Invisible Eve

by Bladewind

Arnaud creates and Invisible Eve to the Invisible Adam (Darien) but she's definitely Arnaud's girl

Title: Invisible Eve
Author: Bladewind
Rating: R
Notes: Damn right this is an Arnaud fic. What else? Many thanks to Gwenyfahra, who came up with this idea and has edited immercifully (bless you!), and to LoganLover, who brought me back to reality with her edits (a fervent thank you!!).
Disclaimer: yappa yappa, the usual. This is a TIM fic. All TIM characters are property of TPTB; Andrea is the creation of my own fevered imagination (as are everyone else) except Genevieve is the property of Gwenyfahra. I'm not making any money off of this, just read it!
Music: Closer, by Nine Inch Nails, Catching the Butterfly by the Verve



We were in an underground lab somewhere in the Swiss Alps. A white, clinical hallway stretched away in front of me, leading to two closed steel doors. A machine gun shoved me in the small of my back, and I stumbled forward.
"Walk," a harsh voice commanded. I walked. We proceeded down the hallway until we reached the doors. One of the men behind me reached out and punched in a security code. The doors slid open to reveal a vast room, whitely lit. I saw that a section of it was set up like an operating theatre, and that another part was set up as a lab. The walls were brushed steel and white tile, and the floor was polished concrete. And standing calmly in front of it all was a man I immediately recognized as Arnaud de Fohn, a white lab coat over his clothes.
"You finally made it here," he said to the guards, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Glad to see you could follow your orders. Venez," he said, turning. The man behind me pushed me, and I fought him, hoping to break free, although I was still a little groggy from the sedative I'd been given. Arnaud heard us scuffling, turned to look at us, then continued walking. The man shoved the gun into my shoulder blades, and I reluctantly walked forward.
"Look around you," Arnaud said conversationally. "This is my little lab. I'm sure you'll find it much to your liking after you've stayed here for a time." As he talked, we walked through the room. Passing the operating theatre, I struggled violently to break free from the black-clad Neanderthal holding me, but he wrenched my arms around so roughly that tears of pain sprang to my eyes. Arnaud dropped his mask of congeniality, walked back to me, and grabbed my hair, twisting his hands in it until he pulled my head back. He put his face very near to mine and said softly, "Stop it. You really won't like the consequences if you continue to try to break free. I don't want to have to hurt you."
"Go to hell," I told him.
He nodded to another guard, who slowly drew his hand back and slapped me hard across the face.
"Alright," I growled through clenched teeth. "Alright."
Arnaud abruptly released me, and I nearly sobbed with relief. He nodded at my captor, who let go of me roughly. I stumbled forward, then stood, chin set in defiance. "Call off the guards. I promise you that I won't try to escape as long as you call them off."
He considered me for a minute, then nodded. "Allez," he said, waving his hand imperiously. The guards turned and disappeared out through the stainless doors. When they closed again, the sound had the ominous hint of finality to it.
"Let me introduce you to the members of my team," Arnaud said to me. He took my upper arm in a grip that was deceptively gentle.
"Whoa, whoa, wait a second, Monsieur de Fohn," I said hotly. "I want to know what in God's name the meaning of all this is. Who gave you the right to kidnap me, drug me, and bring me here!"
"Sorry about that," he replied, sounding none-too-apologetic. "But you were about to travel overseas, and that didn't fit into my plans at all. I had to get you while it was still feasible."
"What?" I exclaimed. "How did you know that I was going overseas?"
"Oh, it was simple, really," he said laconically. "We completed all the work on this project yesterday, except the last stage, and so I'd been checking in on you for the last week to make sure that you wouldn't slip out of my grasp. I noticed that you'd withdrawn a large sum of money from your bank account, and the rest was simple detective work."
"Excuse me," I said harshly. "But what the hell do I have to do with this project of yours?"
He ignored my question and said instead, "This way. Come meet my fellow scientists." His hand tightened its grip on my arm.
I tossed my hair angrily. "Fine," I spat, pinning my amber gaze on his broadly muscled back, hoping to bore holes into it. It didn't work.
Arnaud "escorted" me through a small door on the left that I hadn't noticed. We passed out of that glaring white room and into a small, softly lit, carpeted room. Standing around in it were about five people, four men and one woman. They all had a hard, dangerous look about them, a look not belied in the least by their scientist regalia. All of them were lean, muscled, and unsmiling. It was hard to believe these people were scientists.
Arnaud said, "May I present to you Andrea Kanovfara, our test subject. I traveled with her on a train from Paris to Geneva about six months ago, and we had quite a lovely time traveling together." He smiled, and it was obvious that he was proud to have found me. I started, alarmed at the mention of "test subject."
I looked at him and said sharply, "Don't get any ideas in your head, buddy. All we did was talk." I knew that he had to know who I was, but it was a shock to realize that he'd remembered me from a single train ride half a year ago. But then again, I had recognized him at first sight, too.
He continued, "Mademoiselle Kanovfara, may I introduce to you Monsieur Thibaut--" a tall, blonde man came forward, "Monsieur de Montpar--" a hawk-nosed man, "Herr von Waldenhaus--" a raw-boned German, "Monsieur Lewis--" an ebony-skinned, stunning black man, "and last, but definitely not least, Demoiselle Bretagne." A woman in her mid-thirties came to stand beside Arnaud and placed a hand possessively on his arm. She looked me over in a slow, contemptuous way, then stood back again. I was wary of all of them, but I was immediately afraid of her. Although she was quite attractive, her coal-dust eyes were flat and dead...but for a moment I'd swear crimson flamed in them.
"Now," Arnaud said. "I think that you should rest for a day before we proceed." Bretagne shot me a poisonous look, but the others nodded in consent. "If you please, walk this way then," he gestured, steering me out through another door into a small hallway.
We walked down the hallway, passing doors on either side, until Arnaud stopped beside one and opened it, pushing me into the room. I found I was in a small room with no windows. No television, either. There was only a bed, a walk-in closet filled with various clothes and a bookcase containing books of all genres. Off to the side was a door leading to a bathroom.
I stood tensely in the middle of the room and looked expectantly at Arnaud. He shut the door and stood in front of me. I continued to stare at him, and he reached out and pushed a strand of my dark-blonde hair back. My heart fluttered, despite my anger.
"Would you mind telling what the hell you're doing, Monsieur de Fohn?" I asked.
"Later," he said, an odd light in his eyes. He saw that I was about to protest, and said, "Remember, I can always call the guards back in, and we can do this less pleasantly..."
"Alright," I said quickly, knowing discretion had just become the better part of valor. I looked at him for a moment, admiring those blazing green eyes, then shook myself. What was I thinking? This man had had me accosted, drugged, and brought here at gunpoint. Still...
My mind flashed back to that one train ride six months ago...

We were sitting in a swaying train car of the TGV, the setting sun casting red streamers over the face of the man sitting across from me. He had thick, close-cropped dark hair, a strong nose, and a determined jaw. His intense eyes were a pale green.
I looked at him, pushing a strand of my light brown hair behind my ear. He was staring ahead, lost in thought. I decided to break the silence.
"Where are you traveling to?" I asked him politely. He started, then looked at me. I saw his brow wrinkle in reaction to my naturally golden-amber eyes.
"I'm going to Geneva," he answered, his English accented with French. "And you?"
"I'm traveling to Bern," I replied, glad to talk. "I'm doing a study on ancient and rare manuscripts. Why are you going to Geneva?"
"I'm going to try and convince some of my colleagues there to work with me on a project of mine relating to cutting-edge optics."
"Optics?" I questioned. "Are you working with 'corrective-optics' technologies for telescopes?"
He smiled. "You know about that? Not many people really do. I've worked with that before, it's quite amazing, actually." He started talking about the different telescopes around the world, and I happily discussed them with him. That ran to European aerospace programs and then cosmology.
I spoke up. "I just realized I've been debating with you for an hour and I don't know what I should call you. May I?"
The man asked me suddenly, "Are your eyes naturally amber?"
"Yes," I told him laughingly. "I've always gotten comments about that. It's not contacts and you can't dye them to that color."
"Sorry," he said apologetically. "I'm Arnaud de Fohn."
I smiled. "Monsieur de Fohn," I repeated. "I'm Andrea Kanovfara. Nice to meet you."
"Would you care to eat dinner with me?" he asked politely.
"Certainly," I replied, glad for the company. We walked through the train until we came to the dining car, and sat down at a table. Soon a waiter brought us a steaming meal.
"So what are your interests, besides space?" Arnaud inquired.
"Music, all the sciences, but especially space. I've played in theatre before, and enjoyed that. I enjoy biology, especially the study of diseases, and observing. I'm really a mix, aren't I?" I laughed.
"Observing?" Arnaud had jumped onto the one odd thing I had said. "What do you mean?"
"I watch people. I make it my business to know what is going on. I prefer to know more about everyone than they know about me. It serves me well," I said, watching him, seeing him tense faintly.
"Really?" he said, just a hint of stress in his voice. "Most people don't have such a philosophy..."
"Yes, well, lets just say that as a child I'd had some experiences that made me realize how much power knowledge has over a person." I paused, remembering the humiliation of having surgery for scoliosis. "After that I resolved to always know more about them than they know about me." My voice had hardened. Arnaud looked at me through narrowing eyes, gauging me.
I continued, "It also taught me to take advantage of every situation I'm presented with. Arguing does nothing, so it's best just to shut up and run with what you've got."
Arnaud nodded slowly, an unidentifiable look on his face. "You are wise, Mademoiselle Kanovfara. Most of the people in the world do not understand what you live by."
I inclined my head to him, then got up from the table. He rose quickly and walked to my side. I looked at him, then proceeded to walk back to our car. He walked behind me. I entered our car and sat down in the large seat, closing my eyes and breathing deeply. I felt the tension leave my muscles and I made my heart slow. I relaxed into the seat. "Biofeedback, Monsieur de Fohn," I informed him. "Yet another useful trick."
I wondered if I was divulging too much information about myself, then decided I didn't care. My past was buried, and that's the way it would stay. I was a simple researcher now; I'd put my old skills behind me...skills like my knife-throwing and street fighting. They had no place in my life anymore.
I had closed my eyes and was drifting, semi-conscious. My senses were still alert, however, and I heard the car open and someone walk stealthily over to me. I snapped up my arm in a defensive gesture and vaulted out of the chair, preparing to take on my attacker...
"Mademoiselle Kanovfara! Stop!" a male voice cried. I recognized the voice as Arnaud de Fohn's and stopped my defense. I looked at the male form in front of me, outlined by the faint moonlight.
"Forgive me," I said, walking over to the switch and flicking on the light. "Next time, make some noise." I relaxed and leaned against the swaying wall of the train. "What time is it?" I asked him.
"That is why I came in," he told me. "We're nearing Geneva and will be in the station in about ten minutes." I caught him eyeing me again and shot him a look. He glanced quickly away.
Soon the train slowed and came to a stop inside an enormous old train station. Arnaud retrieved his bags from the corner and was about to leave when he looked back.
"It's been a pleasure, Mademoiselle Kanovfara," he said, extending his hand.
"It has," I replied, shaking it. "Good luck here with your colleagues. I'll miss your company on the way to Bern."
"And to you," he said. "Au revoir."
I smiled at that. "Adieu," I answered. Arnaud looked at me a second longer, then disappeared out the door. I felt a wash of sadness that he was gone, and wondered why he had bid me "au revoir" and not "adieu." We would never meet again...

