the screen filled with his SUV racing down the streets with the hawk plastered against his windshield.
The newscaster stated, “The question of the day is, who let the dogs out? Or the panther and hawk. At two o’clock this afternoon, a panther mysteriously appeared to chase this Escalade, then strangely disappeared at the same time this gray hawk attacked the SUV while it traveled down Avenue of the Americas. No one has claimed the wild cat, and the hawk cannot be traced either. Tony Arrolos found out that onlookers say they came out of nowhere.”
The screen changed to the city street. The reporter, in a crowd, held his microphone for an eyewitness.
“Can you tell us what you saw?”
The bystander shook her head. “They appeared out of nowhere and just attacked that car. It wasn’t as big as a panther. It couldn’t be one. I think it was an oversize cat. You know, a feral one. It had a man by the foot, but the car took off so quickly, I thought I imagined the whole thing.”
“Yeah,” a man in painter overalls added. “It looked like they hit a lady in the street. I tried to help her, but she ran in there.” He pointed to the Pendragon building. “She looked stunned. Had some blood on her cheek.”
“Did you see where the cat went?”
Another woman pointed to an alleyway across the street. “It ran away. It was afraid of the hawk. It was trying to protect the man.”
“There you have it, folks. Three versions of one scene. All we know is the SUV took off with the hawk on the windshield and animal control has not seen either animal. Commissioner Bannor has stepped up patrols in the area and has asked the public to report any strays. This is Tony Arrolos, reporting live from Manhattan.”
Junie looked at Alastair. “They don’t realize they are witches.”
“Yet,” Alastair said ominously.
CHAPTER TWELVE
M organ changed into one of Gabby’s tees. It swam on her, but it was clean. She cleaned the scrape on her forearm, then dabbed her shoulder with antiseptic, her eyes watering from the burn.
“Ugh,” Gabby commented, handing her a clean towel. “Is that blood yours?”
“No.” Morgan shook her head. Some of Wes’s blood stained her hands. She had handed him a rag, and when he touched her hand, he must have gotten blood on her. She remembered because there had been a distinct spark between them when their hands met. The bottom of the yellowed porcelain sink turned pink, but her fingers wouldn’t come clean. Morgan scrubbed hard, her white skin turning pink from her ministration.
“Did you get it?” Gabby asked. “Try this.” She poured a clear liquid from a brown bottle over Morgan’s small hands. Morgan reared back, her hands on fire.
“What is that?” she screamed, her eyes watering.
Gabby looked at the label. “Witch hazel.” She turned on cold water and held her friend’s burning fingers under the stream. They watched with stunned fascination as the blood absorbed into the abused skin. “Oops,” Gabby said quietly. “I know what will make you feel better. Let’s get you something to eat, and then we’ll upload the information and watch the shit hit the fan.”
“Where are you uploading it?” Morgan asked as she flopped down on the couch. She was staring at her hands, not liking the tingling sensation. She rubbed them on the couch but felt no relief.
“Lucky Charms!” Morgan shouted with glee. Gabby placed a cracked bowl and a container of milk on the coffee table.
“They’re magically delicious,” Gabby replied. “We are going to inform the twenty -two thousand followers on my blog, my eight hundred thousand Twitter followers, Facebook, Instagram, my website…all about Auntie Bea’s weird cosmetic ingredients.”
Morgan reached into her bra, taking out the USB with the stolen information.
“Ooh la la,” Gabby said, snatching the device and plugging it into the port on her laptop.
“Won’t be long and Aunt Bea will have to reconsider her product
The newscaster stated, “The question of the day is, who let the dogs out? Or the panther and hawk. At two o’clock this afternoon, a panther mysteriously appeared to chase this Escalade, then strangely disappeared at the same time this gray hawk attacked the SUV while it traveled down Avenue of the Americas. No one has claimed the wild cat, and the hawk cannot be traced either. Tony Arrolos found out that onlookers say they came out of nowhere.”
The screen changed to the city street. The reporter, in a crowd, held his microphone for an eyewitness.
“Can you tell us what you saw?”
The bystander shook her head. “They appeared out of nowhere and just attacked that car. It wasn’t as big as a panther. It couldn’t be one. I think it was an oversize cat. You know, a feral one. It had a man by the foot, but the car took off so quickly, I thought I imagined the whole thing.”
“Yeah,” a man in painter overalls added. “It looked like they hit a lady in the street. I tried to help her, but she ran in there.” He pointed to the Pendragon building. “She looked stunned. Had some blood on her cheek.”
“Did you see where the cat went?”
Another woman pointed to an alleyway across the street. “It ran away. It was afraid of the hawk. It was trying to protect the man.”
“There you have it, folks. Three versions of one scene. All we know is the SUV took off with the hawk on the windshield and animal control has not seen either animal. Commissioner Bannor has stepped up patrols in the area and has asked the public to report any strays. This is Tony Arrolos, reporting live from Manhattan.”
Junie looked at Alastair. “They don’t realize they are witches.”
“Yet,” Alastair said ominously.
CHAPTER TWELVE
M organ changed into one of Gabby’s tees. It swam on her, but it was clean. She cleaned the scrape on her forearm, then dabbed her shoulder with antiseptic, her eyes watering from the burn.
“Ugh,” Gabby commented, handing her a clean towel. “Is that blood yours?”
“No.” Morgan shook her head. Some of Wes’s blood stained her hands. She had handed him a rag, and when he touched her hand, he must have gotten blood on her. She remembered because there had been a distinct spark between them when their hands met. The bottom of the yellowed porcelain sink turned pink, but her fingers wouldn’t come clean. Morgan scrubbed hard, her white skin turning pink from her ministration.
“Did you get it?” Gabby asked. “Try this.” She poured a clear liquid from a brown bottle over Morgan’s small hands. Morgan reared back, her hands on fire.
“What is that?” she screamed, her eyes watering.
Gabby looked at the label. “Witch hazel.” She turned on cold water and held her friend’s burning fingers under the stream. They watched with stunned fascination as the blood absorbed into the abused skin. “Oops,” Gabby said quietly. “I know what will make you feel better. Let’s get you something to eat, and then we’ll upload the information and watch the shit hit the fan.”
“Where are you uploading it?” Morgan asked as she flopped down on the couch. She was staring at her hands, not liking the tingling sensation. She rubbed them on the couch but felt no relief.
“Lucky Charms!” Morgan shouted with glee. Gabby placed a cracked bowl and a container of milk on the coffee table.
“They’re magically delicious,” Gabby replied. “We are going to inform the twenty -two thousand followers on my blog, my eight hundred thousand Twitter followers, Facebook, Instagram, my website…all about Auntie Bea’s weird cosmetic ingredients.”
Morgan reached into her bra, taking out the USB with the stolen information.
“Ooh la la,” Gabby said, snatching the device and plugging it into the port on her laptop.
“Won’t be long and Aunt Bea will have to reconsider her product
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