PHENOMENAL GIRL 5 Page 2

  God, I was done for.

  “Robert, this is your new partner, Phenomenal Girl Five,” Rath said, since I was too busy staring to speak.

  I got a hold of myself, offered a hand, willing it not to tremble. “It’s an honor to meet you, Reincarnist.”

  His large hand swallowed mine up in a warm handshake that was all man, but not so much so that he was crushing my fingers. “Why is your alias Phenomenal Girl Five?”

  His directness flustered me. Well, he flustered me altogether. “Th-there were four Phenomenal Girls before me. They’ve all either been killed or retired, and I had powers similar to theirs, so…”

  He nodded, looking distracted again. “I do not use an alias. You may call me by my last name, Elliot, unless I say otherwise. Do you understand?”

  Taken aback by the apparent cooling of his welcome, I stuttered, “S-sure.”

  “Excellent. And what is your real name?”

  “Lainey.”

  “Lainey what?” He sounded as if he were losing patience with me already.

  “Lainey Livingston.”

  “Well, Miss Livingston, we shall get to work straightaway. Ben, I have a break in the Donner kidnapping.” He motioned for Rath to follow him to the monitors. I stood there, uncertain whether I was supposed to go with them or stay put. I felt very awkward.

  “I analyzed the dirt scraped from the child’s shoe,” the Reincarnist was saying. “There is coffee present.” He leaned over the computer keyboard and typed a few things. A chemical equation appeared on one of the small screens, and a large map of the city on the large screen. “There used to be a coffee factory at this location.” A red dot appeared on the map. “The authorities will need to sweep that area.”

  Rath nodded. “I’ll let them know, but you may be needed as well.”

  The Reincarnist shrugged and went back to studying the monitor.

  Rath turned his attention on me. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Good luck, Miss Livingston. Robert will be informing me of your progress. I’ll be in touch. Robert, the Hands miss you at meetings.”

  “They will continue to do so,” the Reincarnist replied absently, tapping at the keyboard and mumbling to himself. “No fingerprints shown, but a detection spell…”

  Rath shook his head. “See if you can get him to emerge from his cave occasionally, Miss Livingston. Other than to patrol or walk crime scenes, I mean.” He clapped Elliot on the back, forcing his attention away from his computer. “How you keep up the playboy persona is a mystery to me.”

  “I throw lavish parties, I say hello, and I leave. Mayhew or my current partner takes care of the guests.” He glanced over, his gaze as effective as any stasis beam as it ran up and down every inch of my body, appraising me. My throat went dry as other parts of me did the opposite. “She will do in that respect.”

  “Keep me on the guest list.”

  “Of course. It was good seeing you, Ben.”

  “You too, Robert.” Rath nodded to me. “Let me know if you don’t receive all of your things.” And with that, he disappeared down the hall toward the stairs we’d come down not so long ago.

  Leaving me alone with the Reincarnist, whom I was supposed to call Elliot. I was having lustful thoughts about someone I wasn’t even allowed to call by his first name.

  The only sounds were the classical music, the clack of the keyboard, and the scribble of pen on paper. Feeling awkward, I looked around, wondering what I was supposed to be doing. I don’t think mentally drooling over my new boss was part of the job description.

  He finally glanced up at me, startled, as if he had forgotten I was there. “Miss…Livingston. What exactly is it you do again?”

  “E-excuse me?” Was he angry I was just standing there? I had no idea what my job as his partner would entail. At least his noticeable irritation with me was cooling off my crush.

  “Your talents. Your powers.” There was that annoyed look again.

  “Oh!” My face flushed with embarrassment. “Flight. Super strength.”

  He frowned. “We will have to make do.”

  “What’s wrong with my powers?” I blurted, my own annoyance coming out.

  He stared at me, as if amazed that I didn’t know. He held my gaze long enough to make me uncomfortable, then cleared his throat and said, “Well, nothing is wrong with them per se, but they are powers based on brawn, not brains. Training with me will be good for you. I will teach you to use your intellect, but I am afraid you will not be much help to me.”