I came back to the present and looked back at Arnaud. "Then yesterday in Paris I was jumped by some Neanderthals who had broken into my apartment. They drugged me, and then three hours ago they woke me up. I suppose it was so that they didn't have to look suspicious on the tram for carrying an unconscious woman," I commented dryly. "We took the tram to a little village and then they tied me up and stuck me between them on a snowmobile to get here. Now tell me what is going on!"
"No," he replied, getting up off the bed. "Now I advise you to go to sleep for a while, get rid of the last effects of the sedative. Dinner will be served at eight. Monsieur Lewis will escort you."
He walked out the door, and I heard the distinctive sound of a key in the lock. "Dammit," I swore, then kicked at the space where he had stood. I decided to take a shower, then climbed into the bed, figuring I needed some sleep. I still had no idea what was going on, but I did know that whatever it was, I would find out soon enough.

***

I woke suddenly. I looked around the room and for a moment had no idea where I was. Then I remembered the past day and felt my anger flash hotly. I looked at my watch-seven-thirty. I had half an hour before dinner.
I got out of bed and walked to the closet, figuring I could at least see what kind of clothes I was going to wear. I looked at the sizes, and wasn't surprised to see that they would all fit me. Arnaud was nothing, if thorough. Sweaters, Oxford shirts, blue jeans, a pair of leather pants...? I raised an eyebrow. What the heck was a pair of leather pants doing in the Swiss Alps? Then I grinned. Hey, if it was in the closet, I would wear it.
I pulled on the pants and tossed a lilac lambswool sweater on. At least there wasn't a lack of good clothes around...now for makeup. I went to the bathroom and looked at the cabinet behind the mirror. I wasn't surprised this time, either, to see that the makeup was perfect for me.
I knew that these things were designed to put me at ease and buy me, but they weren't going to work, precisely because I knew what they were here for. But...it has always been my creed to take advantage of anything that's come my way, under any circumstance. So, I donned the clothes and makeup with pleasure.
Suddenly I heard the lock of my door opening, and Lewis walked in. He had taken off the lab coat and had on black pants and a cream-colored shirt that contrasted nicely with his dark skin. "Come on," he said, and grabbed my wrist.
"Where are we going?" I asked, testing him, knowing we were going to dinner.
He looked down at me and tugged me. "Let's go," he said shortly.
Damn, I thought, he's not going to tell me anything without permission. I sighed, and walked hurriedly to keep him from dragging me down the hallway.
We arrived in front of yet another door, which opened to a small chamber. It resembled an English manor dining room. A fire burned in the fireplace, but something seemed wrong with it. I looked at it and realized it made no sound, and looked wrong, somehow.
"It's an advanced holographic technology," Arnaud spoke up. "It's not a real fire. Besides, how would we vent one?"
"Nice," I muttered, impressed in spite of myself. "You really are interested in optics."
That comment drew a cold laugh from everyone around the table. "Mademoiselle Kanovfara, that is not our real research," Thibaut spoke up. "For us, it's a little distraction, nothing more."
I looked at them, puzzled. "I thought that you were researching cutting-edge optics...?"
"Oh, you make me sick. Eat." Bretagne gave me a look of disdain. Arnaud shot a tense look at her, then steered me to the table.
Everyone else already had food on their plates. Arnaud took my plate and served me. I noted with relief that he stirred each dish before he put some of its contents on my plate. I realized that I was famished, and at my food with zest. It was surprisingly good, and I took seconds, although no one else did.
I gradually realized that I couldn't follow their conversation; their words washed around me without my understanding. I felt my limbs growing unnaturally heavy. Too late I realized that they had drugged me. The last thought I had was that they must have drugged the food after they had served themselves, and that stirring the dishes ensured I got a good dose...

***

Sound was restored before sight was. I heard a male voice commanding, "Wake up, Andrea," and identified the accent as Swiss. The voice continued, "I know that you're coming out of it. Open your eyes."
I slowly slitted my eyes open, and saw a man standing over me, his dark hair mussed. I realized that it was Arnaud and quickly turned my head away from the sight of him...then I groaned in pain. The back of my skull was throbbing and tender. I stiffened, which only made the pain worse. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I fought to hide them.
"Damn," another voice said. This one had a German accent...it was von Waldenhaus. "Give her some codeine. The pain should have been gone by now, but..."
A needle pierced the inside of my arm. I started to feel detached from my body, which was, under the circumstances, a good thing.
"Why isn't the pain gone yet? It's been three weeks," a third voice said. It had to be de Montpar.
Lewis chipped in, "We did an exceptional job. Minimal loss of blood, minimal rearrangement of tissue, superior grafting..."
"Would you all just shut up?" I groaned. "And turn those lights off, please," I beseeched them.
A heard a snort. "You look like death warmed over," a cold female voice said. Bretagne. "I see I did well."
Silence. Then, "What?" Arnaud asked quietly, dangerously. "Do you mean to say that you intended for that this happen?" Everyone turned to look at Bretagne, and she stared back defiantly, refusing to say a word.
"Did. You. Do. This?" Arnaud coldly enunciated each word, emotion wiped from his face. Bretagne stiffened and lifted her chin proudly, silently damning him. "Take her away," Arnaud said, fury tightly controlled. "I'll deal with her later." To Bretagne he said coldly, "It's over, Denise. You have stepped over the line."
The other four men surrounded Bretagne and disappeared with her out a door. I had the feeling that I wouldn't be seeing her again. Arnaud stared at the closed door, his fury evident on his face. Finally he gained control of himself and sat on the edge of my bed.
"How do you feel?" he asked me.
"Honestly?" I asked him. "Honestly, I rather wish I were dead. Every muscle is stiff, and the back of my skull is killing me. Are you happy?" I spat out the word.
"No," he said shortly. "This was not supposed to happen. I wanted the operation to be perfect, and I thought it was. Obviously Bretagne did some sort of damage to you or the gland, and now I have to find out what she did." He paused; then continued to himself, "And then she will pay for tampering with the project." He got up and strode out the door the others had disappeared through.
I had the feeling that I was missing something, something big, but I was still too drugged to figure it out. My strength had drained away, and I fell into a dreamless sleep.

***

Arnaud thrust Bretagne into a small, empty room, harshly illuminated with arc lights. She stood in the middle of the room, a hostile, determined look on her face. Arnaud closed the door angrily and stalked over to her. He circled around her like a hawk circling prey.
"Why did you do it?" Arnaud hissed angrily. "Why did you tamper with the implantation of the gland?"
Bretagne stood silent, defying his anger. Arnaud stopped in front of her. "Answer me!" Bretagne spat at his feet. He looked at her, eyes blazing with fury, then slapped her once violently across the face. She let her head hang, hair straggling across her face.
"Answer me," Arnaud whispered, fury barely controlled. "I gave you one final chance at life, and you lost it. Tell me what I want to know, and you'll be eliminated relatively painlessly."
Suddenly Bretagne looked up, crimson anger flaming in her eyes. "Yes! Oh, you offered me so much, didn't you, de Fohn? Such a wonderful position. A lackey, a nobody, working under you, fawning at your every word. So you saved my life once, and now you are going to take it away. You know what? I don't care. Do you think that I care about pain anymore, de Fohn? About you? You bring in this girl, some cocky Americaine, and expect me to perform everything perfectly for her? You're a fool, de Fohn. I despise you."
Arnaud stood silent under the attack. He relaxed his face and smiled falsely. With a smooth motion he grabbed Bretagne and kissed her, one hand going to the back of her neck. She struggled to break free from him, then went limp. Arnaud pulled away from her, disgust clear on his face. He pulled a now-empty syringe from her neck.
While she was unconscious, a thoughtful look came to rest on Arnaud's features. Then he smiled slowly and whispered, "Bretagne, you have, through your own jealousy, given me the perfect way to make Andrea mine."
Bretagne twitched, and Arnaud composed his face into a look of concern. In a moment, her eyes opened and he bent over her.
"Are you all right?" he inquired concernedly.
"What happened?" she asked, dazed.
"You passed out for a second; I think you had a small seizure. I'm sure you'll be fine in a minute." He paused for a moment, waiting for her pupils to dilate.
"Now," he said quietly. "I applaud your work on the gland, Bretagne. Tell me how you did it."
Bretagne's disoriented face looked up at him. "It was simple, really. J'ai pris un peu de ma chair..." she continued to speak in French. Arnaud listened intently.

***

"Wake up, Mademoiselle Kanovfara," an unfamiliar male voice said. I cracked an eye open and saw Thibaut standing over me. "You need to eat, wash, get some exercise. Come."
I groaned. "There is no way in hell that I'm getting up. None."
"Yes you are," Thibaut said, voice growing hard. "You'll do it yourself, or I will make you do it. It won't be pleasant."
"Son of a bitch!" I said angrily. "I am so sick of you people playing God with my life!"
I felt two arms beneath me roughly lifting me off the bed and standing me on the floor. Thibaut's supporting arms let go of me, and I collapsed to the floor. I had no sense of balance, and my body was frighteningly weak. My head hit against the floor and I gasped in pain. Rivers of molten lava poured through my skull.
"Now," Thibaut said. "Get up. Walk."
I tried to lift myself off the floor, but couldn't. My body refused to move and my head had turned into a fiery mass of pain. All of the events since my kidnapping weighed down on my spirit, and my pride snapped, destroyed. I suddenly lost my will to fight. "I can't," I whispered, tears finally tracing their way down my cheeks. "Help me."
Thibaut stood, looking down at me, letting me wallow in my pain and helplessness. Finally he bent down to me and pulled me roughly upright. I bit my lip in pain. He propelled me across the room and out the door leading to the rest of the complex. Although he did not let me fall again, every step jolted agony through me. Finally, we came to the door of my bedroom. He pushed me though and then closed the door.
I fell to the floor and buried my face in the carpet, letting my tears flow freely, trying not to sob. Any movement caused claws to dig into my skull.
I heard footsteps approach and look up. Arnaud sat on his heels beside me, a look of concern on his face. "Don't move," he told me. I felt his arms around me, lifting me up and then placing me gently on the bed. Then I felt a needle prick, and something flowed into my veins.
"Morphine," Arnaud said quietly. "As much as I can safely give you. It will start to work quickly."
I closed my eyes and lay as still as possible. Soon the pain started to dull, just enough that I was no longer incapacitated. "Thank you," I whispered, grateful beyond words.
"I'm going to have to bathe and feed you," Arnaud told me. "I know that any movement will cause the pain to recur, so don't fight me. Once you've eaten and been cleaned up, we're going to anesthetize you again and perform another surgery to correct the grafting flaws Bretagne purposely made."
He moved away and returned a minute later with a basin of water, a small bottle of liquid soap, and a sponge. He gently washed my arms, legs, and face, then cleared his throat. I opened my eyes to look at him. His strong face had an odd expression on it. "I'm afraid I need to take off your gown. I need to ensure that you're totally clean before we perform surgery."
I closed my eyes again, aware only of the pain. "Whatever," I said. "Fine."
I heard a snipping noise and dimly realized that Arnaud was cutting the ties of my surgical gown. He gently lifted it off of me, and I felt air on my skin. He washed my back and torso, carefully avoiding my undergarments. He said softly, "Last thing. I'm sorry to do this to you, but it's imperative that your hair be clean."
I tensed in anticipation of the agony washing my hair would bring.
Arnaud carefully lifted me up, pulling the bedspread up with me and wrapping it around me in one quick motion. He carried me to the bathroom where he wet my hair and lathered it as gently as possible. Still, stars exploded in front of my eyes. Then he rinsed my hair out and combed it through. "You have such lovely hair," he said softly.
"Thank you," I whispered faintly, "but I'm about to pass out...."
Arnaud took me by both arms and steered me back out to the bed, where he directed me to sit. I did, and then he lifted my legs onto the bed. "Thank you," I said gratefully.
"Now to eat," he told me. He put two more pillows beneath my head so that I was reclining, then brought a spoonful of...baby food? to my mouth. I looked at it quizzically.
"Eat," he commanded. "It's nourishing, and you can't chew anything in your present state."
I opened my mouth, and he fed me, spoonful by spoonful. After I'd finished eating, he pulled a syringe from his jacket and said apologetically, "I need to give you a sedative now, Andrea. When you wake up again, I promise you things will be better."
I nodded, trusting him, and hardly felt the needle slide into my arm. The last thing I saw was his handsome face looking down upon me.

