Creature City

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Jet leaned back in her chair with a satisfied hum, pushing the papers to one side. Someone came up from the restaurant below with a few plates of hot food. She set one down on Jet's desk, another waitress soon following with a tray of drinks which were also set down. The two ladies then went into one of the side rooms to give Alexis and the new child their meal. Pretty soon they left and gave Galzra and Azur their meals, before heading back downstairs. Jet paid good money for these specific two to serve them, and keep their mouths shut- nobody knew about Jet's headquarters except the people who lived here, and she planned to keep it that way.
It didn't take long for the children to finish, and Alexis swept out into the hallway. With a series of quick, silent hand gestures, her and Jet communicated- the child wanted attention.
Jet rose from her chair. She was supposed to have an appointment with a client soon, but that could wait a few moments. The child needed attention.
Now that they were clean, they looked a lot healthier. Sea-green hair was tied up in two pigtails atop either side of their head, reaching down to their shoulders. Eyes the same blue as sapphires gazed up innocently at her from above a little button nose. Their skin was tanned, and thankfully somehow clear. Alexis did wonders with the little healing magic she had. They looked about the same age as Alexis. Despite herself, Jet let a soft smile slip, and ruffled the child's hair, chuckling at their cry of protest as they desperately tried to pat it back down. How this child had been abandoned was beyond her, as was what creature they were. Alexis bounced happily, her crimson eyes meeting that of the other child, and they communicated swiftly through another series of gestures. Jet was rather surprised to note that the child was either mute or deaf. She wondered which.
"Their name is Annabeth." Alexis chimed happily. Jet nodded, and turned to Annabeth. "Is it alright if we call you Anna?" The child nodded. Alright, so mute. That was easier to deal with. It would mean Alexis would have to accompany the child at all times- not like that wasn't the plan already anyway- even longer than previously planned. It complicated matters somewhat, but if she could teach Galzra and Azur sign language as well-
That reminded her. "Have you eaten?" A small nod. "Is everything okay, or can I get you something?" A shake of the head. So maybe they could communicate on at least a basic level with the boys while they were learning. "Alright, Anna, I need to head out now. If you need anything, Alexis is right here, and there's two boys down the hall who will help you. You should probably introduce yourself anyway. Alexis will help."
The other dark angel nodded, and Jet stood, black cloak swirling about her as she tugged it on. "I'll return soon." She hit the switch and quickly slipped out, leaving the children alone.
 
They trudge to their parents' together, Minerva hardly speaking and Abner running his mouth. When they arrive they're welcomed by the warm interior of a run-down cottage and the smell of cinnamon.
Chance looks up from frowning over the stove, before gasping and running over to the door. Boxes are piled up on the couch, books teetering off of tables and knitting kneedles packed tightly next to colourful balls of wool.
She runs over and takes her child's face in her hands, eyes watering. "Abner." She murmurs, rubbing his cheeks and taking Minerva's hand.
" Oh thank God you're alright." Came the soft voice, and Abner blinked in response, glad to be out of the cold.
Chance was the mother of Minerva Fridgewalt, and Abner Fridgewalt, a kind Arachid resembling the shape of a beachball, and a woman with the motherly instinct for anything in a twenty-mile-radius.
"Hey Ma." He said, and was promptly pulled into his mother's arms, clutched to her chest as if he was a child again.
Minerva, on the other hand, entered the cottage and stood over the kitchen counter, examining the weapons lined in rows.
"Where's Charlie?" Abner asks, words muffled by a prolonged tight embrace.
"Oh..." Chance releases him from her suffocating grasp, and pulls him to the living room. "He's away... On business."
Minerva slaps the cash she earned prior to meeting that strange wasp girl on the counter. "There you fucking go Hans." She snapped, and the sound of a chair scraping alerted Abner to his presence.
Hans was the manager of their 'family business', a fill-in father figure for the two of them. Being a man of few words, he proceeded to grab Abner by his collar, drawing the spider close so he could smell the alcohol on his breath.
" Your Ma's been worried about you. The least you could do is apologise for upsetting her."
He pushed Abner into his seat again, glaring as he stalked to the other end of the table. Abner slumped down, rubbing his neck.
"Sorry Ma."
 
