Mortal Danger

SO SVENGALI

The morning I left, my parents tried to see me off. Dad smiled at me, obviously pleased with what he was about to suggest. “We’ll go together on the train, have breakfast at the airport, and then we’ll say good-bye at security.”

Damn. This was a problem I hadn’t predicted. “That’ll take an hour each way. Don’t you guys have to prepare your papers for presentation, pack, and whatever else?”

My mom frowned. “It seems wrong to pat your head and say ‘good luck.’ What if you run into trouble on the way?”

Seriously?

“I’ll be fine, two trains and a shuttle bus.” Fortunately, I looked up the route as part of my cover story. “And I don’t have much to carry.”

They both frowned at me, the long pause making me fear that the situation might become untenable. Kian would likely not be amused if I lost half the morning going to the airport and eating breakfast. Once they left, I could probably call him and ask him to meet me there, but what if they wanted to watch me walk through security? I started to sweat.

“Seriously, it’s fine,” I murmured. “I need to be independent, right?”

Eventually Dad sighed. “If you’re sure. This feels like it’s happening too soon.”

“Be careful.” That came from Mom, along with a recitation of things to look out for. “And text us when you get there safely. Remember, we’ll be traveling this summer, but we’ll have our cell phones if you need anything.”

“Will do … and I won’t forget. Have a productive summer.”

They both gave me stiff, awkward hugs that were more like thumps on the back, then Dad pressed some cash into my hands and they let me go. As I stepped onto the street, my phone buzzed. After skimming the text message, I walked two blocks as requested, and Kian met me on the corner.

“You didn’t have any trouble?” he asked.

“Not much. I know how to manage my parents.”

Barely.

“Good. This way.” He stepped off the main walk into an alley, just a narrow gap between two brick buildings. At the end, there was a green Dumpster and some cardboard boxes. If it wasn’t a bright, sunny morning, I’d be seriously freaked out and reconsidering my decision. A little voice whispered that none of this was real anyway, so I might as well enjoy the adventure, one of those super vivid dreams that amazed you when you finally awakened.

“Let’s get out of sight.” The heat of his fingers tangling with mine stole my voice.

I clung, hoping Kian took it for fear or anticipation. I’d die if he knew I just liked holding his hand.

He didn’t speak, but once we rounded the Dumpster, he ported us. I expected to land on the campus, but the world came back into focus inside a small, stylish cabin. If Architectural Digest ever sponsored a wilderness retreat, I suspect it would look like this. From the view out of the window, it was built on top of a mountain with a river rushing nearby, different from the precipice he’d taken me to first.

“Where are we?” I yanked my hand free and stumbled back a step.

“Relax. I need a quiet place to work on you. As soon as you’re satisfied, we’ll continue to the university.”

“Right.” He couldn’t change my face in a diner, even if it was company-owned. Whatever that meant. “But seriously, where are we?”

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, sheepish. “My place in Colorado. Perk of the job. I can live wherever I want, even if I’m working in Boston.”

“Don’t you have an office?” I joked.

“I do, but…” He trailed off, regarding me intently.

Secretly I was glad he’d brought me home with him. A cubicle with fluorescent lights would quell my delusions that this could be more than business for him. So this must be standard procedure, and I shouldn’t get my hopes up. I would have loved to poke into the nooks and crannies of the immaculate rooms in hope of uncovering his secrets, but that would be rude, and he had a job to do.

He canted his head toward the couch, pulling on a pair of odd, sleek gloves with textured pads on each fingertip. “Make yourself comfortable. This might take a while.”

Yeah, he had a lot to fix. I hunched my shoulders in misery as I trudged over to the sofa. He sat down right next to me, his expression softening. God, yuck, I didn’t want him feeling sorry for me, even if he did know how I felt.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. And I meant it when I said you have a nice smile. More important, you’re a good person. I’m just going to make the outside line up with what you have going on up here.” He touched my neck, and soothing heat flooded through me.

Immediately, I felt calmer—and suspicious of that shift. “What did you do?”

“I used an electrical impulse to stimulate your hypothalamus, but I can’t make the kind of changes you’re asking for without a little pain. It’ll go smoother if you’re not already vibrating with tension.”

“How much pain are we talking about?” I pushed out a slow breath, bracing. “And why can’t you make it painless? Or knock me out?”

“Normally, a sedative would be administered, but I’m not an anesthesiologist. This procedure is low risk, but administering medication—well, I’m not doing that. You could be allergic, or it might not work on you the way it’s supposed to.”