***

A surgical saw buzzed and monitors beeped. The scientists gathered around the prone form on the operating table. One reached up to move the surgical lamp to illuminate the incision.
"Damn," one scientist muttered. "Would you look at that."
They all peered at the brain tissue exposed. A silver growth was implanted on it. Its extensions spread throughout the surrounding tissues. The brain was healthy, as was the growth, but where the two interfaced it was dark red and inflamed.
"Huh," another muttered. His dark hand pointed. "The gland is healthy, and the rest of the brain is doing fine, but look where the grafts are. The brain is rejecting the tissue...how? The gland was grown using her cells."
"Bretagne," a German said. "How did she manage the delayed tissue rejection?"
"Simple, really," another scientist said. "She grafted a bit of her own flesh into the gland. As it grafted to the brain, the body recognized her foreign tissue in the gland and started to attack it."
"I assume we will just cut the tainted tissue away," one said.
"Yes, then repeat the grafting process...."

***

"She's coming out of it," a voice said tensely.
"Andrea? Can you hear me?" a Swiss voice asked. "Come on, come on," he muttered to himself.
I twisted my head to get away from the voices. All I wanted was to pass back out into unconsciousness.
Suddenly cold water hit my face. I gasped in shock and my eyes flew open.
"Good," one of them said.
"How do you feel?" Arnaud asked me.
"I feel like a shot-up Mafioso," I said weakly.
"Your head, girl," de Montpar demanded. "Is the pain gone?"
I slowly sat up and looked around me. I was in the huge white room, on a pallet. I tentatively touched a hand to the back of my head and discovered a long scar there. "No pain," I said, smiling with wonder. "You did it." I held out my arms to Arnaud, and he hugged me.
Arnaud withdrew from the embrace and motioned the other four men out of my earshot. They conferred for a minute, and then von Waldenhaus walked over to me.
"Can you stand?" he asked me. I stretched my legs out and felt how weak they were. "No," I said helplessly.
He nodded. "Didn't expect it. Your body has been completely inactive for four and a half weeks. I have to wash and feed you. Come on, back to the room." He picked me up and carried me through the side door, the waiting room beyond, and down the hallway. We came to the door of my room, which he opened. He placed me on the bed.
"There's been rather of lot of my being the helpless female recently," I cracked wanly. Von Waldenhaus turned to look at me, surprised. Realizing I meant no hostility, he smiled tentatively.
"Well, come on," I said. "Feed me...just please, please, no baby food this time!"
His smile turned into a full-fledged grin. "Actually," he told me, "They've graduated you from baby food to...veal Parmesan. Feast," he smiled, and brought a forkful to my mouth.
I sighed with pleasure. It tasted marvelous, and it felt so good to eat again. I smiled at von Waldenhaus, who gave me a little grin. "Wonderful," I informed him.
"Yes, well, we just went out back and killed the cow," he said, then laughed. "Just kidding."
I made quick work of the meal. "I feel better than I have in weeks," I told him. "Thanks."
"Well, I have to bathe you now, unless you feel like you can take care of yourself," he said to me. "Are you able to stand now?"
"Help me up," I asked him. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up. I stood, my legs still weak. "I don't know..." I let go of his arm and tried to stand, then quickly grabbed it again.
"Not quite yet," I said ruefully. "If I have something to hold onto I'll be all right."
"Just lean against the shower wall," he told me. "I'm going to take these dishes away and be right back."
I started my shower and heard von Waldenhaus leave. Soon I heard him come back in. I called out, "Glad you're back. Wash my hair for me, please?"
"Certainly," a voice said. It wasn't von Waldenhaus...it was Arnaud. His hands buried themselves in my hair and he lathered it carefully, then rinsed it out. He combed it straight with his fingers. Then he took up the soap and washed my back for me, slowly caressing my shoulders and massaging my muscles. His hands traced my old surgical scar down my back and along my hip. I closed my eyes in pleasure. I could feel the heat in his hands, and smiled in satisfaction.
I turned the tap off and said, "Towel, please." Arnaud handed me a fluffy white towel, which I wrapped around myself. He put his hand on my shoulder and turned me around to face him. My strength finally gave out and I collapsed forward. He caught me and guided me over to the bed.
"You need to rest," he told me. I lay back on the bed, still wrapped in my towel. "Wait, though-" he paused. "You must dry your hair and get dressed. Here," he said, walking over to the closet and pulling out a pair of flannel pajamas. He turned back to me and saw that I had already closed my eyes. He sighed, and pulled the bedspread over me. Then he turned out the light and left me to sleep.

***

I was in a white space. Lying in front of me was a slaughtered, mutilated cow, its blood spilled everywhere. Its ribs were exposed, its guts torn out. And then I noticed the bugs. Camel crickets jumping, crawling, seething everywhere. Roaches crawling inside the cow. Tiny, tiny spiders scurrying everywhere-across the cow, across the other bugs, and onto me in a cold wave. I screamed...

***

I sat bolt upright in bed. I ran a hand through my hair, then realized that I couldn't see my arm, not even an outline. I waved my hand in front of my eyes, but couldn't see it. That didn't make sense, because light was coming in from under the door. I got up, feeling panicked. I walked to the bathroom, stood in from of the mirror, and switched on the light.
I wasn't there. I didn't see myself. At all. It was like I was invisible.
I screamed. A moment later Lewis burst through my door. Something silver shimmered to the floor, disappearing on the way, and I could see myself again.
"I had a nightmare," I said breathlessly. "I woke up and I couldn't see myself and so I looked in the mirror, and I wasn't there. Something silver fell off of me, and then I was there again." I looked at him, frightened and bewildered. "What's happening?"
"Come with me," Lewis said. "It's time you learned what we've done." He pushed me forward and I stumbled, my legs still weak.
We walked down the hallway to the dining room I'd been in once before. A fire was again burning in the fireplace, and everyone was seated around the table. Thibaut, de Montpar, von Waldenhaus, and Arnaud at the head. At his left was an empty chair, which he motioned me to sit in. Lewis sat down next to de Montpar.
"So," I said, looking around at everyone. I waited for a moment, but nobody spoke. "Would you mind telling me is going on?"
Silence. I turned to von Waldenhaus. "Can you tell me?" I asked him. "I thought at least you were decent."
He looked back at me, a pained expression on his face. I turned my head, disgusted.
"Anyone?" I said. I turned to Arnaud, hoping he would tell me. "What is going on?" I asked. "What did you do to me?" I held a hand out to him beseechingly.
He sighed. "To make a long story short, we implanted a gland in your brain. That's-"
"What!" I yelped, jumping up from my chair. "Excuse me, did I just hear you correctly? Did you just say you put a gland into my brain?" I started pacing, a feeling of alarm growing in me. Ever since I'd had scoliosis surgery as a child, I'd been leery of anything surgically put into my body.
"Yes, you did. We constructed a biosynthetic gland using your cells for the tissue, and grafted it into the back of your cerebrum."
By now I was feeling panicked and frightened. Suddenly I felt what seemed to be a wave of icy spiders crawl over my body and...I disappeared.
Silence. Then, "Fantastique," Thibaut said quietly. De Montpar murmured, "It works. It actually works." Lewis wore a small, satisfied smile, and von Waldenhaus looked on, well pleased.
Arnaud spoke. "As you see, gentlemen, the quicksilver gland is working beautifully, just as it did when I helped implant it in Fawkes. You see she is completely invisible to the naked eye. Andrea," he spoke to the room at large, "quicksilver will not harm you in any way at all. You're completely safe. Now, I want you calm down, lower your heartrate. I know you can do that, you told me that you've practiced biofeedback since you were twelve. Are you calm now?"
I heaved a large sigh and did as he commanded, willing my heart to slow. I started to feel calmer. "Yes," I told him.
"Alright. Now I want you to give your arm a flick. Go on. Do it," he told me.
I shook my arm, and suddenly it became visible as that same silvery stuff fell off of it. I flicked my other arm, then my legs, and then my head. More of that shimmery silver fell off of me, and I became completely visible. I realized that I felt much...freer after I became visible.
"Dammit, Arnaud, this is your advanced optics. Tell me what you've done to me." I sat back down in my chair.
He drew in a deep breath. "What you've just experienced is the result of the gland we implanted in your brain. Stay calm," he told me as I tensed. He continued, "It secretes a substance called quicksilver, which bends light and renders anything covered in it invisible. When your adrenaline levels are elevated, that tells the gland to secrete a large level of quicksilver, which then comes out the pores of your skin, covering you, and turning you invisible."
"Oh, okay, thanks. I completely understand now. Can you put that into English, please?" I stood back up and glared at him.
"It might work better if you ask the questions and we answer," von Waldenhaus spoke up. Arnaud shot a warning glance at him, but nodded.
"How does this quicksilver do its thing?" I demanded. "I mean, you said it's activated by increased adrenaline levels, so does that mean that every time I become frightened I'm going to disappear?"
"Yes, it's activated by increased adrenaline, but it can also be activated through biofeedback. Once you learn to control it, you can become invisible at will. The nightmare you had was evidence of the adrenaline-trigger. Mutilated cows make such a wonderful dream, hmm?"
"Whoa, wait a second. How did you know that my nightmare was about a mutilated cow?"
Thibaut spoke up. "We put a very, very small amount of LSD into the veal you ate, just enough to cause nightmares. Von Waldenhaus made the comment about killing the cow, and that ensured you would have a nightmare, which would trigger the gland."
"Oh, that was nice," I said. "Actually..." I paused, thoughtful, "that was beautifully simple. Very nice," I said appreciatively. "So. Let's start at the beginning. I assume that the reason you accosted me in Paris was so that I could be your test subject for this gland." Arnaud nodded. I continued, "You drugged my food the first meal I ate. I'm assuming that in the time between that and when I woke up with a splitting headache, you implanted the gland in my brain. However, there weren't supposed to be any side effects to the surgery, but there were. Now, first of all. How long was I unconscious, and what did you guys screw up so that I had a hot poker stabbing through my skull?"
Arnaud said, "Well, you'd been unconscious for three weeks when you first woke. By that time, your body should have healed enough that so that you could, with a little care, act normally. But Bretagne did not intend for that to happen. She implanted some of her own tissue into the gland's outer extensions. After a week or two, once the gland thoroughly grafted with your brain, your body recognized her foreign proteins and started an autoimmune response against it. The pain caused in your head was due to severe inflammation. We preformed a second surgery to excise the tainted gland tissue from your body and re-grafted the rest of the gland back onto your brain. A week and a half later, you woke for the second time."
"Why?" I asked, disgusted. "Why did she do that, and what happened to her?"
Lewis spoke up. "Bretagne's always been a bit unstable. It seems that she took and immediate dislike to you and decided to cause you some agony. We really don't know why she did so, considering that she knew she would be...eliminated from the team."
"Ah," I said. "I see." I was silent for a second, thinking about Bretagne's betrayal. And all the physical pain she had caused me. "Bitch," I whispered. "I wish you could have let me have at her."
"Yes. Well, she has paid the ultimate price for it," Arnaud said softly, walking over to me and enfolding me with his arms. I leaned against him.
Then I pulled away and from his comforting embrace and paced. "So. Then what?"
Von Waldenhaus quirked an eyebrow. "More specific, please," he said.
"This quicksilver. Explain it to me. Tell me how it works. I want to know about this. Tell me about the gland."
Arnaud spoke up. "You will know all about it, I promise you. But first, you must eat, keep your strength up, and you've got to get a shot of antibiotics, as preventative."
I looked at him. "Sure, as long as you promise me not to drug me again." Then I grinned. "You know how useful this little gland could be?"
He nodded his head slowly. "Exactly. I'm glad you can understand that...Fawkes never did."
"Food, please," I reminded him. "And let's get this shot over with, too."

