Wings of Flesh and Bones
I’m breaking Castle’s rules. Do I care? Not really—not yet.
Rogan’s skin prickled as she snuck through the portal leading to the city, exhilarated to be patrolling on her own for once. She walked along the sidewalk on her way to Pink, a dance club for teenagers. Although, her choice in destination would not involve dancing or enjoying the hyperactive ambiance. No, she was primed and ready to release bottled-up steam threatening her peace of mind. Deviants would be mingling with humans, and she’d be there to put a stop to it.
Crisp autumn air stirred. Inhaling its musky scent, she noticed the lengthening shadows, and prayed to be home before she was missed. I’m seventeen, she thought with pride, a gatekeeper. At least, that was what she’d been training for.
Keeping her eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary, she tossed her braided hair over her shoulder, catching a few heads turning to look at her. You’d think they’d never seen a girl wearing leather and boots before.
A pungent odor pressed in on her, which stopped her in her tracks. Up ahead, blocking the sidewalk, was a giant of a man. The fortuitous encounter took her by surprise, sending her creepster vibes off the charts. With her legs rooted in a rigid stance, she flexed her fingers. As if the giant had been awaiting her arrival, he approached in a blur of motion, whipping his knuckled fist and clipping her on the chin.
Grimacing, her eyes watered as blood pooled over her tongue. She spat a mouthful onto the sidewalk and moved her throbbing jaw from side to side.
She recognized the Vorg towering over her, jutting his demon chin at a superior angle. To humans, he looked like an unnatural hulk of a man, but Rogan saw past his artificial veneer.
“Had enough, sweetmeat?” His sandpapery voice rubbed her the wrong way.
“Screw you.” Fast as a snap, she jerked her elbow, smashing him in the jaw.