When he put it that way, I saw his point. This was close enough to plastic surgery without a license for me to get scared. I breathed deep, wondering if I should back up. But it was too late; the hash mark had already formed atop my infinity symbol. In this deal, there were no do-overs or takebacks.

“I can handle it.”

“Let’s focus on what you want. How would you like to look?”

“You can make me resemble someone else?”

“Sure. But it’s best if I optimize you. People tend to assume minor cosmetic procedures over the summer, weight loss, gym membership. They’ll fill in the blanks as long as you don’t have a whole new face.”

“Then I’d love to be the best possible version of me.”

“Okay, let’s start with your eyes. I can change the color or brighten them, as well as correct your vision.”

“And people will think I got contacts or Lasik surgery.”

“Pretty much.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the color, is there?” It wasn’t like I spent any time staring at my own irises.

“No, they’re pretty, like the sun through topaz. You just can’t see them too well with your glasses on.”

Heat washed my cheeks. “You don’t have to say stuff like that.”

“You think you’re a troll, because the people at school made you feel that way, but you have good raw material. You’ll be a knockout when we’re finished—and without as much structural redesign as you think.”

“Then just do it.”

He arched a brow. “You don’t want to direct me?”

My shoulders squared, and I sucked in a sharp breath, trying to steady my nerves. Though I half suspected I was dreaming, it was terrifying to consider how much power I was giving him. “You’re the expert. Just go for the best version of me. I trust you.”

Sweetness and surprise flashed in his face. “People don’t, usually. I’m just a means to an end.”

“The genie in the bottle?”

He touched my cheek so lightly, as if it were eggshell porcelain. “Something like that.”

“Let’s get going,” I said, dropping my eyes.

“One final question … what’s your ideal body type?”

I’d never thought about it, mostly because I preferred to believe it didn’t matter what I looked like, at least it wouldn’t with people who cared about me. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, right? So all my life, I had been holding out for the day somebody thought I was fine the way I was, but now I was sacrificing that potential for the sake of my plan. My stomach twisted with nerves.

“Slim hourglass, I guess. I always envied girls who look gorgeous in anything.”

With great tenderness, he set gloved hands on my face. The heat quickly built to unbearable levels, and soon I was choking back my screams. As he’d hinted, it was like surgery without anesthetic. Tears streamed from my eyes as he stroked shaping fingers down my cheekbones, along my jaw, over my lips and brow. When his thumbs smoothed across my lids, my vision winked out and I followed.

Much later, I awoke … and my clothes didn’t fit. My muscles burned with a low-grade heat, as if I had been training for a marathon. I lifted a slender, toned arm and marveled at it. Which was when I noticed I didn’t have on my glasses. And the world was crystal clear.

“Kian?”

I heard his footsteps on the stairs before I saw him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Not bad, considering. Is there a bathroom where I can—”

“Over here.” He bounded with an odd, nervous energy that I couldn’t interpret, until I realized he was nervous. He wanted me to approve of his work. “I left some things for you on the top of the hamper.”

Keeping my pants up required one hand pinching in the waist. I minced toward the bathroom and shut the door with a quiet terror that I was crazy. Or dreaming. You’re not. You were chosen. With glowing exultation, I turned to the mirror to meet the new me.

My mouth dropped open.

I did not know the girl in the mirror. I mean, she had a few things in common with the person I had been, but it was like someone had removed most of my imperfections in Photoshop. With shaking fingers, I touched my cheekbones. So many minute changes and refinements. The best plastic surgeons couldn’t have done what Kian had with his fingertips. From my small, straight nose to my slightly fuller mouth to the piquant point of my chin, I was the best possible version of myself.

He hadn’t stopped at my face. Delicate color flared as I stared, imagining him shaping my body like modeling clay. He’d had no choice but to go all the way to third base to do the job right, and it figured I hadn’t been awake. It’s just work for him, I told myself. Get over it. My hair was still long, but the mousy brown had gone. Instead, it held a coppery tinge with streaks of gold and red, giving it a gorgeous luster. I shook my head experimentally and it bounced away from my throat in what seemed like a flirty move. Not that I had any moves.

I needed some.

Kian knocked on the bathroom door, sounding anxious. “You okay? If you don’t like how you look, I can tweak. It’ll hurt, of course, but—”

“Relax,” I said. “You give good makeover.”

“Thanks.”

“Let me get dressed, okay?”

“Sure.” His steps moved away.

