Sirenz (15 page)

Demeter was at the reception desk when I went back in.

“Margaret, a word.”

“Sorry,” I whispered, patting my scarf. “I'm not feeling well.”

“Save it, dearie. We both know you're perfectly capable of talking. Don't worry. I'll make sure no one interrupts us.” I heard the doors bolt.

“What do you want, Demeter?”

Her look was disapproving. “What kind of friend are you? Leaving Sharisse to toil away while you have a rendezvous. She hasn't had much fun since you've been saddled with your mission. You got Jeremy—what did she get?”

I knew where this was going and I didn't answer.

“She could find happiness like you—and you'd both be free.”

“With Hades?” I retorted. “I don't think your daughter wants Shar anywhere near him, and I
know
Shar doesn't want his attention.”

“Persephone is young and rebellious.”

“She's a big goddess. I think she can take care of herself.”

“I liked it better when you minced your words, Margaret. Those who go toe to toe with the gods stumble and eat dirt. Some become dirt.”

Demi raised her hands and all the doors opened—I'd been dismissed.

I found Shar finishing up the thank-yous.

“That's it, the last of them,” she sighed, leaning back after she'd rubber-banded the last stack. “Make it to the bathroom okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, and left it at that. She didn't need t
o be enlightened on current events—my interlude with Jeremy might annoy her, and my conversation with Demeter woul
d definitely depress her.

About an hour later, Jeremy left with Arkady. As soon as they got onto the elevator, Reynaldo grabbed his hat and scarf and dashed off toward the stairwell.

“Date with Andre,” Shar explained. “He told me all about it while you were out. He was totally stressing over what to wear, what to say.”

“He's always having a conniption,” I grumbled. “But look, Jeremy told me that he and Arkady might be gone for the rest of the day, and if Reynaldo is on a long lunch …”

“Let's not waste any time.” Shar got up. “So, when did Jeremy tell you this?”

When I didn't answer immediately she sighed loudly. “Bathroom?”

I turned three shades of red and nodded.

“Whatever.” She flicked her hair and quickly strode away.

Down we went to Jeremy's office. Shar looked around cautiously before going in.

“We'll start here—you check the desk, I'll do the computer,” she ordered after we'd slipped through the door and shut it behind us. I found nothing in the drawers, and had just shut the last one when the office door opened.

Callie stood in the entrance, her right hand still on the doorknob. A techie tool bag was slung over her shoulder, and in her free hand she clutched an extra-large bag of chips.

We froze, and she stopped dead, seeing us. Her dark, bug-like eyes narrowed as she looked from me to Shar.

“What are you two doing in here?” she demanded, in her high and grating voice.

“Trying to find Mr. Romanov's schedule, why?” said Shar, looking nonplussed. “What are
you
doing in here?”

Callie looked taken aback. “I, uh, always make my rounds when Mr. Romanov goes for his mud baths. I have to do the back-ups.” She looked ready to bolt or scream for help.

“Well, we have to review his schedule for new treatment options. We couldn't do it while Jeremy was working, and this is the only computer we have access to, but I think the program froze. Can you help us?”

“Morons,” Callie said. “Next time, call me when something like this happens.”

Setting her chips and tool bag on a filing cabinet, she shooed Shar out of Jeremy's chair and plunked herself down on it, making the air-cushion seat hiss. We stood behind her as she peered at the monitor. Shar had gotten as far as the password screen, but of course neither of us knew Jeremy's, or anyone's, password. Still, Shar had tried typing in something; a string of black dots almost filled the code-box.

Callie grabbed a pencil off the desk and tapped the point against each dot in succession. When she got to the end, she sighed dramatically and shook her head. “Typical!” she spat, disgusted. “You spelled the password wrong! There's only nine letters in ‘longevity,' not ten.”

She deleted Shar's erroneous entry and typed in the password. After a few rapid mouse clicks, up popped Arkady's schedule.

“Thanks,” I said, maneuvering myself toward the keyboard. “We're good from here. We just have to print it out …”

Callie raised a hand to stop me. “I'll do it for you. I don't need you two messing up my systems!”

