He decided to prolong the anticipation and test his will power. Waiting was good for the soul, even a depraved one. His gaze followed the sleek curves of her body and he experienced a lightning bolt of lust. The woman had class, but he thrust aside any thought of physical gratification as he had many times before. The idea of messing in his backyard was somehow distasteful. Assistants of Sameth’s caliber were difficult to find.
"I thought I’d walk to the headland first and enjoy the fine weather. As I understand, a front is closing in. The rain will keep us indoors tomorrow." He paused and wondered for a fleeting moment about the girl’s family. His assistant was close-mouthed--good for his business purposes but leaving a yawning gap in personal details. Perhaps she had a sister? Or a presentable cousin?
Sameth gave a graceful shrug and indicated her city clothing. "If I were dressed more appropriately, I’d join you. Shall we meet in an hour?"
"Excellent. I look forward to your report."
Sameth strolled with Maximillan down the length of the wooden jetty, the strap of her laptop hitched over one shoulder, their shoes thudding the wooden planks. At the end of the jetty, they parted ways, Maximillan taking the right fork and Sameth the left. She headed straight for the office wanting to open the mail she’d collected at the post office box before Maximillan returned. No doubt, the mail contained more entries for the competition and she wanted to vet them in private.
Sameth tapped on the heavy, steel-plated door and waited. She heard the scrape of metal and knew she was under surveillance. Another metallic rattle was audible before the door creaked open.
"Miss Sameth, I thought you were arriving later," the butler murmured.
Sameth gave an easy smile of greeting. "I finished earlier than anticipated."
"Would you like coffee, miss?"
"Coffee sounds lovely. I’ll be in the office. Maximillan is joining me at eleven."
Jansen nodded. "Very good, miss. I’ll see to coffee and tea for eleven."
Sameth strode past Jansen and headed directly for the office. Something about Jansen made the flesh at the back of her neck crawl. The man might appear benign, but she knew better. He bore the title butler, but the label was a far encompassing one. Put simply, the man carried out disposal work for Maximillan, both on the island and further a field. Body disposal. Sameth had never trusted him, but she maintained a good working relationship with the man. She had no intention of appearing on his list for future disposal.
In the office, she opened the mail and sorted it into piles. The number of acceptances would please Maximillan--twenty-five in total. Initially, they had decided to limit the competition to twenty, but twenty-five was equally manageable and more profitable. A cool twelve and a half million would bolster the coffers for some time.
Jansen arrived with a pot of coffee, a teapot, and a plate of her favorite chocolate and ginger biscotti. Maximillan arrived soon after.
"That was good timing." Sameth smiled and leaned back in her chair, crossing one long leg over the other. The whisper of stockings was loud in the quiet business atmosphere. "I’ve just finished with the mail," she murmured, pretending not to notice the way both men followed the movement of her leg.
Jansen coughed lightly and gestured at the teapot. "Shall I pour, sir?"
"Please, Jansen. How was your week, Sameth?"
Sameth accepted a cup of coffee from Jansen, smiling her thanks. "Excellent. I’ve employed the new staff you requested. They’re due to arrive on the late afternoon launch. I’ve told them to report to the resort office when they arrive."
"Good. That will be all, Jansen. Make sure we are undisturbed."
Jansen nodded and backed from the office, pulling the door shut after him.
Sameth waited until his footsteps faded before she spoke. "We have twenty-five confirmed entries for the Scavenger Hunt, all fully paid on time. I’ve directed the funds to the trust account so now all that remains is for us to contact the entrants with the rules."
A glow of satisfaction flickered across his angel’s face. Sameth looked away to consult her notes. "We’ve decided on fifteen items. I’ll take care of printing the lists this week." She bent to extract a manila envelope from her briefcase.
Maximillan frowned. "Security?"
Sameth schooled her expression to neutral but inside she cursed. Did Maximillan have to question her every step of the way? Surely, after working with him for five years, he realized she was trustworthy? "The printing will take place in house. Your secretary knows discretion is essential. I’ve pointed out the benefits to her health. She understood clearly."
Maximillan chuckled, and the sound produced goose bumps along her arms. "Ah, clever girl."
