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loosed a shuddering groan as her
world squeezed with the pleasurable pain of orgasm.
    Rye sagged, panting, and nearly slid off the edge of the seat again. She rolled
back to slump into her seat. Flora sat with her eyes shut and her head thrown
back.
    After a few moments, Flora reached across to lay a hand on Rye’s thigh.
    “Oh, that was good,” Flora whispered.
    Rye lifted the hand to kiss.
    Flora sighed and shifted. She sat up and leaned close to Rye. “Maybe I’m not
quite as old as I thought. Torrid sex in a parking lot. Not a usual geriatric
activity, I wouldn’t have thought.”
    Rye smiled. She liked the feel of Flora’s hand sliding down her chest and
twisted closer to give Flora easier access. She put a hand on Flora’s hip. Just
touching her felt wonderful.
    “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Rye said.
    Flora smiled as she kissed Rye. “And you have a truly impressive physique,
lover. Real, not manufactured in a gym. You’re so real. Everything about you is
genuine. And strong. You’re so wholly unlike anyone I’ve met before.”
    Flora ran a hand down from Rye’s hair to her shoulder and then across Rye’s
back. Her hand stopped. Through Rye’s clothes, her fingers rested on the hard
lump of the top of Rye’s right wing bud. She frowned.
    “This isn’t going to be the most romantic thing I ever say to you,” Flora said.
“Which species are you?”
    Rye’s blood went cold. She stared with horror at Flora. “No.”
    Rye twisted around, wrenched the door open, and scrambled out of the carpet.
    “Rye?” Flora called.
    Rye stumbled to her feet and ran.
    “Rye!”
    Rye’s mind blanked. The need to flee took over. She ran and ran.
    Rye unlocked the front door. Luckily, Holly had not left the chain on. Rye crept
inside and slumped on the couch. Her alarm clock showed that it was after three
o’clock. In the dark, she couldn’t see her hands. They hurt. She must have hit
something. She didn’t know what.
    Rye clenched her fists against the pain and squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t
remember what she had done between leaving the bar with Flora and coming to her
senses an hour ago sitting on a bench in the dark on the river bank. If she had
hurt Flora, she would never forgive herself. In fact, it might be the end of her
if Flora went to the police. She would deserve it this time. Unlike the last
time, she knew that she was capable of doing something destructive in her panic.
    Fuck.
    Holly would get her wings in a year or two at most. Then she’d be safe. Eleven
years, Rye had managed to keep her life together. Why couldn’t she have
continued for just a little longer?
    Her world had unravelled with her willing aid.
    She had not been prepared to meet anyone like Flora Withe. Flora had somehow cut
through all Rye’s protective layers. Rye had very much wanted to have sex with
her. Everything else had vanished in a surge of lust. Had they done it? Was that
what caused her panic? Had Flora discovered she was a fairy? Or had sex with
Flora triggered memories of what had happened after the last time Rye had had
sex?
    Rye slumped back full length on the sofa and put an arm across her eyes. She
didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think about any of it, but
whatever she’d done in that gaping hole in this evening might have put her and
Holly in serious danger. What was she going to do?
    When the alarm sounded, Rye roused herself. She changed into work clothes and
mechanically went through her morning routine. She felt so numb from worry and
lack of sleep that her workmate’s cheerful reminder that today was a
half-holiday failed to make any impact.
    The hours before the morning break whistle crawled by. In her worst moments, Rye
imagined Flora’s broken body and police carpets, sirens wailing, heading for the
building site.
    The whistle sounded. Rye dropped her tools and raced down ten flights of stairs.
She paused to regain her breath at the pay phone