2
"Intriguing," the dark haired sister said as she turned from the scene on the Manhattan rooftop.
"Indeed," added the blond haired sister.
"Quite intriguing," chimed the platinum haired sister.
The three sisters turned from the ledge of a neighboring building and proceeded towards the center of the rooftop. Their hands joined creating a circle of power, and they slowly began turning counter-clockwise. The magic began to build, engulfing them in a bright light. Within an instant a flash of time ruptured around them. In a blink, the three sisters disappeared.
The dog-like creature raised its head and sniffed the air. The weatherworn winged-man sat upright in his clunky recliner chair, pushing the footrest back into its locked position. He leaned forward and patted the creature on the head. His voice echoed in the empty clock tower as he asked the creature what it sensed. Of course, his question went unanswered.
The two-way radio squawked and hissed as he waited at the stoplight. A distinct Long Island voice alerted him to a robbery in progress at the corner of such and such street. He rolled his eyes and tightened the grip on the worn steering wheel. The voice repeated the dispatch, adding the caveat that all available units were needed on the scene. The man muttered a cursed under his breath as he flipped the switch on the dashboard, activating the whirling red and blue lights. The siren was slow to start up, and the car lurched forward as the light turned green.
The stoic, blond haired man raised his head from the paperwork on his desk. His working hand reached up to remove his wire-framed glasses, which he nonchalantly tossed onto the cherry wood top desk. He bent his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep sigh. Unexpectedly he shivered, which caused his eyes to flutter open. A pang in his heart made him gasp for air. Tears flooded to his eyes. He scoffed, and waved his hand in the air, dismissing the feeling.
His talon-hand gently caressed her amber hair as she nuzzled into the safety of his embrace. As they clung to each other, a feeling of relief swept over him. He was glad that this young beauty had ceased her crying. A settling calm engulfed him as he continued to hold her. Eternity could bleed away in an instant and he wouldn't have cared. Finally, the shared silence of the moment ended when her liquid voice chimed in the air.
"Thank you, again. Thank you for rescuing me…for being in the right place, at the right time," she said as she pulled back from his chest. Her eyes turned upwards to admire his face. It took all of his willpower to not raise his wings up to conceal his appearance: he had grown far too accustomed to the negative human reaction to his appearance.
"Uh – No problem." He flinched. What a boorish thing to say. He cleared his throat and then added, "I mean, you're welcome." His body clenched, and he could feel his beak jaw line tightening.
Her eyes continued to read him. Absent mindedly she reached up and played with a wild strand of platinum-white hair. He desperately wanted to take her hand and bathe it in kisses - he refrained from such an action. Instead he became unmoving, locking himself up, protecting her from himself.
"How did you find me?" she asked as she rested her hands on his chest.
She roared viciously at the security guards. Flicking her tail, she whipped a gun out of one of their hands. She reared back, fanning her wings out to full length, in an act of intimidation. The humans cowered and she delighted in their fear. Being monstrous gave her purpose. Taking what she wanted, when wanted it, motivated her. Tonight's cravings: an Irish relic. Monstrous eyes glowed red as she bellowed out following cursed "Humans! You aren't worth the flesh you're printed on!" And with that she pushed through the onslaught of police and escaped into the night.
