They drove a little while longer. Gus gave her instructions, and she slowed them to a stop. Finally, he heaved the door open, and stumbled out onto the pavement in front of her.
He looked as bad as she imagined. Totally inhuman, covered in creamy fur on his back half, and dark feathers on the front. She’d never seen anything like him—at least not in the real world. Maybe on some old European coats of arms.
He stumbled into the bright light of their headlights, towards a locked gate. His front legs were nothing like the back—dark avian talons, ending in sharp claws.
“Gus, I—”
“I’m not having this conversation right now,” he snapped, so loud and abruptly that she fell instantly silent. “Stay in your damn seat, Eric. Right now, we’re surviving. Just shut up.”