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To Minerva, a hand motions for her to sit down. She frowns. "Seriously? This again?" There's a gruff voice across the table, and despite her protests, she takes a seat next to Abner.
"So. You brought in seventy percent last week, didn't you?" Hans addresses the girl sharply, and she nods. "Kept the rest for expenses."
Chance hums a tune in the kitchen, pretending not to hear business talk as she stirs some warm soup in a pot.
Minerva examines her fingernails, looking bored. "And you brought in some today, on top of that." Hans adds, and he looks down at the table, hands folded. "You did well. Ahead of schedule." There's mutual respect between them for the moment.
He turns to Abner, and the spider bites his lip. "And you?"
"See, that's the thing. My landlord kicked me out and-" Abner breaths out, just as Hans rises from the table.
"So what? You brought in nothing." There's a dismissive wave, and the spider sees anger stirring in the man's eye.
"I'm trying all I can, Hans. Look, I promise. Next week. For sure."
Minerva's eye shifts towards her brother. Although her expression betrays nothing, she's concerned and preparing herself to intervene if things got too bad.
"Abner. Your fucking sister's making more than you. And you know what impression that gives me?" He runs a hand over the edge of the table, and his chair makes a screeching noise as it's pulled out again.
The spider involuntarily flinches, and Chance abruptly stops humming in the kitchen. There's quiet.
"I don't know, Hans-"
The large shadow of a man stands over the Arachnid, and a hand strikes out and hits Abner across the face, making a "thwack" noise. Abner whimpers, expecting another hit to follow. "It tells me, that you're not cut out for this at all, kid." He raises a fist again, before being interrupted by Chance. She opens the kitchen door and hesitantly lays coffee on the table, hiding her face but providing a subtle suggestion, "Why don't you sit down, hun? Drink your tea. After all, getting so worked up doesn't help your blood pressure." Hans looks like he's about to hit her too, but he makes a grumbling sound and sits down again as the biscuits and coffee are layed out on the table. Minerva quietly thanks her mother, smiling nervously.
Good old Ma.
 
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Jack knelt beside Kastra and flexed his cold fingers over her tawny feathers, ruffling them with gentle affection. The Griffin stirred, opened one eye, and sat up when she saw her master.
“Hey, Kastra,” he murmured with a soft smile. “Sorry I was away so long. Did Arrow take good care of you?” The majestic creature snorted, her version of a laugh, and buried her eagle-like head into Jack’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and felt her relax against him, glad he was home. Beside them, the fire danced and threw out heat, warming Jack’s cold blood. He pulled gently away from his guardian and ghosted his fingertips over the two dark scars where her wings should have been.
“We’re going to bed now, Kas,” he said, allowing her to press their foreheads together. The Griffin’s golden-brown eyes regarded the Wendigo boy with deep wells of affection. “I’m not going out tomorrow, I’ve decided. The vampires can wait.” Kastra purred and flexed her hind legs – those of a lion. Jack stood and made sure she was comfortable before padding into the bedroom.

Arrow was waiting for him when he slipped under the duvet in thick woollen pyjamas and fluffy socks to keep his icy body warm. The half-phoenix immediately grabbed him and pulled him close – it was like being in bed with an open fire, which to a cold-blooded Wendigo, was Heaven.
“Are you warm enough?” Arrow asked softly, his head resting against the base of Jack’s neck.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he reassured the Nix and felt him tangle their legs together. The pain in his antlers had reduced to a dull ache which he could almost forget about when Arrow and Kastra were nearby. Sleep was already claiming his body, and when he spoke, his words were soft and muffled.
“I love you, Arrow.”
“I love you too, Jack.”
 
