The first thing he noticed was the way she moved. Not just graceful, fluid. Maneuvering through the crowd deftly but without any appearance of speed o... haste. At the tail end of the short skirt season she was wearing a tight black skirt and black tights, a tight black sleeveless top. From twenty feet away she looked like a living statue, weathered brown but taut and strong. Her short black hair barely moved with her movements.He was in no hurry and was drawn to her. He'd meant to move crosstown. There were no accidents in Sheila’s world. The physical contact was deliberate. She was either playing with me or testing me, not that it made any difference. She was the chief.Titillating as her touch was, I shook my head and studied the multitude of organizational charts for the colony. Thirty-seven black boxes representing each member of the Sisterhood and one grey box labeled “SkyWolf” adorned each page; my little box attached directly to Sheila’s.The Sisterhood’s Tables of Organization. More

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