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"We’ll have new identification on its way to you," Rasmussen tells me. "And you'll begin your training with Olivia immediately at the hotel."
"Olivia?"
"My youngest daughter," Zedona says, and then he adds, sarcastically, "Your new sister."
Olivia Zedona is a dark haired,dark eyed beauty. She's shorter than me and has a slimmer build. She's dressed impeccably, in grungy New York style. The kind of chic look that's hard to hit without knowing fashion in and out.
If I tried to do it, I'd look homeless. But somehow on Olivia, the eclectic pieces she's chosen look cute, and even sexy.
A red beret sits atop her head, and she wears a long, baggy white sweater woven with fat yarn. It's almost a blanket. Tights hug her toned buns and weathered-looking gray boots sag at her knees, somehow making her legs look longer, and drawing the eye right up her thighs.
The sweater is just long enough to not cover her tush.
Before he leaves us alone, Rasmussen gives one final note.
"Play nice with each other," he warns, and then he leaves the room, but not before his eyes comb over Olivia, taking her in.
I don't blame him. There's something raw and feminine and powerful about her. She's the kind of girl menwantand can't have.
She looks at my black pantsuit and comfortable shoes with an air of intense judgment.
"This isn't how I always dress," I say, a little defensively. "I mean, I have to chase people for work sometimes, so the shoes have to be practical."
Olivia turns to her father, who stands at the door.
"Leave."
She turns back, not waiting for the command to be obeyed. Like sheknowshe'll do it.
And he does. The Butcher of Brooklyn, who looks like a major scary guy you don't want to fuck with, just leaves because this tiny woman told him to.
"Did you hear my tone?" she asks.
"Yeah, like you expected him to obey you. It...would take some getting used to for me to talk like that to people. I was raised to be polite."
"You were raised to do what you were told," Olivia says, drily. "And my tone wasfuck off. I said 'Leave', but what I really meant to say was 'Fuck off'. You understand?"
"I-I think so."
Fear swells within me. Can I really do this? I'm going to be walking into a world of people like this -- No, people evenworse. The Raidh. A millennia old monster mafia family, with incredible powers. Royalty, in their own realms. They probably make Olivia and her father look like the Glee Club.
Which I was also a member of at Harvard. Not that I'm telling Olivia that.
"Take off your clothes," she says.
"Excuse me?"
Olivia sighs heavily.
"I know my sister's body better than anyone -- well, inmostways. I need to make sure you meet expectations."
Heat flushes across my skin. I'm pale, so when I blush it's theworst. You can see it from a mile away. But I do what she says. This is a mission, and I'm a professional.
And we’re both girls. So it’s cool, right?
As I slowly take off my jacket and slacks, I notice an intense feeling in my gut. A heat pouring through me.
A prickling between my legs running down my thighs.
