Sirenz (7 page)

“We're both seniors on scholarship at the Academically Independent High School, and I've been accepted to FIT and Meg to NYU,” I blurted. Meg nodded and grinned at Jeremy.

He smiled back.

No fair!

“And they love to fight over shoes. I'll clear it with Mr. Romanov myself,” Jeremy said. Demi huffed and gave us both a look that promised retribution, while Meg blushed. When Meg turned her head and our eyes locked, it was clear.
We both want him.
It's going to be war.

War it would be. And may the better-looking, better-dressed, nicer girl—namely, me—win.

Bad Kitty

I
'd always pictured my first real job as championing some underdog, not-for-profit charity project, or maybe interning at a record label—not this.

Not wanting to waste any time, Shar insisted we call our parents and tell them we'd be spending the rest of our winter break with the other one's family. This way, she reasoned, we'd be close to Arkady, the job, and the portals with as few distractions as possible. Even as task-oriented as Shar was, I knew she had ulterior motives. Not only was being at the center of a fashion three-ring circus a dream come true for her, but there were the countless potential opportunities she'd get to corner and—drat her—
talk
to Jeremy.

“We need to get to work early,” she bubbled. “Show some initiative. We'll win that Demi woman over. And we need to get close to Arkady. It would be better to see him without his hat and glasses just so we're sure when we voodoo him. We should plan on staying there late.”

I didn't want to stay at the House of Romanov a minute longer than I had to, but Shar had a point. Demi clearly didn't like us, but she was only a receptionist, or at best some sort of office manager. Still, the last thing we needed was anyone blocking access to Arkady. I dreaded seeing Demi, but at least I knew I could speak to her without sprouting more feathers. I would, however, have to control myself, especially around Jeremy.

It was barely light when we left the apartment the next day; I wasn't on the street this early for school.

“It's not seven yet,” I said, pulling out my pocket watch. “Will the building even be open?”

“Relax,” Shar said smoothly. It was overcast, but she wore pitch-black sunglasses to make sure no one could see her eyes. “There's always twenty-four-seven security in big buildings like that. If we're lucky, we'll be the first ones in the office and we can poke around. Maybe we can even see what House of Romanov has planned for their fall collections. I read that they made some deals with a few different celebrities to—”

I stopped walking. “So
that's
what this is about? You want to get a leg up on the latest trends so you're dragging us to the House of Decadence extra early to spy them out? Fantastic, Shar. Do you realize that by the end of the day I could sport a tail peacocks would envy? And let's say I keep mum—how am I supposed to impress anyone, much less do a job?”

Halting, Shar spun around, looking at me as if she was doing me a favor by answering me. “You didn't need to talk too much yesterday and you made a good impression. Especially on Jeremy. You're clever. You'll adapt.”

“I said my name—not too impressive. Now he probably thinks I have the mental capacity of an egg timer.”

I'd resigned myself to the fact that I had no chance with Jeremy whatsoever. Even though Hades said I
could
talk to guys without enchanting them, I still had doubts. Before bed, I'd spent an hour scrolling through the various apps on the iPhone. Some were ridiculous and absolutely useless:
Ancient Greek Pronunciation Guide
and
Are You Epicurious (food of the gods)
and
Odyssey Underworld Tours
. But what Hades told us was all there, word for word, in an app called
Sirenz—A Beginner's Guide
, which said:
“Your looks and voice obey your intent. If you desire it, the Siren call will beckon
.”

I didn't trust myself not to use the power by accident. Not that I would outright order Jeremy to like me; it was the intent of my feelings that might be dangerous. I just didn't know, and I didn't want to take the risk. Shar had to know I was at a disadvantage, and I'm sure she didn't mind that one bit. I crossed my arms against my chest and glowered at her.

She flashed her palm at my face. “Think what you want about my motives. At least
I
came up with a plan: get in early before there are too many people asking questions, and scope the place out. What have you done?”