***

"Now I want you to control yourself. Calm your heart. Relax your hold on your body," Lewis coached me. "Now shake off," he said.
I shivered and shed my second, invisible skin. Quicksilver flaked off of me with a slight metallic sound and disappeared on the floor.
"Good," Lewis said. "By now you should be feeling comfortable in activating the gland and stopping the flow of quicksilver. We've practiced for weeks," he added under his breath. "I want to move on to a faster way to silver and desilver. Most of it is just going to be practice. Just remember that strong emotions, especially those of guilt and anxiety, will interfere with silvering. Anything with your 'fight or flight' response will cause you to silver unless you maintain control."
"Okay," I nodded. "I'll remember that. You said there was a faster way to desilver?"
"As I said, most of it is just going to be practice in biofeedback, getting a handle on your body faster and faster. You may eventually learn to trigger and stop the gland mentally. You're just going to have to experiment to find what it is that works for you."
"Alright. I can work with that. Thanks," I told Lewis.
Arnaud walked into the room. "Been working on quicksilvering?" he asked me.
I nodded. "I'm getting better. Lewis has really helped," I said.
"Good," Arnaud said. "Come outside and show me what you've learned."
He and I walked through the room, out the two steel doors, and down the long hallway leading to the outside, the first view I'd had of the inside of the compound. I reflected on my reactions of then and now. I'd really changed.
"You know, Monsieur de Fohn," I said, "When I was brought here, I was angry and upset over being kidnapped, and in such a manner. And then I was shocked and enraged to find out that you had implanted a gland into my brain without my knowledge or consent." I paused. "But, Arnaud, I've come to realize that this gland is one hell of an opportunity and I should take advantage of it. It doesn't make any sense to waste such a gift."
"Very good," he said approvingly. "You understand the gland."
I continued, "My initial impressions of the scientists, all of you, were wrong. You know, now I really am thankful you kidnapped me. You knew that I would never have gone along with the gland if I knew about it, so you did me a favor and put it in for me." Arnaud smiled at that.
We reached the outside doors and walked through them. It was about sixty degrees outside-nice weather to work in. The sun was shining, and an early spring wind was blowing. We stopped under a pine.
"So. Show me what you've learned with quicksilver," Arnaud prompted.
I obliged him by quicksilvering from the head down in a slow wave. "That was warm-up," I told him, becoming visible from the feet up.
"Can you silver faster?" he asked me.
"Sure," I told him, and immediately disappeared. I walked silently to him and jumped to inches away from his face, simultaneously desilvering.
"Nice," he said, smiling, admiring the 'view.'
I walked back away and held out a hand, silvering first the tips of each finger, then working my way up my arm as if I was pulling on a glove. I trailed my invisible hand down my other arm, leaving 4 lines of quicksilver and then trailed it up to my pointer finger, wrapping a line of quicksilver around it like a snake. Then I shivered my skin and it fell off delicately.
Arnaud looked on appreciatively. "You are an artist," he told me.
I flicked quicksilver at him, which jeweled his hair like diamonds. He caught my hand and stared into my eyes. My heart beat faster, and I was about to quicksilver out of sight.
I got to my upper arms, and then it stopped. I was left as an armless visible woman. "Damn," I swore quietly.
Arnaud quirked an eyebrow at me, silently laughing to himself. He regarded me frankly. I recovered the best I could-as I shed the quicksilver I sprinkled it over him, working from the tips of my fingers up my arms. He gave me a look. "Well done," he said.
"Oh, I have to stop. I don't know if you realize it, but it is work to go see-through," I sat down abruptly.
"Come on," he said, pulling me up. "I've got to give you a shot. Unless you receive certain trace elements, your body is going to develop deficiencies. And you're still on anti-rejection drugs, just to make sure that the gland will graft thoroughly to your cerebrum."
"Ah. Marvelous," I said dryly, and strode beside Arnaud as we walked back to the lab.

***

We were in my bedroom. Arnaud had walked me there from dinner, where we had been discussing quicksilver and the gland.
"So why did you pick me to be the lucky one given the gland?" I asked him.
"I'm glad to see that you're so enthusiastic about it," Arnaud said, reaching out to touch my hair. "Fawkes wasn't, ever. I made a mistake about him-"
"Who is this Fawkes you keep mentioning?" I asked.
"A long story, one I will tell you eventually. But as to why I chose you, I knew that you would accept the gland, use it. You're intelligent and beautiful...and our natures are the same," he said softly.
"I thank you," I replied, placing a hand on his. "I owe everything to you."
And then I quicksilvered his hand. He looked, startled, then tumbled me onto the bed, grinning. We tussled, and his hand abruptly became visible again. Arnaud ended up flat on his back and I leaned over him. Then I held up a hand, silvering only my fingertips. I traced a finger slowly across his ear, his jaw, his neck, leaving a thin, glistening line of quicksilver. My other hand, warm, followed. Arnaud's eyes locked with mine, darkening to the exact same shade as the Atlantic.
"You have my eyes," he whispered. I held up a quicksilvered palm, reflecting his eyes, my eyes, back at him before it went invisible. Then I flicked it off casually.
He closed his eyes at the sensations as my hands, warm and cold, continued to play over his body. He brought up his strong hands to bury them in my hair, then slid them down to my shoulders, my back, and came to rest at my hips.
Suddenly he flipped, and I landed on my back, Arnaud over me. He bowed his head to plant a line of feather kisses along my collarbones, then nipped lightly. I closed my eyes and sighed in pleasure. It had been so long since I'd been treated like this...
I placed a warm hand on his chest and felt his heart beat faster in anticipation. Then I let thin streamers of quicksilver flow over me. I glittered in silver. Arnaud looked on, a smile on his face. Slowly, oh so slowly I unbuttoned his shirt, quicksilvering it as I went. Planting my lips on the hollow of his throat and feeling his pulse hammer there, I moved my hands to the next button, and my mouth followed oh his smooth chest. I traced an invisible fingertip on the cuts of his muscles, and he shivered. His hands cradled my back and drew me nearer to him, and I flicked a bit of quicksilver over him. It landed on his hair, dappling silver. He kissed the skin of my throat, tongue darting out to tease me.
"You taste like cloves," he told me. I bit his shoulder, then kissed away the pain. He traced a finger down my side. I placed a finger to his, quicksilvering each of his fingertips, and he traced them along my ear, following it with his hot mouth.
Suddenly I pulled him to me, wanting his mouth to be on mine, wanting to taste him, wanting to feel him. He kissed me, tongue thrusting searchingly to discover the secrets of my mouth. Our breath mingled as we melted into each other, desire overwhelming us. Arnaud's hands were everywhere, and his touch burned like fire. I let my hands wander down to his waist and started to tease with his belt.
Arnaud broke away from me, chest heaving. He drew in a deep breath and collected himself, struggling. He stood up and drew me with him over to the mirror. We stood in profile, him behind me, naked to the waist, passion on his face, and me, fully dressed, hair tousled. His hands, wrapped possessively around my waist, took the hem of my shirt and pulled it up slowly off of me, then caressed me, trailing up to my bra, teasing me.
I tried to turn to face him, but he held me still. His hands trailed down the inside of my arms to my hands. He caught my hands and then turned me to face him. He brought his mouth down to the pale skin of the inside of my wrist, and oh-so-lightly licked me there. His tongue traced my veins lingeringly, and I made a line of quicksilver follow. Soon I was a latticework of silver and skin all the way to my collarbones. I could feel the heat of Arnaud's body on mine. I placed a hand on his thigh, moving my pressure upwards.
Suddenly Arnaud pushed me back onto the bed, landing between my legs. His mouth kissed my stomach, my thighs. My quicksilver followed his mouth. I was turning into a crystal of silver and invisibility.
I could feel our rising desire for each other pushing to new heights. We kissed desperately, hands and mouths everywhere, quicksilver shimmering on our bodies...

***

"You...are...amazing," Arnaud told me, gazing into my eyes.
I silvered a finger and traced it across his neck. "Thank you," I said softly, leaning over him, hair tumbling into his face. He shifted and the sheet slid down to reveal his chest. He pulled me to him and kissed me lightly. I rubbed my cheek along his dark hair, then curled up along side him. Soon, I was falling asleep, and Arnaud slipped out the door.

***

I was outside, taking some fresh air and appreciating the scenery. I decided to practice some of my exercises to work off a little energy. I dropped into combat stance and practiced my defense against an imaginary foe, streetfighting. I was about to switch into offense when Arnaud walked up to me.
"How are you doing?" he asked me. I looked at him with the air of someone who doesn't like b.s.'ing.
"Alright," he said, catching my silent reprimand. "I want to talk to you."
I sighed. This was like pulling teeth. "Obviously. About what?"
"About the gland," he replied. "You remember that you told me you always take advantage of what you've been handed?"
I nodded. "Yes...invisibility is a major gift, and you have to have a reason to have given it to me. And...?"
"I want you to work for me," he told me. "I want you do all I ask of you. If I bring someone in to train you, I want you to learn as much as you can from him. One of the reasons I chose you was your attitude."
I smiled sardonically at that. "Yes..."
He continued, "And I have the feeling there is more to you than meets the eye. You were wasted as a simple researcher. I have plans, Andrea."
I looked him hard in the eye, not saying a word. "Alright," I said finally. "I'm not picky about what I do for a living-as long as you promise not to order me to violate my morals. I don't have many, but what I do have, I hold sacred. I'll tell you if you order something that breaks them." I turned away, then looked back. "But don't expect that often."