Alexis giggled, running down the hall with Annabeth as Galzra chased after them. "Raaawr!!" he cried playfully, scooping Annabeth up and tickling them.
"Nooo, the tickle monster got her!" Alexis cried, as Annabeth dissolved into a fit of giggles. Galzra laughed, attempting to sound evil but only sounding like a huge dork instead. "Yes, the tickle monster has a new victim! Muahahaha~!"
Azur chuckled, reclined on a chair nearby sipping tea and watching them, a newspaper spread in his lap. His ears twitched happily as the sound of the children's giggling reached him. Just as he set down his tea, Alexis scrambled up onto the arm of the chair to sit on his shoulders, proclaiming that he needed to "protect her from the tickle monster that plagued their home" He grinned, and pulled her off his shoulders to sit in his lap. "Who says I'm not one too?" With that he tickled her, much to her dismay as she squealed with laughter and tried to wriggle free.
Galzra laughed as Annabeth finally managed to fend him off and tackled him onto the polished wooden floor of the living room. They punched a small fist in the air in victory, grinning, and Galzra raised his hands. "Nooo I've been defeated!"
It seemed the small child wasn't done though, as they proceeded to hop off of Galzra, run over and sneak up the back of Azur's chair, and jump onto his shoulders to cover his eyes with their hands.
Azur laughed, letting go of Alexis to place his hands over theirs. "Oh no, my only weakness! Tiny hands!"
The children giggled, and Galzra chuckled as he sat up. It seemed like Alexis would enjoy having a playmate in the house as well. Annabeth was fun to have around.
 
Minerva spends the rest of the afternoon picking the locks of the cuffs on Abner's hands. They both sit on the carpet, Minerva cursing under her breath everytime she pushes the paper clip to the left and doesn't hear a satisfying click. She decides not to ask what Abner had got himself into, the truth was she didn't really want to know. For a moment, Abner feels obligated to explain, crossing his legs on the short tufty carpet. "Min, it wasn't my fault. Really, it wasn't. Some blonde-haired guy came around asking questions, and he had a gun Min, so-" Minerva moves a hand to quieten him, expression full of concentration as she shoves the paper clip in the lock sideways. Abner thinks for a moment, and then with a depressing understanding, realises that anyway he tells the story it would still be classed as his fault. Maybe it was his fault. After countless excuses, the people around him had gradually got tired of listening to him. Maybe it was better if Minerva didn't care. She didn't ask too many questions when she had found him, after all.
They had left their parents', and after Abner pointed out that he was pretty much homeless now, and Minerva had begrudgingly taken him to her apartment.
"I guess..." Abner pulls one hand free, rubbing his wrist. "I should go."
The girl looks up from her lap, narrowing her eyes. "Where the fuck are you going to go? You said yourself you don't have a place to stay anymore."
Abner sighs, shrugging and lifting both hands. "I'll book a place in some motel for the night. I don't know."
A raised eyebrow, and suddenly Minerva feels guilty. She hadn't been exactly inviting to her brother on the walk back from their parents'. She could have helped out more, tried to make sure her own brother didn't get the shit beaten out of him, tried to make sure he had a warm place to stay somewhere. At least for the night instead of making him feel unwelcome.
Abner picks at a loose thread on the carpet, avoiding her gaze. She wants to say so many things at once, so she doesn't say any of them.
"Fine. I've got a client coming over anyway. A home call."
 
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With the fresh breath of an evening breeze, Jet landed neatly on a rooftop opposite a big, posh house. She glanced around at the streets below- there wasn't really much of a need to cloak up as she had, as it was still mostly light, although the light was starting to fade, and nobody around here knew her. Then again, nobody thought to look up, either. That was one good thing about the rich district; the people were so safe, because no assassins took up residence here. In the poorer part of the district- where, she reminded herself, she would need to go later- it was much harder to skirt along the rooftops. People looked up a lot more often, they were used to those attacks. Here, however, assassins came and went, never staying for long. They took out who they needed to and left. People were rarely afraid in this district. She waited until nobody was watching, and shimmied down a back alley to the ground, removing her cloak and tucking it into a bag. Rooftop travelling was the only safe way to get here unnoticed and ensure nobody followed her, however, if she entered the house itself by rooftop she would attract a lot of unwanted attention. Instead she headed up normally, and knocked twice on the door, a silent yet demanding announcement that she was here.

