A Heaven for Toasters

CHAPTER 3: Exhibition

12:02 p.m.

"A little trick of mine," a woman's nasally voice said next to my ear.

My fighting instinct kicked into full gear. Thankfully, a hand squeezed my shoulder, preventing me from spinning around and kicking the daylight out of my perceived assailant.

A second later my lenses cleared up. The infernal shriek stopped. I was able to see and hear again. Expecting to see Richard's hand on my shoulder, I was surprised to see Leo standing behind me instead. He wore a concerned expression. I nodded to show him I was all right and he let his hand discreetly slip away.

"If you hadn't been wearing hololenses, you wouldn't have been blinded at all," the unknown woman continued. "Technology, normally our friend, can also blind us. Literally, sometimes."

I turned to face her, mentally preparing a stern warning against this kind of prank, but Richard pushed me aside to stare at the woman.

"Oh my gosh, it's really you," he gushed. He turned to me, his face beaming. "This is her. Xhristina herself!"

"In the flesh," Xhristina said. She raised her head and opened her arms, like an empress ready to be worshipped.

"I'm so honored to meet you," Richard said, continuing to fawn over her.

I ground my teeth as I studied the so-called artist. I had to grudgingly admit she was stunning, her tall body perfect in every way. Her slender fingers played with a loose strand of her silky ebony-black hair that cascaded down her shoulders. I scrunched my nose with disdain. Her smooth features made for an exotic combination, sure to be irresistible to men. No wonder so many art critics loved her.

My gaze caught on her slit eyes studying me back, probably while she was waiting for her purple hololenses to report on our identity. The eyes are the window to the soul, they say, and I was used to seeing all sorts of emotions behind them. Greed, love, desire, passion, anger, sadness, despair. You name it, I'd seen it. People said I was a good interrogator. Part of the reason was my ability to read people's eyes.

Not in Xhristina's case, though. Her eyes were less emotional than Leo's. Even underneath the purple lenses, I thought I caught a silent challenge for a split second. It was gone before I could even blink, her eyes returning to their purple vacuum.

"Mikaela Pensive," Xhristina said, her eyes narrowing even farther. "Detective, First—"

"I know my bio," I cut her off. "And my friends call me Mika. So, it's Detective Pensive to you. Or Miss Pensive."

Her mouth twitched upward in an ironic smirk. "Your father was in the army. In fact, most of your family was. Why did you become a cop, Miss Pensive?"

Because I've seen first-hand what war does to a man. Because I didn't want to become like that.

I opened my mouth to reply it was none of her business, when my hololens thought it helpful to pop a short text explaining the origins of the word, "cop." Something to do with British policemen and their copper buttons, apparently. I jerked my head to dismiss the notification. Sometimes, they were lifesavers; more often, just an irritation.

While I was waging my small war against intrusive technology, Xhristina had grown tired of waiting for a response. She spun around. "Follow me," she ordered, not bothering to look back.

Richard grabbed my arm and pulled me behind Xhristina. I half-expected him to take off his boxer shorts and throw them at her. My lips cracked a smile at the mental image.

Leo locked his hands behind his back, making him look like an inspector from one of Richard's movies. "An unusual woman."

"Thank you, oh master of the obvious," I murmured.