a damn personal ad."

Okay, I can't even touch part of that. "I told you to call me Marty— "

"Intelligent airbrand with mommy issues likes reading good books, gardening," he adopts a breathy, ditzy voice that sounds nothing like me. "And being a nerd. My idea of a perfect first date: I cook you dinner and then we go on an intimate nighttime flight."

"You've taken most of that entirely out of context and I've never mentioned dates or night flying—"

"Those parts I saw firsthand," he says. "Thought you didn't want me to forget."

"No, I knew you didn't forget, there's a difference." I stop and get myself under control before getting drawn into a squabble.

Azure Serrano isn't an easy person to get to know. What was he like before the curse? If he was guarded before, he's a fortress now.

We aren't colleagues or friends. We're still strangers.

I sit at the desk in the classroom-turned-office, reviewing my research notes while stealing glances at Az, who occupies the opposite corner of the room. He's glued to his phone, completely disinterested in everything else.

I can't help but think that maybe if I share a bit more of myself, he'll open up too. Magic is such a huge part of who I am, so I decide to see if it can bridge some of the distance between us .

"Hey, Az, is there any air magic you'd like to see?"

"Nope." He doesn't even look up from his phone.

"Really? Most people want to fly."

His eyes flick to me for a split second before going back to his phone. "Not interested."

"You don't want to fly, not even a little?"

"Do you remember anything you read in those files? You should already know the answer."

"I can guess, but I'm asking you."

"Of course I want to fly, dumbass." Az scowls, his fingers clenching around his phone. "But in case you forgot, I'm cursed. Flying is impossible for me while I'm a damn lightning rod."

"Maybe I can help."

He puts his phone away to give me his full, pissed off attention. "I don't need your help or anyone else's, not to fly. I'm a dragon shifter. My wings get the job done just fine." His face twists in a scowl. "It's what happens when I get up in the sky that's the problem."

He shoves his phone into his back pocket and storms toward the door. Before I can react, he's gone, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Until gaining access to the files, I had no idea he was a shifter. Now I understand where the talon he wears around his neck comes from. The item isn't a trophy taken by a killer like we once argued about in the coffee shop. It was given willingly, either from the man himself or from someone in his horde. He still wears the talon around his neck, a reminder of his other side.

And how badass is it that dragons don't have packs? They have hordes instead. Very badass.

But Az doesn't have a horde anymore. He's been separated from them and everyone else while the curse persists.

I hurry after him and find Az slumped against the wall, looking more defeated than I've ever seen him.

"Flying is tricky when you're a giant lightning rod," he says. "Dragon hide is tough, so I don't get hurt from one hit. It's just a bitch to deal with the strikes that send me crashing to the ground, especially when they keep happening."

"So you haven't been able to fly in six years?"

"If only." Az laughs, the sound harsh in the quiet hallway. "I haven't really been able to shift in six years."

"What, the curse prohibits—"

"No. I can shift. But I spend as little time in my dragon form as possible. It's too—" painful, difficult, unbearable? "I try to shift and stay on the ground, but not being able to take to the sky as a dragon? It feels so wrong. The urge is so strong. When I can't resist, I fly and get struck. "

The true cost of the curse is greater than I imagined. It doesn't only cut Azure off from other people, it makes a part of himself inaccessible too.

My heart aches, seeing the raw pain in his eyes, the longing for the freedom he's lost. But I'm not giving up on him.

Finally, a problem I can solve.

"I have an idea."

"Marty—"

"Just give me a chance. Come on."

~

Az stays seated on the floor, not listening to me. He does not believe I have a brilliant idea. So rude.

Standing near him, I make urgent motions with my hands and try to get him up. I nudge him with my shoe. He doesn't budge.

Switching to a new tactic, I turn on my heel and walk down the hallway past our classroom. I head for the stairs.

"Hey, where are you going?"

I keep walking.

"What's going on? Come back! I'm not going to follow you just because you're walking away…"

Curiosity wins out .

Az catches up and follows me as I lead him to the university gym, currently empty and quiet. The basketball court stretches out before us.

His hands are stuffed into his pockets and he watches me warily, but I'm on a mission now and don't let him slow me down. He should know by now that I never give up that easily.

"Let me try something?"

Az waves a hand, rolling his eyes in exasperation but giving me the go ahead.

Concentrating, I summon my magic. My hair sways as a gentle breeze kicks up. Directing and growing the air, it becomes a current. I guide the current with a sweep of my hand and target him. The magical wind propels him into the air, and he shoots up, rising as high as the tops of the basketball hoops that bracket the court.

"Whoa, hey!" he shouts.

"Just relax and—"

"Sorry, okay, I'm sorry I called you a nerd."

"What? I'm not angry. I'm helping you?"

"Don't drop me!"

"Oh, don't drop you? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"McFly, come on!"

"I'm not going to drop you. I know what I'm doing." Mostly. Magically creating and manipulating air currents and floating things are second nature for me at this point, but it isn't usually another person that I float.