***

I strode into the dining room and walked over to the table, which was laden with rolls and fruit. I helped myself to a thick-crusted roll, some jelly, and an apple. I poured a glass of milk for myself and walked over to Arnaud, who was already eating breakfast. He looked at me appraisingly. I was wearing faded jeans, ragged at the bottoms, and a crimson shirt. My hair, still wet from my shower, waved carelessly down my back. I sat down next to Arnaud and looked at him.
"I await my orders for the day," I told him, half-serious.
"Well, Mademoiselle Kanovfara, I indeed have an...assignment for you today." He paused. "This is going to be a little test. I want you to go down into the village, Starflï. There you'll find a small hotel called Der Edelweiss. I want you to obtain their guest list. You have two hours."
"Using invisibility, of course," I said.
"Naturally," he replied. "Now, go."
I left the dining room and headed for my room to grab some money and a leather jacket. Then I walked down the hallway, through the huge white lab, and out of the compound through the entrance corridor. I walked for about half an hour down the mountain through the cool pine forests and into Starflï. As I strolled through the picturesque village I checked the signs on the buildings for Der Edelweiss. I finally found it right in the center of town. I stepped behind a conveniently screening holly and quicksilvered. Once I was invisible I stepped back out and walked to the back of the hotel, looking for a service entrance. I entered through a small door and discovered I was in the laundry room. Stacks of towels and sheets were sitting on top of large washers, neatly folded.
I walked through the warm room and out to the rest of the building, noting that the housekeeping staff was in the middle of cleaning a room. I walked into the front room of the little hotel. It was empty. I desilvered and rang the little bell sitting on the front desk. A minute later the same man I'd seen cleaning the room walked in.
"What can I do for you?" he asked me in French.
I replied, "I'd like to rent a room for a few nights. This is such a nice little place," I added.
"Thank you. How long do you want to stay?"
"Oh, just two nights," I told him. "Then I'll be moving on."
"That will be 560 francs," he informed me. "Let me just finish up the room and I will be right back. Thank you," he added, leaving the room.
Once he had turned the corner, I stepped back and turned invisible. Then I walked over to his computer and quickly found his guest list. I printed it out, praying the man wouldn't walk back in.
He didn't. The page finished printing and I neatly folded it so it was small enough to fit in my palm. I silvered the paper and walked back through the building, past the room the proprietor was needlessly preparing for me, and through the laundry room. I slipped out the door and behind the holly bush. I turned visible, quicksilver flaking off of me, and walked back through the town. Soon I was hiking back through the pines to Arnaud's compound.
The entrance was built directly into the mountainside, but was screened by a thick cluster of pines. I glanced upward and realized that high above on a cliff a mansion was perched. It looked a bit like something Escher would have built-domed turrets, casement windows, and a high wall surrounding the whole thing. I would have to ask Arnaud about it.
A guard stood in front of the door in the cliff base, rifle at the ready. I smiled at him. He recognized me and opened the door for me.
I was walking down the entrance corridor when I suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of my skull, exactly where the gland was situated. I gasped in pain and grabbed for the back of my head, fingers clutching in agony. It felt like someone had cleaved my brain with an axe. Another pain stabbed through my head, and I went white trying to control myself as all the blood drained from my face.
And then it was gone. I sat, slumped against the wall for a minute, trying to control my galloping heartbeat and regain my breath. I finally did, resolving to tell this incident to Arnaud the moment I found him.
I walked into the lab. No one was there. I walked into the waiting room, where perchance Thibaut had just walked in. I looked at him, appraising him. His ash blonde hair curled at the ends-his originally short hair needed a serious trim. I realized his eyes were a startling shade of ice blue and were rimmed with short dark lashes. His lips were full and pink, and I caught myself wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
Whoa, what am I thinking? I questioned myself. I don't mess around. I never mess around!
Well, I thought to myself, what about Arnaud? That was different, I answered. Stop! This is Thibaut!
Thibaut glanced at me. "You're back?" he asked me. "How did it go?"
"Oh, easy," I said nonchalantly. "No big deal. I disappeared from the hotel; the poor man is probably wondering where I went, considering I dropped 560 francs on him. I probably could have done it without going through all that trouble, but hey, play it safe, you know?"
"I know," his voice purred into my ear. I was suddenly overwhelmed with a primitive urge of sheer desire for him, his deep, lightly accented voice arousing me. I grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to mine, kissing him hard. I continued while my fingers quickly unbuttoned his shirt and started to work on his belt. The feel of his heart beating excited me and I trailed my lips down his chest...
Thibaut thrust me away from him. "Stop it!" he commanded me, shock and anger trembling in his voice. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
I stared in horror when I realized what I'd done. I have never, ever in all my life done anything like that. I turned my head away in shame, feeling completely disgraced. "My God," I whispered slowly. "What did I do?"
"Come on," Thibaut said, grabbing my wrist. "I think it's time that you report back to Monsieur de Fohn."
I allowed him to pull me along, feeling a wash of shame roll over me. Suddenly I felt another hot stabbing pain in the gland and almost collapsed to the floor. Thibaut dragged me up and we continued to walk.
Finally we came to a door I'd never been through before. Thibaut opened it and thrust me inside. It appeared to be a small, cozy library. Most of the books I saw pertained to science. There were volumes on chemistry, human physiology, optics, and much more.
"Arnaud!" Thibaut called out. "Mademoiselle Kanovfara has returned! And changed, too," he added.
Arnaud walked out from between two rows of shelves. "Ah, good," he said, walking up to me. "You have the list?"
I nodded and pulled out the guest list from the pocket of my jeans. He took it from me and looked over it, nodding his head once.
"Thank you," he said. "You saved me a lot of trouble. Now, Thibaut, what were you saying about her being 'changed?' She looks alright to me."
Thibaut nodded, cheeks flushing. "Yes sir. With all due respect, I do not think she is...well. When we were walking through the lab, she, she assaulted me, sir."
"You mean she attacked you? Without provocation?" His tone was dark.
"No, no monsieur." Thibaut relaxed a little, realized the term 'assault' was a little excessive. "She...grabbed me and started to kiss me. Then she unbuttoned my shirt and...started to work. I had to physically push her away," he finished.
"What is the meaning of this?" Arnaud turned to me, angry.
"I don't know!" I protested helplessly. "It just came over me...I've never done anything like that!" I continued, "I've gotten these stabbing pains in my head, right where the gland is situated. What's happening?" I asked him, frightened.
"I don't know..." he trailed off. "Maybe quicksilver is causing some unexpected effects on your biochemistry," he said thoughtfully. "That is a possibility, since it is a foreign substance. I need to run some tests," he said suddenly.
Thibaut nodded. "I'll prepare the lab," he said, and left the room. It was just the two of us now, Arnaud and me.
"Oh, Arnaud, I'm so frightened!" I said helplessly, holding my arms out to him in supplication. He warily embraced me, and I seized my opportunity, jumping him and wrestling him to the floor. "Do me," I commanded him, taking off my shirt. "Now. I want you, Arnaud. And I know you want me."
Arnaud stared at me. "Andrea, stop this!" he cried, shocked. In response I nipped him on the neck and licked his earlobe lightly. "Come on, Arnaud," I pleaded, "be a sport. I know you want this as much as I do."
Arnaud drew and hand back and slapped me once across the face. My head whipped around and the force of his slap sent me to the floor.
I lay where I had landed, this time genuinely scared. "My God, it happened again, didn't it?" I whispered, terrified of myself.
"Yes," Arnaud told me softly, handing me back my shirt. I put it on quickly. "I think the sooner we run these tests, the better off you will be," he told me. I nodded, too shocked to say anything. Arnaud pulled me up, walked me to the lab, and went over to Thibaut, who was busy setting up the lab. Thibaut handed him a syringe, and he walked back to me.
"Once you wake again, we will have an answer," Arnaud told me. I nodded, and he pushed the needle into my vein. I soon fell unconscious.

***

"So," Thibaut spoke to Arnaud. "You finally let her experience quicksilver madness."
"Yes," Arnaud replied. "I realized that she would need something to keep her in check. I'd been giving her shots of counteragent before she could reach madness, but I thought it was time for me to tighten the rope a bit."
"Interesting choice for madness, sir," Thibaut said dryly. "Total release of sexual inhibition. I have to admit though, it was nice..."
Arnaud raised an eyebrow at him. "Really?" he asked blandly, maintaining a mask. He thought, don't you dare tell me that you enjoyed it...she is mine.
"Why did you choose that for her madness?" Thibaut continued.
"I didn't actually engineer a specific madness into quicksilver-it is a general disinhibitor. Fawkes turns into a raging killer when he goes mad. Andrea, however, has far too meticulous control over her otherwise hot temper. She learned to restrain it at a very young age. However, there is something...even deeper that she is afraid of."
""What?" Thibaut asked curiously.
"She had done some things in her past that she wasn't exactly proud of. One time she had a sexual experience with a man she didn't even know...after that she realized how dirty it made her feel. She vowed never to let anything like that happen again, and now she is frightened to let go of herself. Quicksilver destroys that inhibition, especially because it is based on fear."
"So..." Thibaut drew out the word, "This is going to be the perfect madness for her. She is horrified at the inhibitions it releases and her reactions..."
"Yes, it's good, isn't it? And as the madness progresses, she will turn violent and masochistic as well." Arnaud said. "This is the one thing that frightens her more than anything else in the world. It's the perfect thing to control her." He smiled darkly.
"Bravo," Thibaut said. "Force her to obey."
Arnaud sighed. "Oh, nothing so crude, Thibaut. Manipulation. Manipulation is the key."