The words were phrased like a compliment but Sameth experienced little satisfaction. Showing the secretary photos of a mutilated body had made her feel sick. Telling the woman her daughter would suffer the same fate if she blabbed a word of the Scavenger Hunt made her feel as though she’d finally reached the ranks of the lowest. Seeing the horror on the secretary’s face confirmed she’d plummeted straight to hell.
Funny, after five years, she’d thought she’d become immune to what other people thought. Maximillan paid well. Money was a powerful incentive for a girl born into a poor family. There were alternatives, but the idea of spreading her legs for all and sundry bore little appeal. Still, the look on the woman’s face had made her think.
Maximillan tapped the edge of the envelope she’d handed him. "I’m looking forward to the start of the Scavenger Hunt."
"The contestants start arriving next week. I’ve organized suites at the resort, and all the contestants have received invitations to the cocktail party here at the house."
"Ah, the month of the competition should prove interesting."
Sameth stared at Maximillan for an instant, registering the gloating content of the smile. The man looked like a cat with a saucer of cream. The man couldn’t quite conceal his inner elation. She wondered and worried, but smiled coolly. "Indeed," she replied.
Maximillan dropped a slice of lemon into his china teacup. "I’ll leave the details in your capable hands." He handed her the envelope to lock inside the wall safe.
Sameth sighed, sensing instinctively that the next month would make or break her position on the island. That was the trouble when you joined with the bad guys.
Everyone had an agenda.
* * * *
"Great meeting you, Aislyn," Gill said. He enveloped her in a bear hug, much like one of her brothers would have done, and gave her a smacking big kiss on the mouth. "No doubt, I’ll see you before you return home, since you’re staying with Seamus."
"Not if I can help it," Aislyn heard Seamus mutter.
His surliness brought out the devil younger sibling again. "Maybe we could have dinner one night," she suggested, holding her breath while she waited for the inevitable glower and maybe a snarl.
Seamus took a firm grip on her forearm, dragging her away from Gill. "Aislyn, it’s late. We have that appointment to take care of. Remember?"
Read, hurry up, time for you to turn back into a pumpkin. Aislyn wanted to stomp her feet in frustration. What had happened to his sense of humor?
"I can take a hint," Gill said. He climbed into his car, waving as he drove off.
"Have you seen the time?" Seamus stomped along the footpath leading around the rear of his house. "It’s almost two. Someone’s bound to notice you’re missing."
Aislyn shrugged, but couldn’t contain a jaw-stretching yawn. Without warning, her legs trembled and lethargy made her wobble. She plopped down to sit on the first step of a flight of steps that led to the deck. "I’m going to be late turning in my costume," she conceded, "but apart from the costume hire place, I doubt anyone has missed me." Certainly not her parents, since neither were currently speaking to her.
Seamus dropped to the step beside her and grunted. "We’ll head back now. How are you feeling?"
"A bit tired, but we didn’t sle
ep last night."
"You’re not feeling dizzy?"
"No. Should I be?"
"Some of the recruits experience dizziness when they change size. Another side affect that the research team is working on."
"Well, not me," Aislyn boasted.
Seamus shook his head. Didn’t she realize she was wobbling all over the place? She looked like a newly born foal--all gangly legs and no balance. And she was slurring her words.
"You’d better cross your fingers and every other appendage because if one fairy sees us when we cross through the portal, we’re sunk." He reached for her hand and tugged Aislyn to her feet. At first, she resisted then his greater strength prevailed. She moved with the speed of a cork popping from a champagne bottle, smacking into his chest and hitting his chin with her head.
Aislyn rubbed her head. "Ouch! What did you do that for?"
Seamus grabbed her black skirts to keep her upright then frog-marched her to the bottom of his garden. Aislyn staggered, her legs becoming increasingly uncoordinated. By Hades! The lost expression on her face made him want to hold her and never let her go. Mistake! He wished he’d never succumbed to her tears. The female was like a rifle ricochet with no telling which direction she was heading. Muttering a curse, he scooped Aislyn up. At first, he clutched her to his chest, then he changed his mind and tossed her over his shoulder so she dangled like a sack of vegetables. That way, carrying her felt more like a chore.