  Now it was my turn to stare at him. “Did you just call me stupid?” That pretty much doused the last of any lustful feelings I’d been having. Why did I have to go and be partnered up with a sexist pig?

  “I do not mean to offend, Miss Livingston…”

  “Because I graduated at the top of my class from the best law school in the country,” I interrupted, steamed. Here it was again, the same prejudice I got from every man I met. “Don’t let the blonde hair and the big boobs fool you. There is a brain in my head, one that I use on a regular basis, and not for figuring out what lingerie makes for the best costume.”

  Now he was staring at me as if I was crazy. The crazy man doubted my sanity. Wonderful.

  “I know about your academic accolades, Miss Livingston. I checked your background before you came here. I only meant that mental powers, such as telepathy, for example, might be better suited for a partner of mine. I did not mean to imply that you were stupid.”

  “Oh.” Maybe he hadn’t, and I had just jumped to that conclusion. “Well, the next time you fight Jihad, maybe you’ll think differently when I lay him out flat with one punch.”

  A slight smile crossed his face at the mental image of a punched-out archnemesis. “Yes, well, the trick is to find him first. Which is what we will attempt to do, when we are not patrolling or doing investigative work for the Elite Hands of Justice and the police. Now, I have more work to accomplish, so I will have Mayhew show you to your room. Take some time to settle in, and I will see you at dinner. We dress for dinner at this house. I assume you have the proper attire?” He pressed a button on his desk.

  My business suit was out of the question. “Well, I…”

  “If not, tell Mayhew, and he will order something appropriate. We will be doing some entertaining from time to time.” He frowned. “It is a necessity, I am afraid, for a man of my stature. Dinner is seven o’clock sharp, in the dining room. Afterward, we will go on patrol.”

  I nodded. “Alright. Seven it is. It’s a date.”

  He looked alarmed, and then cleared his throat. “You may go.”

  Gee, may I? “Um, good luck on the coffee grounds and all that.”

  Paging through his notes, he nodded, but it was obvious that he had forgotten about me already.

  I turned to leave and almost bumped into the butler. Freaky. Where had he come from?

  Unmoved by my surprise, Mayhew gestured toward the passage leading to the stairs. “This way, Miss.”

  We passed through the hallway, and this time went up a large staircase. The upstairs of the mansion was just as ornate as the downstairs, and had many rooms. The butler stopped in front of a set of double doors. “The master’s suite,” he said, opening one so I could see in. The room was enormous, done in sumptuous reds and golds.

  “Your room will be across the hall,” he added, closing the door to Elliot’s suite. He moved across the corridor to the facing double doors and swung them wide. “It’s better for you to be close by, in case the two of you are called out in the middle of the night.”

  I nodded as I stepped inside, my breath taken away. The room was the size of my entire apartment. A large buttery leather couch bisected the room and faced a large flat-panel television mounted over the fireplace. Bookshelves on either side were filled with CDs, DVDs, and books. A closer inspection proved that it was my own personal collection. Apparently, the supermovers had arrived before I did. The other side of the room was taken up by a king-sized bed covered w
ith a spread done in deep greens and yellows, like the rest of the room. An enormous walk-in closet already housed all my clothes. Directly across from the closet was a large bathroom, complete with a Jacuzzi tub.

  I had died and gone to heaven.

  “I trust everything is to your liking, Miss Livingston?”

  A bit embarrassed to see Mayhew still standing in the doorway to witness my gawking, I waved aside formality. “Lainey, please. Miss Livingston sounds like an old maid living with her hundred cats. And everything is fabulous, but you know that. Your decorator has a good eye.”

  The butler smiled. “Mister Elliot does what he can.”

  I stared. “The Reincarnist—I mean Elliot—did all of this?”

