Chapter Two part 2
Even though she couldn't be much more than 5'6", she looked 18, only two years younger than me. She had long dark hair, and wide, serious brown eyes. Her clothes consisted of what looked like a shirt made out of a patchwork quilt, and jeans that didn't quite reach her ankles, not to mention dilapidated tennis shoes. They all hung very loosely on her fragile-looking little body. I also noticed that her face and throat had several fresh bruises and scratches, and her right eye was swollen. Something about these injuries made me think that they were not due to the rubble falling on her. After a couple of years as a detective, you learn to tell the difference between man-made injuries and the regular kind, and these were man-made. I didn't know who had done them, but I could tell they'd been done. And besides these injuries, there didn't appear to be any other marks on her. My suspicions were aroused at once.
The girl didn't look frightened by the sight of us, so much as bewildered. Possibly she was still in shock over having her house (as I deduced it was) fall on her like that.
"W-What happened? Where's Father?" she asked softly, in a dazed tone. Her eyes darted this way and that, in what looked like random patterns.
"That's what I'd like to know myself, miss," I said. "Can you tell me anything about what led up to the explosion?" I stepped forward, scrutinizing her face. The girl's shoulders stiffened as I got close, and her eyes finally settled on a patch of ground; I wondered if it was well-concealed, internal fear that kept her from looking any of us in the eye.
"Father was angry with me again-and this time, I got angry back. And then everything blew up," she whispered.
I realized where she'd gotten those bruises. And I felt a wave of anger and sympathy.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Calla Gardiner. Who are you?"
"I'm Tristan Wormwood. I'm a gargoyle, and a member of the-"
"Should we be telling her this?" Fleming interrupted, glaring at me.
"Yeah, she's safe."
"How do you know?" he demanded scornfully.
"Because of that." I indicated the particles of magic, which were swiftly floating to Calla. With each breath she took, they were reabsorbed. She obviously couldn't see them; her forehead was puckered in a bemused frown. But Fleming could see them too, and his eyes went wide as he understood what I was saying.
"You mean-?"
"That's right. She's one of us."
This chapter had my favorite ending so far! I also really liked Calla's description, she was fun and easy to visualize. Some of the sentence structure in this chapter seemed a little off to me, but I liked that so much dialogue was included. I also never know what to expect as far as the length of your chapters is concerned - will it be short, or will it be long? I don't think this is necessarily good or bad, just an observation of your writing. I think this particular chapter benefitted from being succint.
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