Shayera stood inspecting her reflection in the bathroom mirror, letting the lock of hair she held between her two fingers fall back into her face, strand by strand. Jet black, a startling change from its original red. She hated the new color almost as much as she hated the process of dying it, but fortunately it would wash out in a couple of days. That was all the time she needed.
Wally was getting married tomorrow. He told her she didn't have to come. They both knew why she shouldn't. But she could see behind his eyes the childish hope that his best friend would show up at his wedding, and she wanted to fulfill that hope through any means.
She combed her fingers through her hair again. The unfamiliar blackness made a stark contrast against her fair skin and bright green eyes. She hoped this wouldn't draw any further attention to her features, but then again, her eye color should have been the least of her concerns.
She flexed her wings out and back. They may have seemed a vestigial, dormant accessory to those who didn't have them, but to Shayera they were as much a part of her as her arms and legs. They would be difficult to conceal, and even more difficult to function without them. She tried to imagine what it would be like, what she might feel or not feel in their absence. She wondered if it was even possible to make such an obviously prominent feature disappear, however temporary.
At all costs, she had to protect her friend's identity as well as her own. Yet she couldn't miss this day. Not for anything in the world.
She pushed her raven strands behind her ear and tapped a button on her comm-link.
"Dr. Fate. This is Shayera," she said. "I need a favor."