White Nights, Chapter Three
Like fog, Jack floated outside Sarah’s office touching the ground softly on thick soles. As usual, his dark companion waited. “Why did you let her go? Finish her,” the companion hissed, drawing his lips back over red-stained teeth.
Jack glanced at the companion’s hand, and the claw-like nails. They stared breathlessly for a moment then the companion turned his face away.
‘You felt something in her.” The companion dropped his angry stance. “It’s been awhile since you’ve done this.” The dark one sneered at Jack. “Such a misguided need rearing its ugly head again.”
Jack flicked dust from his jacket, “It’s not a need, just a little sport, that’s all. Now go away. Leave me alone.”
The companion laughed. “When do you suppose she’ll realize what you really want of her?” Pausing momentarily, “and what if she doesn’t have it?” The companion pulled his lips into a strained smile.
Jack grumbled again turning his head away. “Talking does me no good.” He grabbed the dark companion shoving him away to stop further conversation as Jack slipped into the dark recesses of the night, a predator hunting.
Deciding to investigate on his own, The dark one slunk into Sarah’s office. Like smoke, he slipped beside her inert body. Except for her chest inhaling and exhaling slowly, Sarah lay still as death. The companion circled. He sniffed first her feet. Then he sniffed the back of her legs. Shoving his nose between the upper reaches of her thighs, he breathed deeply. Satisfied, he moved upward snuffling like the dog he once was at the hair under her arms. He stroked her neck softly then picked up her hand. “Her hands are normal,” the dark one spoke absently as he continued to examine Sarah. Turning her head to the side, he used gentle hands. His long-clawed fingers rolled her onto her stomach. “Wings,” he spluttered. Gently, he rolled her back. She stirred. He pulled her hair back.
“No hackles beneath her hair. Hmm, curious.” He dropped her head. Sarah gray-blue eyes opened briefly, wide and vacant then her head fell to the side. A line of drool spread from her lip to the wooden floor.
“Well, well, and her hair.” The beast stared at it, ran his fingers through it, caressed it. The long golden curls felt silken as he loosened the ribbon holding her curls back from her face. Burying his face in it, he sighed.
Sitting on his haunches, he sat up. “This could mean nothing. I don’t understand Jack. Why would he want one anyway? They’re dangerous.” The beast padded on all fours to the newly opened window slipping into the night, tracking Jack to join the hunt.
[To Be Continued…]