I brightened a bit and held up my bag, which I'd made from recycling an old pair of jeans.

“You brought your purse. Bravo, Meg.”

“Look past the purse.” I picked up the metallic black cat fastened to one of the handles and shook it at her. The little bell inside it jingled.

“Okay.” She looked at me like I was completely insane. “You have your purse, and you have a cat bell. Very smart, Meg. You're totally prepared to face the day.”

“It's an ancient Japanese talisman for good fortune,” I snapped, pushing the bag into her hands. She held the cat close to her face so she could see through her dark glasses.

“You're supposed to be smart, and you believe in this kooky stuff? And aren't black cats bad luck?” Shar flicked an annoyed glance at me. “Well, I think going into the office early will probably help us a little more than kitty cat here, even if it is cute.” She pulled a lipstick from her purse and touched up perfect lips.

“Black is protective. I got one for you too.”

Her head jerked up as she returned the tube to her bag. “Huh?”

I dug in my purse and pulled out a crumpled paper bag and handed it to her.

“It's pink!” she squealed when she pulled out an identical cat with paws upraised.

“Indeed it is.”

“Where did you—”

“—the counter at Burger World when I paid the bill.”

“Adorable!” Shar grinned, and wrinkled her nose in delight.

“It matches your outfit, too,” I chirped, looking her up and down; she was a walking rose, dressed head to foot in pink.

“You're right,” she laughed, and fastened the kitty to the strap of her bag. “Let's hope these bring good luck—we need it!”

Shar gave the security guard our names, and he let us up.

The sleek glass doors to the reception area were unlocked, so in we went and stood listening, but it was silent. I took a minute to survey our surroundings; a semi-circle of leather chairs bordered a glass table piled with slick magazines. It was almost like our latte-esque living room—beige and chrome, and more beige and chrome. I wondered if Hades had decorated this place too.

“Perfect!” Shar whispered. She pushed her glasses onto her forehead, her hazel eyes glowing with excitement. “Let's have a look around, and—”

She was interrupted by footfalls in the adjacent hallway; we weren't the only early risers. If it was Demi, then she'd have to acknowledge that we were eager to please, and maybe that would get us a gold star. Hastily, Shar plunked the sunglasses back down over her nose.

A door opened, and out stepped Jeremy. I caught my breath. His hair was loose and hung over his cheek, brushing his chin and the collar of his slightly rumpled shirt.

He halted at the sight of us. “You two here already?”

Shar beamed. “Yes sir, bright and early and ready to work.”

He looked at his watch, then pulled a band out of a pocket to tie his hair back. “Okay. Actually, this works out great because things will start to get busy fast around here once people start coming in, and that'll be in about ten minutes. I'll show you around.”

He winked at me as he opened the door. The other side of the reception area was a different world. It was like stepping into Oz—there was no taupe or tan anywhere. Our feet bounced on a plush royal purple carpet as we walked, and I could see a distorted shadow of myself in the silvery foil pattern of the wallpaper. Every few yards, a glass case stood sentinel against the wall. Inside each one was a Faberg
é
egg.

“They're fakes,” Jeremy whispered. “He keeps the real ones locked up somewhere. Hey, I have one of those!” He touched the cat hanging from my purse. “I'm always looking for good luck.” He started down the main hallway.

I nodded and smiled vindictively at Shar, who scowled angrily while I tried not to gloat.

Jeremy walked briskly, speaking rapidly as if there wasn't enough time to tell us everything we had to know.

“It's a real hive in here. Mr. Romanov is already in his office and he's booked with appointments until eight or nine p.m., long after you're gone.”

Shar piped up. “We want to be as helpful as we can. If you need us to stay late, we're good with that. Anything we can do for Ark—I mean, Mr. Romanov, we're there.” Then she tripped over a lump in the fluffy rug and stumbled into the wall. We all stopped.

Jeremy looked back and frowned. “Are you okay? Don't you want to take your glasses off?”

