[NOTE: The first part is the one entitled "Wings" and the second part the "Night of the Wings"]

I held the frame of the window I was looking into to steady myself. The winds were harsh and seemed intent to carry me away with them. My feet were anchored to the wall where sections had fallen out. Yes, I know. For a being with preternatural strength this shouldn’t be too complicated. But stealthily entering a room on the 34th floor amid the roaring winds of an incoming storm would be a challenge to anyone, human or not.

My wings were a curse to me right now, serving as big, black kites that helped the wind drag me off. Though no mortal could possibly see me now I could feel the piercing stares of the stars on my back. The heat slowly gathered to my temples and I could feel my head starting to throb. I had to get inside, fast. Pushing my face closer to the window, I squint my eyes to get a better look at the room. Although no light illuminated the place I could see as if it were morning with my avian eyes.

I take in the room before me. Not the furnishings, but the corners and cuts of the walls. I need to find someplace where I can appear unnoticed. The door to the bedroom was open, and beyond that I could see a closet at the end of the hall. Perfect, I thought. Holding tighter to the window, I closed my eyes and relaxed my body. I blotted out the sound of traffic below and the vague human thoughts that wafted into my head.

Leaving the image of the closet the only thought in my mind, I pushed myself forward. A gust of wind met my face, and for seconds the only thing I could hear was a loud buzzing noise. Disturbingly I felt sensations like those of hands grasping my flesh, not gently but roughly. Just when I thought that the sounds were close to smothering me and the hands were breaking my skin, everything stopped abruptly.

A calm stillness seemed to descend all around me. I waited a few more moments before opening my eyes, only to find that I was in the closet, unharmed. Sighing in relief, I rest my wings against the wall. I shook the ugly stories of limbs and wings being left behind from my head. The closet was presumably pitch dark, but I could see clearly the racks of clothes and paraphernalia hanging overhead. I assumed it was past seven, and the person I come for would come home by eight.

Standing perfectly still in the darkness, I remembered the other night and my confrontation with Aquil. The urge to ask him who this person is and what he had done to deserve the Visit grew stronger. I was about to call out to him when I heard the jangle of keys just down the corridor. With a smile, I unclenched my hands and practiced the lines in my head. Showtime.