***

I woke from my drug-induced stupor and looked around. I was lying on the steel operating table in the white lab. I sat up and swung my legs off the table. I felt all right, no stabbing pain in my head, no urge to become the roman princess Julia. I got off the table and looked to see if anyone was around, but I was alone.
I thought that that was odd for a second, but then decided the events of the day had taken their toll on me. I decided to go to my room and wash up, then find someone.
I walked out of the room, through the side door, and into the mauve-and-gray waiting room. I passed through the room and walked down the hallway. Once I got to my room, I closed the door and started my shower.
I was in the process of washing my hair when I felt a wave of anger and sexual desire wash over me. That was followed by the pain I was already coming to know too well. I gasped for breath and leaned against the shower wall. Soon it passed, and I hurriedly started to rinse my hair. As I was, another wave rolled over me, stronger than the last. And then another. I fought to control my body and the emotions running through me. Another wave hit me, this time one of absolute animal lust.
I got out of the shower, barely managing to wrap myself in a towel, and stumbled over to the mirror. I stared in shock, bordering on horror. What was happening to me?
My skin had taken on a silver hue, as if I had pure quicksilver for blood. My amber irises were ringed with silver and the whites of my eyes were interspersed with fine silver threads...they were getting silver-shot.
I was being steamrollered by the surges of emotions breaking over me. Trying desperately to maintain my control, I fought with my innermost desires and urges, but the lust and rage were building quickly in me, and I was rapidly losing. I could feel myself succumbing to the feeling of rage and a sexual desire for pain. Suddenly my last vestiges of control were blasted away with another burst of pain my skull.
I stood up calmly, dropping the towel away from me with a feeling of disdain. Then I walked out of my room, searching for someone, anyone. I walked back into the huge lab room and saw Lewis there. I quicksilvered and walked silently up behind him. "Oh, Monsieur Lewis," I cooed into his ear.
He jumped and turned quickly, his hand going for a nonexistent gun on his hip.
"Oh, Monsieur Lewis," I said silkily. "You're a man of force...just the kind of man I need." I put an invisible hand to the back of his neck and kissed him, then let my teeth nip his lips. He thrust me away with a judo move. As I landed on the floor I allowed the impact to desilver me.
I looked at Lewis from beneath my lashes. "So strong!" I moaned. "Do it again to me." I got up and walked over to him, and licked his temple. He slapped a dark hand across my mouth, drawing blood. I put a hand to my mouth and looked at the crimson drops there, then licked each away. I smiled at him. "Hurt me more," I breathed. "Hurt me the best way you know how. I've heard that black men have really big cocks...would you mind letting me find out?"
Lewis flushed beneath his dark skin. "Monsieur de Fohn!" he called desperately. "Venez ici! Venez vite!"
"Je te comprends," I informed him. He looked at me. "Stop it!" he commanded me in English.
I looked at him sulkily. "Temper, temper," I said, silvering a fingertip. "Oh, I do love that in a man." I started to draw a latticework of quicksilver over my naked body. I placed a cold finger on his lips. "You know what I want you to do?" I told him throatily. "I want you to-"
My next words were cut off by needle jamming itself into my skull. I felt a cooling liquid wash into me, and I collapsed to the floor. Arnaud withdrew the syringe as the quicksilver flaked off my body.
"Get a robe," he snapped to Lewis. Lewis ran off and returned in a few seconds with a surgical gown. Arnaud helped me to my feet and put the gown over me, tying the laces in the back. I was silent. I couldn't bear to look at Lewis or Arnaud because of the knowledge of what I had turned into. Arnaud gently took my hands and I turned my face away from him. He grasped my chin and turned my face back to him. I refused to look at him and see the shame and scorn in his eyes.
"Look at me," he said softly. I flinched when he spoke. "Leave us," he commanded Lewis. Lewis made a quick exit.
"Now, Andrea," Arnaud spoke to me gently. "Look at me."
"No," I whispered.
Suddenly Arnaud drew me to him and embraced me. I rested my head against his chest and my hands clutched his lab jacket. I burst into tears, sobs wracking my body. He stroked my hair comfortingly and held me.
I finally gained control of myself and drew away from him. I dried my eyes with the back of my hands and looked at Arnaud, misery twisting my features.
"Andrea, Andrea," Arnaud murmured. "It's all right. You are all right now. It's all right."
"What...happened...to me?" I asked him, voice ragged.
"Come on," he told me. "Let's get you dressed, and I will explain what has happened. Okay?"
I nodded. "Alright," I said quietly.
We walked all the way back to my room. Arnaud waited outside the door while I dressed into jeans and a white silk shirt. I stuck my head outside the door. "Come in," I told him. He did, sitting down on the bed. I sat down cross-legged, facing him.
"What happened to me?" I asked him again, in control of myself once more.
Arnaud ran a hand through his black hair. "It turns out that quicksilver has an unexpected side effect," he told me. "Somehow, something in its structure causes it to act like a narcotic. It binds with certain of your neurotransmitters, in essence short-circuiting the inhibitions your cerebrum places on your limbic system." He sighed. "I'm so sorry, Andrea. This problem did not show up in any of our tests."
I choked back a cry. "So what did you do? What did you inject me with to get me back to normal?"
"I formulated a counteragent. Basically it flushed the neurotransmitters out of the quicksilver."
"Ah," I said. "That makes sense." I paused. Then a thought struck me. "Wait. If what you say is true, this is going to be a recurring problem, is it not?"
Arnaud looked at his hands. "Answer me," I ordered him. "Tell me the truth."
"Yes," he said reluctantly. I bit my lip. "But," he said quickly, "The counteragent works. It's all you need."
I looked at him. "Yes," I said softly. "But I don't think you fully understand. Do you know what this did to me? It...turned me...into a sexual predator," I told him in a low voice. "Arnaud, I lost any inhibitions I had, and I enjoyed it! I turned into the lowest, meanest, sickest thing I could possible become. I have vowed myself, ever since I was fifteen, that I would never, ever use my body like that. All my control evaporated, Arnaud. It was like," I swallowed, searching for the word. "It was like my own private hell. The person who did those things wasn't me...I was buried inside my mind. I couldn't do a thing. Arnaud..." I covered my mouth with my hands.
Arnaud pulled me to him and held me close, silent. I stared at nothing, trying to get over my feeling of worthlessness. Arnaud said quietly, "It's all right. All you need is the counteragent, and you'll be fine. I estimate that you have a two and a half-week time period between injections if you don't use quicksilver, less if you do. Whenever you feel a pain in your skull, come to me, and I'll give you a shot. You'll be fine."
"Alright," I said. "I think that if you could take out the gland, that would put and end to this, but I'm not getting rid of it-it's too damn useful." I shook my head. "I will put up with this quicksilver madness. Just promise me, Arnaud, you will always have a shot of counteragent ready. Promise me."
"I will," he said. "Come on. We have business to attend to."

***

"No, no, no! That is not how you do it! Move the wire like so," a French voice admonished me. "Do it again." I sighed and pulled my hair back, trying to keep my temper. My newest coach was Jacques Minet, an accomplished thief and a friend of Arnaud's. I had found out that the reason Arnaud wanted me to obtain the Edelweiss guest list was to see if Minet had arrived yet. He had, and Arnaud had sent one of his guards into town to bring Minet to the compound. Now Minet was working me to death teaching me how to be a thief. Arnaud had ordered me not to turn invisible any time I was around Minet. Obviously Minet didn't know about quicksilver, and Arnaud intended for it to stay that way.
Minet had taught me how to move silently, improved my sense of balance, and was now teaching me how to pick locks. He had also started teaching me how to hack into computer systems. Obviously my thieving wasn't just going to be objects, but information. I could deal.
Arnaud strode through the steel doors and into the lab. Minet had several types of locks set onto the counter and had me working on picking them. I had already mastered the simple ones and was working on a more difficult lock.
"How are you doing?" Arnaud asked me.
"She's doing well, for someone who's never thieved before," Minet told Arnaud.
"Bon," Arnaud replied. "Are you about finished for the day?" he asked.
"Oui," Minet said. "I'll be back tomorrow."
"Au revoir, Monsieur Minet," I said to him. "A demain."
"A demain," he replied, and walked through the steel doors.
"How are you doing?" Arnaud inquired, a concerned look on his face.
"I'm all right," I told him. "I'm going to need a shot soon, though, in the next day. Arnaud," I said, my brow wrinkling, "Is there some way we can be more precise about using the counteragent? Is there some sort of monitor you can make that will warn me when I approach quicksilver madness?"
Arnaud regarded me. "Hmm...good idea. I will ask everyone their opinion. Thank you for bringing that up."
I smiled at him and wrapped my arms around him. "Come on, sexy," I told him. "I'd rather enjoy this sane, than be forced to it insane. What do you say?"
Arnaud gave me a slow smile. "I'd agree with that," he whispered.

***

"Mademoiselle Kanovfara!" a voice called. It was von Waldenhaus. "Come on. Monsieur de Fohn wants you in the lab."
I was in the library, sketching a woman. She had voluptuous hair, glimmering eyes, curving lips, prominent cheekbones. Von Waldenhaus walked into the library and over to me.
"Nice," he whistled. "You know, she kind of looks like you."
"Ha!" I laughed. "No, she's far too perfect to be me. She's just a woman."
"Well, mademoiselle, I admire your work. You truly are an artist."
"Thank you, --" I stopped. "I just realized I don't know your first name. May I?"
Von Waldenhaus grinned. "Of course. Call me Kurt."
"Kurt," I nodded. "All right, Kurt, let's go see what Monsieur de Fohn wants."
We left the cozy little library and walked to the lab. Arnaud, Lewis, Thibaut, and de Montpar were gathered around the operating table, waiting for us.
"Yes?" I asked. "What do I owe this pleasure to?" I smiled.
De Montpar spoke up. "I've developed a monitor that will measure how close you are to quicksilver madness. All I need to do is implant it."
I cocked an eyebrow. "Good Lord, I'm going to turn into the bionic woman," I quipped. "Alright. Lets do it."
De Montpar told me, "I'm going to administer a local anesthetic to the inside of your wrist and implant the monitor. It's basically a small chip. You won't feel anything; don't have to look if you don't want to. Herr von Waldenhaus will then draw a small tattoo on you."
"Go for it," I told him. "And thank you, in advance." De Montpar absorbed that without comment. He injected the contents of a small syringe into my wrist, and soon the skin went numb. He cleaned the area with alcohol, then took a small scalpel and parted the uppermost layers of my skin. He took a small, beige-colored silicon wafer and inserted it under my skin. Then he took a very fine needle and sewed the edges of the incision together.
"Alright, that's done. Herr von Waldenhaus?"
Von Waldenhaus stepped over to me. Soon he had made a small tattoo over the silicon chip. I looked at it. It was a dagger with a leather-wrapped hilt. A drop of blood rested on the tip. I raised my eyebrow.
"It seemed to fit," von Waldenhaus explained. Arnaud spoke up. "Minet will be teaching you knife fighting next."
"Oh, thank you," I said sweetly, "but I already know how. I learned a long time ago." I smiled at all the men, who were looking a bit surprised. "Good choice, Kurt."
"Well," Arnaud spoke up. "We can move forward then. Good." He looked at me with his green eyes. I looked back quizzically, amber eyes locking onto his. "Do tell," I said.
Arnaud took me by the elbow and steered me out the double steel doors. We walked through the entrance corridor and to the outside. It was a beautiful day out.
I saw a dummy set up. Arnaud pulled a dagger from an ankle sheath and handed it to me. I weighed it in my hands, feeling its balance. I grasped the leather-wrapped hilt of it, cocked my arm back, and then threw it. It sliced through the air and then buried itself in the chest of the dummy.
Arnaud nodded. I stalked over to the dummy, pulled out the dagger, and then walked back to him. I whirled and threw the blade again. This time it punctured the dummy where its right eye would have been.
"I see," Arnaud said approvingly. "You're very good."
"Thank you," I replied, giving him a half-smile. "When can I get my own blade?"
"Soon," he told me. "Minet will give you one that he has brought with him. It is a superb weapon; I think you will approve."
I nodded and pushed my hair behind my ear. Arnaud reached out to touch my hand as it came back down. I flicked a bit of quicksilver from my fingers over him. He laughed. "Do you know how to shoot, as well?" he asked me.
"Of course," I told him conversationally. "My father taught me to shoot when I was twelve. I pressed him into it. I think he was glad I did...I was kind of like the son he never had."
"I am impressed, Mademoiselle Kanovfara," Arnaud said to me. "I am glad to see I picked you to host the gland. Fawkes never was like you."
I looked at him. I had the feeling I was about to learn something interesting.
"Speaking about Fawkes," Arnaud continued, "I have a mission for you. Come, let's go discuss this over dinner."