"Take her through the portal, escort her back to her flat then leave. Think of this as work." His muttered instructions helped him focus.
Once through the portal, he set Aislyn down and activated the shrinking particles. Instead of walking back, he decided to use his Guardian’s armband. He only hoped the damn thing worked since it had played up lately, only working when he held his mouth the right way. A curse usually helped.
"Aislyn, are you awake?" He shook her vigorously. Asleep. A series of small grunting snorts confirmed the thought. Probably for the best--he could drop her back and leave without messy recriminations. He picked Aislyn up, tossing her over his shoulder again.
Seamus rubbed a blue stone embedded in the amulet. Nothing. Scowling, he jabbed the stone with his index finger. A sharp pop sounded in his ears then the sense of weightlessness made him breathe a sharp sigh of relief. At last--something happening according to plan. He’d pop in and out of Aislyn’s flat and no one would suspect a thing.
A flash of lights across his eyes warned Seamus of his impending arrival and he flexed his knees ready for landing. Feeling the ground beneath his feet, he braced. The bright blur coalesced into objects.
Seamus froze, and clasped Aislyn more tightly. "Hell’s teeth. Please don’t let Aislyn wake up," he mumbled, frantically rubbing at the blue stone again. He wished the research department would quit watching old James Bond reruns and forget the whiz-bang gadgets. He wanted magic, and he wanted it now before Murphy and Moira realized their romantic rendezvous had just become a cozy foursome.
He glanced at Murphy’s pale white bottom and screwed his eyes shut. Way more than he needed to know! Seamus inhaled and stabbed the blue button again, picturing his destination clearly in his mind.
"Aislyn’s flat. Aislyn’s flat," he murmured. A flurry of movement on the bed made him freeze.
"Who ... what?" Moira stammered.
Seamus cursed viciously under his breath. If there was ever a time he needed the blasted thing to work, it was now. Work, dammit.
The familiar displacement made him start to breathe again. His knees braced. The world came into focus. Aislyn’s apartment. They’d arrived--in her bedroom no less.
An untidy pile of textbooks propped up a three-legged dresser. The bed was unmade, but the room was definitely Aislyn. Seamus set her down and smoothed the bed covers over her slumbering form.
"Keep safe, little mischief-maker," he murmured, gently brushing her copper curls off her face.
One final glance over his shoulder was all he allowed himself before he left.
CHAPTER SIX
Aislyn’s face screwed up in a jaw-cracking yawn as she sat up in bed, stretching her arms above her head. The raucous crowing of Miss Mapleton’s rooster next door told her it was daybreak. She thought about the day ahead and flopped back to stare at the ceiling, depression taking a firm hold. Perhaps she’d stay in bed all day since there was nothing better to do. Rats, she could spend the week in bed and no one would know the difference. They certainly wouldn’t miss her at sewing class.
Every fairy knew Aislyn O’Sullivan was a big, fat failure.
Yanking the blankets over her head, she screwed her eyes shut and willed herself to sleep. Miss Mapleton’s rooster continued his enthusiastic wake-up call.
"Damn bird," Aislyn muttered flinging the blankets off and leaping from bed. "I’m gonna toss him head first in a soup pot. Feathers and all." She ripped the curtains back and glared out the window in the direction of the bird’s call to arms. Her eyes narrowed as she spied her target. Chicken noodle soup. Her favorite. Aislyn drew a breath, ready to blast the pesky bird with an Aislyn special that would really singe his tail feathers.
"Chook, chook, chook!"
Rats. Aislyn’s hand dropped to her side. Miss Mapleton would ride to the rescue. "Another time, bird brain," she muttered. She’d have to devote her energies elsewhere.
On the job Seamus had offered her. That was her only option. Thoughts of Seamus warmed her from the inside out. Okay, so he wasn’t interested in her romantically, but he’d given her more--an experience to savor for the rest of her life.
Aislyn stripped and climbed into the shower. Wait a minute. Maybe she wasn’t a total loser. Her nose shot into the air, her hands fisted in preparation for a drying spell. No! She’d continue to live without using magic. Next year, she’d apply for the fairy force again.