Galzra was still playing with Alexis and Annabeth when Azur walked back in. He smiled a little at the sight of his friend getting swarmed by the two children. "Gazz, I gotta head out for a bit. You coming, or you got the kids?"
His reply was a deadpanned stare from Galzra, followed by an "oof!" as Annabeth hopped onto his stomach, giggling. "Hey!" He ruffled their hair as he looked back over at Azur. "Yeah, I've gotta watch these two little monsters and make sure they don't run away. You go have fun. And for the love of god don't get drunk, you know Jet'll be- get mad." He caught himself quickly from one of his snarky cussing replies, instead swiftly censoring it for the sake of the children who were now watching the exchange intently. Azur chuckled, and nodded, before walking over and ruffling the hair of the children. A smile played across his lips at their playful cries of protest as they batted his hands away in perfect sync. "Alright, but don't lose to em." He chuckled, and walked out.
Alexis grinned, and tackled Annabeth to the ground, laughing at their squeal of surprise. With a playful glint in her eye, she started tickling her new friend. Annabeth laughed, attempting to feebly wriggle out from underneath her and bat her hands away at the same time. Galzra chuckled breathlessly, watching them. It had been ages since he'd played around much, and these kids were already proving to be a handful. He sat for a while, just getting his breath back and watching the two play idly.
 
Jack was perched on his favourite stool at the bar of The Dragon’s Head, his face half in shadow as he sipped whiskey from a glass. Kastra sat by his feet, her curved golden beak resting on his knee – the pub had a rat problem and Kastra ate rats, so she was allowed in on the grounds that she would keep down the rodent numbers. Jack’s claw-like hands readjusted his scarf and tousled the curls that spilled out of his black beanie as he risked a furtive glance over to the other side of the pub. Arrow was sat in a booth opposite a wizened old woman – the stench of her screamed witch – showing her an array of black magic books, the spells within he’d translated, making them invaluable. He could see Jack out of the corner of his eye, subtly fretting over him as always, and waited until the witch was absorbed in examining his books before quickly meeting the redhead’s eye and smiling.
I’m all right, he silently said. Don’t worry about me.
Jack’s lips quirked up in the suggestion of a smile before he turned back to his drink. The bartender, an ogre with thick skin and teeth like an elephant’s horns, refilled it on his way past and grinned at him.
“No business tonight, Chief?”
Jack instantly assumed his role as the overconfident, ruthless black market trader.
“I’m having a night off,” he said casually, letting the alcohol claw at his throat as he swallowed a mouthful. “I’ve been working hard the past couple of weeks.”
“Aye – I ain’t seen you around,” the ogre said, fiddling with the beer taps. “Go on, humour me. What’s the Red Chief been up to?”
“Nothing I could talk about, Sir,” Jack said dryly. “When I came by last night, I told you about those Araneae, though – take my word on that. People are getting twitchy about it. They’re moving, expanding, but no-one knows why.” The ogre shifted, pleased with this information.
“They better stay far from my pub,” he said gruffly. “We don’t have sorts like that round here.”
“And yet you still let me in here,” Jack commented with a smirk. The bartender laughed, a raucous, grating noise.
“I’ll leave you to your drink, Chief,” he said. He made to move away, but stopped as if remembering something. “Your bird’s doing good – ain’t seen a single rat today. You keep coming, Chief, and bring her with ya.” Jack grinned.
“Happy we could help, Sir.”
 
Abner shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes cast downwards to his feet as his breath came out in cold puffs. Minerva had seemed pretty defensive about him showing up at her house, although when he opted to leave she got defensive again. It seemed like he couldn't say anything to that girl without upsetting her. He sighed, walking past flashing street signs, late night restaurants lighting up the place. He passed by windows, mirroring his reflection in the warm glow. A couple dining at a table, sharing food, a kid in a high hair with a bowl of spaghetti tipped over a mop of blonde curls... A man dining alone catches his eye and he grows flustered, walking faster. He must have been staring for a while. Shaking his head and trying to clear his thoughts, he made a mental checklist.
Step one. Find a motel that's cheap.
Step two. Book a room.
Step three. Get fucking wasted.

He turned a sharp corner, nearly skidding over some ice in the process as he swerved out the way of a woman with a stroller. Another blurry sign made him squint, trying to read the unique lettering. A bar.
Well, it couldn't hurt to get wasted first before he did those other things. Maybe that would make it easier for him. He pulled the collar up on his jacket, frowning when he saw a smudge of red on it. He steeled himself with a breath before entering the bar. The door chimed as he entered, head down low.
 
