Drake watched as Rob paced the empty, dusty kitchen. His head went to the left as he attempted to make sense of the way the other man waved his hands in the air. Rob stopped and crouched near the counter with the sink.
“She stood here,” he muttered. “Who is she?” The Chronomancer rose, and motioned as if he were tracing the outline of someone’s body. “Not a Key. Is that why I cannot see her as yet?” He stalked over to the dust laden table. “He leaned here. He seems to be a Key. Hmm.” Rob placed his left hand to his chin and upper lip. His elbow rested on his right wrist as he stared at the table. His head tilted to the right and he pinched his lower lips between his thumb and index finger as he thought. “Why can’t I see them?”
Drake shifted his feet, trying to bring feeling back to them. His movement caused Rob to look his way. His head came down and he stroked his forehead with his hand. “What am I missing, Drake?”
The larger man shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a shame we weren’t here sooner.”
Rob straightened, and snapped his fingers. “Brilliant, old boy!” He raised both hands to the air and made odd gestures. He seemed to be patting the air.
Drake moved to the doorway, and leaned against it. His right ankle crossed over his left as he folded his arms to watch the weirdness. Rob moved around the room, patting here and there in the air. He next seemed to be tugging on something the werewolf couldn’t see. He took a few snuffling breaths. He shook his head. ‘There’s nothing here except me and him. What the hell is this fool doing?’
Rob’s eyes opened. Drake straightened, mouth agape. ‘His fucking eyes are glowing and rainbow colored! What the fuck?’
- Jennifer Steel, Agent of the F.S.I.A (raw update) (beginingsinwriting.wordpress.com)