  The butler nodded. “Yes, Miss Lainey.”

  I looked around again, weighing my surroundings against the man I barely knew. “Interesting.” Was there anything the man couldn’t do? Well, except hold a conversation without sounding arrogant.

  “Do you have a dress for dinner, Miss Lainey?”

  Some of my newfound glow started to slip away. “Yes, I have a dress. I met the President in it, so I think it will do for dinner.” Maybe my nerves were making me extra irritable, but neither of them had to act like I didn’t know how to dress or handle myself in the company of the elite.

  “Should you require anything at all, do not hesitate to ring,” Mayhew said, unperturbed. “If you need help dressing, I can send up one of the maids. Also, the workout facilities and the pool are at your disposal in the downstairs left wing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I shall leave you to get acclimated.” He left with a slight nod, shutting the doors behind him.

  The doors had barely closed before I launched myself onto the large bed. Working with the Reincarnist might not be a picnic, but the amenities were definitely making up for it.

  It wasn’t like it was going to be such a hardship working with him, either. Regardless of the vibe he gave off, it was an honor to work with the smartest man alive, and hey, he’d earned the right to his arrogance.

  There was also the little flutter he gave me in the pit of the stomach.

  Oh no, I ordered myself. Don’t go there. Crushes on the boss do not work out. Ask anyone.

  Still, I couldn’t wait to wow him at dinner to night.

  Or at least show him I wasn’t a poorly dressed dolt.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I descended the wide staircase, keeping a steady hand on the banister. It didn’t help; my four-inch heels still caught on something invisible to the human eye, and I almost fell down the stairs. Klutziness, thy name is Lainey. Swearing under my breath, I tightened my grip on the banister and continued gingerly down, probably looking like a kid wobbling in her mother’s shoes. I had never mastered the sashaying walk most women seemed to be born with. Maybe it was because I had never had a mother to guide me to womanhood, but there was something boyish about my manner, despite being amply blessed in the bosom area. I was meant to kick butt, not be eye candy.

  I made it to the hall without falling and stood outside for a moment, checking to make sure every inch of the black designer dress was in its place. Satisfied, I took a deep breath, opened the door to the dining room, and walked in. A large table took up most of the space. At one end sat the Reincarnist, reading a newspaper. He glanced up and folded the newspaper, setting it next to his plate.

  “Good, you are on time.” He rose and walked over to me. I felt his eyes travel my body, assessing me as he approached.

  See, I’m not a slob, I thought. Aloud, I said, “Where is everybody?”

  “Pardon me?”

  I gestured to the room. “We’re in this huge room, all dressed up. I thought you were having company.”

  “Not to night, no.”

  “So why are we dressed up?”

  He looked at me as if I were beyond understanding. “I told you, we dress for dinner in this house. Long ago, people used to dress up for dinner and not lounge about in jeans and T-shirts.” He pulled out a chair at the other end of the table from his place and stood waiting for me to take it. I looked blankly at him. Why would he seat me so far away?

  “Sit down.” He motioned to the chair.

  “Seriously?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just the two of us. You’re all the way down at the other end of the room!”

  “The acoustics are very good in here. One can carry on a conversation quite well, though I am afraid I have gotten used to dining alone as of late.”

  I gave up and sat down. So my life for the foreseeable future was going to be spent dressed up for meals in an enormous hall with a companion who didn’t like to talk. Not that I would have been able to hear him, anyway.

  “Maybe I should bring a book or something,” I said, more to myself than him, as he retook his seat at the other end of the monstrous table.

  “Pardon?”

  “Exactly.”

  He rang a bell and Mayhew appeared from the door behind him. “We are ready.”

  “Of course, sir.” He disappeared again.

  I examined the array of utensils in front of me. Good thing I had practice eating at fancy political dinners, otherwise I’d be feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of forks.

  “Do you always wear black?” Elliot asked, his voice echoing off the walls. Okay, so maybe the acoustics were good in this room.

