I poked my tongue out at him, and kept on reading. Poppy apparently was the result of a horny werewolf and a human groupie encounter, with neither parent being intelligent enough to realize they were fertile at the time of their brief liaison. The mother didn't want the resulting child, didn't know where the father was, so poor Poppy was shoved onto various relatives until she ran away at fifteen. She'd had a multitude of jobs since then, but thanks to her temper and her attitude, hadn't been able to hold on to anything for very long. She supported herself in between with thieving, and the occasional spot of prostitution. She'd gotten into Melbourne three days ago, after having ripped off the wrong house in Sydney and having the owners place a large reward for information on her whereabouts.
Charming. I'd just become a wanted criminal. "Poor Poppy's had a bitch of a life, hasn't she?"
Jack grinned. "Read that until you know her off by heart." He hesitated. "And make sure you start reflecting her attitude."
I nodded. "I won't have a problem with that part of it."
"Which is why we put that in. Liander, you want to start in on her? Rhoan, here's your profile."
Liander grabbed my hand and led me into the bathroom. As he sat me down, I saw the scissors.
"How short are we going?" I said instantly.
"Very short."
"No," I said, my hands going to my hair. I loved it just the way it was-I could put up with it being dyed, but cut short? No way. I mean, I cut it to shoulder length every summer, but I didn't really consider that short. Not in the sense Liander was talking about, anyway.
He sighed. "Darling, your hair is luscious, I admit, but it is so out of fashion at the moment. Hell, even your brother has more style than you, and that's saying something."
"That's because my brother raids the bank account to go shopping, and I'm the one that worries about where the rent and food money is coming from."
"Yes, but lack of money doesn't excuse lack of style. I have been offering free haircuts for years."
"I like medium to long hair. Anything wrong with that?"
"Normally, no. But long hair doesn't suit the shoes you're stepping into. She's trendy. With it." He flicked the end of my hair. "This is not."
"I know, but-"
"Trust me," he said. "You'll look divine. And your hair will grow back, regardless."
I blew out a frustrated breath, but gave in to the inevitable. I was being ridiculous and I knew it. Besides, I wanted my life back, and if doing that meant cutting my hair extremely short, then surely that was a small price to pay. "If it doesn't look good, I'm going over to your place and destroying all your makeup."
He grinned. "Warning heeded. Now shut up and let the master create."
For the next three hours he had his wicked way with my looks, and I had to admit, the end result was startling. He'd dyed my skin a dark gold, covering the smattering of freckles scattered across my cheeks and shoulders, and giving me the rich glow of a sun worshipper. My hair was as short as I'd feared, the ends barely brushing the bottom of my ears, but had been layered so that it framed my face, giving me a cheeky, yet extremely sexy, look. He'd also streaked it with blonde, which played amongst the natural gold highlights in my red hair and gave the overall effect of three-toned hair. Breathable, bright green contacts completed the transformation.
"Wow," was all I could manage to say. I didn't look like me, even though he hadn't changed all that much.
He gave me a pleased smile. "One more touch, and we're finished."
"And what's that?"
"Voice modulator."
"Ewww."
He smacked my shoulder. "Stop being a baby."
"Hey, it's not the inside of your cheek that thing is being shoved into it."
"I got hold of some of the smaller ones, just because I knew you'd whine." He showed me the round pieces of soft plastic. They were even thinner than the last ones we'd used, their thickness being little more than that of extremely fine paper. Width-wise, they were no bigger than a small coin. Once inserted, no one would feel they were there unless they were actually looking for the things-or I decided to deep-throat someone. Not an option considering where I was going.
"Open wide, darling."
"I bet you say that to all the men," I muttered, but did as he asked.
He inserted the small plastic chips in either side of my mouth, and it still felt like he was ripping out teeth rather than shoving plastic under my skin.
"Owww, owww, owww," I said, when I could. "You could at least use painkillers when you do that."