A few seconds later, the printer whirred and a sheet slid out.

Shar snatched it up. “If we move the Botox up one hour, we can squeeze that new treatment in, don't you think?” she said smoothly. I was seeing shades of Hades—having to do all the talking was turning her into a silver-tongued Shar-latan.

I nodded with authority.

Callie eyed us suspiciously as she pushed up her black-framed glasses with a finger. “Are you sure you're supposed to be in here?”

“Do you think Jeremy can be in two places at once? He had to go out with Mr. Romanov, and he needs us to map out these appointments so he can schedule them when he gets back in tomorrow,” Shar said. “I wouldn't want to be the one to explain to Mr. Romanov why he'll have to wait eight weeks for new hair follicles.”

I could add to the conversation, but Shar was doing fine on her own. I gave Callie gave a menacing glare and she backed up a step.

“We have what we need. The room's all yours,” said Shar. She turned to go, with me following close behind.

Callie watched us closely as we left.

“Mission Impossible?” Shar giggled, when we were safely away.

I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “I don't think so!”

This Ain't No Bed of Roses

With a copy of Arkady's schedule safely tucked into the tight pocket of my jeans, the rest of the day seemed a breeze. Tonight we would look it over, pick the best spot, and voilà! We'd be back to hum-drum school, prom, and graduation. And my shoes! My two dozen pairs of beloveds were getting dusty waiting for me. I know Meg couldn't wait either. She was getting close to being completely covered with feathers. If it weren't winter, she'd be dying of heat stroke, covered in fluff and continually wearing long-sleeved, high-necked sweaters.

On the way back to the apartment, we stopped off at the post office to mail the thank-you cards. Meg stayed outside, iPod in place, while I went in.

Between the dim lighting and my shades, the post office was dark. I bumped into the metal detector by the door. Enough! Frustrated, I pulled off the glasses and made a beeline for the outgoing mail slot. I could see now, but thanks to my monstrous bird feet, I managed to trip over a non-slip rug that had bunched up near the door.

When a nice man grabbed my elbow to steady me, without thinking I smiled at him warmly and gushed, “Thank you so much, you didn't have to do that!”

He promptly let me go. My head twitched—it had never done that before.

The man was standing next to me, staring at me with glazed eyes.
He was enthralled.
Damn! My toes were already fused and I sported scaly skin up to my knees. My fingers were curving like those old ladies who tried to look hip with long nails that yellowed and twisted, just like mine were now. The skin around my elbows was scaly and it was working its way down. My head twitched again.

“
Ase me isihi!
” I said to him, and he turned and left. I dumped the cards in the box and hurried out, tripping over the stupid rug again.

“What's the matter with your head?” Meg asked.

“I don't know. It just started.” My head jerked back and forth, sometimes up and down. I was getting seasick.

“Does anyone in your family have epilepsy?” Meg craned her head and frowned while she studied me. People passing moved over a little farther than they needed to.

“It's really weird,” she added.

“Ya think?!”

“What you need is a cup of chai.” Meg clasped my arm and led me, twitching away, several doors down to a Starbucks. She pushed me into a chair.

“I'll order,” she said.

“Do you think you should? You're running out of bare skin,” I warned.

“I can handle it. Sit there and don't look at anyone.” She walked off.

As I watched her join the line, I caught the eye of a college kid. He smiled tentatively at me. Raising a hand to my mouth, I blushed daintily and …

What is wrong with you?? Do you want to grow a beak?
I really was a bird brain! Frantically I groped for my shades. Finding them, I slapped them on my face, only to have them rocked off as my head twitched again.

Too little, too late. Here came College Boy, tongue hanging out.

Damn, damn, damn!

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered throatily.
Ugh! Coffee breath!
Didn't people realize how stinky it was?

“Go home. Study hard. Ace all your exams.”

“For you, anything!”

“And
ase me isihi!
” I dropped my gaze to my ugly hands, waiting to see if I'd lose a finger. Or two. No, but suddenly my shoes felt incredibly tight. There was a ripping sound as the talons on my feet cut through my boots. How can anyone explain boots with claws? My nose felt a little longer too. I whipped out my compact.