***

Thibaut placed a steaming plate in front of me. I looked at it. "Chicken quesadilla?" I asked. "Not that that's a bad thing, just didn't expect to see it in the Swiss Alps."
Von Waldenhaus grinned at me. "It's nice to have a little variety every now and then, isn't it?" I nodded. "I thoroughly approve," I informed him. Then I turned to Arnaud. "So. What is this mission you said you had for me? Something about this Fawkes?"
"Yes," Arnaud confirmed. "Let me give you a little history lesson. About a year ago I was working on a project with the U.S. Government, the D.O.D. We were working on an invisibility gland, one just like yours. We implanted the gland into a man named Darien Fawkes, the brother of the head scientist of the research team. Fawkes was never very enthusiastic about the gland, but if he didn't take it, the alternative was much worse. I could never understand his reasoning. Anyway, soon after we implanted the gland, the lab was attacked by terrorists. Everyone but Fawkes and I were killed, and the U.S. government thinks that I am dead as well.
"What I want you to do, Andrea," Arnaud told me, "Is to spy on Fawkes. Tell me what he's doing, where he's going, everything. You and I are going to travel to San Diego, where he works. We'll be leaving from Charles de Gaulle airport in two days."
"That's cool," I said. "We can do this. Just make sure to bring along plenty of counteragent. Speaking of that," I continued, looking at my new monitor, "I think I need a shot. The entire hilt and almost the whole blade have turned red. Very useful, this," I said. "I thank you."

***

I was in the busy baggage claim area of the San Diego airport, looking for my duffel. I finally spotted it and ran through the crowd to grab it. Then I walked over to Arnaud, who was leaning against a column, waiting for me.
We had landed in San Diego from Charles de Gaulle airport. It had been a twelve-hour flight, and my nerves were frayed. We had passed through customs without a problem and had waited for what seemed like forever for our bags to show up. All the waiting and inaction were getting to me, and it didn't help that every three seconds I was bumped by someone or cut in front of.
"Patience, Andrea," Arnaud admonished me.
"Look, will we be getting out of here any time soon? All these jerk-offs are getting to me," I said, irritated.
Arnaud motioned for me to follow him, and I did. We walked for what seemed like an eternity through the busy airport. Finally we made it to a rental car desk.
"Can I help you?" the lady behind the desk asked.
"Yes," Arnaud said. "We're here to get a rental car that I reserved. It's a black Mustang Cobra, 2001 model, reserved for de Theil."
I whispered into Arnaud's ear, "Just a Mustang? Granted it is a Cobra, but come on..."
He looked at me and whispered back arrogantly, "It's a bit more inconspicuous than, say, my red Ferrari."
"Ah, yes. Here we go," the lady said, handing a set of keys to Arnaud. "You can return it whenever you please to any of our locations. Thank you. Just go through this door and you'll see the car."
We walked past the woman and through the utility door, into a parking garage. The car was right in front of us. We walked to it, opened the doors, and got in. Arnaud revved the engine and we sped out of the garage.
Soon we were stuck thick in the middle of San Diego traffic. Arnaud turned the radio on and we listened to some idiot DJ's lunch hour program.
"Crap, Arnaud," I said wearily. "Isn't there any classical on anywhere?" I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. In response, Arnaud turned the radio off.
I sighed. "You know, I really hate traffic," I told him conversationally. "I know," he replied. "I dislike waiting."
We crept forward through the noontime traffic, heading for our hotel. Out of sheer boredom I started to quicksilver-first my fingernails, then my hands. I crept the quicksilver up my body inch by inch, feeling it crawl over me. "Oh, hell," I said, annoyed, and shook if off.
"Try working on your control," Arnaud suggested. "See what the smallest area of your skin you can silver is. Or see if you can make patterns, designs."
I wrinkled my nose at him. "Right," I said, drawing out the word. "But since my brain is about to rot out of my ears from sheer boredom, why not."
I followed the blood vessels under my skin, creating an intricate web. Then I started to quicksilver the fine golden hairs on my arms one at a time. Good Lord, I was bored.
Finally we pulled up in front of the Renaissance Hotel. The valet took the car away and we walked through the marble entrance to the front desk.
"We've reserved a room," Arnaud stated to the man behind the desk. "Monsieur and Madame de Theil."
"Reservation number?" the man asked.
"86225," Arnaud told him. The man nodded, then turned away. He returned a second later with two magnetic cards. "You are in room 531," he told us. "Enjoy your stay."
We went up our room, which turned out to be a small suite. A huge room with two king-sized beds and a large leather sofa opened onto a luxurious bath, complete with jacuzzi, and a kitchenette. The carpet was so thick I sank three inches in it. Expensive-looking paintings adorned the walls.
"Nice," I said appreciatively. "Now, I'm going to take a nice soak in the jacuzzi and then go to sleep until dinner. I don't know about you, Arnaud, but I'm a feeling a little worn around the edges."
"That's fine," he consented. "I'm going to take care of a little business I must attend to, and then I'll be back. I'll wake you in time to prepare for dinner."
I nodded, and started to strip off my clothes. I could feel Arnaud watching me and turned invisible. "No peeking!" I told him. "Be a gentleman."
Soon I heard him leave the suite, and I relaxed into the jacuzzi. I looked at the monitor-the hilt and the base of the blade had turned crimson. I estimated that I had thirty-five minutes of total invisibility left before the onset of quicksilver madness. In other words, I had about five days at the current rate, but I estimated I would need a shot tomorrow for the mission.

***

We were sitting the Mustang, staking out Darien Fawkes' apartment. It was seven o'clock in the morning, and the sun had just started to rise through the clear morning air.
"Tell me again what I'm doing here," I asked Arnaud, stifling a yawn.
"We're waiting for Fawkes to leave for work," Arnaud told me. "I want you to see him early."
"Gee, thanks," I said sarcastically, choking back another yawn. "Mornings are so my thing." Suddenly Arnaud sat up in his seat. "There he is," he told me, some dark emotion in his voice. I looked. The man we were waiting for was about six-three, muscled, but a little on the skinny side, and had thick, warm-brown hair. I looked at him appreciatively.
Fawkes walked over to his car, a 1990 Ford Escort. I cocked an eyebrow. "Doesn't make that much, does he?"
Arnaud started the car and we tailed Fawkes. Fawkes pulled up in front of a building with the seal of the Department of Fish and Game on its glass doors. I looked at Arnaud. "This keeps getting better and better. What the hell is an invisible man doing working for F&G?"
"He doesn't actually work for Fish and Game," he told me tensely. "He works for a small agency actually under the D.O.D. that uses Fish and Game as a cover. The agency handles cases no one else will."
I nodded, absorbing this bit of news. "Alright, Monsieur de Fohn, what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to tail Fawkes, especially when he goes in to see his Keeper. Then I want you to hack into the Agency's database and get me all the information they have on quicksilver, the gland, and me. Go," he commanded.
"I'll be done in under an hour," I told him confidently.
I quicksilvered, looked around to make sure the street was empty, and got out of the car. Arnaud drove away. I walked up to the doors of the F&G building and peered inside. The lobby was empty. Taking a chance, I quickly pulled open a door and stepped inside the building. I looked at a small directory plaque on the wall. The Fish and Game offices were on the fourth floor. I headed over to the elevator, pressed the button, and in a second the elevator came. I stepped in it and pressed the button for the fourth floor. The doors opened and I stepped out.
I was on a small hallway. Walking down it I came to a door with a frosted window. I heard voices coming from inside. I put my ear to the door and listened.
"Fawkes, you've got to stop using quicksilver except for Agency-related purposes. The counteragent is too expensive to be giving you a shot every three days."
"Look, will you give me a break? The only fun I get in life any more is messing with this crap. Hell, I don't have a life anymore, it's just the gland."
A new voice spoke up. "Come on, Fawkes, we just went out to the bar a day ago, got to pick up some babes..."
"Yeah, Hobbes, right. A textile manufacturer is just so sexy," Fawkes said sarcastically. "Look, just let me get a shot, alright? I'll stop using quicksilver unless I need to."
"This is the last time, Fawkes. Don't use invisibility again unless we say so."
I heard footsteps walking to the door and I quickly stepped away from it. It opened, and Fawkes walked out, heading down the corridor. I followed him, walking silently. We walked down a stairwell for five flights and finally came to a halt. Fawkes swiped a security card and I slipped through the door after him. He walked down another hallway until he came to an open door. He paused for a moment, then walked into the room.
It was a lab, brick walled with tanks of fish here and there. A tall blonde woman was tapping fish food into them.
"Morning, Keep," Fawkes said. The woman turned, startled. "Good morning, Darien," she replied. "What brings you here?"
"What else?" he asked. "I need a shot."
The woman looked at him, about to speak. "Don't even start," Fawkes said quickly. "The Official was already on me today about invisibility. Just give me the shot, okay?"
She sighed, then walked over to a small refrigerator. She pulled out a vial of blue liquid I recognized as counteragent, and drew it into a syringe. She pushed the needle into his arm and then withdrew it, empty.
"Thanks, Claire," Fawkes said. They talked for a while longer, and then Fawkes said, "Hey, do you want to go grab breakfast with me? I'm kinda hungry."
They left the lab together. Once they were gone, I turned visible, walked over to the computer, and started searching through its files. Finally I hit pay dirt-a whole segment of files on quicksilver and the gland, charmingly listed under false names. I quickly copied them onto the floppy I had brought with me and then erased any evidence of the work I had done.
I left the lab and walked back up to the fourth floor where the office was, going invisible on the way. The door still stood open from when Fawkes had left, and I walked in. Two men were behind a desk, one standing, the other sitting. The man sitting was working a calculator. "Gotta love cooking the books," he said dryly to the man behind him. The man nodded.
I looked around the room. There were several filing cabinets pushed against the walls. I had the feeling that the files on Arnaud were in there. I frowned. How did I get these guys out of their office long enough to search for the files I needed?
Then I grinned. Directly over the desk was one of the sprinklers for the building's sprinkler system. I climbed silently onto the edge of the desk and opened the valve. Water burst forth from the opened sprinkler, and I carefully avoided the mist, knowing it would freeze on the quicksilver. The men looked up in shock, then gathered up the books, stuffed them into the desk, and left the room, fuming mad.
I smirked in satisfaction and walked over to the filing cabinets. I searched for Theil, de-didn't find anything. Then I looked for Fohn, de; didn't find anything there, either. Finally I found what I was looking for under de Fohn, Arnaud. Idiots, I thought, grabbing the files and quicksilvering them, don't you know you're supposed to file it as Fohn, de?
I hurriedly walked out of the office. Coming down the other end of the hallway were the two men and a janitor. I made a quick exit and walked down to the lobby of the building. It was still empty, so I turned visible and walked out. I looked at my watch-I still had fifteen minutes before Arnaud would return. I decided to window-shop a bit.
Finally Arnaud returned. "About time," I told him.
"Did you get the information?" he asked me.
"Yes, I did," I said, holding out the disk and the files. "I had some fun getting it, too," I told him. He frowned at me. "Oh, nothing like that," I commented dryly. "I had to get the fat man and his lackey out of their office-they were doing some 'creative accounting'-so I decided to rain on their parade. I opened up the valve on the sprinkler."
Arnaud gave me a half-smile. "Good work," he told me.
"Mmm," I said. "Now what are we going to do?"
"Well, we're going to go back to the Renaissance, where you can sleep for as long as you want to. I'm going to get a little business done and then we shall see," he said.