I went to the neat pile of clothes on top of the tan wicker hamper. When I found underwear and bras at the bottom, I almost died of embarrassment. They were the cute kind like I’d never worn. I chose a pair of white, pink, and black–striped boyshorts along with the matching bra, then shimmied into my new undies. I had no idea how I would face Kian, knowing he’d bought me underwear, but what the hell, he was so totally my Svengali, that maybe it didn’t matter. We were beyond all that. I heard him moving around, pacing it sounded like.

Wow, he’s really tense.

I faced my reflection. From the graceful curve of my shoulders to the flat, toned stomach, the mirror showed me a body I didn’t recognize and the change was startling, frightening even. Normal weight loss would’ve given me a chance to get used to being lighter by increments, but I had to get accustomed to all at once. It would take me a while to assimilate my new shape. By societal standards, I definitely qualified as pretty, but it felt like I was looking at a stranger, one whose body I had snatched. Deliberately I turned away. There were a couple of pairs of jeans, one plain, the other spangled with rips and faded spots. Though I’d never worn anything so stylish, I pulled them out of the pile and checked the size.

“Right.” I huffed out a skeptical sigh.

Still, my old pants didn’t fit, so why not try? I eased them up over my hips, thighs, and then buttoned them. They fit skinny, but they fit. No way. Euphoria sparkled through me, a low-grade fizz in my veins as I rummaged through the tops. I chose a black baby-doll T-shirt with white Japanese characters and a pink dot in the middle of the design. This time I didn’t check the size before I pulled it on. Shifting, I assessed myself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

Incredible.

Taking a deep breath, I popped the door open before I could lose my nerve. Kian stopped, arrested in his progress across the front room. His gaze swept me from head to toe, and then he offered an approving nod.

“Obviously I think you look amazing or I would’ve kept working. But it’s more important what you think.”

“Perfect. I wouldn’t have been able to say, this is what I want, but you knew.”

“I’m good at seeing the potential,” he said quietly. “You have any pain?”

“A little. Nothing dramatic.”

“There may be a little blood, nothing to worry about. It’s a result of the internal shifting I had to do.”

I froze. “Blood? Like … where?”

“I had some when I brushed my teeth afterward, sometimes. And … in the bathroom. You know.”

The toilet? Oh my God. My parents would rush me to the hospital. “You swear it’s not indicative of hemorrhaging or something?”

“No, it’s definitely not. It’s just a reaction to the procedure. It’ll ease back as your body adapts to the transformation.”

“Okay. You haven’t lied to me so far, though ‘some pain’ was a massive understatement. It felt like my whole face was on fire.”

“Worth it, though, right?”

I smoothed my hands down my sides and thrilled at the way his green gaze followed the movement. “Definitely.”

“I’m glad you passed out. It’s pretty awful for people with a higher pain tolerance. They scream the whole time.”

“Which is why you bring them out here to the middle of nowhere.”

To my surprise, Kian shook his head. “I never bring clients here, Edie. There’s a soundproof room at headquarters set aside for this kind of thing.”

“But … I’m here.”

He ducked his head. The copper strands in his hair shone against the black, giving him a burnished look in the morning light. His thick tangle of lashes hid his devastating green eyes, but it was easier for me to ignore his beauty, knowing he’d broken the rules for me. I could look at him and see him. From certain angles, I could almost imagine what he’d looked like before someone set burning fingertips to his face and cut away the flaws. That mental image made him seem much more human, less the divine being who’d plucked me off the bridge. I preferred seeing him as a person, not a god.

His silence wasn’t an answer. “Kian. If this isn’t protocol, why am I here?”

“I was afraid the people at headquarters would freak you out.” By the way his eyes shifted away from mine, that wasn’t the whole truth.

“Bullshit.”

This time, he met my stare head on. “I wanted more time with you.”

“Is that allowed?”

“Not really.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Just forget it, okay? And before you ask, no, I didn’t do anything weird to your unconscious body.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that.” I’d be sore in different places if he had, and while my muscles burned, there was no pain down below.

“So let’s get going.”

“Wait.” I moved toward him and put a hand on his arm. “Do you mean you like me? In a normal way. Nothing to do with deals or bargains or favors?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. There are rules.”

“The answer matters to me.”

“For all the good it does either of us, yes, I do. I did before.” Bitterness colored his voice, his expression, and I didn’t understand why. He’d wished for the same thing. Why did he seem to mind changing me for the better?

“Nobody liked me before,” I said. “So thank you.”

He ignored my gratitude. Maybe I wouldn’t want it, either. I tried to put myself in his shoes. How would I feel about the people I met, who were so broken they had been ready to die when I stepped in? It wouldn’t be wise to get attached to somebody like that, I thought. Even worse, when you were that somebody. No wonder he’s pulling back, minimizing the mistake of showing this much favoritism. Whatever his motive, I appreciated that he hadn’t brought me to headquarters. Intuition told me I wasn’t ready to be thrown into the deep end, especially since I wasn’t a very good swimmer.