My nose
was
longer! Now I looked like Gerda Shumholz from eighth grade; that girl had a honker that would look too big on the Sphinx!

Meg returned, plopping two cups on the table. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“Stop staring! It's embarrassing enough!”

“I leave you for three minutes, only to find you looking like … like …” She searched for a description.

“Like Big Bird! I know!”

She dropped into the chair opposite me. “What happened?”

I gave her a mutinous look. “I accidentally enthralled some guy.” I pointed subtly at University Dude behind her. She looked over her shoulder, then turned back to me.

“Only one guy, and
that's
what happened?”

I started to say yes, then remembered about the older man in the post office. I closed my mouth.

“
Two
guys? Please tell me it was only two!”

I nodded morosely. Meg sighed, her shoulders drooping. Then she started to giggle. I guess she couldn't help it, but it still pissed me off.

“Shut up!” I warned through clenched teeth. The more she tried to stop, the worse it got. People were glancing our way, some smiling, but I didn't know if it was because of Meg and her silvery Siren laughter or my horrible appearance. I assumed the worst.
Oh sure, laugh at the ugly girl
. It made me uncomfortable to realize that I myself had been guilty of that sin.

A tear slid down.

“Oh Shar, don't cry!” Meg looked suddenly stricken. “I didn't mean to. I just couldn't help myself.”

With a sniffle and a swipe, I nodded. “I know. It's just that when you're as vain as me, this is the worst.”

Meg pushed my cup toward me. “Have a sip.”

“Thanks.
Ah-choo
!”

She leaned away. “Take another Claritin.”

I tried to get the pill into my mouth, but I kept missing it because my head kept jerking. In frustration, I dumped th
e pill into the chai and waited for it to dissolve.

“You know, you look familiar.”

“I'm your roommate. You live with me.”

Meg waved a hand. “No, I mean the twitching.” She rubbed her chin absently. “I know! Your head moves like a bird's!”

“Geez, the hits just keep on coming! If this doesn't end soon, I'll have whiplash.” I walked over to the self-service bar and nabbed a straw. It was either that or finish wearing the rest of the cup. My beautiful, winter-white scarf was spotted with drops of chai. Hades was definitely going to buy me a new one.

“We'd better get you home,” Meg said.

Thankfully, only an Asian tourist stopped to stare at my feet.

“Vivienne Westwood,” I said, and kept walking.

At the apartment, Meg pulled out Arkady's schedule and looked over the entries while I peeled off the remnants of my boots.

Meg thumped the paper. “Here. He's going to be at the Brightwater Clinic for a graft tomorrow at two p.m. And there's a notation that says ‘back door.' I guess he's trying to be discreet.” She held up the iPhone. “There's a portal somewhere in the alley by the back exit. If we can just be there when he arri
ves …”

“Then we'll wing it. No pun intended.”

Meg pulled back a bit of her sleeve. Her sleek black feathers, which under the light revealed a rainbow-like sheen, came down to her wrist. “I don't have much room left for mistakes.”

“Tell me about it. What's next for me, the full yellow beak?”

Meg stretched and yawned. “I'm going to take a shower. At least my hair is still my own. Order something, will you? I'
m sta
rving!”

I was about to pick up the phone when I saw something lying on the counter—a strawberry, as fat as my fist and dipped in dark chocolate, sitting on a gold plate.

Hades
.
That guy just never lets up.
I stared at it, then picked it up and took a huge bite.

“Mmm, delicious,” I said with my mouth full. “But unoriginal.” After polishing it off, I padded into my bedroom. A trail of red rose petals led the way.

“Cliché.” I trampled them.

A sexy black lace chemise lay draped over my pillow.

“Dream on.” I took off my jacket and opened the closet door. A couture-line Badgley Mischka creation hung there.

I yelled. “Okay, nice—not that I can go anywh
ere looking like this.” I pushed the gown aside and took out my pink Victoria's Secret sweat-jammies. I paused.

