but not before she turned to the shove-a-picture-in-your-face guy. She crumpled the photo into a ball and tossed it back at him. “Take your self-serving pictures back! We’re not impressed!” He scrambled to catch them. She gave him her snottiest, most condescending look.
I rushed her into the nearest office, where Reynaldo sat at a glass and chrome desk. I whipped off my glasses and ogled him.
“Out. Now.”
“Ever hear the word ‘please’? You two sort things out. I’ll be back in five,” he murmured, then glided away. He gave a little two-finger wave as he stepped out and closed the door. It clicked softly.
“Are you … Ah-choo! Effin crazy … Ah-choo! Meg?”
She growled, pointing toward the hall. “Everyone has their limit. They breached mine!”
“Yeah, but now you’re paying the price,” I snapped angrily. “You realize we might get fired, then we’d have to use our powers more just to get close to Arkady, which means more feathers and talons for us! We could be running from animal control before tomorrow’s out!”
She paled and I was immediately sorry. “Are you okay? Here, let me see how bad. You have underwear on, right?”
“Oooh, yes, do let us see. I love a full-figured gal.”
That voice of temptation, frustration, and damnation. Hades. He stood there, arms crossed, casually leaning against Reynaldo’s desk. If Reynaldo saw him, he’d be in love. Hades wore black jeans, which left little to my sick imagination, and a danger-orange silk shirt, open at the neck. I refused to look directly at the intricate design of his belt buckle on the low-slung jeans. If only he wasn’t Hades, and we weren’t indentured servants, and he didn’t have bad intentions.
“Well, ladies, I see you’ve been using your gifts. Impish girls!” He displayed a playful grin.
Meg jumped up. “So glad you dropped in. Would you mind explaining why your mother-in-law is here?”
“She is?” he replied over-innocently.
I poked him in the chest. “Not buying it. Don’t tell us that you had no—”
“Do that again,” he purred, leaning forward.
Now it was my turn to jump back.
“Next time.” Hades pouted, then straightened up. “Demeter’s a goddess, I can’t stop her comings and goings. But you should know that she and I don’t get along.”
“Really?” said Meg thickly.
“Pants a little tight, Margaret? Let me help you.” He snapped, and she was dressed in a flowing skirt. She sighed blissfully, running a hand over the material which sported a small black-and-white pattern of geometric flowers.
“Nice diversion, Hades,” I said tightly. “Spill it; is this another oh didn’t I mention it kind of thing?” He gazed at me as if I’d stabbed him.
“Cara mia, so cruel, so cruel! I wouldn’t deliberately deceive you. As I said, Demeter can appear wherever and whenever she desires. She must’ve gotten wind of my doings, and well …”
“And now we have to deal with her too,” Meg groused. “Wonderful.”
“I admit it is difficult, but it’s not impossible.” Hades leaned against the door.
“How so?” I snapped. “If she’s a goddess, she can stop us from finishing this job.”
He smiled slyly. “Oh no she can’t. We have rules that we must abide by, just like you mortals.”
“So she said,” added Meg, giving her skirt a twirl. She’d better not be distracted. Since when did she care about skirts?
“Yes, Margaret. And once you entrance Mr. Romanov, she can’t undo it. He’ll be under your command.”
“That would be great,” I said, “but I’m pretty sure she’ll see to it that we can’t get within five feet of him.”
“And she might not even have to do that, considering he’s constantly enshrined in that office of his and surrounded by people all day and all night,” Meg added.
“You two worry over the wrong things. Look at you!” Hades picked up a stray feather and brushed it against his cheek while staring intently at me. His bronzed skin was smooth and so soft looking. I blushed furiously and had to shake my head to force my mind to think about other things.
“I’m fine. I haven’t been using my gift that much.”
“No?” He stepped forward, gently took my hand and brought it to his lips. It was then I saw the long, fierce-looking talons.
“Eww!” I always hated long, curved nails, acrylic or otherwise. Too cruel looking, like a bird of prey. I ran around to the desk, yanked open the top drawer, and searched until I found scissors. Quickly I snipped off the offending cartilage.
They grew back.
“No!” I shouted, clipping them again. They grew once more.
I threw the scissors back in