"Sorry." She gives a wan smile. "I forget you don't speak nerd."
"You speak it well enough for the both of us. Who wiped the file, Annabel?"
She turns a little pale but says in a clear, strong voice, "Agent Tentrite."
Annabel
"THIS IS JUST like when we were teenagers." I grin up at Sarah, who scowls because I moved. She has a pair of scissors in one hand and a lock of my hair in the other, and she's thinning the edges like a professional hairstylist.
I've bleached my hair to a respectable housewife blond, and now, Sarah's giving me a shoulder-length layered 'do. "Remember when you shaved the side of my head and dyed the bangs purple?"
Sarah laughs. "We were so sure mom would freak out, but she didn't say a word."
"Yeah, I think she actually got the last laugh on that one."
We both sober, grief from our mother's death still present after two years.
My sister sifts her fingers through my hair. "This is pretty extreme."
"You don't think it looks good?"
"No... it's just hard to think of my baby sister dyeing her hair and going undercover."
"It's not that big a deal," I say, even though my stomach is flipping at what Charlie and I are about to do. "I'll be fine."
She sighs. "Don't lie to me. I know it's going to be dangerous. You won't even tell me what it is."
"That's for your protection. Hey," I grab her hand and squeeze. "I'm not lying. I'm going to be careful. Besides, Charlie will be with me. Do you really think he'd let something happen to me?"
Biting her lip, she shakes her head. Already she looks less worried. There's a bit of Charlie hero worship reflected in her eyes.
"So, tell me," Sarah says in a low voice even though we're in the bathroom, and Grady's watching The Incredibles out in the living room. "Did you two have a quickie while we were out for our walk this morning?"
I smile at her in the mirror and waggle my eyebrows. "It wasn't that quick."
She grins back. "It's about time you-"
"Shut up."
She and I both know my dating life is non-existent. My single-parent sister does way better in that department which doesn't say much.
"He's hot."
I shift in my chair, still sore in all the right places from the rough way he took me. "Yeah, definitely."
"So? Is it forbidden?"
"Handler-field agent relationships? I don't know. Probably. Even if it's not, it's highly impractical."
"Because they travel around a lot? Live in high danger?" Sarah uses a star-struck tone like we're talking about a Mission Impossible character and not the very real, very sexy Charlie Dune who hopefully can't hear us from the kitchen where he's eating his eighth meal of the day while he makes us fake IDs. He even printed credit cards with our new names. I had no idea such a thing was possible, and I've worked at the agency for ten years.
"I mean, actually, it's probably not forbidden for the field agent. They're allowed to pretty much do anything they want, so long as they complete their missions. But I might be reprimanded. I don't know."
Sarah's lips twist into a knowing grin. "Worth it?"
"So, worth it." I want to tell her all about it-she is my sister, after all-but the thought of Charlie overhearing is too embarrassing. I just make my eyes really round in the mirror and nod my head slowly like I'm in awe.
Sarah smothers a giggle. "So, you're going as Mr. and Mrs. What-was it?"
"Barnard. Brett and Melinda."
"Mindy Barnard," Sarah muses as she bends her knees to get eye level with me and cuts my bangs. "It has a cute ring. When's your birthday?"
"March 13th, 1986."
"Your sign?"
"Um... Pisces. No one is going to ask me that. I'm not using a fake ID to get into a bar."
Sarah shrugs. "You never know. Better safe than sorry."
I roll my eyes, but secretly I'm glad Sarah's enjoying this and not getting overly freaked out.
Charlie appears in the doorway. His eyes lock onto mine, and I swear they turn ice blue again. His nostrils flare. "Fuck," he says, and shakes his head like a dog shaking off water.
"What?"
"You look…"
I tug my hair out of Sarah's grasp. "It's horrible, isn't it?"
"No." His voice sounds strangled. "I loved the red, but…" He shoves his hands in his pockets. "You look good. Really good."
I cock my head to the side. "You got a thing for blondes?"
"No, I-" He stops. "Not until now, I didn't," he mutters as he literally walks backward, his eyes still glued to mine.
Finally, with another shake of his head, he hits the kitchen.
Charlie
GODDAMN.
It nearly killed me to tell Annabel she had to cut and dye her hair. Especially since I haven't fulfilled my fantasy yet of riding her from behind with a fistful of that dark auburn thickness to hang onto.
But she looks absolutely angelic as a blonde. The deep red played up her personality-she rocked with the large-framed glasses and the dark lipstick. Now she looks like the girl next door. And damn if I don't want to tie her to the bed and fuck her until she weeps for mercy.
I bang around in the kitchen, trying to satisfy my lust with food. I can't seem to eat enough.
After a full spaghetti dinner, I'm still hungry for red meat. I've already eaten the cans of chili in the cupboards. I pull out a container of spaghetti sauce and eat it straight out of the jar. And let me tell you-it has pathetically few chunks of meat for what's advertised.
I can't seem to eat down the heat though. Every day the moon waxes, and I still don't know what will happen when it's full.
I'm restless as hell. I want to be outside, running-hunting.