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Jack turned his head when the pub’s bell chimed, and in walked a shadowy, hunched figure. A figure with six arms.
“Araneae,” he murmured beneath his breath – around him, drinkers fell silent at this new arrival. The creature looked skinny and the way he twitched suggested an addiction, perhaps; he called up a vague memory of an arachnid he’d sold Pixie Dust to recently. Could this be him? Shifting in his seat, he examined the faces of those around him, judging their reactions. The Araneae were feared and therefore hated – Jack had had a few run-ins with them before, but nothing too serious. Personally, he didn’t hate them more than any other creature, though he was curious as to why they were expanding. Clearing his throat, he pulled out the stool behind him and motioned with his grey, clawed fingers for the male to sit down. Perhaps the Chief could get some information out of him in return for drugs or blood.
 
The arachnid flinches, the bell sounding painfully loud and making his head throb. He's oblivious to the quietening of voices around him, walking ahead and scanning the row of seats packed in with other bar-goers. He's been to many bars where the conversation is low and muted, the mood sullen, but this environment is hushed. Completely silent. It doesn't strike him as odd though. In fact, he doesn't care all that much. The only thing on his mind at the moment is the idea of a drink. When a grating sound of a stool moving across the floor fills his ears, he looks up at the noise and sees a creature with a mop of curled ginger hair beckoning to him. He's gesturing to an empty seat near him, and Abner gladly takes it, practically jumping onto the stool. He stares at the bar taps, wondering why the stranger wanted to speak with him, and runs a hand over his hair, trying to make his appearance slightly more respectable. It proves harder than he initially thought, however, as he remembers his reflection in the restaurant window. Dark circles under eyes, three-day stubble, bloodied collar...
He bounces his leg, an unconscious habit that's grew on him over time. He knows it's from a mixture of withdrawal and anxiety that the constant twitching originated from in the first place, but he tries not to think about that.
 
Jack watched the Araneae settle himself with cool, calculating eyes, and felt Kastra shift against his leg – he ruffled her feathers absent-mindedly. Casting his icy gaze across the pub, he made a show of turning his back on the rest of the drinkers, hinting that he wanted privacy; respectfully they began their conversations again, filling the dimly-lit room with a pleasant hum. The bartender was hovering awkwardly nearby and Jack caught his eye.
“Refill my whiskey, would you, Sir? And get one for my companion, too.”
“Comin’ right up, Chief,” the ogre muttered gruffly as he slammed a glass onto the surface by the arachnid and poured the pungeant liquid into it. Jack waited a few moments, lifting his renewed glass to his lips and drinking leisurely, before he spoke.
“You’ve got guts, coming in here like that,” he commented, his dark red hair curling over a grey forehead. “You must know what the locals think of your kind.”
 
Cecilia had been expecting a guest, and she stood behind her maid as the door was opened and early evening flooded in. Her body was draped in furs and she brushed a strand of white-blonde hair out of her ashen face. A pair of large antlers curved around her head and extended upwards – the most defining feature of her kind. Beside her, a Griffin stood proudly, his large, beautiful wings folded neatly across his back. She stepped forward, placing a clawed (but perfectly manicured) hand on her maid’s shoulder.
“You can go, Vera,” she said, her large brown eyes briefly flickering to the visitor. “I know this woman.” The maid bowed her head and left the two alone – Cecilia stepped out into the cool evening air, pulling her furs tighter around her, and her Griffin followed suit. She raised a shaped, contoured eyebrow, as if waiting for her guest to speak.
 
Jet nodded gracefully. "Evening, Madam." The greeting was intended to be formal, but a playful smile danced across her lips- they'd established connection long ago and dropped the greetings. Still, it amused the information dealer to use the formal greeting upon their initial meeting.
"I see you're looking as stunning as ever. How have the people been treating you?" She spoke with a smile, but also waiting for Cecilia to move first. She didn't know the area nearly as well as back in her area of the district, had never bothered to learn as Cecilia was all the contact she needed in these parts. It was still customary for the two of them that Jet would speak first, and Cecilia would decide where they would head that time. That much, Jet had decided a while ago, was in order to let Cecilia have that little bit of control.
Jet held information that could easily get the both of them killed, and if the girl in front of her didn't know it, her Griffin did. The memories of first meeting the Griffin near made her chuckle; she'd taken an entrance through a window, and the creature had damn near decapitated her in fear of attempting to assault his mistress. They'd reached a level of mutual respect now, though, and Jet intended to keep that level. She knew what those creatures were capable of, and as strong a fighter as she was, she didn't feel particularly inclined to inciting its fury.
 
