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"And what's that?"
"Voice modulator."
"Ewww."
He smacked my shoulder. "Stop being a baby."
"Hey, it's not the inside of your cheek that thing is being shoved into it."
"I got hold of some of the smaller ones, just because I knew you'd whine." He showed me the round pieces of soft plastic. They were even thinner than the last ones we'd used, their thickness being little more than that of extremely fine paper. Width-wise, they were no bigger than a small coin. Once inserted, no one would feel they were there unless they were actually looking for the things - or I decided to deep-throat someone. Not an option considering where I was going.
"Open wide, darling."
"I bet you say that to all the men," I muttered, but did as he asked.
He inserted the small plastic chips in either side of my mouth, and it still felt like he was ripping out teeth rather than shoving plastic under my skin.
"Owww, owww, owww," I said, when I could. "You could at least use painkillers when you do that."
"Stop being such a baby. Besides, the surface of the modulators art covered with an analgesic and deaden the skin as they go in."
"Hate to tell you this, but it doesn't work."
"Trust me, this would be a whole lot more painful if it wasn't. Now, say something else so I know they're working properly."
"I hope one day someone does this to you, just so you can see it is painful, painkiller or no painkiller." My voice was several octaves lower, and rich with a huskiness that conjured long nights in smoke filled rooms. A threat had never sounded so sexy, let me tell you.
"Very nice," he murmured, then bent and grabbed a backpack. "You wardrobe and worldly possessions."
"Joy." I unzipped the bag. Inside was jeans, tank tops, a pair of sneakers, a belt that had a real-looking spider as the buckle, a couple of sweaters and one barely-there dress. All of them looked worse for wear, worn and wrinkled looking. Except for the underclothing, all of which was top shelf and extremely sexy.
"A female thief would at least ensure decent underclothing, no matter what other state her clothes were in," Liander commented.
"But I'm not a very successful thief if this bag is all I have to show for it."
"Jack told me your cover had to leave Sydney in a hurry, and to pack accordingly. Why don't you change, then I can get on with transforming Rhoan."
"And just what are you going to do with Rhoan?"
"Brown on brown. Boringly so."
I raised an eyebrow. "If you're hoping boring will mean less appealing, I'm thinking it won't work."
He smiled. "No, but he hates boring, so it's a chance to get back at him a little."
I chuckled softly. After changing into the jeans and a dark-green tank top, I studied myself in the mirror. Someone remarkably younger, with a whole lot of sex appeal and attitude, stared back at me. Despite my original misgivings, I had to admit, it was a fantastic look. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "You do good work."
"I am the best at what I do," he said loftily, then grinned. "Go tell that loser brother of yours it's his turn."
I headed out, and even Jack did something of a double take. "Now that's what I call smashing."
"I think I should be offended about all these sudden comments. It's only a hair and skin-color change. The rest is still me."
"Except for the voice," Rhoan said. "You could make a fortune on those phone-sex lines."
"We'll see who's laughing at whom when he finishes with you, smart ass." I glanced at Jack as Rhoan headed off. "This look doesn't really match the type of person Dia seems to pick."
"As I said, she doesn't pick only prostitutes. Her other choices generally have good figures and looks, are clean disease-wise, and have a background that checks out - someone who needs to make a lot of money and who doesn't mind spreading her legs to do it."