Shar looked panicked. She didn't take off her shades—she didn't dare—and she didn't offer an explanation.

“Lasik,” I blurted, before I could stop myself. For a few horrible seconds, I mentally searched my body, waiting to feel something sprout or puff … but nothing. Then I calmed down, remembering what Hades had said. I hadn't given any suggestions or orders, nor wanted to. I'd just offered an explanation. Perhaps this wasn't going to be mission impossible, just mission very, very, very careful. “Shar had Lasik surgery,” I repeated, in as low and monotone a voice as I could.

“Oh,” he began. I couldn't tell whether he accepted it or not, but thankfully, Shar joined in.

“Yeah, no more contacts for me. But I have to wear these for a while—inside and out.” She tapped her glasses.

“Just take it slow then, okay? Mr. Romanov doesn't like to deal with workmen's comp.” He patted her on the shoulder and I couldn't help but notice that his hand didn't linger there. We continued our tour of the office.

“Here's the Yellow Salon, the Purple Salon, the fitting rooms, and the Gold Salon. Admin is on the other side—Reynaldo, the Collection Coordinator, is there, and so is Callie, our IT person. Mr. Romanov's office is down the hall to the end, behind the huge double doors. I don't know if you'll actually be able to meet him, not many of the staff have. He's a very private person, and extremely busy.”

Was this another of Hades' ironic manipulations? We'd be in the same building, on the same floor, and probably within feet of Arkady Romanov, but we'd never get close enough to him to get him to a portal. The nearest one was four blocks away at the city morgue, and I doubted we'd be able to convince him to go there without morphing ourselves into poultry. I nudged Shar hard in the ribs, and she looked at me and glared angrily. She had to be thinking the same thing as I was; that we should just toddle on down to the morgue, open a fridge door, and go to Tartarus ourselves. How could we ever do this assignment?

“Anyway,” Jeremy continued, “you'll be playing a very important role. With our New Year's Eve showing, it's hectic. If someone needs something around here, you two are the ones to take care of it. If they need coffee, office supplies, TP, anything, you get it.” He stopped and looked from Shar to me. “Do you understand?”

I tried to crack a smile and forced myself to nod.

“Totally.” Shar answered. “We're here to pamper and please.”

“That's what I like to hear. Now, the pay isn't exactly the greatest …”

Jeremy kept talking and walking, but I didn't want to hear any more about our duties. There had to be some redeeming qualities to this place—other than his perfect face.

From where we were standing, I heard someone come in, then the barking of several dogs.

Jeremy raised his eyebrows and put a hand on each of our shoulders. “Here we go!” He ran his hand lightly down my arm and I felt my face get hot. Redeeming quality found—physical contact!

We returned to the lobby area to find Demi, the amazon receptionist who'd almost made toast out of us on our last visit, dressed down in jeans and a brilliant spring-green sweater. She had a voluminous, daffodil-yellow shawl draped across her broad shoulders, and she was holding leashes attached to three super-sized dogs. The largest one looked a little too much like a wolf. They sat calmly at her side panting happily as she bent over the only desk in the area and sorted through a stack of papers.

“Demi!” Jeremy called.

She turned around and smiled coyly at us. “I see our interns are here.” She checked her watch. “And early.”

“Told you they'd work out.” Jeremy grinned. “I'll leave them in your capable hands. I'm sure you have some things they can start with? Or ask Callie or Reynaldo if they need help with anything.”

Demi reached down and patted the top of the wolf's head. “Oh, most definitely.”

Jeremy turned and left, and the three of us stood there staring at each other. One of the dogs growled.

“So,” Shar began, breaking the silence. I didn't like the way Demi was checking us out. “Um, you, uh, do a lot of … different things around here.”

“Really, Sharisse, you're more dense than a petrified tree. Take those ridiculous things off. Lasik surgery indee
d.”

Wait—
how did she know about our little lie?