I got out my cell phone, checked the time, compared it with the East Coast, and decided it had been long enough to seem credible that my plane had landed. I texted, Safe and sound on the ground. Thanks for letting me do this.

My mom replied, We’re proud of you. Have fun, Edith.

In silence, Kian emptied my backpack and filled it with the things he’d gotten. “There’s a gift card in the front zip compartment. You’ll have time to buy more clothes before classes start in the morning.”

“Oh.” I tried not to sound disappointed. “You said we’d go, before.”

“Yeah, about that. It’s not a good idea. You don’t need me with you.”

But I want you there. I didn’t say it aloud. Ever fiber of me knew it was a bad idea to get attached to him. He was like a caseworker, almost.

“All right, thanks. I’ll register, drop my bag off at the dorm, and go shopping, I guess.” I couldn’t believe I’d just spoken those words voluntarily.

“You ready?” A figurative shutter came down in his expression; he was ready to get on with his work.

“Yep.”

There was nothing personal about his hand on mine, just a link required to port me on to the last leg in our journey. We emerged in a quiet corner of what must be the quad. A tangle of branches veiled the grass in filtered green light. Kian let go of me and pushed clear from the foliage.

He pointed, his tone all efficiency. “Registration is in that building. Head over and they can take it from here.”

“Can I call if I need you?”

“Of course,” he said gently. “But you won’t. You need to get used to your new look and develop the confidence to demolish the assholes at Blackbriar, come fall.”

I took his point. If I called him constantly, that wasn’t self-assurance; psychology books would call it codependence. To hide my nervousness, I joked, “It’s also to keep my parents from having a heart attack. I hope the summer’s long enough for them to believe—”

“Don’t worry.” He softened a little. “Parents always want to believe their kids are beautiful. It won’t seem like a stretch when the time comes, I promise.”

“Then I guess that’s it.”

“Yeah. I won’t contact you until the summer program ends.”

“You better come then.” I tried for a playful tone. “You’re my ride home.”

“I’ll never let you down when you need me, Edie.” His tone seemed so somber for a sunny summer day, as if he saw dark things in the distance and me in the center of them.

“Then there’s one more thing before you go.” I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but the words wouldn’t stop. They came from a place of complete certainty.

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

I didn’t give a shit about rules. A girl only got one first, and I suspected it wouldn’t take me long to find somebody who wanted to be the one. But I deserved more than that for my first kiss. It had to be Kian—who said he liked me before—even though he wasn’t allowed to. I was willing to accept that it couldn’t go past this point.

“That’s a really bad idea,” he whispered.

“If you don’t want to…”

In answer, he stepped closer so I could smell his soap, just touch of citrus, and the warm, sunshiny scent of his skin. He dizzied me. Kian tangled his fingers in my hair and drew me to him with just enough hesitation to make me think he was nervous. That helped on my end, though I still couldn’t breathe right. His other hand rested on my hip. I didn’t know where to put my arms, if I should press close, stand super still, or—Oh God. It’s a good thing I asked him to do this.

I’d make a fool of myself with anyone else.

“Eyes shut,” he breathed in my ear.

I closed them and turned my face up. A trill of pleasure radiated wherever he touched me. Then Kian brushed his lips against mine, and the world stopped.

For this moment, I only knew his heat, his heartbeat. His mouth tasted sweet and lush, like chai tea and cinnamon, and I rose up against him on my tiptoes to sink my hands into his layered hair. This wasn’t a perfunctory kiss—no, it was so much more. He caught me against him, and I lost track everything but Kian. His hands burned through the thin cotton of my tee, roaming my back. For someone who had never been kissed, this was like learning to swim by being thrown off a boat into the ocean.

I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. His nearness reacted on me like a drug, and I clung, wanting only more. Forever, more. Eventually, I registered the hooting behind us in the quad. Fierce heat flashed into my cheeks as I pulled back.

“Something to remember me by.” His tone carried a low and lovely ache, as if those moments meant something to him, as if he worried about me forgetting him.

Like that could ever happen.

“I’ll see you in six weeks.”

“Okay. What time?”

“Let’s say eight, West Coast time.”

I nodded. “Thanks for everything.”

His jade gaze swept me from head to toe, as if committing me to memory. Then he stepped back. The leafy foliage hid his vanishing act, but the air crackled after he went, like charged wind after a storm.

I ached for him already.