Az looks equal parts ridiculous and confused, swaying slightly in the air. Slowly, I direct a gust of wind to push him a few feet away. He gives a startled yelp, windmilling his arms and dangling about like he's being tossed in a storm.

I try to direct his body through the air. Whether he's moving into my efforts or trying to fight them, I can't tell.

"This isn't working."

"You aren't the one being tossed around like a leaf!"

"Maybe if I give you control… Hold on, I'm bringing you back down."

I bring him back down in front of me, our feet almost touching. Az is breathing hard, eyes bright, but I can't tell what he's thinking. I reach out with my magic, letting it flow around and through him. I don't physically touch him, but I swear I feel sparks jumping between us.

It's tricky to give him flight when I sense the curse reacting to my magic. So instead, I stop trying to enchant him and pull a trick quarter from my pocket and cast a spell on it.

"Here. Put this in your back pocket." I hand him the coin.

Az inspects the quarter in his palm, turning over the other side and finding an eagle on both sides .

"Double eagles?" he snorts. "And you say you aren't McFly."

I can't help cracking a smile. "Okay, maybe it's not the worst nickname in the world."

"Yeah? What about boundaries?" he reminds me.

"Every time you invite someone in to help with your curse, it's personal to you. How can it not be? It's your life. So, I should offer up some of my own personal details too. We can be friends."

"You're the boss, McFly."

We might stand there staring at each other for a second or two too long. That's the trick here. He's been burned—no, he's been electrocuted—enough times that he isn't going to open up to someone he doesn't know or trust.

We need to get closer in a professional, friendly way, in ways that are safe. And we need to avoid other minefields, like how his gaze seared through me when he said, ‘ now you know why I pretended not to know you. Romance isn't an option.'

He's right. Romance isn't an option, not in these circumstances. We need to get closer to work together well. Close but not too close.

I haven't quite figured out how to do that yet. One step at a time.

Finally, he drags his eyes away, looking down at the quarter in his palm once more. He shrugs and decides to go along with me, tucking the coin into his back pocket. He looks to me for guidance about what comes next.

"Jump," I encourage him, and he takes a leap of faith, soaring into the air. Not quite knowing how to control the power I've given him, he flips and slides across the room. I reach out with my air magic to stabilize him, asking, "Are you okay?"

"Let me go," he laughs, finally wearing a genuine smile.

I do, and he rockets across the court, looping and diving with all the grace of a falling anvil. But he's grinning bigger than I've ever seen.

He shoots across the gym, too fast and clumsy, since he isn't a dragon flying through the air but a person this time.

Once he gets the hang of it, Az zips back and forth, testing his control. Then he calls down, "Come join me!"

I rise up and we soar together under the high ceiling. He looks so different like this - free, happy, fully himself.

"Hey Marty, come on! Let's race!"

"Alright, you're on!"

We position ourselves at one end of the gym, both of us eager to win.

"Three, two, one... go!" he exclaims as he takes off with surprising speed. I quickly follow suit, my body propelled by the force of my air magic .

We dart through the air towards the other side of the gym. I push myself, propelling forward like a bullet. Inches away from the finish line, I narrowly edge out Az to claim victory.

"Wow, you're fast," he admits, grinning from ear to ear. He isn't even upset that he lost. "Rematch?"

"Absolutely," I reply, more than happy to indulge him. It's not often that I have a flying partner, let alone one as enthusiastic and eager as him.

He wins the next two races and I'm debating whether to let him stay victorious or whether I should challenge him again and try to tie up the score. Maybe we should just fly for a while, no competition.

A door bangs open and a coach strides in. "Practice starts in five!" he shouts.

"Guess we better land," I say with a smile.

"Wait! Can we do this again?"

"Sure. I'll put us on the schedule."

Az really does look beautiful when he smiles.

"Land over there." I point to a pile of gym mats.

I touch down easily. He wavers, trying to figure out how to land with the magic quarter still in his pocket. I catch him with a gust of air and lower him towards the mats. But he drops the last couple feet and knocks into me, sending us tumbling down together onto the thick pads .

On top of each other, our faces just inches apart. Shouldn't the electricity of his curse be arcing between us? Did we get lucky, is our skin not touching? Guess those leather jackets come in handy after all.

This close, I feel the heat of his body against mine. We should be getting up and creating distance between us. Instead, we're frozen in place, our eyes locked. I can see the awe in his eyes, glistening with unshed tears.

"I never thought I'd fly again," he whispers. "But you... I'm sorry for ever doubting you, McFly. You're amazing. You're a damn miracle worker."

Oh no. Our bodies are already pressed together. How can I resist? A beautiful man is telling me how incredible I am and I'm powerless against the connection between us.

His lips part, and I can't hold back. We move forward simultaneously, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. I know there are reasons I shouldn't be doing this, things I should be worried about.

It all fades away with his body against mine. I act on my desire and do what I want. I pull him closer to me and open my mouth so my tongue meets his.

The kiss feels amazing. And one kiss leads into two. It becomes difficult to remember why this was a bad idea at all. Until we break apart to breathe and move in just the right way so that our skin no longer touches.

And then everything goes to hell.