The spider stares at him briefly, scrutinising this stranger with an unsure look. He pays attention to the way the guy quietly instructs everyone in the bar to go back to their conversations, and his manner carefully. This guy must be some mob boss. For a moment he doesn't reply, nursing his drink.
"Yeah? So what. I do what I want." He comes off like a broody adolescent, the exact opposite of the personality he wanted to be. The words were picked to be threatening, but he can tell the guy isn't fazed by the look in his eye. He holds his drink in his hand, debating on whether or not to trust this guy and except his offer of free booze, or wait until he sees what the guy has to say. He takes the first option, shrugging his shoulders. Screw it. Free's free.
 
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Cecilia’s rosebud lips parted in a soft smile.
“As well as ever,” she responded, her white-blonde hair framing an angular face. “How have things been for you?”
She genuinely enjoyed Jet’s company and looked forward to her visits – plus, it wasn’t as if she didn’t get something out of the meetings, too. Though she was naïve, she held a childlike curiosity, and in recent years this had extended to the mystery surrounding her older brother, Jacobus. Her memories of him were fragmented and blurred, just a four year old’s recount of life, but they were there nonetheless. Her family’s tale was that when her mother died of her sickness, he had caught it, and he’d been sent out of the city to recover with relatives – he never returned. For years she’d believed it without question, but even a girl so far removed from society heard rumours. Rumours he’d been abandoned, rumours he wasn’t sick, rumours he still roamed somewhere in the shadows to this day. Rumours, perhaps most terrifyingly, that her mother’s death had been a murder. It wasn’t something she expected Jet to make her life’s work, uncovering the mystery of Jacobus Samandriel Aster-Pitch, but it was good to have links just in case something cropped up. Plus, these outings were always exciting, and having a friend who was so dark and wonderful was an awfully great adventure.
 
Jack chuckled at the arachnid’s words.
“Calm down,” he said with a smirk still turning up his lips. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I was just interested in why you’re round here.” He paused, stirring his whiskey with a claw and scratching Kastra behind the ear – she purred softly and her lion’s tail beat the stone floor.
“You’re a little far from your kin, aren’t you?”
 
Jet let a genuine grin appear on her face, brushing her own raven-black hair out of her face. "Ah, you know, the usual. I've managed to acquire a new charge, actually." She proceeded to tell her friend about Annabeth; how she'd found the child, and how quickly she was settling in at home. "The only problem is," Jet said with a frown "is that I don't know what they are. They might be a shapeshifter, but they haven't shown any signs of it so far. Nor do they have any ways of finding their parents. I suspect they must be an orphan as well, like Alexis was, but the fact I can't identify their kin disturbs me." One of many things about Jet that endeared her to the higher class was her ability to identify what kin someone belonged to from a mere glance. For the trickier ones, a quick examination and she had a pretty good idea. So for her to not be able to tell what one was- well, it unnerved her, to say the least. "They get along with Alexis and the teens like wildfire, though." she added calmly. "It's almost like they belonged in the little family."
 
Abner turns his head towards the mysterious figure, and shifts in his bar stool. "Yeah, I guess." He knocks back his drink in a swift motion, something he's used to. It's a comforting action, and warmth coats his insides as the potent mixture takes its effect.
"But things are changing for us. We're not just... Criminals." He finds it harder to get his words out to this stranger, and he has to stop himself from clamming up completely. He just wants to drink in peace. Drink until the the bruises stop hurting, just until things right themselves again. The stranger seems sympathetic and level-headed, his kindness striking the spider odd.
 
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Cecilia smiled at the mention of Jet’s makeshift family – she’d met them a few times and liked them a lot. Her eyebrows lifted as her friend confessed she couldn’t identify the creature; she was well aware of Jet’s talents.
“Perhaps she’s a hybrid,” she suggested, beginning to walk, her inner rich girl expecting Jet to follow – there were some high-class habits she just couldn’t shake off. “Whatever it is, I’m confident you’ll figure it out.” Altair was by her side, adjusting his wings on his back and eyeing Jet with wary respect. His mistress trusted her, so in turn so did he, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew something was hidden behind that smile – in this place, everyone had secrets to keep.
 
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