My eyes open slowly. Wait! My eyes are open? I'm alive? I sit up quickly and run my fingers across my stomach. "I'm alive?"
"Duhhhh!"
"Who the hell is in here now?" I scream.
"Relax babe, it's me." Kit turns on a lamp and plops down on my bed. He draws me into a tight hug.
"What the actual fuck is going on?" I pull away, pushing a light comforter from my body.
"Evangeline, you're home."
I look around the room. "I'm home! I'm finally back!" I laugh, tears fighting against my lashes.
Kit runs a thumb under my eyes, caressing my jaw. "I missed you."
"Benedict?" I yell. "Where's my baby?"
"I'm right here, only baby you need." Kit kisses my cheek.
I push him off, hopping up and searching my room. "Ben!"
"He's here! Relax! Now, don't kill me, but I shot him." Kit grimaces, hiding his face in my blankets. "After Kingston shot you with the electrashock- ya know that gun that Mary designed last year? Benny boy freaked and clawed Kingston's face off and I shot B on the lowest power. He's all good though, he's in our hospital recovering." Kit blushes. "Sorry."
"Is he going to live?" I question, clutching my buzzing stomach.
"Yes! It was just a shock! You got one too, that's why you're alive." Kit explains.
"Now, who the fuck is Kingston?" I cross my arms. "And where's Tanner? I want to see him!"
Kit rubs his temples. "Eve, sit down."
"No. Explain."
"Sit down, babe, please. That gun screwed with your electrons and now your body's cells are all negatively charged and just sit the fuck down, pretty please." Kit rambles.
I watch as he runs frantic hands through his hair.
"Tanner is gone. We hired Kingston five months ago. The night you were excused, six months ago, Tanner left or was fired, I'm not sure. I only know that he's not here." Kit waits for my reaction.
My brain slows. I'm still in love with Tanner.
"Kit, is he dead? Is Tanner dead?" I choke.
Kit widens his arms and I crawl into his lap. "Kit, what if he is dead? What if my father killed him, Kit? What do I do?" I squeak.
"Come here."
I lay on his chest and he props his chin on the top of my head. "Tanner told me he was back last night, he whispered it into my ear."
Kit sighs, loosening his grip on me, "Evangeline... That was me, I'm sorry, I thought it'd reassure you. I didn't want you to pass out scared. I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to-"
"Hey, it's okay. I'm glad it was you," I smile, wiping tears from my cheek.
Kit rocks me for a bit in the dark silence.
"Why didn't you and that British boy ambush me at my apartment? Why'd you go to Emilio's Jewels?" I ask in a hushed tone.
"Someone bought that apartment off the books. Whoever it was used their own money. Johnson is so pissed."
I nod sleepily.
A quick knock on the door draws me from my groggy state.
Kit untangles himself from my body, laying me down gently. "Hi," He smiles as he answers the door. A woman talks to him for a bit and I turn to my side. Whiskers brush my cheek.
"Ben!" I cheer, snuggling my baby into my arms. Poor Benedict got a shave on his stomach. We cuddle up together until Kit returns.
"That was Mary, she felt so bad that her gun had hurt your devil cat that she decided to personally deliver him back to you." Kit explains, sitting at the foot of my bed.
"He's no devil cat. Kingston started it." I defend, scratching behind Ben's ears.
"Listen to me," Kit turns back to the door, "You need to be careful. Cap'n wants to see you soon and rumor has it he's fucking pissed you screwed with his shit," Kit whispers quickly. "I've got to go- Johnson has me doing more and more missions and it's training time."
He kisses me on the head and pets Benedict before rushing out of my door.
*
"Evangeline Johnson, agent number 001, report to 000," the speaker system nags.
I pick myself up from my bed, glance in the mirror, give up on making myself look presentable, kiss Benedict, and walk slowly to the awful, black chamber of an office.
*
I'm back to staring at the black, metal desk and my father's old scar.
"You look awful," The Captain comments.
"I'm sorry, I was shot about seven hours ago," I glare.
My father laughs. "Now listen, I'm not going to apologize for what I did to you and you're not going to apologize for killing Montoya or fucking up my database, I get it. We're very similar, you know. We do anything to get what we want."
I remain silent.
"Aww, Still so bitter about Tanner? Didn't find another prince charming on the streets of New York? God, it must've been hard looking at all of those wedding rings every night knowing you would never have one of your own on those bony, little fingers." My father grins, blue eyes gleaming with control. "Anyways, all of this is besides the point. I've got a job for you."
I stare down at my fingers. "What is it?"
"Drug bust."
I nod slowly.
"Also, Evangeline, I've called you back because I need my best agents. You are one of them. I'm reinstating you," My father leans back, crossing his arms. "For the record, you and your shit hacking played no part in this."
I roll my eyes. "When do I start?"
"Now! Let me call your accomplice for the debriefing." My father turns to his computer and begins prepping.
"Kingston Hayes, agent number 002, report to 000," The speaker system orders.
"How is he already ranked as the second agent? He's been here for five months!" My eyes grow wide as multiple people walk through the large, thick door.
This is absolutely mad. No agent has ever worked their way up so quickly- how am I supposed to work with someone who I've never-"
"I'm Kingston."
I look up from my lap to see a muscular arm and an outreached hand. His arm leads to a set of defined shoulders and a set jaw speckled with hair. Kingston has medium, dark hair and light, brown eyes.
My jaw drops.
"And you, my dear?" He grins.
"Eve- Uh.. Evangeline." I stutter.
"Eve, you need to learn to calm your pussy," He winks.
"I beg your pardon?" I choke, glowing red.