  “Huh?”

  He motioned to my dress. “I have seen photographs of your costume. And your dress. Do you always look as if you are in mourning?”

  I glared at him in outrage. He made me get all dressed up and then he was going to complain about what I was wearing? “I went to meet the President in this dress, and he didn’t seem to think I looked like I was going to a funeral.”

  “The President was probably admiring the assets the dress shows off.”

  That was it. The gloves were off. No way was I going to sit there and be insulted and somewhat sexually harassed.

  “You know, for the smartest man alive, you certainly are an idiot when it comes to women,” I said, my voice calm.

  Mayhew, who had walked in at just that moment, was standing stock-still, shooting quick glances at his employer. I calmly stared at Elliot, waiting for his response.

  His lips twitched suspiciously. He found my outburst amusing? “I do apologize, Miss Livingston, I meant no offense. You are correct. I am not an expert in women’s fashion. I only meant that you might want to try wearing a bit of color once in a while. I am sorry to have upset you.”

  The danger past, Mayhew set the first course down in front of me, winking. He knows his employer’s crazy, I thought. Maybe at least I have an ally in him.

  “Apology accepted,” I said. “I’m sorry I said you were ignorant.”

  This time a smile did break out. “Actually you are correct, Miss Livingston. I may have lived forever, but I still do not have the best social skills. A side effect, I am afraid, of spending too much time in the lab and with books.”

  “Maybe you should get out more. When you’re not tracking down villains, I mean.”

  “Maybe I shall. Do try the wine, it is an excellent vintage.”

  I sipped it. It was good; not too heavy. “So, speaking of the lab, how did it go with the coffee grounds?”

  “We shall see to night. The police have searched the surrounding area where the child was last seen, as well as the one I pointed out today, and found nothing. Tonight I want to try a detection spell on-site, and see what I can find. I may need you to fly around and check the buildings.”

  I speared a piece of lettuce. “So I can be useful to you?” I said, a slight hint of humor creeping in my voice.

  “That remains to be seen. I want to determine how strong your investigative skills are. But first, let us enjoy our meal. No more business discussion at the dinner table.”

  “Is that what heroics are to you—business, not pleasure?”

  “Fighting cri
me is our job, much the same as it is for a police officer or a judge. And having studied extensively in criminal psychology and forensics, not to mention my magical advantages, I get many requests for help from the police, and that is also my job.”

  “I thought you were old money,” I said, and then bit my lip. He probably didn’t like the billionaire playboy stereo type being shoved in his face.

  He laughed. “My dear girl, Robert Elliot might be called ‘old money’ by society, but who do you think earned and invested it for all of these years? I have worked very hard for all of this.”

  Well, now I felt stupid. “Of course you did. It’s just a hard concept to wrap your mind around, someone living multiple lives and retaining the knowledge from each.”

  “I do not remember everything,” he said with a distracted air. “Many of the details are fuzzy. For instance, I can tell you I fought in every major war in the United States, but not who my commanding officers were.”

  I shivered. “Sounds a bit spooky to me.”

  “Why? You do not recall every bit of your life in perfect detail. Could you tell me what happened to you on this date fifteen years ago?”

  “No, not exactly.” I would have been eleven, so I could hazard a guess that my classmates at the School were probably torturing me, but I got his point. “So I guess death doesn’t really scare you, huh?”

  “Why would that be?”

  I toyed with my napkin. “You know you’ll come right back, right?”

  “Not exactly.” He frowned. “There is never a guarantee the life I am living will not be my last one. Or that if I do come back, that I will retain any memories at all or just become a blank slate.”

  I shivered. Yikes.

  “We could talk about my long life for years, but I would rather hear something about you,” he said. He obviously wanted to change the subject.

  I let the approaching main course of beef Wellington distract me. “There’s probably not much to say that you don’t already know.”

  “Pretend I know nothing about you.”