LOLA
The picture Prescot shows me is of a burnt corpse of a woman.
She's wearing an incredibly stylish summer gown, designer made for sure, and gorgeous shoes to go with it. Rings adorn her fingers, and in the ruins of her ears, there are diamond stud earrings.
Whoever she was, she was rich.
"Luna Zedona," Prescott says. "And before she was killed..."
Prescott is a short, but powerfully built man. He has no hair on him that's visible. The baldness of his head I noticed right away. The missing eyebrows and facial stubble took a second. There's literally no hair on him at all.
I try not to stare, but…it's unsettling.
Four years with Homeland Security and people keep surprising me.
He looks moist. Like he lives under a rock.
The way he ran my old boss out of his own office to meet with me was impressive, if a little scary.
And I liked he never looked at my ass or my chest when I came in. That, at least, was a nice change of pace. How many times had my old boss Harris just talked right into my boobs?
Way too many.
Prescott clicks over to another photo. She's wearing different clothes, an evening dress and leather boots. Again, she looks perfectly stylish, but her face has an anger to it, and a coldness in the eyes.
Aside from that, I could be looking in a mirror.
"She looks just like me..."
"Yes. If she didn't, you wouldn't be here," Prescott says, a little testily. "Facial recognition says you're a 98% match. Almost good enough to unlock her phone with your face, except for the pupillary distance, which is a few millimeters off. Nothing anyone would notice, unless they knew her exceptionally well. Her hair style can be matched, of course. She was dyed blond rather than natural, as you are. But of course, only someone who knew herintimately would know that. She was meticulous in maintaining that look, and as far as we've been able to tell, she's never been photographed with her natural hair."
I take a long look at her. It's hard not to feel a kinship with this young woman. If I'd continued down the path I was on before college, I could be just like her now. The beauty queen my senator father wanted. The heiress my mother craved.
It's like looking at an alternate universe version of myself.
"And who is 'we'?" I ask.
"Excuse me?"
"You said as far as we have been able to tell. You meant your organization. Homeland? CIA? Who exactly are you with?"
Prescott smiles. It's creepy, like a giant baby showing his teeth. And he has very small teeth.
Fascinating.
"You're as smart as they said you were. Yes. I'm liaison with Homeland Security, by way of Central Intelligence. What that means for you is I'm running this show. If you choose to accept this mission, you'll report only to me. Your current supervisor, Harris, and the rest of your team will forget they ever knew you.You will be scrubbed from every corner of the internet we find you on. You'll cut ties with your family and friends. You'll be as deeply undercover as it's possible to be."
The breath goes right out of me. On the one hand, it's what I've always wanted. A chance to prove myself. To make a difference. And, if I'm being honest, to do something dangerous for once.
To risk my life.
To get an assignment that my overbearing senator father and nosy debutant mother can't get me kicked off of or sidelined from. A way to win the battle that began the day I stopped doing beauty pageants and applied to Harvard.
I've wanted it so bad. But now that it's looking me in the eye, I'm terrified. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know what Prescott wants from me. He'll want me to become this woman. Luna Zedona. I'll be going undercover as her, living her life. And probably mixing with whatever dangerous people killed her and burned her.
I hope to hell they killed hell first.
I could ask Prescott, but I'm not sure I want to know.
When I swallow, the spit sears down my dry throat. The gulp is so loud, I know he hears it.
"If I say yes?"
"Then your training will begin immediately. There's one other thing you should know before you decide. This mission is not only undercover, but it may involve work which...well, there's no other way to say it… Do you consider yourself a patriot, Miss Robinson?"
"Yes, of course. I wouldn't do what I do if I wasn't."
"Good. Then asking you to suffer and perhaps die for your country's welfare won't shock you. It's already, theoretically, a part of your duties. But this..."
He clicks again and another picture pops up on his laptop.
This guy is huge. And hot.
He must be eight feet tall, and he's built like the Incredible Hulk in a suit. His skin has a green tinge, and instead of hair, he has tentacles on his head. They slither around his face. His eyes glow like hot coals, golden orange. And where his hands come out from his sleeves, more tentacles follow.
Something warm happens between my legs. A twinge of heat blossoms inside me.
I know I shouldn't. I know it's wrong but… I've been haunted by dreams lately. I wake up feeling ashamed of myself for wanting it so much. But in the dreams there's a huge man, and what he puts inside me isn't a a hand. It's warm and wet, and it suctions on to my inner walls like an octopus.
They're not the sort of dreams I should be having. And they definitely shouldn't be turning me on. When I wake up, no amount of touching myself will satisfy me. Nothing touches me the way those dreams do.
I look at the photo again.
He's looking at the camera, obviously furious at being photographed.
Every inch of him radiates power.
"It's been arranged for Luna Zedona to marry this creature."
"Who is he?"
"Mafia, but don't dare call them that. They're monsters, descended from creatures in Faerie. Sentient. They call themselves Raidh, but everyone else calls them the monster mafia, because of their appearance. This creature is the heir to the Nightshade clan, and a figure of interest to us. You're aware, of course, that these mafia clans from Faerie, unlike traditional organized crime, are also an invading force. A dangerous, destructive element."
I nod.
"They think of themselves as royalty," I say. "They rule demesnes in Faerie like feudal lords. Most of the clans view themselves that way on Earth, too. They resent the witch's control of Aether portals, the regulation of travel between realms. They also blame humans for the destruction of their Fae cities, even though that was thousands of years ago."
Prescott nods, smiling appreciatively.
"You know your stuff. Good, my dear. You'll require less training because of the knowledge you possess. And yes, they do blame us. For us, it's been a hundred generations, but for them, it's only a few. Fabian Nightshade's great grandfather was a king here on Earth. He's of the Old Blood. The longest lived and the most powerfully gifted.
"This is an opportunity for us to learn more about them and their secretive ways. To find evidence to destroy his family, and remove their foul influence from our country. And of course, to save lives and protect the less fortunate, whom these creatures prey upon with their foul crimes.
"I know I don't have to entice you, Miss Robinson. Your father has given his life to service, and I'm certain you'd do the same. However...it'll please you to know that if you complete this mission successfully, you'll receive no end of commendations, and have your choice of future postings. You'll be able to, as they say, write your own ticket."
Ignoring Prescott's interpretation of what my father does -- dedicate his life to service? Ha! He's dedicated to being rich and rewarding his rich friends with plush government contracts. He's dedicated to fluffing his own ego.
As much as I've butted heads with my parents, though, I know they love me and want the best for me. It's just their own definition of the best.
And me getting murdered by the mob definitely isn't on that list. I have to be real with myself here...because if I don't make it out of there, my parents could be looking at photos of me like I'm looking at Luna Zedona.
Would they ever recover from seeing me like that?
"If something were to happen to me...my father will dig until he finds out what. If I end up like her, I don't ever want him to find out. I don't ever want my mother to see a picture of me like that."