***

I stepped out of the shower and pulled a thick terry bathrobe around me. I took a towel and dried my hair. I sat down on one of the huge king beds, and laughed to myself. I didn't know why there were two beds, we only needed one. I walked over to the expansive closet and pulled out a pair of bootcut black pants, a leopard-print silk shirt, and a pair of black boots. While I was dressing I decided to see what was in the files I had stolen for Arnaud. I snooped around the room and finally discovered them hidden under his mattress. I pulled them out and looked at them, curious. A page caught my eye.

Arnaud de Fohn a.k.a. Arnaud de Theil
*Swiss free-lance terrorist/scientist in control of an unspecified number of mercenaries. First terrorist activities unknown.
*First human experimentation assumed to have occurred during his residency in Geneva where he engineered a "wonder drug" for one Genevieve Oiselet, a patient at his hospital, which cured her of her chemical dependencies but also made her physically dependent on the new toxin.
*Worked for the French government on space program designing corrective optics telescopes where he pioneered the "multiple-mirror" design.
*Worked for the Quicksilver Project in which the research team led by Kevin Fawkes implanted an invisibility gland into Darien Fawkes' brain. Was one of the major scientists responsible for developing quicksilver. Engineered quicksilver madness into the structure of quicksilver as a controlling factor. Staged an attack on the research lab and killed all the scientists working on the project including Kevin Fawkes, Darien's brother. Darien Fawkes escaped the attack and tailed de Fohn to Mexico, where Fawkes destroyed de Fohn's compound. De Fohn is missing, presumed dead

I let the pages fall from my hands at this revelation of Arnaud's past. Engineered quicksilver madness? Attacked the lab? That wasn't what he told me...
I felt a surge of anger rise in me. He engineered quicksilver madness? It was a purposeful torture? How dare he do such a thing!
Suddenly a stabbing pain drove through my skull. Speak of the Devil, I thought bitterly, here it comes. I looked at my dagger tattoo-it had flushed red almost the entire length of the blade. Damn it, I thought angrily. Damn him!
I could feel the demon rising in me, the desire to hurt and fornicate and take pleasure in pain. I fought it determinedly. I will not give in, I thought. That bastard! He intentionally did this to me! Damn him to Zandru's seventh hell!
I was curling into a ball, trying futilely to fight the pain and the madness, when the door burst open. "Freeze!" a voice shouted. "Federal agents! Don't move!"
I didn't even jump, I was so focused on only myself. Two men stalked into the room, guns drawn. I looked at them through the knives stabbing in my head and realized that one of the men was Darien Fawkes. The other man had to be his partner.
Fawkes walked over to me and looked at me, then stared. "My God," he whispered. "Hobbes!" he called over his shoulder. "Come over here!"
"Counteragent..." I said faintly, then tensed as another knife landed itself in the gland. I felt a slow wave of sexual hate run through me and I struggled to force the demon down.
"Damn," Hobbes said. "What the hell's happening to her?"
"Don't you see, Hobbes? She's going quicksilver mad," Fawkes told his partner.
"Yeah, but...silver-sheened skin? Silver-ringed amber irises and silver-shot eyes?" Hobbes looked almost afraid.
I looked at Hobbes. "What, you sexy man," I asked him, "Don't you like exotic girls?" I quicksilvered my palm and touched it to his thigh.
"Hobbes!" Fawkes exclaimed. "We've got to get her out of it! Look for some counteragent!"
With a monumental effort, I gained control over myself. "In the refrigerator," I said weakly. "Hurry."
My eyes had turned almost entirely silver. Fawkes looked at me, his face telling me that he understood all too well what I was going through. I felt my control crumble away. "You are so incredibly sexy," I told him. "I just want you to bang me- "
A needle stabbed brutally into my arm. A second later, I fell forward and Fawkes caught me.
"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear any of that," he informed me. "I know what it's like-you, the person, gets blown away by that thing."
"Thank you," I whispered. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, it started when you opened the valve on the sprinkler. The Official knew something like that wouldn't happen, and he swore he saw the mist make a man-shape-you should have been more careful avoiding that water," Fawkes said reprovingly. "Then they discovered that the files on Arnaud de Fohn were missing. We did a little quick research, put two and two together, and got five."
Hobbes spoke up. "I can't believe that anyone would be nuts enough to make two of you! I thought one of you was bad enough." Hobbes smirked at Fawkes.
Fawkes shot a glance at Hobbes. Hobbes continued, "We're going to have to take you in now. Being an accomplice to a terrorist, especially this terrorist, is a really nasty crime."
Hobbes prepared to cuff me, and I realized that just because they saved me from quicksilver madness didn't mean that they weren't going to lock me away. I scrambled up from the floor.
Suddenly the door flew open. Arnaud ran into the room and tossed me a dagger that I caught and sent flying at Fawkes. It thudded into his shoulder and he went down with a yell. That provided enough distraction for Arnaud to land a karate-chop on Hobbes' neck. Hobbes collapsed into an unmoving heap. Arnaud delivered a swift kick to Fawkes' head, and he went silent.
I ran over to Fawkes and pulled my dagger out of his shoulder, jerking it to get it free. Arnaud gathered up his files and his laptop, threw them into his briefcase, and slammed it shut. I grabbed my bag, ran to the refrigerator, and grabbed the vials of counteragent.
"Allons!" Arnaud commanded. We ran out the door and rushed into the elevator. We composed ourselves and calmly walked out when we came to the lobby. The valet saw us and hurried to get our car. "What the hell happened?" Arnaud demanded, flooring the pedal as we reached the highway.
"I don't know!" I said desperately. My hands started to quicksilver in response to my shattered nerves. I had controlled myself during the attack but now with the adrenaline dumped into my system my control slipped, and I let it.
"Compose yourself, Mademoiselle Kanovfara!" Arnaud snapped. I took in a deep breath and calmed my heart.
"What happened?" Arnaud asked me again, jaw tight.
"Well I was rolling on the floor in quicksilver agony," I shot him a reproachful glare, "when the door was kicked open by those two agents, Fawkes and Hobbes. They said they had traced us to the hotel and that they were going to haul my ass in. Then you came in," I concluded, still nervous. "Look, what are we going to do now?"
"We have to get out of the country and back to Switzerland," Arnaud said tersely. "We can't fly commercial because the agency will have an APB on us. We're going to the place of an associate of mine who has a private Learjet. We'll take that and fly to New York, and from there to the Alps."
We drove on for a while, a black streak rocketing down the highway. We were both lost in thought. Finally I broke the silence, my voice tense.
"Fawkes told me about quicksilver madness," I said quietly. "That you engineered it."
"Little prick," Arnaud muttered coldly. "Don't believe him."
"Yes, well, Monsieur de Fohn, I also happened to read the files the Agency had on you. Fawkes wasn't lying. You did design it in. Damn you!" I stared at him, angry, letting my anger translate into quicksilver. The air turned a few degrees colder in the car. I placed an invisible hand on the back of his neck and squeezed, digging my fingernails in. He flinched against the pain. Then I withdrew my hand and left a thick coating of freezing quicksilver there.
"You lied to me," I whispered. "You were the one who attacked the lab, not some other terrorists. You killed Fawkes' brother. You asshole! You lied to me about everything. I supposed you lied about us to me, too," I said bitterly.
Arnaud suddenly pulled the car off to the side of the road, got out, and stalked over to my side of the car. I got out, visible again, and glared at him. "And who is the Genevieve Oiselet I read about, the one you got addicted to your 'wonder drug?' How much did you screw with her, huh?"
Arnaud stood as still as a statue, rage trembling every muscle in his body. "You leave her out of this! Vivi was an entirely different matter!" he shouted.
"'Vivi?'" I said mockingly.
"This is between the two of us!" Arnaud hissed. "Yes, I designed quicksilver madness into quicksilver. You don't think I would give you the power of invisibility with no strings attached, did you?" He smiled wickedly.
I looked at him, fury making my golden eyes blaze. "You dick," I told him. "How long have you been lying to me, Arnaud?"
Arnaud came over to me and gripped me hard on the shoulders, staring into my eyes. "Yes, I didn't tell you the truth about my past. I had my reasons, now you know it all. But I have never lied about you, us." He pulled me to him and I felt his heat. "Do you understand me? Do you think I would take you with me here if I didn't trust you? You are my right hand now, don't you see?"
I looked at Arnaud hard in the eye, looking past my rage at him to what he was telling me. I looked into his mind, and realized he was telling me the truth. He needed me. I made a decision.
"Promise me this," I demanded. "You won't lie to me again about anything like this."
"If you come over to my side," he countered. "Then, yes."
I looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I already am on your side," I told him harshly. "I renounced my old life when I accepted the gland." God, I have no past, I thought silently.
"Swear you will never turn on me," he commanded. "You turn on me, you turn on yourself."
"I won't," I told him. "I swear it. We're in this together now."
Arnaud stared at me for a minute longer. Then he abruptly turned and got back into the Mustang. "Viens," he said. "We've got a plane to catch."

***

We were in a Piper Cub, flying over a deserted valley in the Alps. I held onto the sides of the plane, wind whipping my hair, and looked down at the flower-covered cup of land. From this height it looked as if a child had thickly scattered confetti on a green field. Arnaud walked over to me, a parachute strapped to his back.
"Here!" he shouted at me over the noise and handed me a parachute. "Put this on!"
I looked at him. "What the hell are we doing this for again?" I called over the roar of the wind and engines.
"I told you," he said over the noise. "Everyone is looking for us. This is the only way for us to get back undetected."
"Right, and I just turned into James Bond," I said, looking at him skeptically. Nevertheless I strapped the parachute on. I noticed that Arnaud had tucked his files between the straps and his shirt.
"Alright!" he yelled. "On the count of three we're going to jump! Once you jump count to ten and then pull the release-cord! One...two...three!"
I jumped out of the plane and was whipped by the air. I started to count and then saw Arnaud bodysurfing the air next to me. As we came up at seven, Arnaud yelled "Eight! Nine! Ten!"
We both pulled the release-cords for our parachutes. They opened in a rush of sound and suddenly I was jerked up. I looked at the ground-it was drawing nearer and nearer. Then I looked over at Arnaud and saw him floating next to me. I smiled, feeling a sudden rush of exhilaration and power for my new life with Arnaud.
My feet hit the ground and I rolled, hitting the releases on my harness. A minute later I walked over to where Arnaud had landed.
"Well, terrorist?" I asked him. "Where to?"
"This way," he said, walking north. "It will be about an hour's hike from here. Allons, ma cohorte."
"Certainement," I replied.
We started off toward a mountain slope covered in pines. "How far?" I asked.
"Not that far. See that ridge of trees, and the wall? That is the back wall of my lab and chalet."
"Chalet?"
"Oh, yes. I never let you upstairs. You will see, Mademoiselle Kanovfara. All in due time." We picked up the pace and soon became just two black-clad figures striding side-by-side, hiking toward our new life together-an underground life of power, secrets, and each other.




Gonna keep catching that butterfly in that dream of mine, that lucid dream of mine... Catching the Butterfly, by Verve