And she’d keep trying until she became a recruit.
Aislyn darted back to her room and searched the drawers for clothes. The ironing pile produced better results. After dressing in her favorite Kelly green midriff top and a pair of white trousers, she picked up some of the clothes that littered the floor.
The witch’s costume.
Oops. The costume was due back yesterday. No doubt, she’d hear about it. Still, weighing up a visit to Auckland versus an angry Mr. Fitzgerald, she’d do the same again.
Sighing, Aislyn picked up the costume, shook out the worst of the wrinkles, and headed off to face Mr. Fitzgerald. Even though it was early, she knew he’d be at the coffee shop near the square as was his usual custom. Perhaps if she groveled a bit and offered to help him in his shop for a few hours free of charge he’d waive the charges?
The cobbled road leading into the village was poorly lit and riddled with potholes, which was why the rent for her flat was so reasonable. Aislyn walked briskly down the edge of the road, walking as close as practicable to the fuchsia hedges. Last week, while walking to the gym, the milk cart had almost run her down and she had no intention of repeating the eye-to-eye experience with the milkfairy’s Clydesdale horse.
As she passed the Rafferty farm, she waved to old man Rafferty who was out tending his goats. Seconds later, the scramble of pounding feet behind made her whirl. The low warning growls from the two dogs froze her to the spot.
"Mr. Rafferty." Her voice held a distinct quiver. "Mr. Rafferty!" Her heart leapt while she prayed the man would hurry. Magic spell. Magic spell. The dogs stalked nearer. The closest, a huge fluffy Alsatian, growled deep in his throat, his body quivering with the eagerness of the hunt. If only she wasn’t the hunted, Aislyn thought, swallowing nervously. Her mind remained blank of even the most basic spell. Where was Mr. Rafferty?
"Get in behind!" a man’s voice thundered from behind Aislyn.
Aislyn backed away slowly, not daring to take her eyes from the dogs. "What ... what’s wrong with them? They’ve never done that before." As she watched, the hair along the Alsatian’s back stiffened further until the dog looked double its
original size. She bumped into Rafferty and gasped in fear.
"Steady, lass." Rafferty tugged his snowy white beard. "Can’t rightly say," he said, sounding as puzzled as she felt. "Get in behind," he snapped to his dogs. They slunk to his side, and he grabbed both by the collar. "Away with you, lass. You should be all right now."
Aislyn wasted no time, hurrying toward the village. By the time she reached the butter factory on the outskirts of the village, her breath came in rasping pants. She waved at the post lady, riding by on her shiny green bicycle and pretended the woman’s snub didn’t hurt. When she arrived at the doorstep of the café, she paused to catch her breath and gather her composure.
The scent of freshly ground coffee beans perked up her mood. She had to have a latte before she faced Mr. Fitzgerald. After stuffing the costume under her arm, she grabbed the door handle, intending to creep inside. Without warning, a piercing siren blasted into life right behind her. She lurched forward, tripping on the second step. A squeak of alarm escaped as she overcompensated and toppled down the step she’d successfully navigated, landing on her butt. Aislyn’s hands crept up to cover her ears while the witch’s costume dropped to the ground at her side.
Shopkeepers and fairies peered through windows and doors, trying to discover the source of the ear-splitting alarm.
"What is it?" asked Mr. Fitzgerald, from the doorway of the cafe.
"I don’t know," another fairy replied. "I’ve never heard the like before."
A colony defense force vehicle raced down the street. Its blaring siren added to the clamor. Behind the vehicle, a platoon of fairy protectors ran at full speed. The synchronized thud of their feet sounded impressive to Aislyn as she watched in awe.
An announcement started over the loud speaker in the defense force vehicle. "This is a CAT alarm. There is a CAT loose in the colony. Walk straight to the nearest building. Do not run. Do not panic. This is a CAT alarm."
Aislyn’s gasp was covered by the burst of excited, panicked chatter. Pandemonium broke out as fairies raced for cover. Fairies ran in all directions. They tripped over each other, they fell, and Aislyn witnessed more than one panicked fairy run straight into another.
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