"Your cat? Ben or Benedict or something? Scratched my face a good bit. Anyways, lovely to meet you. Sorry about shooting your stomach. Are you alright?" Kingston bends down slowly, picking the edges of my shirt up. "Oh good, no scarring."
I choke on my response. "Yeah, yep. Okay, very nice to see you again. I'll calm my puss- Benedict, thanks." I mentally facepalm.
"Kingston! Sit the fuck down! Everyone take a seat, time to debrief." My father yells over at us.
We both gather up with the rest of the group. I look around quickly. Mary, our weapons coordinator sits to my left, Kingston to my right, our personal stylists sit to the front, our technical support sit behind, and Jeff, the manager stands at the front with the Captain.
"Alright, drug bust," Captain Johnson begins, clicking into his map. "This is our location- an apple orchard in Texas. This orchard is a couple years old and has been on my radar for quite some time. There is however, very little evidence of drug activity. What demanded my attention initially, was the rise in visitors."
I study the map and the rolling, green hills. It's quite a beautiful establishment.
Johnson continues his presentation, making eye contact with each member of his audience. "The orchard hosts school field trips, business getaways, and it employs about one hundred people. This town is just about desolate, so the orchard is an important part of the community. Crime rates and death rates in the town have increased significantly, which leads me to believe that criminals are appearing and staying. Why would a drug dealer nest so closely to their drugs though? I believe they are waiting in line for a new drug being produced. What this drug is called or made from is unknown to myself and the people I have investigating. I sent an agent in about a year ago and he sent in some information about effects of the drug. The drugs gives you super powers- or your mind super powers." My father hesitates. "Kingston, what super power would you choose if you could have any in the world?"
"I suppose I'd have super strength." Kingston shrugs.
"On this drug, you would feel invincible. Say you've taken the drug and you believe that you're incredibly strong. You jump in front of a train to stop it, because you believe that you're monstrously strong, and you get crushed. No big deal! One person died, but the thing is, everyone wants to have that feeling- that rush of power. Can you see why this is a problem? Once the dealers get their hands on these drugs, people will be dying all over the world at a very quick rate." My father waits.
"What if I wanted to mind read, how would that kill me?" Kingston leans forward with a curious look.
My father nods, "You tell yourself you can mind read and you begin to read your mother's mind. You make up the things that she says because the drug makes you feel in control. You could imagine her saying something awful about you and you kill her. This drug will make one feel in control, invincible, powerful, and unstoppable."
I wait a moment before asking, "How are the drugs being transported?"
"Ah, yes," My father grins. "They are hollowing apples and injecting the drug. I'm guessing the drug is in liquid form, so the buyer merely eats the apple. It's all quite genius."
I watch as the support team jot notes and talk in groups.
"I'm sending you two in to gather information, find proof of the drugs, and halt transport. You need to get to the drugs before they are distributed."
"What happened to the informant?" I ask, crossing my legs.
"Dead." The Captain replies solemnly. "It's time to go get styled, the stylists have your portfolios already. More questions in a bit."
*
"Eve! Oh baby, wonderful to see you again," Marcel squeals. "And that Kingston, holy shit I want to hit that, okay? Can I get an amen?"
"Amen!" I praise, nodding.
Marcel is short with fuchsia glasses and a blush scarf to match, he's been the woman's stylist since I've been ten. "Portfolio says you have to get information- so we both know what that means," Marcel grimaces. "Lots of sex."
I sit in the stylists chair for what seems like ages while Marcel blabs on and on of his latest adventures. I get a full body shave, a spray tan, long, brunette curls, dark eyelashes, whitened teeth, some new piercings, new nails, a small heart tattoo with the letter T in it- which Marcel insists is for The Pearl and not Tanner Rinaldi. We argued for some time that P for Pearl would make more sense until he confessed that he is a helpless romantic.
After another couple of hours, Marcel turns my chair around. "It was really hard to make those pitiful tits C cups but I did it. I'm just going to call you AA now," Marcel laughs. "Your hair was nasty, you hadn't shaved in like a billion years, you had lots of acne on your back, and your eyebrows were just too ratchet. But.... all better!" Marcel claps.
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my breasts.
"Your ass is fabulous though." He smiles, tilting my chin.
"Let's go get that new identity."
*
My father looks me over. "Good, you look completely different."
The door swings open and I'm hit with a cloud of cologne. Holy. Shit.
Kingston walks in with tattoos snaking up his tan arms. His hair is cut much shorter and he sports a pair of intricate Oxfords, dress pants, a dress shirt rolled at the elbows, and a bow tie. He gives a seductive wink, pressing a set of glasses up his nose to enhance his new, blue eyes.
As my father talks with Jeff, our manager, over the new identities and our transport routes, Kingston takes a seat next to me. "Wet yet?" He smirks, setting a hand on my thigh.
"Yeah," I laugh, "Mainly because you spilt water all over my foot."
Kingston looks down quickly, blushing as he picks up his waterbottle. "Forgot that was there...."
"Where are you from? Your accent suggests Wolverhampton." I inquire.
He nods, "Very intuitive of you, Evangeline."
I shrug, "That's what we're trained for."
My father walks over quickly. "We need to get on the move, study these on your way over to transport. Your bags are packed and your weapons are stored." The Captain hands us our porfolios.
*
I'm able to give a final goodbye to Kit, Benedict, and Barbara before being ushered into a blackened car with Kingston.
"My name is Killian Jones," Kingston smiles, "It's nice to meet you-"
"Scarlett Prince," I smile.
"Lovely," Kingston purrs, kissing the top of my hand.