“You're not going to watch, are you? Don't make me tell your wife.” Coming out of the closet, I saw that the lingerie was gone. When I peeked down the hall, the petals had disappeared. Then the doorbell rang.

Hesitantly, I turned the knob, wondering who would be waiting on the other side. I opened the door—and stood toe to toe with a smirking Hades, dressed in a Papa John's uniform. He held up three pizza boxes. The smell wafted out: cheese, pepperoni, and onions. I lost my appetite.

“What, are you part-timing now? They say the economy is bad, but Olympians delivering pizza and answering phones?” I shook my head. “What a sad day. What's next, vacation cruises to Tartarus?”

“My services are free of charge,” he said. His voice, like silk, slid over me like a warm breeze, leaving chills in its wake. Only he could make his cheesy outfit look good. I wished Persephone was able to come pick up her playmate. Although no doubt she'd find a way to blame me for his showing up unannounced in my doorway.

“We didn't order Papa John's. Or pepperoni. Sorry. Wrong address, wrong order.” I went to slam the door in his face. I wouldn't have that satisfaction when I became his prisoner—unless a more powerful god showed up to free me.

The door started to reverse course. Hades snapped his fingers and the pizza—and silly uniform—were gone. And so was the apartment. Suddenly I realized that we were in a sumptuous bedroom; the dark paneled walls gleamed in the light of hundreds of candles. A massive round bed, with a thick mattress canopied in sheer white curtains, dominated the room. On the left was a steaming bath big enough for a swim team, complete with floating rose petals and bottles of scented oils. Two champagne flutes, the contents bubbling up merrily, waited beside a plate of succulent fruits.

“Welcome to my boudoir,” he purred.

His place?! I felt panic settling in.

On the right was a table smothered with all manner of food: meats, vegetables, breads, and the most wondrous selection of desserts. Every temptation, and I'm sure more I couldn't even dream up, waited there.

He stood behind me. His breath was hot on my neck but I got goose bumps—his lips were too close to my skin. He moved in to kiss me and I dodged him, running toward the bed.

Bad move!

My heart pounded, fear making my blood rush through my body. When he moved closer, I held out my clammy
normal
ha
nds to ward him off.

“I don't date married men. I have a job to finish. I think my mother's calling me. Your wife's gonna kill me!” What els
e could I add? Oh, yeah. “Take me back.”

“I can give you so much more,
cara mia
. Give me just one night.”

I shook my head in denial, but he merely laughed. “I can see the passion in you,
Sharisse.” He leaned
dangerously close but I refused to cower, even if I did skirt around, away from that monstrous bed.

“Margaret has time for Jeremy. You can make time for me.”

I turned on him angrily. “I don't think so!”

Against my will, he brought my hand to his lips. I tried to tug it away, but it was useless. He was more powerful, even without being a god. I'm such a girl. I should sign up for some strength training.

His tongue drew little circles around each of my knuckles, his full lips trailing lightly over my skin.

If only he were someone—anyone—else!

“Forget about Margaret. We'll make a new deal.”

My head was spinning from breathing so fast. My knees wanted to buckle, and I think they actually started to shake. With one smooth motion, he captured my lips and body for a searing, stop-my-heart kiss. Ooh, temptation! I felt faint, but strangely alive. It took a few moments before I was able to turn my head aside, breaking contact.

“I will destroy the contract,” he drawled. My fingers dug into his shoulders because I felt too weak to stand on my own. “We'll make a better one.”

“No.” My voice was breathy.

“Is it so much? One evening of your undivided and
willing
attention and you keep everything. A single night with me and the contract is gone, Arkady is someone else's problem, and I'll even free Margaret. Plus, you can retain the money, the apartment, and the Visa, with plenty more to follow. Anything you desire.”

“What about Persephone?” I gasped as he leaned in to nip my shoulder. My legs were definitely trembling now. He held me closer, molding his body to mine. I was scared. Force was ugly, no matter how pretty the package.

“Don't worry about her. She'll never know.”

“Trust me, she'll know. And whatever you say about protection, I'm sure I'm a dead woman. So the answer is
no
.”