***
I stood alone in front of my father's plane, and I fought down the tears the sight pulled out of me. He should have been here with me, going over the pre-flight checklist, his calm, deep voice reminding me of safety measures I had known for years.
My hand caressed the smooth panels as I performed my surface inspection—checking the rudder, the ailerons on the wings. I confirmed that the Chancellor had indeed had both gas tanks filled, and oil levels looked good on both engines. I could do this in my sleep, but still I used the clipboard and checked off each item, as if this was just a normal night. As if I wasn't about to fly home to an empty house with the blood of my dead parents staining the grass.
As I climbed into the plane I found a small gift box wrapped in silver paper sitting on the seat. It had a card with my name on it, but didn't say who it was from. Just, "To Scarlett, thought you might need this."
I opened it quickly, curious despite myself, and found the e-Glass 8. This version hadn't even been released to the public yet, though there were rumors the e-Glass 7 would be out soon. This shouldn't even exist except in prototype. I turned the card over, looking for a hint as to who had left it, but I found nothing.
I couldn't help being excited. I'd been living with the e-Glass 2.5 for the last few years, and it had taken all my hacking skills to keep it functional. This beauty in my hand, sleek, stylish, and more powerful than any e-Glass on the market, would be able to do things I hadn't dared dream with my old one.
I pulled out the chip I carried in my pocket and stuck it in, then slipped it onto my ear, flipped the glass over my eye and pressed the button to turn it on.
A familiar voice greeted me. "Hello, Scarlett. How are you today?"
"Evie! It's been a long time since I've talked to you. What's up?"
"Would you like the chemical breakdown of atmospheric pressure or a scan of the space above us for physical objects?"
I laughed. "We're going to have to fix you, Evie. Make you a little laid back. But that can wait."
"Fix me? I just ran a systems check and I assure you, Scarlett, I am not broken."
Yup, she'd need to be fixed. But it wouldn't be hard. Especially not on an 8.0. "Okay, Evie."
As silly as it was, it felt good to have her back in my life. I knew she wasn't real, that she wasn't human, per se, but she'd been a staple in my life for many years. I found solace where I could these days.
"Scarlett, would you like to see the stored video archives you had me record when I was last activated?"
My heart stuttered. My parents were on that video. Their last moments on earth. But I couldn't open that vault of emotion with everything else going on. I'd need time. Space. A place to face whatever feelings that video brought up. "Later, Evie. Right now we have to go home."
After running through the last of the pre-flight checklist, I stuck the key in the ignition and pressed the button, then took the stick in hand—though it was really a steering wheel more than a stick, the old language held—and I taxied, accelerating until I had enough momentum to take her to the sky.
The Chancellor had assured me he'd already had someone call in my flight plan, so barring any unintentional trips over major airstrips or into international airspace, I could count on a smooth, quiet flight home.
The hours flew by, my mind drifting to flights with my father and Jax, moments of greatest happiness for me. My mom had never enjoyed flying much, but I could live in the sky if given a chance, and Jax and my dad felt the same way.
It bound us together, gave us something no one could ever take away from us.
A thought, unbidden, came to me in a moment of stunned awareness. If I was truly becoming Nephilim, that meant I'd be able to fly. With wings. My heart beat against my chest at the thought of my wildest most unattainable dreams coming true. Maybe this curse wasn't all bad.
I daydreamed about that for hours as I flew home.
It was late, the sky black as pitch as I landed in my backyard. The reflective paint on the airstrip was my only guidance to not crashing into my house by mistake. In my rush to come home, I hadn't considered the perils of landing in the dark.
It wasn't my smoothest landing. My hands shook, heart racing, as the Cessna jolted to the ground, but we both survived my clumsiness and within a few moments I found myself standing outside my front door, my hands shaking again, but for entirely different reasons.
I pressed my finger against the lock and the door clicked open, the living room instantly lighting up so bright it blinded me. I squinted until my eyes adjusted, then looked around.