Sunny - Mona Lisa Eclipsing

“You’re talking about a lot of money here, to hire any one of those firms you just mentioned.”

“Fortunately, I happen to have a lot of money at the moment.”

His silence expressed skepticism, but he did give me a name. Thanking him I hung up and a short while later we were pulling off the road into the hotel parking lot. We parked around the side of the building in the shade. Hannah went inside to register us, loaded with a bunch of fifty- and one-hundred-dollar bills, while the rest of us waited in the van.

I took the opportunity to call the firm McManus had said was the best. The phone call, this time, started out better as I introduced myself as Lisa Hamilton. But it came to a notable hiccup when the receptionist, an older woman by the sound of her voice, asked what I needed, refusing to let me speak to someone until she knew what the matter was about.

“Do you know the winged man they’re talking about on the news?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“It’s about him. Getting rights for him and other people like him,” I said, hoping that would be enough to pass me along to someone else.

“What . . . angels?” she said in a distinctly dry tone of voice.

“No, he’s actually a bird-shifter,” I corrected, then could have kicked myself because now the woman’s voice became clearly sarcastic.

“And are you a bird-shifter also?” she asked, saccharine sweet.

“No,” I gritted, “but I do have his best interest in mind, and I would like to speak to someone experienced in public law and policy who might be able to help him and others like him.”

“Oh,” she said, drawing out the word mockingly, obviously humoring me by playing along in this silly game of pretend. “So you’re saying there are others like him.”

Her words and tone of voice had me gnashing my teeth. I took in a careful breath and said, “All I ask is that you keep watching the news and take down my phone number so you have somewhere to call if you do eventually decide someone in your office might want to speak to me.” I repeated my name and telephone number twice, then hung up.

“This is not going to be easy,” I said, exhaling a long, frustrated breath. “I’m getting a feeling people aren’t going to believe us when we tell them who we are, even after what they saw Jarvis do.”

“Not until you show them that we’re not human,” Quentin said, his face as grim as everyone else in the van who had heard the conversation.

“Speak for yourself!” I said. “Just kidding. No, I know what you mean.”

Hannah returned with some key cards in hand. “I booked two suites right next to each other. Each with two bedrooms and a living room area with a queen sofa pullout bed. I thought that would be better than single rooms.”

“It is, good thinking.” She gave the change and receipt to me and I shoved the bundle at Dontaine. “Dontaine, can you take care of this? Keep track of all our expenses?”

“Of course,” he answered.

“Good,” Quentin said, peering sideways at me. “I thought you were going to shove that responsibility on me, as well as driving the van, handling the GPS, and handling every other aspect involved with modern living.”

“Complaining already, Quentin?” I opened the door and got out. “I thought you wanted to be seen as more than a pretty face or body. Or are you missing Mona Maretta already?”

“Ouch! Low blow,” Quentin said. But his light teasing did what the smart boy had intended, easing me out of the somber mood I had fallen into.

Quentin, Nolan, and Hannah took the first suite. My three lovers and I took the next suite. Our rooms were nicely situated in the back, not visible from the road.

I dumped my three cases on the floor. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Not so fast,” said Dontaine, taking my suitcases into a bedroom. Opening the bag that contained my dressier clothes, he hung them neatly in the closet. “Which one do you wish to wear?” he asked.

“You want me to change?” I glanced down at the jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers that I had on, and didn’t see anything wrong with what I was wearing. No holes or stains or anything; they weren’t even frayed.

Amber and Dante remained in the living room, their faces carefully blank. I got the feeling, however, they were both secretly amused.

“When you declare our existence to the world today, you will be representing us all,” Dontaine said, smoothing the wrinkles out of one of the full-length black dresses I had brought—what Monère Queens usually wore. “It would be nice if you were dressed more presentably.”

“Nuh-uh,” I said, shaking my head. “No way am I going to wear a long, black formal gown.”

I wanted to say, You can’t make me , but better inspiration came to me. “If the other Queens are going to remain in hiding, we don’t want to make it easy for humans to find them, right? So a black gown is definitely out. Plus, wearing all black is pretty severe. I don’t want to go out looking like Morticia or anything.”

“Morticia?” asked Amber.

“From The Addams Family . An old TV show,” Dante explained.

My poor Warrior Lord didn’t look any further enlightened.

“Hmm, you have a point. Perhaps something more colorful would be better,” Dontaine said, his eye moving to a bright scarlet dress.

In defense, I grabbed an outfit Dontaine’s friend in New Orleans, a professional dresser, had put together for me—gold slacks paired with a light green oriental shirt, and ivory ballet slippers. It was elegant and sophisticated, and much less gaudy than the scarlet dress he had been considering.

“No dress or high heels,” I asserted firmly, stepping into the bathroom to change. “I might need to run if we have to make a quick getaway.”

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I was met with the appreciative stares of three pairs of masculine eyes. The gleam in Dontaine’s eyes was just a touch too satisfied, telling me I’d just been had. I walked over and hit him in the arm.

“What was that for?” Dontaine asked. Had he been human, he might have said Ow! and rubbed his arm. But tough Monère warriors apparently didn’t do that.

“You played me,” I accused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dontaine replied innocently, but a pleased smirk leaked out despite his best efforts to suppress it. Amber and Dante didn’t even try to hide their grins from me.

Unable to help myself, I smiled. “Okay, Slick. You got me to change into a nice outfit. Let’s go now.”

“Three more minutes,” Dontaine said, dangling my makeup bag in front of me with a pleading, coaxing look that clearly said, Please, milady, you’re going to be representing us all.

Giving in, I sat down at the end of the bed. “No more than three minutes,” I grumped, looking at my watch. “I’ll be counting.”

Using a deft, steady hand and full Monère speed, he had my hair and makeup done with ten seconds to spare: a quick application of smoky eye shadow, contouring blush, and red lipstick; my hair was a simple brush out, a squirt of gel onto his hands, and artful scrunching. Simple things that somehow gave me a salon-styled look.

A complete transformation, I noted, looking in the mirror. “I don’t know how you do that, Dontaine.”

“It’s all in the hands,” Dontaine said with a wink, “and a good haircut. Now we are ready to go.”

And we were, I saw, running my appreciative gaze over the three gorgeous men behind me who had also taken the time to change into neater attire, making them even more mouthwateringly scrumptious.

I smiled in sudden anticipation. “Watch out, world. Ready or not, here we come.”