Clipped Wings

Intrusion

The car ride is quiet, there's not much to say. Tommy is driving, at the moment he doesn't trust my judgement. We reach the place I was interviewed, the door says: DO NOT DISTURB, INTERVIEW IN PROGRESS

Well, I ignore the sign, and I fiddle with the knob, but the door is locked. So I do what any reasonable man would do, and Tommy doesn't object. I kick the door in.

Before, that would not have been possible, but with my increased strength... Everyone in the room jumps, the camera man, the skinny model being interviewed, and the interviewer, whose name I never even got.

The model had just answered "no," to whatever the interviewer had ask, and my stomach drops as I think of the question he may have asked her. Do you believe in magic?

"Turn off the camera," Tommy orders to the camera man, and he doesn't object.

"You!" I shout, pointing at the lanky man in the chair across the model, but he just places his fingers together and smirks.

"Ah," he says, "Adam, I was wondering when you would come back."

I growl, not caring as the camera man attempts to sneak out of the room unnoticed.

"What did you just ask that girl?" Tommy demands, again the man smirks.

"The same thing I asked your friend and she had the same answer," he sneers, then with a flick of his wrist, the model doubles over and starts coughing. Blood splatters against her bare leg, and she starts to scream and convulse.

"No! Stop it!" I snap, jumping at the man, but it was too late, she had passed out, and two, small bloody wings had sprouted from her back, the feathers matching the same blonde color of her hair. I hadn't realized how much my wings had grown in a month and a half, they were more than twice the size of hers.

"Why would you do that?" I'm practically on top of him.

"People need to start believing in magic again, and everyone looks up to celebrities. If they see some magic in the Hollywood world, they'll instantly believe it." He explains.

I bite my lip until it bleeds. "And how many people's lives have you ruined?" I growl again.

"You mean blessed? She's the second, but not last." He smirks, and with another flick of his wrist I am being held against the wall by an invisible force.

"That's witchcraft," Tommy accuses.

"Indeed," he flicks his wrist, trying to hold Tommy against the wall I assume, but Tommy seems immune to whatever he's doing.

"Damnit," he mutters, "doesn't work on you. How come?" He tilts his head, as if trying to get a better look at my guitar player. "What makes you different?"

I try to say something but all that comes from my mouth are more growls and snarls, I'm more like an animal than a person, right now, I realize with panic.

"Aw, poor Adam," the interviewer pouts, mockingly, "did you think I'd let you say anything else? Such temper, such bite. I wonder what it would look like if you really were an animal. How about that?"

"Leave him alone!" Tommy runs up to the man and punches him. Wow, not what I would have expected, but it worked, because instead of being held against the wall, I'm on the floor coughing.

Ah, poor thing, the voice is back, and it sneers at me. What? No words? You've got nothing to say to your friend?

It's no friend of mine, but I just whimper. Tommy rushes over, his knuckles split from the impact.

"Oh, this was a bad idea, a really, really bad idea." He turns my head so that I look him in the eyes, "it's my job to watch over you, and I nearly got you killed."

I want to say 'it's fine,' but it doesn't work.

"Fix him!" Tommy shouts to the man, who is laying on the floor, his nose bleeding.

He just laughs, "no."

Tommy, just leave it. He's not worth anything.

Unfortunately, me thinking at him isn't going to do anything. He kicks the man in the side, and there's a crack, and an unearthly screech.

"No!" He laughs again, pained and wheezing, but laughs nonetheless.

Tommy swears, and I can tell he's thinking pretty hard. He picked up the man, with effort, then orders, "Adam, get her and follow me."

I get up as fast as I can and make my way over to the model, picking her up, then I exit the room after Tommy. He gets to my car, opens the trunk, and dumps the interviewer in there. Next he opens the back door and has me place the model on the seat. Then we get in and start driving to my home.

I look at him, Tommy, you're gonna have to get my car cleaned up.

He looks back at me, "I'm sorry Adam, but I can't read your mind."

I mouth a curse, and he chuckles despite the circumstance. I glare at him. "Well, I'm sorry, but it is pretty funny. Especially since you-of all people-are the one who can't speak," he says.

Yeah, well it wouldn't be funny to you if you were the one who couldn't speak, especially if you used your voice to make money.

"What was it he said? That he would make you into an animal?" Tommy looks at me, "I'm pretty sure he already did that, but would taking away your speech make it worse?" I shrug. "Yeah," he sighs, "I suppose I won't get much of an answer out of you. Maybe it's only temporary. That'd be nice, eh?"

He stops talking after that, and doesn't say anything until we get home. I get the model, he gets the man in the trunk, and we head inside.

"Put her down here," he points to the couch.

Yeah, Tommy, you seem to be forgetting that this is my couch that you're telling me to lay a bloody model on, not yours. You'll clean up the mess and pay the expenses.

"In my room, in my suitcase, in the top pocket, there's a pair of handcuffs, would you get those?"

Why he has handcuffs, I don't ask. I do as he says and sure enough they're in the top pocket. I grab them and bring them to him, and he handcuffs the man to a pillar in the middle of the room.

"Now," Tommy crosses his arms, "it's my turn to be the interviewer."

**A/N: Well, this chapter wasn't too good, a little fast, but I didn't know what else to do, sorry. Again, thanks for reading, sorry if its a little too fast.**