"Stop being such a baby. Besides, the surface of the modulators art covered with an analgesic and deaden the skin as they go in."
"Hate to tell you this, but it doesn't work."
"Trust me, this would be a whole lot more painful if it wasn't. Now, say something else so I know they're working properly."
"I hope one day someone does this to you, just so you can see it is painful, painkiller or no painkiller." My voice was several octaves lower, and rich with a huskiness that conjured long nights in smoke filled rooms. A threat had never sounded so sexy, let me tell you.
"Very nice," he murmured, then bent and grabbed a backpack. "You wardrobe and worldly possessions."
"Joy." I unzipped the bag. Inside was jeans, tank tops, a pair of sneakers, a belt that had a real-looking spider as the buckle, a couple of sweaters and one barely-there dress. All of them looked worse for wear, worn and wrinkled looking. Except for the underclothing, all of which was top shelf and extremely sexy.
"A female thief would at least ensure decent underclothing, no matter what other state her clothes were in," Liander commented.
"But I'm not a very successful thief if this bag is all I have to show for it."
"Jack told me your cover had to leave Sydney in a hurry, and to pack accordingly. Why don't you change, then I can get on with transforming Rhoan."
"And just what are you going to do with Rhoan?"
"Brown on brown. Boringly so."
I raised an eyebrow. "If you're hoping boring will mean less appealing, I'm thinking it won't work."
He smiled. "No, but he hates boring, so it's a chance to get back at him a little."
I chuckled softly. After changing into the jeans and a dark-green tank top, I studied myself in the mirror. Someone remarkably younger, with a whole lot of sex appeal and attitude, stared back at me. Despite my original misgivings, I had to admit, it was a fantastic look. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "You do good work."
"I am the best at what I do," he said loftily, then grinned. "Go tell that loser brother of yours it's his turn."
I headed out, and even Jack did something of a double take. "Now that's what I call smashing."
"I think I should be offended about all these sudden comments. It's only a hair and skin-color change. The rest is still me."
"Except for the voice," Rhoan said. "You could make a fortune on those phone-sex lines."
"We'll see who's laughing at whom when he finishes with you, smart ass." I glanced at Jack as Rhoan headed off. "This look doesn't really match the type of person Dia seems to pick."
"As I said, she doesn't pick only prostitutes. Her other choices generally have good figures and looks, are clean disease-wise, and have a background that checks out-someone who needs to make a lot of money and who doesn't mind spreading her legs to do it."
"And what if she doesn't notice me, or doesn't choose me?"
"Oh, she'll at least notice you."
I raised my eyebrows. "And how are you going to ensure that?"
He gave me one of his pleased smiles. "Tonight you're going to save Dia Jones's life."
"And of course," I said, voice dry, "she'll be so grateful, she'll beg me to come along to Starr's estate and shag the balls off his two lieutenants."
Jack grinned. "That's the plan."
"And if she decides not to follow your plan?"
"She will. Poppy is exactly what she's looking for-someone with no morals, who doesn't care what she does for cash."
Nothing like being confident in a plan. Maybe it was the pessimist in me, or maybe it was that pesky, emerging clairvoyance skill, but either way, I wasn't so sure everything would hill into place as neatly as Jack might wish. "And when I get to the estate?"
"Take a day or so to settle in-you'll be watched fairly closely in that period, at least, so don't try anything until you think you're in the clear."
"And when I think I am?"
"You attract the attention of Starr's lieutenants, and drag all the information out of their minds that you can."
It wasn't going to be that easy, and we both knew it. For a start, I was basically still a novice when it came to mind-reading, and my control wasn't always what it should be. Though given what I'd done to Quinn this morning, maybe that was more due to an increase in power than any lack in skill. Maybe I was having so much trouble simply because the power I was controlling was greater each time, and I hadn't the skill to realize it. "What if I can't read their minds?"
He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"What I said. You may have been teaching me the finer points of telepathic control, but that doesn't mean I'll be able to break through their shields. They might even have electronic shields in place."